Burning Lamp (19 page)

Griffin held his fire. It was impossible to be certain of a shot when the target was moving so swiftly. He heightened his own talent, pulling more shadows around himself.

But the hunter did not hesitate. He rushed forward with unerring accuracy, showing no signs of confusion or bewilderment. The red crystal glowed hotter.

The bastard can see me with his heightened para-senses,
Griffin thought.
I might as well be standing in the center of a spotlight on a stage.

The intruder was almost upon him. There would be no chance of an accurate shot. He prayed that Adelaide was right, that he still possessed his second talent.

He reached into the darkest end of the dreamlight spectrum. There were things that even a hunter feared, things that lived only in the realm of nightmares.

The hunter was close now, so close that Griffin had no difficulty at all getting a fix on the other man’s aura. He cast his talent like a whip.

The hunter floundered to a halt. Violent spasms stiffened his body. His arms flailed as though he were struggling with invisible demons. He screamed like a soul falling into the mouth of hell, screamed until the stone walls rang with his echoing cries. It seemed as though he screamed for all eternity before he fell silent and crumpled to the floor.

In the sudden, chilling silence, the sound of movement in the doorway just behind Griffin was as loud as thunder.

“F-F-Fergus?” The illusion-talent emerged from the breakfast room. He no longer bore any resemblance to Jed. Gaslight reflected off his gun and gleamed on the silver candlestick he clutched. He stared at the fallen man for a split second as though unable to comprehend. “Bloody hell, Fergus. What’s the matter with you?”

He did not wait for a response from his stricken comrade. Spinning around, he disappeared back into the breakfast room.

Griffin followed. He needed only a second to acquire a focus but he had used a lot of energy to take down the hunter; he could not afford to waste any more power. He reached the entrance of the room just in time to see the pantry door swing closed behind his quarry.

The only exit from the pantry was the kitchen.

The gunshot exploded just as Griffin went through the swinging door into the kitchen. Fear unlike anything he had ever known even in his nightmares ripped through him.

“Adelaide,” he shouted. “For God’s sake,
Adelaide
.”

“I’m right here, Griffin.” She moved out of the darkened passageway, a small two-shot pocket pistol in her hand. The gun was pointed at the illusion-talent, who seemed frozen by the sight of the weapon. “I thought a warning shot might do the trick and it appears to have been effective.”

Griffin looked at her. “I told you to remain hidden in the wall passage.”

“And I seem to recall telling you that I do not do well in confined spaces.” She studied her frozen victim. “I do believe this villain was trying to pinch the silver.”

 

 

 

“THANK HEAVENS YOU’RE ALL SAFE.” ADELAIDE SET THE KETTLE on the stove. “Evidently whatever was in that vapor was only intended to induce unconsciousness. It was not designed to kill.”

“Well, it appears they wanted you alive,” Mrs. Trevelyan said. “So it stands to reason they wouldn’t use a deadly gas.”

Adelaide winced. “An excellent point, Mrs. Trevelyan.”

They were gathered in the kitchen, all except for Griffin. He was still talking to the intruders who were secured in the library. Leggett had reported that the hunter, Fergus, was still in a state of shock. Judging by what she had seen of his dreamlight currents, Adelaide was not at all certain that he would ever fully recover.

The illusion-talent, however, was babbling freely. Unfortunately, he did not seem to know a great deal. The only thing he was certain of was that he and his companion had been hired to steal the lamp and kidnap Adelaide.

The two crystals the intruders had carried sat in the center of the trestle table. Now that they were no longer illuminated they appeared to be nothing more than red glass paperweights.

Mrs. Trevelyan, Leggett, Jed and Delbert occupied the benches on either side of the table. They were still groggy from the effects of the sleeping gas but their prints did not indicate any lasting damage. The dogs had awakened as well but they were listless and unsteady on their feet. That had not stopped them from gulping down several chunks of leftover roast that Adelaide had given them.

“I should be making the tea,” Mrs. Trevelyan fretted. But the protest was halfhearted.

“Nonsense,” Adelaide said. “I am perfectly capable of dealing with the tea.”

Mrs. Trevelyan smiled weakly. “Yes, ma’am. I do believe that you are capable of dealing with just about anything that comes along. I had no idea that you carried a pistol about your person.”

“An old habit I picked up during my time in the West,” Adelaide explained. “Pocket pistols and derringers are commonly referred to as gamblers’ guns but they fit nicely into a lady’s skirts.”

Delbert braced his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his big hands. “I can’t believe they got past all of us, to say nothing of the traps and warning bells.”

“My fault,” Griffin said from the doorway. “As I told Mrs. Pyne, the Abbey is designed to withstand a variety of assaults but never one like the attack those two launched tonight. Clearly, I will have to have a chat with my architect.”

Delbert and the others smiled wanly at the small joke.

“They took down the dogs, first, of course,” Griffin continued. “Then the hunter went up onto the roof and lowered the gas canisters down through the chimneys into the bedrooms. Once you were all asleep, they broke the lock on the roof stairs and entered the house.”

Jed frowned. “But there’s an alarm on that door. Why didn’t you hear it?”

Griffin looked at Adelaide. She blushed, remembering the paranormal storm they had unleashed in the library.

“We were otherwise occupied,” Griffin said neutrally.

Delbert, Leggett, Jed and Mrs. Trevelyan exchanged glances.

Delbert cleared his throat. “No security system is perfect.”

“No,” Griffin agreed.

Adelaide looked at his grim face and then glanced at the floor near his feet. He had put on his boots but the exhaustion was still starkly evident in his prints. She knew that he must have used a vast amount of power to stop Fergus. She could also see the currents of the edgy energy that, in her experience, was common in the wake of violence. There was pain, as well. She knew his injured shoulder was aching badly.

All in all he needed some healing sleep. She was sure, however, that he would not rest until he was satisfied that the situation was under control and that she and the others were safe. Like the captain of a ship, Griffin Winters would always take care of those in his charge before he saw to his own needs.

“Surprised that pair was willing to break into the Director’s personal residence,” Leggett said. “Given your reputation, that took some nerve. Reckon they thought they could get away with it because they had those fancy weapons.”

“They did not know the identity of this particular homeowner,” Griffin said dryly. “Just that the house was well guarded.”

Delbert snorted. “That explains it.”

“The person who hired them probably assumed that they would not take the job if they knew the real identity of the target,” Griffin added.

“No sensible man would,” Leggett said.

Jed squinted at Griffin. “Did you learn anything useful from those two, Boss?”

“Such as who sent them, for starters?” Delbert growled.

Griffin shook his head. “No, and there’s no point questioning them further. They don’t have the answers I need. The one called Fergus cannot even remember why he came here tonight. The illusion-talent’s name is Nate. He is desperate to offer information in exchange for his life but he doesn’t know much. All he can tell me is that he and his companion were not only promised a great deal of money for grabbing Mrs. Pyne and the artifact but were told they would be given new crystals.”

Mrs. Trevelyan’s mouth tightened. “I don’t understand it. How could they agree to take on such work without even knowing the name of their employer?”

“Fergus and Nate have been a team for years. They offer their skills for hire, no questions asked. They prefer not to know too much about those who employ them. As Nate says, it is usually safer that way.”

“But what of the crystals?” Adelaide asked.

Griffin walked to the table, picked up one of the stones and held it to the light. “The man who hired them provided the crystals and the canisters of sleeping vapor. Nate and Fergus were told that if they focused their talent through the crystals, their natural abilities would be enhanced. According to Nate, that is exactly what happened. He said he always had a gift for altering his appearance in subtle ways that confused the eye but it was never so strong as it was tonight. Evidently the same was true for Fergus. He had been fast all his life but not like he was with the crystal.”

The water was boiling. Adelaide plucked the kettle off the stove and began to fill the teapot.

“I sense no power in the crystals,” she said. “I picked up one a short time ago and tried to determine if there was any energy in it. But it seemed like nothing more than a chunk of plain glass in my hand.”

“Because it was exhausted,” Griffin said. He put the crystal back down on the table. “Nate said that he and Fergus were warned that the stones would not work for long. They were told to use them sparingly.”

Jed contemplated the red crystals. “Like a gun when you run out of bullets. Useless.”

“Evidently,” Griffin said.

Leggett frowned. “How does a person obtain fresh ammunition?”

A frisson of understanding whispered through Adelaide.

“I would imagine that they must be retuned,” she said slowly, thinking it through. “Like a delicate musical instrument.”

They all looked at her.

“Makes sense,” Griffin said. “And doubtless only the individual who created them knows how to tune them. That would offer a measure of insurance, as well.”

Mrs. Trevelyan was baffled. “What on earth do you mean, Mr. Winters?”

Griffin looked at her. “Consider the position of the man who put these crystals into the hands of a pair of street toughs like Nate and Fergus. He gave them very powerful weapons. He would not want those weapons turned against him.”

Mrs. Trevelyan’s eyes widened. “I see what you mean, sir. As long as they must go back to him for ammunition, so to speak, he need not fear that they will kill him to obtain the crystals.”

“I’d like to know where they got those canisters of vapor,” Delbert muttered. “My head still hurts.”

“Mine, as well,” Mrs. Trevelyan said. “And I had such unpleasant dreams. I suspect they will make sleep difficult for some time.”

“Nightmares, they were,” Jed said. “Unlike anything I’ve ever had. Everything seemed so real.”

“I don’t look forward to going to sleep again, that’s a fact,” Leggett added.

“I will take care of the nightmares,” Adelaide said quietly.

The men looked at her.

She smiled. “I have a talent for that sort of thing.”

“Where would they get such a noxious vapor?” Jed asked.

“I am very curious about that, myself,” Griffin said.

“There are certainly chemicals such as chloroform and gases such as nitrous oxide that can render a person unconscious,” Adelaide said. “But I have never heard of anything that could be effectively dispensed in the manner that vapor was tonight.”

She picked up the pot and poured tea into the half-dozen heavy mugs on the counter.

Jed watched her with open admiration. “Never met a woman who could shoot a gun, Mrs. Pyne.”

“I spent several years in the American West touring with Monty Moore’s Wild West Show,” she said. She put the teapot down. “One of the most popular acts was an exhibition of marksmanship by Monty Moore, himself. I was his assistant. He was kind enough to teach me how to use a variety of guns and rifles.”

Delbert brightened. “I’ve heard of Monty Moore. There was an account of his sharpshooter skills in the press last year. His assistant tosses a playing card into the air and he shoots three holes in it before it hits the ground.”

“From the back of a galloping horse, no less,” Adelaide added.

Griffin raised his brows. “And if we believe that, you have some shares in a nice little California gold mine that you would be happy to sell to us for a very good price, correct?”

She smiled. “I will admit that Monty always took the precaution of putting holes in the cards before I threw them out for him. But he really was amazingly skilled with a gun. The audience loved him. In fact, I believe that he had a psychical talent for the business, although I don’t think he realized it.”

“A paranormal talent for handling a gun?” Leggett asked, intrigued. “Now that would come in handy.”

“Trust me, I would never have agreed to hold the apples for him to shoot out of my hands if I hadn’t been quite sure that he had a true gift for his art.”

Griffin closed his eyes briefly as though in prayer and then looked at her. “You held the targets for an exhibition sharpshooter? I’m not sure my nerves can sustain the shock of that image.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.” She gave him the last mug of tea. “What will you do with those two men you captured tonight? Turn them over to the police?”

Jed, Leggett and Delbert stared at her as though she had spoken in tongues. But it was Mrs. Trevelyan who pointed out the glaring flaw in the suggestion.

“He can hardly go to the police now, can he?” Mrs. Trevelyan said. “Mr. Winters is a crime lord, after all. A man in his position doesn’t summon Scotland Yard whenever someone breaks into his house.”