Canyons of Night

Chapter 15

“IF I NEVER EAT ANOTHER SLICE OF ZUCCHINI BREAD again in my entire life, I don’t think I’ll mind,” Charlotte said.

“I believe Rex now considers it a staple of his diet.” Slade switched on the small flashlight he had taken out of the pack slung over his shoulder. “He’s going to be crushed when the season is over.”

“I’m sure he’ll move on. He’s a dust bunny. He lives in the moment.”

“Zucchini issues aside, dinner was good tonight. I liked the way you fixed the tomatoes.”

“Thanks. But I gotta tell you, I’m even running out of things to do with tomatoes. Luckily Mrs. Duncan says her broccoli, kale, and peas are coming in nicely so we should have some changes in the menu soon.”

“I’ve never been a broccoli fan and I wouldn’t know what to do with kale,” Slade said.

“You wash it, dry it, cut it up, toss it with olive oil and salt, and then you roast it in the oven until it gets all crispy.”

“Yeah?” Slade sounded skeptical.

“Tastes just like potato chips.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Slade said politely.

“You’ll see. I’ll fix some for you as soon as Mrs. Duncan brings me a batch.”

“Deal.”

There had been a little light left in the sky when they had set out from her cottage in Slade’s SUV. But darkness was coming on fast as they walked into the trees at the end of Merton Road. Rex, clutch purse in paw, was bobbing about at their feet, dashing hither and yon to investigate interesting rocks and clumps of vegetation. Occasionally he disappeared altogether into the undergrowth only to reappear a short time later with some small treasure—a rock or a flower—to show them.

The night seemed filled with promise. Charlotte was intensely aware of a sparkling sense of anticipation, as if an important door was about to open and everything in her life was going to change. She hadn’t felt anything like this since the night she had gone into the Preserve with Slade fifteen years ago. No, she reminded herself, she had experienced it on one other occasion. That was the morning last week when she stood with the others and watched Slade walk off the ferry to take the chief’s job.

It only went to show how poor her intuition was, she thought, because when you got right down to it, nothing had changed after those other two encounters.

Nevertheless, she felt thrilled tonight. There was no other word for it.

“I’m really excited about this, you know,” she confided.

Slade smiled his faint smile. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“I don’t get out much.”

“Nobody does around here, as far as I can tell. Probably because there’s no place to go.”

“I’m not talking about traveling or entertainment. I meant that I’ve had a hard time doing the really interesting things.”

“Such as?”

“I told you that my family expected me to end up selling antiques. They were right. But fifteen years ago my secret dream was to become a para-archaeologist and work in one of the Arcane museums.”

“I remember. I take it that didn’t work out for you.”

“I got my degree and I applied to the Arcane museums in each of the four city-states and all of the regular public and private museums as well. But every single one of them turned me down.”

“Did they give you a reason?”

“Just the usual sorry, we don’t need your particular talents at this time crap. But I did some investigating on my own and found out the truth. My rainbow-reading ability isn’t considered useful in the field. I’ve got a good feel for identifying para-artifacts and antiques, but that’s hardly unique. There are people with a lot more specific talent for that kind of thing.”

“What about that tuning trick you do?” Slade asked.

“That’s just it. Everyone considers it a neat trick, a novelty. But I can’t even use it to tune standard resonating amber for focusing purposes. It doesn’t work that way. The fact is, my little trick has no academic-related uses.”

“Just good for selling art and antiques?”

“Yes. I can’t complain. It’s worked out very well for me from a financial point of view. And I really do enjoy the work. My family was very relieved when I made the decision to go into the business.”

“Why?”

“They were afraid that working with some of the seriously powerful antiquities in museum collections would cause me to have more panic attacks.” She paused. “Me being so damn delicate and all.”

There was a long silence before Slade finally spoke.

“You’re not the only one who got slapped with that label,” he said. “I did, too.”

“What?” Startled, she glanced at him. “Are you serious? There’s nothing delicate about you.”

“Cut me some slack here.” He managed to sound hurt. “I may be a cop but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean. You were an FBPI agent and you worked for that special Office and now you’re a police chief investigating a murder by paranormal means. Somehow I just can’t see anyone labeling you as delicate.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The silence that fell between them was longer this time. Charlotte sensed that Slade regretted having gone down this particular conversational path. She pulled up the collar of her jacket and waited to see if he would tell her the rest of the story.

The night was cool but not cold. She was dressed for the trip into the forbidden zone in jeans, a sweater, and a jacket. She listened to the sounds of the gathering night. Small creatures chirped in the grass. A light breeze sighed through the branches and boughs and rustled leaves. Birds called in the trees.

Slade did not speak.

In the end she couldn’t stand not knowing.

“Okay, okay, who called you delicate?” she asked.

At first she thought he was not going to answer the question. But he must have concluded that, since he had brought up the subject and since she had answered his questions, he owed her some sort of response.

“A team of doctors and para-shrinks at a clinic,” he said.

“Oh, geez.” She stopped, stunned, and stared at him, trying to read his profile in the low light. “Talk about a career-killer for someone in your line. I don’t believe it. You have got to be kidding.”

“No.” Slade halted. He did not turn to face her. Instead he gazed steadily ahead at the trees that marked the boundary of the Preserve. “Although to be fair, I don’t think delicate was the exact word that was used in the file. The terms were unstable and deteriorating and a few others in the same vein. But the result was the same. Everyone concluded that I was no longer fit for the kind of work that I do. That I did. The official story is that I’m taking time off until my senses heal.”

“But?”

“But the para-shrinks and the doctors don’t think there’s a chance in hell that I’ll ever regain the full use of my talent. In fact, things are expected to get worse.”

“What happened?”

“Long story,” Slade said.

She knew from his tone that he was not in the mood to tell her the rest. Not yet.

“Right,” she said. “But I have to tell you, you are not psychically delicate.”

“Yeah? And just how would you know that?”

“Beats me. It’s part of what I do. I’ve seen your rainbow when you’re partially jacked. Everything looked clear, strong, and stable. If your senses were deteriorating, that fact would be reflected in the primary ultralight colors that I saw.”

“I thought you said I looked conflicted.”

“I did sense that, but the rainbow itself was strong.”

“I’m sure the para-shrinks would be interested to know that an antiques dealer has declared me not delicate.”

The icy edge on the words was enough to silence her.

“Not much farther now.” Slade started walking again. He aimed the narrow beam of the flashlight at the ground in front of her. “You’ll feel the fence soon.”

Time to shut up about his aura rainbow, she thought. He had a right to his secrets.

The first shiver of dark, ominous energy whispered across her senses. Like a warning shot over the bow, she thought. They were moving through the trees now. The woods seemed to close in more tightly around them and the atmosphere darkened.

“You’re right,” she said. “The fence energy feels different tonight. It’s much stronger.”

“It gets worse.”

“Why do I suddenly know how Little Amber Riding Hood felt when she started out to Grandmother’s house?” she said. “Or maybe I’m thinking of Hansel and Gretel.”

“There was a reason why forests have always been considered dangerous places in fairy tales,” Slade said. “And this particular forest has never been explored. Add in the nexus factor and whatever the hell that fence is supposed to be protecting, and you’re dealing with a lot of unknowns here.”

The flickers of energy intensified, jangling her nerves. It was like brushing against a lot of small, live wires. She flinched and gritted her teeth against a near-painful jolt.

“Lot of hot psi, too,” she gasped.

“For the next few yards we’ll be walking through a heavy psi-storm. My advice is to run a little hot until we’re through the force field. That seems to ward off the worst of the effects, at least for me. Speak up if you want to turn back.”

“I will not be turning back,” she said briskly.

“Didn’t think so.”

“But it is definitely hotter than it was fifteen years ago.”

“Yes.”

Cautiously she elevated her senses. The downside was that she could now perceive the psychic electricity that flashed and crackled in the atmosphere. She understood why the Preserve had a reputation for being haunted. Anyone who got this far through the barrier could be excused for believing that there were howling, wailing apparitions everywhere. The sensations were disturbing and oppressive and flat-out scary.

The upside of walking with her senses slightly heightened was that Slade was right. Running a little jacked dampened some of the terrible sense of dread that threatened to overwhelm her.

Slade took her hand and squeezed it tightly. The psi-fire faded even more with the physical contact. She realized that he was using some of his energy field to shield her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

The psychic noise caused by the screaming phantoms was more tolerable now.

“Not much farther.” Slade gripped her hand more firmly. “There’s Rex.”

She looked down and saw Rex trotting calmly through the energy field, evening clutch gripped in one paw. All four eyes were open and he was half-sleeked but there was no indication that he was experiencing any discomfort.

“The force field is probably tuned only to human psi frequencies,” Charlotte observed. “Then again, what else could they be tuned to? No one has ever figured out how to measure animal psi.”

They moved out of the trees and into a small meadow. The disturbing energy field winked out with disconcerting suddenness. The psychic scream inside her head fell silent. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least the experience hadn’t triggered a panic attack, she thought.

“We’re in,” Slade said. He stopped and let go of her hand.

She gazed at the incredible scene around her with a sense of awe and wonder. “This is absolutely amazing. You’re right. It’s so much stronger and more spectacular than it was fifteen years ago. It’s still an enchanted fairyland but it’s a much brighter version of the original. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

“There are some places in the Underworld that rival this but none that I know of aboveground,” Slade said.

“You know what?” she said softly. “This reminds me of some of Jasper Gilbert’s paintings.”

“I had the same thought.”

“Think he’s been in here?”

“He and Kane are both retired ghost hunters, strong ones, I think. That means they have a talent for working amber and alien psi. It’s possible that is enough to get them through the fence.”

The moonlit meadow and the small pond looked as if they had been painted with a brush dipped in silver light. The soft radiance that illuminated the landscape was clearly paranormal in nature. The ultralight given off by the grass and other foliage was not the only discernible energy. Charlotte realized she felt warmer now. It was as if someone had switched on the heat.

“The bio-phosphorescent effect isn’t so obvious during the day,” Slade said. “The visible radiation from the sun tends to overwhelm it. But at night the paranormal energy really pops if you’ve got enough talent to see at least partway into the ultralight end of the spectrum.”

“I can’t believe the Arcane researchers haven’t set up a lab here,” she said.

“As far as I can tell, Arcane doesn’t even know this place exists,” Slade said. “Neither do any of the other big labs. The Rainshadow Foundation has done a very good job of keeping the Preserve secret. The question is, why?”

“I wonder what those who can’t see far into the paranormal spectrum perceive when they look at scenes like this inside the Preserve.”

“According to the few reports that exist from the old days, those with limited psychic senses who managed to get in and back out thought they were seeing ghosts. Phantoms and spirits. Flickering shadows at the edge of their vision.”

“What about those canyons of night that you mentioned?”

“I haven’t found any descriptions of them in the old records and, as I told you, I didn’t come across any fifteen years ago, either. I’m sure they’re new. Want to see one?”

“Yes.”

“There’s one not far from here.”

They set off across the meadow. Charlotte kept her senses heightened, entranced and fascinated by iridescent wildflowers and grass that flashed with eerie silver luminescence. Banks of radiant ferns surrounded a pond that gleamed obsidian dark.

It wasn’t just the plant life that radiated bio-psi. Charlotte heard a small lizard skittering away into the foliage and caught a glimpse of a jeweled tail. Winged insects flitted and danced on the night air like so many sparkling fairy-sized flashlights.

They circled around the pond. Charlotte saw that the surface was darkly, ominously luminous.

“What in the world?” she whispered.

“I have no idea,” Slade said. “What’s more, I don’t think it would be a good idea to put on a dive suit to find out why the pond seems to be glowing.”

She shuddered. “I agree.”

When they reached the trees Slade took Charlotte’s hand again.

“The entrance to the canyon is just inside the tree line,” he said. “You probably won’t be able to see a thing. Don’t worry, I can. I won’t let you get lost.”

They moved into the trees. The darkness closed in abruptly. Between one step and the next all of the enchanting fairy lights of the meadow winked out, plunging Charlotte into the deepest, densest night she had ever known. The first whispers of panic flickered through her. Instinctively she went into deep-breathing mode. Slade’s hand tightened on hers. She sensed his silent inquiry.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Cautiously she pushed her talent a little higher. Two apparitions moved in the absolute darkness. She realized she was looking at Slade and Rex. A fierce rainbow formed around one of the shadows. Slade, she thought. She would know him even in the darkest place in the universe.

“I understand what you mean by canyons of endless night,” she said.

“Can you see anything at all?” he asked.

“I can definitely sense the energy here. It’s dark and it’s scary. I can see your rainbow quite clearly. But you and Rex are just shadows within shadows.”

“I think that’s more than most people, even those with talent, could see. There’s a lot of energy in the vicinity but most of the currents are coming from the farthest end of the spectrum, the dark ultralight end.”

“What do you perceive?” she asked.

“Infinite night. Like something out of a nightmare.”

“What do you suppose is generating the heavy ultralight?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re worried?”

“Power in large quantities is always a concern, and whatever is going on here involves a lot of energy. The changes inside the Preserve raise questions.”

She smiled. “And you like answers.”

“Yes.”

“You said yourself that the Preserve has always been a dangerous place.”

“True.” He guided her back out of the dense night to the edge of the glowing meadow. “But I think it’s becoming more so. The Foundation was right to strengthen the fence but I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

“Doesn’t seem to be working too well. We got in.”

“If we got in, other strong talents can make it, too. But I doubt if most of them will have the ability to navigate it. GPS and compasses don’t work.”

“What about the locator devices that ghost hunters use in the Underworld?”

“I tried one. It doesn’t work, either. They’re designed to handle environments that generate a lot of alien psi. This is different. It’s nexus energy. And something else. I think.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“I’m certain that the nexus forces are involved but they may simply be enhancing whatever is really going on here,” he said.

“You’re not having any problem staying oriented.”

“I told you, something about my version of hunter-talent allows me to navigate the Preserve.”

“Well, I’m thoroughly lost at the moment,” she said. “If you weren’t with me I could probably make it across the meadow, but once inside the trees I’d be completely disoriented again. I don’t even want to think about what it would be like to blunder into one of those night canyons. A person could wander in circles forever.”

He led her back out of the trees into the twinkling fairyland meadow. She looked around, searching for a small scruffy shadow carrying a clutch. She didn’t see one.

“Where’s Rex?” she asked.

“Probably got bored and decided to go hunting. I told you he disappears a lot at night. It was the same way back in Resonance City. There he used to go down into the Underworld to meet his buddies.”

“Perhaps there are other dust bunnies here in the Preserve. Maybe he’s hoping to meet a girlfriend.” She thought about the clutch purse. “Or a boyfriend.”

“There’s enough uncharted territory here in the Preserve to conceal a whole herd of dust bunnies.”

Charlotte stopped to drink in the luminous landscape. “This place really is extraordinary. Make my night, lie to me and tell me that you never brought any other girl here fifteen years ago.”

“No.”

She sighed. “I should have known better than to ask a former FBPI agent to lie.”

“No, I never brought anyone else here,” he said very steadily. “Just you.”

She turned quickly. “Really?”

“Only you.”

She looked into his heated eyes.

“Tiger, tiger, burning bright,” she quoted in a whisper.

“What’s a tiger?” Slade asked.

“Old World beast of prey. Something like a specter-cat, I think. The line is from an ancient poem.”

“I remind you of a beast of prey?”

“No,” she said. She touched the side of his sternly etched face. “But I have always known that you were born to guard and protect. I am quite sure that you could be as fierce and relentless as a tiger or a specter-cat if it proved necessary to defend those who are weaker than you.”

He reached up and caught her wrist. Very deliberately he turned his head and kissed her palm. A great longing rose deep inside her, a longing that she knew had been there all along, unacknowledged, for the past fifteen years.

Slade looked at her with all the fierceness she knew was locked inside him.

“I don’t know what you saw in my aura rainbow that made you think I would regret making love to you,” he said. “But whatever it was you were wrong.”

“Was I?”

“I want you, and I don’t give a damn what it costs me.”

“There shouldn’t be a price to be paid,” she said.

“There is always a price. I want you to understand that I am willing to pay it.”

He let the pack slide off his shoulder and then he drew her close, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her with all the dark fire that she had seen blazing in his aura rainbow. Instinctively she started to touch the pendant at her throat but she stopped just before her fingers brushed the silver mirror. Perhaps it was the energy in the atmosphere around them. Or maybe it was simply that she did not want to screw up again and miss the experience she had been yearning for all these years. Whatever the explanation, she knew that this time she would try very hard not to view his rainbow.

He said he was willing to pay the price. She would take him at his word. Because she knew now that there would be a price for her as well, and she, too, was willing to pay it.

Her hand fell away from the pendant. She gripped his shoulders, savoring the sleek power she could feel there, and returned the kiss with a passion she hardly recognized as her own.

The kiss was desperate and all consuming; a kiss unlike anything she had ever experienced. She was suddenly shivering but not because of a panic attack; rather from the force of raw physical desire. Everything about Slade was hard, demanding, implacable, and relentless.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers and imprisoned her head gently between his two powerful hands.

“This is about you and me tonight,” he said. “Nothing else matters.”

“Nothing else,” she agreed.

He used his grip to bring her hard against him and kissed her again. She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him to keep from drowning in the sparkling, effervescent whirlpool. But she fell deeper and deeper into the churning energy. Slade groaned and crushed her lower body against his own.

He did not try to hide his hunger for her. He was hot and aroused and he obviously wanted her to know it. Liquid heat and a tight, urgent tension built deep inside her. He got her jacket open. She found the buckle of his leather belt. And then his hands were gliding up her body beneath her top. When he got her bra unfastened he closed his palms over her nipples. She was so sensitive now that she gave a small, startled cry.

He kissed her throat. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes.” She fumbled with the zipper of his trousers. “I’m not that delicate.”

“Ah.” He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back. “I’ll get the zipper.”

Appalled, she went very still. “Did I hurt you?”

His laugh was half groan. “No. But timing is everything.”

She freed herself from her boots while he unzipped his trousers and got out of his own boots.

He reached into the pack and pulled out a plastic pouch. He tore open the bag and removed a thin emergency blanket. When he spread it out on the ground the tarp proved to be surprisingly large.

He drew her onto the blanket and then he went down on his knees in front of her. He pulled her down with him. She pushed her hands inside his shirt and let the heat of his body warm her. She was about to unfasten her jeans when he stopped her.

“Let me,” he said, his voice low and dark.

He eased the zipper down and worked the jeans over her hips. When he could not get them any farther he pushed her gently onto her back and peeled the denim all the way off. Her panties went with the jeans.

For a moment he knelt beside her, studying her with burning eyes as though he had never seen anything quite like her before, as if he did not want to forget a single detail. With his strong shoulders silhouetted against the night sky, his features starkly etched in psi-light, he could have walked straight out of her most intense fantasies.

He put one hand on her thigh and moved his warm palm upward until he cupped the full, damp place between her legs. Her body reacted instantly to the intimate touch. She lifted her hips, straining against him. He stroked her slowly until she was as tightly coiled as a spring, until she was trembling with the force of the urgent need inside her.

She seized his wrist and pulled him down alongside her. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She tumbled across his granite-hard body. His rigid erection pressed against her bare thigh.

He arranged her so that she straddled him and then he worked her with his hand until she was almost screaming with need.

He gripped her hips and pushed himself slowly inside her. As badly as she wanted him, her body resisted at first. He was too big. She hesitated, not knowing if it was going to work.

He felt her go still and he stilled, too. She did not need to view his rainbow to know that he was fighting for his control. The heat of his body and the sweat on his chest told her very clearly. She also sensed that he would not lose the battle. Slade was always in control.

“Okay?” he got out hoarsely.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Tentatively she allowed him to go deeper. Her body slowly opened to accept him but the steady invasion caused the tension inside her to heighten to a level that was almost unbearable.

“Yes,” she said. She tightened around him. “Yes.”

He locked his hands around her hips and started to move, driving in and out of her in a powerful, relentless rhythm.

In the end, she could not resist temptation. She had to know the truth. She touched her pendant with her fingertips and opened her senses to the fullest extent.

Slade’s dark rainbow blazed in the night. She knew then that he was not holding anything back this time. He had told her the truth. He wanted her and he did not give a damn about the consequences, whatever they were.

But her intuition told her that he still expected to pay a heavy price.

There was no time to second-guess what was happening and she had promised herself she would not ruin things by trying to analyze him. She took her fingers off the pendant.

“Slade.”

In the next moment the tension inside her was released in wave after wave of deep, satisfying currents. She was flung into the heart of the glorious storm.

Slade’s fingers tightened around her thighs. He thrust one last time. With a hoarse, husky growl, he came in a surging, pounding climax.

The silver meadow blazed around them.