Forbidden Touch

Chapter Thirteen

"Iris-"Maddox began.

Her sharp look silenced him. She looked back at Quinn. "I don't trust you. I know you see me as a tool in your investigation. But that's okay. I know what to expect. As long as you understand I have one priority, finding my friend. If I can help save other lives as well, I will, but not if it risks Sandrine's life. Understood?"

Quinn's only reaction was a brief nod of agreement.

"It's still dangerous." Maddox said.

She looked at him, wondering why he'd come here after walking out on her at the Poseidon, "I know."

"What makes you think you can get inside the focus group anyway? They seem pretty picky."

"Ms. Browning has an advantage " Quinn said quietly. "She can actually do what she says she can. And whatever they're up to at Telarana Labs, they seem to need what she can do."

So Quinn had it figured out, too. She shouldn't be surprised. She pulled her notebook from her purse and handed Maddox the list of names. "This is Dr.Grinkov's focus group. I got it from someone at the conference."

Maddox frowned. "So Celia was part of it."

"So was Sandrine."

"Then you know where she is. You can stop worrying."

"You know that's not true."

"You said you weren't a mind reader."

She tamped down her frustration with him and leaned forward. "Quinn's right-something's going on with the focus group. Something big enough and dangerous enough that somebody killed Celia Shore before she remembered anything"

A spark of sheer terror rippled out from Maddox, Iris braced herself as she took the brunt of it.

"I don't think she was supposed to be found alive in the first place " Quinn interjected, earning a glare from Maddox.

"I don't, either." Iris agreed, "Someone took a big risk to finish the job."

"What kind of experiment?" Maddox asked. "I mean, it's hoodoo, not chemistry."

She sighed. "Well, to follow my theory, you'll have to at least pretend to believe in hoodoo. Think you can manage that?"

He clamped his mouth shut and nodded for her to continue.

"I looked into these names." Iris pointed at the list. "These two are clairvoyants-they see things happening elsewhere."

"That's what the C stands for, right?" He pointed to the note she'd made next to the two names, "The T is for what?"

"Telekinetics." Quinn said.

"You've probably heard of Uri Geller." Iris began.

"The guy who could bend spoons?"

"Right. Telekineties move things with their minds. Knock books off tables, flick light switches-"

"Okay. M is for what-medium?"

"Right. Sandrine is one of two mediums on this list."

"And E must be for empathy. Like you and Celia."

"Celia wasn't an empathy." she answered tightly.

"She just played one on TV." Quinn added, his voice dry.

Understanding dawned in Maddox's eyes. "She was a fake."

"I think that's why she turned up half dead. They must have realized she couldn't do what she said she could."

"She knew too much about the experiment to be released unharmed." Quinn said. "But somebody got sloppy. Threw her out before she was dead. They won't make that mistake twice."

Maddox pushed his hair back from his face. "What kind of paranormal experiment is important enough to kill for?"

All Iris had was a theory. She looked at Quinn, wondering if he knew more, and if he'd tell them what he knew if he did.

Maddox slapped his hand on the bed, venting the frustration she felt rolling in his gut. "Somebody talk."

Quinn remained silent, so Iris plunged ahead. 'Terrorists are involved. Right?" She addressed the question to Quinn.

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.

She turned back to Maddox. "What do terrorists want?"

"To spread fear in order to achieve their political goals." He spoke as if he were reading from a textbook, but Iris could feel the maelstrom of emotions the mere word evoked in him.

"I've been thinking about the CIA's remote viewing experiments. They spent a lot of money trying to come up with people who could psychically locate a KGB assassin in Europe from the safety of a room somewhere in Langley, Virginia. I bet the KGB was doing something like that, too."

"They were." Quinn conceded. He said nothing further.

"Boris Grinkov was a Soviet scientist before he defected. His area of expertise is actually psychiatry, but he'd have surely known about the KGB's remote viewing experiments. Maybe he even ran them." She looked at Quinn again.

He said nothing, but she could tell by his expression that she was right. More confident now, she continued.

"I did some poking around. Dr.Grinkov claims to have some telekinetic ability, though limited, and he's interested in something called synchronized paranormality"

Maddox's brow furrowed. "Synchronized who?"

She couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Pretty much what I said, too. But I get it now, I think." She pointed to the paper. "Four sets of two, each with a different paranormal gift. The word synchronized suggests that Grinkov plans to use these gifts in concert to effect some sort of action or event."

"Action? Not just information gathering, then?"

"I think action has to be involved because of the telekinetics. Moving things is what they do."

"Okay, so he wants to move something. Then why does he need the other three?" Maddox asked.

Iris sighed. 'This is where it gets weird."

Maddox gave her a look. "It wasn't weird before?"

She couldn't stifle a smile. "I know this sounds crazy. It sounds crazy even to me. But I think I'm right."

"So do I." Quinn murmured.

Maddox slanted a dark look at him. "Right about what?"

"Remote viewing requires clairvoyants. So whatever Grinkov is working on, he wants it to happen somewhere besides Mariposa. Moving objects requires telekinetics. But they can only move things within a certain proximity of themselves. I mean, they can look out the door and move the rake in the yard but not a rake in the yard of some guy in Indiana."

Maddox stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. She looked at Quinn, The CIA agent nodded for her to keep going.

"For the telekinetic to move something in, say, Miami, he'd need the aid of a clairvoyant who could see what's in Miami. But there's no way for them to link their abilities. Not by themselves. That's where I think the mediums come in."

"The mediums? I thought they just talked to dead people."

She smiled again. "They're conducts. Psychic energy flows through them. Yes, they mostly deal with the spirit world, but there are theories, in certain paranormal circles, that mediums really are like pipelines for psychic phenomena."

Maddox's eyes narrowed, "I can't believe I'm sitting here discussing this."

"Join the club." she murmured.

"But you believe in this…stuff."

"I believe in what I know. I know what I can do, I know what my sisters can do."

His eyes widened. "Your sisters?"

"Yes. Lily is a clairvoyant, although she's also sort of, well-" She cut off, not wanting to reveal so much to Quinn,

But of course, he already knew. "Iris's sister Lily can touch people's minds and communicate with them from a distance" he told Maddox. "She found a missing child a couple of years ago. Brought down a senatorial candidate at the same time. That ought to appeal to your anti establishment streak."

"What about your other sister?' Maddox asked.

"Even more complicated." Iris admitted. "Rose can foresee deaths. Sometimes she can also foresee true love matches-"

Once again. Iris cut off the words she was about to say. She could see Maddox's brain overloading, "It's not important."

Maddox rubbed his temples. "Okay, I get how a clairvoyant, a spoon bender and Miss T Talk to Dead People' might fit in. But why the empathic in this little psychic Goldberg device?"

She chuckled at his description. "I'm not sure, Empathics feel things, and sometimes they can help drain a person of pain or emotion, but I don't see how that helps in the scenario we're discussing." She looked at Quinn. "What do you think?"

"I don't have a theory."

Yes, he did, she thought, but he didn't want to share it with her. The blankness inside him made her stomach quiver.

"Maybe it doesn't connect." Maddox suggested. "Maybe that's why they threw Celia back."

Iris shook her head. She looked at Quinn again. "You sought me out in particular. We both know' you know what I can do. I don't think that's a coincidence. Is it?"

Quinn didn't answer.

Maddox turned to Quinn, "Tell her what you know. Now."

"They're an empath short" Iris breathed.

Maddox released a slow breath. Quinn remained silent.

"The only thing I don't get is, how did you seek me out so quickly, Mr. Quinn?" Iris asked.

Maddox smiled, though his eyes glittered with hostility. "Quinn probably knows everything about everyone registered at that conference. If I thought like Quinn-which I don't-I'd pick you, too. You have the job qualifications and the incentive because your friend is missing."

Quinn looked at Iris. 'This is important."

"Everything is important." Maddox said. "Oil is important. Shipping lanes are important. Propping up tin-pot dictators is important-"

"Grow up, Maddox. You know as well as I do who Tahir Mahmoud really is. Can we at least concede that?"

Maddox sighed. "I'll concede that. But if you know he's a terrorist, why is he tooling around here free as a bird? Why don't you have him locked up in some Eastern European hellhole, pulling his fingernails out or whatever you freaks do?"

Quinn slanted a dark gaze at Maddox before turning to Iris. "We want to know what Mahmoud and Grinkov are up to. We need inside Telarana Labs. You can do it."

"Nobody's approached me yet, so why do you think they'd let me in on the experiment now?"

"Mahmoud seemed pretty interested in you." Quinn said.

"Mahmoud wasn't looking at her mind." Maddox draw led.

Iris shot him a warning glance.

"We'll just have to set up an exhibition of your talents." Quinn said. "I can go in as a hotel staff employee and set up an accident. Nothing major-just set up a way for you to take away a little pain from somebody in front of the whole group."

Maddox shook his head, "This is insane. You're both insane, do you know that? Iris, you don't know anything about going undercover. And have you forgotten that at least one empath who went into Telarana Labs came back half-dead, only to be murdered in her own room? You are not going to be Quinn's pawn in this game with Tahir Mahmoud, and that's final."

Iris stood, grabbed his arm and jerked him to his feet. "Excuse us a moment, Mr.Quinn." she grated through clenched teeth, pulling Maddox with her toward the bathroom.

She closed the door behind them and turned to face him. "You're not my keeper. In fact, you made it clear this morning you don't give a damn about me at all, so what the hell do you think you're doing in there, trying to interfere with my life?"

Maddox's eyes narrowed. "I'm trying to interfere with your death. Iris. You have no idea how dangerous Tahir Mahmoud is."

She lowered her voice. "I have a pretty good idea"

"Then you know you don't have any business being anywhere near him" Maddox caught her by the upper arms, pulling her closer.

His fingers dug into her flesh, firm but not quite painful, "I'm sorry I kicked you out this morning. That was a mistake. Go pack your stuff and let's go back to my place."

She stared at him, stunned by the unexpected often "No."

He let go of her arms, sliding his hands over her shoulder and up her neck to cradle her face, "Why not? You don't want to go back with me?"

The heat of him, the strength of her attraction to him clouded her brain. Maybe it was the slow stroke of his thumb along her jaw line, or the feel of his thighs sliding against her hips as he moved even closer, but suddenly she was having a hard time thinking of a good reason not to go back with him.

"I don't want to waste what's left of our time together worrying about whether or not you're alive." He brushed his lips along the curve of her chin. "Come home with me, baby. Let's start over."

She slid her hands up his chest, curling her fingers in the soft cotton of his T-shirt. "Start what over?"

"This." He kissed her, his lips soft but firm. She clutched at him as the world around her swam into a maelstrom of heat and need. "I want you. Iris." he murmured, his mouth brushing over hers. "Come back with me."

She forced herself to pull away before all her good sense left her. "No."

His fingers twined in her hair. "Come on, sugar. Why not?" He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him. His voice was low and raspy, sending a surge of desire flooding into her core. "You want this. I want it too. I've wanted it since the first time I saw you."

She shook her head, fighting the urge to give in to him. "I can't walk away from what Quinn wants me to do."

"Yes, you can." He scattered soft kisses down the curve of her neck. "He can find someone else."

Desire overpowered her, doubly strong as his need tangled up with hers, swamping her with yearning. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled him into another kiss, parting her lips to welcome the slick heat of his tongue against hers. He lifted her to the sink counter, knocking bottles of hotel lotion and shampoo into the sink with a clatter. He closed his hands over her thighs and drew her legs apart. Stepping into the opening until his pelvis pressed flush against hers. He was hard for her, the frantic pulse of his desire racing through her own body, bringing the rapid cadence of her own heart into rhythm with his. She didn't know where he stopped and she began.

"Come home with me." he murmured against the side of her mouth. "Now."

She fought against the sweet spell of his kisses, aware of what he was doing and why. She put her hands on his chest arid pushed him backwards "No."

He struggled briefly against her hands but finally fell back, his back pressed against the opposite wall. He stared at her, breathing hard, his eyes black with need. "Do you want me to say I'm sorry again for this morning?"

"No. I'm not sure I'd believe it anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "What do I have to do to convince you?"

"Telling the truth would be a nice start." She slid off the sink counter, raking her fingers through her tousled hair. "Did you really think you could seduce me out of going undercover for Quinn?"

He didn't try to deny it, "What he's asking you to do is dangerous. I'm looking out for you."

That much she believed. "I can't walk away from this, I need to find Sandrine. I need to get her out of there. She'd do it for me, in a heartbeat."

"Then get me into that focus group. Let me go with you."

That one soft plea did more to melt her heart than his apology or his white-hot kisses. "Maddox, you can't. They wouldn't let you in."

"I hope they don't let you in." he said, his voice low and harsh. "I hope they think you're a fake, just like Celia. Maybe I'll start spreading that word around."

The softening she felt toward him hardened into anger, "Don't you dare try something like that."

"You can't keep me from it."

"Quinn can."

His expression shifted as if she'd struck him. She felt a tearing sensation deep in her chest. "You wouldn't do that."

She lifted her chin. "I will if I have to."

She felt a drawing sensation in her chest. Every emotion she'd felt from him drained out of her and into him. He shut his feelings off from her, packed them away somewhere inside him so deep, it was as if he'd never felt anything at all.

"Fine." he said stiffly, turning his back to her. "You do what you gotta do. It's nothing to me now."

She couldn't seem to draw a deep breath past the pain beneath her ribs, but the ache wasn't coming from Maddox. It was her own pain, raw and deep. She felt as if losing her connection to him had ripped a piece of her out and left her bleeding. She closed her eyes, a toxic cocktail of surprise and regret filling the hole Maddox had left inside her with his withdrawal. "Are you going home?"

He didn't turn to look at her. "What's it to you?"

He opened the bathroom door and walked out into the bedroom.

Quinn looked up. "Finished with your heart-to-heart?"

Maddox didn't answer, continuing toward the door. He opened it and walked out, never looking back. Iris walked stiffly to the chair she'd vacated earlier and sat gingerly, the ache in her chest growing stronger.

"I take it he won't be bothering us anymore." Quinn said.

She met his curious gaze. "Right."

Quinn leaned toward her, his expression sympathetic. But she didn't feel an ounce of compassion coming from him. He was all business on the inside. "It's for the best. He'd get in the way of what you have to do."

"I know."

He stood up, "We have fifteen minutes before the afternoon session starts at the St. George. I'll drive you over and tell you what I have in mind on the way."

Maddox revved the Harley's motor and started up the twisting mountain road at full throttle. The motorcycle bucked beneath him like an enraged animal as it took on the uneven terrain, but he held on and kept going, adrenaline fueling his determination. His anger-at himself, at Quinn, at her-whipped through him like the wind on his face, fierce and unrestrained.

The bike hit a skid and he struggled to bring it back under control. After a heart-pounding moment, the Harley pulled out of the skid and back onto the solid track. Maddox slowed down and settled into a smoother, less hair-raising ride. He'd lost his mind, letting someone he barely knew get to him this way.

Soon he reached the spot he was looking for, a scenic overlook that few besides locals knew about. From that spot on the western face of Mount Stanley he could see most of the western side of the island, from Camelot Beach in the north to Sebastian's hustle and bustle in the south.

The Hotel St.George was a speck of pale pink on the backdrop of sparkling Caribbean blue. It was almost one o'clock. Time for the Cassandra Society's afternoon session.

He gripped the handle bars of his bike, his jaw tightening.

His cell phone rang, vibrating against his hip. He considered ignoring it, but finally gave in, digging it out of the pocket of his jeans.

"Yeah?"

"Hello, Maddox." Darcy's clipped tone was unmistakable.

"What do you want?"

"It's not what I want. It's what you'll want."

Unease rippled down Maddox's neck. "What is it?"

"I spoke to one of my contacts in the Sebastian Police Department. They discovered sophisticated sabotage in the St. George's video surveillance equipment."

"Inside job?"

"Quite likely. I'm going to be meeting with the head of hotel security for a late lunch. I thought you might want to be in attendance."

Maddox frowned. "You want me there?"

"I thought it would be of particular interest to you."

It was, but that sort of consideration from Darcy was about the last thing Maddox had expected. It made him uneasy.

Still, he couldn't turn down the opportunity to find out what was going on at the St. George. "What time?"

"Two o'clock at Poseidon's Courtyard."

"I'll be there."Maddox rang off and cranked at the Harley.

So Nicholas Darcy suddenly wanted to play nice with him, bring him in on the Celia Shore murder investigation? Bull. Darcy was up to something. But what?