Canyons of Night

Chapter 22

SLADE SAT ON THE SOFA. HE WAITED WHILE CHARLOTTE walked through the small house, turning off the lights. With a few notable exceptions, psychic energy could be worked night or day. But according to most of the Arcane experts, it was easier to focus the strong stuff in darkness. The visible energy from the sun and artificial illumination did not necessarily dampen talent but it could interfere with control. At the very least, it was a distraction.

He did not need any additional distractions, Slade thought. What he needed was absolute control.

Charlotte put out the last light, the lamp on the end table. The living room was plunged into a darkness lit only by the low-burning fire. She sat down in an old, padded reading chair and tucked one black denim-clad leg under her.

“Start whenever you’re ready,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye on your rainbow. If I get any bad vibes, you’ll be the first to know.”

He looked at her. She was a dark shadow silhouetted against the night that filled the window behind her. He kicked up his talent a little so that he could see her more clearly. Her eyes gleamed a little with psi. He could feel the whispers in the atmosphere that told him she was slightly jacked. It was good to have her here, he thought. He was not sure it was wise on his part but he could not deny that it felt right.

“Thanks,” he said, without thinking.

“No problem,” she said.

She understood what he was thanking her for, he thought. There was no need to explain. There didn’t seem to be anything else to add so he sat forward, legs braced a couple of feet apart, and rested his forearms on his thighs. He pulled his senses into a strong, clear focus.

Charlotte removed her pendant from around her neck and held the mirror in the palm of her hand.

He took his talent up slowly but steadily, watching for the thunderstorm of ultralight that was always waiting for him out on the paranormal plane. He slipped past the comfort zone and eased his way farther out onto the spectrum. The first, faint shadows of power pulsed in the distance.

“I can sense the storm,” he said quietly. “Not that far off.”

“You’re in full control,” Charlotte said. “How do you feel?”

He thought about the question, assessing his senses. “Good. But I’m picking up the currents of the heavy energy out there. This is about as far as I’ve tried to go since I got burned by the gas.”

“The reflected bands of primary ultralight in your rainbow are still steady and strong. There are no indications of rogue waves or instability.”

“I hear you but from my perspective it’s like looking into a thunderstorm or a hurricane. I know that there has to be some natural pattern but I can’t detect it from the outside.”

“You always talk about it in terms of a storm front,” she said.

“That the nearest analogy I can find.”

“Maybe it’s not an analogy. Maybe what you perceive is a true psychic thunderstorm or a paranormal hurricane.”

He focused on the roiling, seething darkness. “Maybe. So?”

“Energy is energy. That’s one of the oldest laws of para-physics. More to the point here, para-energy works on some of the same principles as normal energy.”

“What are you getting at?”

“It occurs to me that if your talent is capable of generating a storm of ultralight it seems logical that the forces involved will be organized in the same way that a normal storm is, around a core. Think eye of the storm.”

“You’re saying that I can control this damn hurricane if I find the calm place at the center?”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “We’re both winging it here.”

He saw that the mirrored pendant was glowing with a silvery light in her hand.

“You said everything looks stable,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Looks like the only way to find out what’s going on is to go into the storm.”

“I think you’re right,” Charlotte said quietly.

There was no point hanging around out here in limbo, Slade thought. He would treat this like any other job. Go in, do what needed to be done, and get out. If he was lucky.

“One thing before I do this,” he said.

“Yes?”

“If the center of the storm turns out to be chaos I might not survive it.”

“You’ll survive,” she said fiercely.

“Physically, maybe, but we both know that’s not what I’m talking about. I might not be the same. If that’s how this ends up I want you to know that you are not responsible in any way. I made this decision.”

“For heaven’s sake, Slade, this is no time to go melodramatic on me.”

“You’re going to feel guilty if this doesn’t work.”

“No, really, I won’t,” she said urgently.

“Yes, you will. I don’t want that. And I sure as hell do not want you thinking that you have to continue to sleep with me just because you encouraged me to take the risk of a bad burn.”

“Stop talking like that. Stop it right now.”

“I was going to do this, remember?” he said. “If I get burned, I get burned. If the parapsychs and the medics were right, it was going to happen sooner or later, anyway.”

“What part of think positive don’t you understand?” she said tightly. “Forget about me and concentrate on that storm you’re going to control.”

“Right,” he said.

He went hot, all the way into the zone, just like the old days. Adrenaline and the other potent bio-chemicals associated with raising his senses to the max spilled into his bloodstream in a fierce, thrilling wave.

But a heartbeat later he knew that it wasn’t like the old days. He was suddenly flying into the dark winds of the storm and it was like nothing he had ever experienced.

The hurricane of psi buffeted all of his senses, including his excellent vision and hearing. Lightning flashed and sparked. The currents roared around him, cutting off all other sensation.

An instant later, the world went black and he was drifting through a great emptiness. It was as if he had stepped into the farthest reaches of a starless universe.

This was it, the center of the storm, and there was nothing here. He had survived the howling tornado but he was now officially psiblind. Not only had his para-senses gone dark but so had all of his normal senses. He could not see, hear, touch, smell, or taste. Charlotte had vanished, leaving him alone in the endless storm.

But he could still sense the churning energy around him. That made no sense.

Charlotte’s words came back to him, blazing like lightning in the void. You’re not alone tonight.

He had to find a way to control the stormlight energy. He concentrated with all of his focusing ability, pulling energy he had never before been able to channel.

His senses reemerged with dazzling speed. He could see again, not only on the normal plane but far out on the paranormal spectrum as well. Exhilaration ripped through him. The only sensation that had equaled this was making love to Charlotte. He knew that for the rest of his life the two experiences would be forever linked in his mind.

You’re not alone tonight.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “This works.”

Charlotte smiled. “I am getting that impression, yes.”

The mirrored pendant in her hand flashed with silvery light.

He opened all of his senses to the wild energy that was now his to control. He called down bolts of lightning and channeled currents of ultralight that he had never known existed. The living room was ablaze with paranormal fire.

“Better tone it down a little,” Charlotte said.

“Don’t worry, I’m in control.”

“Yes, but you’re playing with psi-fire.” Charlotte’s voice was edged with wariness now. “Got a hunch my insurance won’t cover that sort of damage.”

“It’s incredible.” He could hardly concentrate enough to respond. A man could get drunk on power like this. Maybe he was already drunk.

“Slade, pay attention.” Charlotte’s voice sharpened. “I think it’s time to shut down.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to crash soon. It’s one thing to push yourself to the limit. The worst that can happen is that you exhaust your senses for a while. But this is about controlling your talent.”

Control. That was the critical thing, he thought. Above all he had to stay in control.

Reluctantly, he lowered his talent. The thunderstorm of energy dissipated quickly. He shut down his psychic senses altogether and sank back into his normal senses. But the intoxicating mix of soaring exhilaration, relief, and euphoria was still sweeping through him. He was in the grip of the biggest post-burn buzz he had ever experienced in his life. He was also more physically aroused than he had been since last night. He would crash soon but not yet.

He looked at Charlotte.

“Down, Big Boy,” she said firmly.

“What?” He could not take his eyes off her. It was all he could do not to sweep her up in his arms and race down the short hall to the bedroom. No, forget the bedroom; he wanted to take her right here on the floor or up against the wall.

“There’s no reason to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said. “Just so you know, your eyes are still hot. I’m not naïve. I get panic attacks if I run flat-out for a while but most folks, most men, get a different reaction.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve heard the jokes. I know about the paraphysiology involved. The bio-cocktail created by a heavy burn results in a big surge of testosterone and adrenaline and other related hormones related to physical arousal. Forget it. We’re trying to conduct a scientific experiment here.”

A tide of urgent need swelled through him.

“I said, forget it,” she added for good measure.

“Okay,” he said.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Okay,” he said again. But he could not look away.

“Let’s talk about what just happened,” Charlotte said.

She spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact way that was no doubt meant to de-escalate the prowling tension in the atmosphere but it had no impact on his arousal. Control, he reminded himself.

“What just happened,” he made himself say, “was that I found out that I’m not going psiblind. What just happened is that I have a whole new level of talent.”

“I understand. But what can you do with it that you couldn’t do before?”

“I have no idea in hell what I have become,” he said quietly.

“Don’t talk as if you’ve developed a new talent. You’re just stronger now.”

“Maybe. Whatever it is, I know that I can handle it. That’s what I learned tonight.”

“I see.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. Her brows crinkled together above the frames of her glasses. “I suppose it may take a while to understand intuitively how to focus all that energy in a useful way.”

“I’ll figure it out some other time.” The deep hunger was eating him alive. He got to his feet and went to the window.

“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked quietly.

“Sure. I just need to work off this edge,” he said. “I’m going to take a run.”

“All right but please be careful. It won’t be long before you need to sleep. Be sure you make it home to your own bed before you go down. People might get the wrong impression of the town’s new police chief if you’re found sleeping on the side of the road.”

He ignored her attempt at humor. He was not in a humorous mood. “I’ve got time.”

He had to get out of here, he thought. He pivoted and went to the door, careful not to look at her. He got the door open.

“Slade,” Charlotte said softly.

That was all she said but it was enough. He turned and looked at her. She was on her feet. He saw that she had replaced the pendant around her neck. The mirror no longer glowed. The yearning inside him became a howl of need. He gripped the doorknob so tightly it was a wonder that he did not crush the knob.

“I have to go,” he said.

“No. I want you to stay here with me tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

She smiled and walked toward him through the shadows. When she was directly in front of him she put her arms around his neck.

“I’m sure,” she said.

The door closed with a solid and very final-sounding chunk. Slade stopped trying to suppress the all-consuming fire inside him. He locked his hands around Charlotte and lifted her into the air. She clung to his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

He did not try to speak because he knew that he was incapable of being coherent. He kissed her instead, letting her feel all of the lightning-hot passion that was flooding his veins.

And then he carried her down the hall to the bedroom.