Running Hot (The Arcane Society #5)(46)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“Eubanks is still at the hotel if that makes you feel any better. I watched him go into the spa a short time ago.”

“She wasn’t Nightshade then.”

“Probably not.”

“Who was she?”

“I have no idea. Ask Daddy. When he finds out who she is, I intend to give her one of my private performances. I will not tolerate the sort of interruption I was forced to endure today.”

“Vivien, you sound like you’re starting to obsess here,” Damaris said anxiously. “Are you absolutely certain the woman was able to resist your singing?”

“Only for a short period of time. I’m sure I could have destroyed her, given another minute or two. I’m going to hang up now. It has been a very unsettling day. I need to prepare myself for my next performance. Good-bye, Damaris.”

“Wait—”

“Tell Daddy to find the bitch.”

La Sirène closed the phone and tossed it aside. Really, it was such a responsibility being an older sister. Poor Damaris was so easily upset these days. It was Daddy’s fault, of course.

“SHE WAS J&J,” Daddy said.

“What?”

“Relax. I just pulled up the file. Turns out Fallon Jones has Eubanks under surveillance. But not because he thinks Eubanks is Nightshade.”

“Are you sure?” Damaris propped her elbows on the desk, rested her aching head in her hand and clutched the phone to her ear. The hot and cold chills were getting worse. She wondered if she was allergic to the drug. “Maybe J&J turned up a link.”

“No.” Daddy sounded very certain. “Trust me, if the agency had any suspicions in that regard, the Council would have been notified. Nightshade is its highest priority these days. This is a routine J&J operation.”

“How can you call it routine?”

“Eubanks is a registered sensitive who has killed three people,” Daddy said patiently. “The parents of the third victim were members of the Society. They asked J&J to investigate. That’s the only reason Jones is looking at him. These things happen.”

“This is getting complicated.”

“Calm down. I’ll know if J&J identifies the people on Maui as Nightshade. If that occurs, there are procedures in place designed to handle the problem. Meanwhile, let’s hope your sister can finish the job.”

“Vivien wants you to identify the woman who rescued the housekeeper.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to do just that.”

“Then what?”

“Then I will take care of the problem,” Daddy said.

TWENTY-SIX

Eubanks heard the singing when he emerged from the men’s room. It emanated from somewhere in the hotel’s extensive gardens and floated upward to the long veranda. The notes were so pure and high and sweet that at first he thought someone was playing a flute.

Some aria from an opera, he thought. He had never been a fan, but then, he’d never heard anything this thrilling. The music aroused all his senses.

The sound was so alluring, so enthralling, that he momentarily forgot that Clayton should have been waiting for him at the entrance to the men’s room. Belatedly it dawned on him that his bodyguard was nowhere around. A short time ago Clayton had made certain that the restroom was empty and then, per standard procedure, he had gone back outside to make sure no one entered.

Clayton was nowhere around and that was wrong. But the music could not be ignored. It called to him, seductive and inviting.

He forgot about Clayton again and crossed to the railing to look down. The massed foliage of the gardens was so thick it was like looking at the top of a jungle canopy. The moon gleamed on the long fronds of some of the taller palms. Here and there he could see a few of the low lights that picked out the narrow, meandering path that led to the picturesque wedding chapel.

The song tugged at him. He had never experienced anything like this. The flute-like notes were physically arousing. There was no other way to describe the effect. He was getting hard.

The singer was female and he was consumed with desire for her. She was down there in the gardens calling to him. He had no choice but to go to her.

A moment ago he had been focused entirely on his plans to move up into the highest circle of the Nightshade organization. He was being considered for the recently vacated opening on the board of directors. No one deserved it more. Soon he would be leaving the ranks of upper management and going straight to the top of the organization.

He knew that his superiors were extremely impressed with the recent refinement of the formula that had come out of the lab he supervised. There had been some unfortunate incidents in the early human trials but the organization was not the stodgy, timid FDA. The only thing that mattered to the people at the top was success. And he had delivered, big-time.

He had been told that the reason he was on the short list for promotion to the ultimate level of power was because his lab people had come up with a small but highly significant alteration that made it possible to store and transport the drug without the necessity of refrigeration. What’s more, it could now be put into capsule form and taken orally rather than injected. Until now, anyone using the genetically tailored formula had been forced to make certain that the vials were kept on ice or in a refrigeration unit of some kind.

There was no doubt but that he had earned the right to occupy a place on the board. Thanks to the drug, he was becoming a powerful strat talent. It was no secret that most of the people at the highest levels were strats. The ability to outthink, outplan and outmaneuver others was, after all, the master talent. It was what took you to the top.

The other talents had their uses to be sure. But what good did it do to possess a psychic power for charisma or for illusion or for viewing auras if you didn’t know how to use it to achieve your objectives? High-level strat talents used other talents as pawns.

Oh, yeah, he was destined for the board.

But first he needed to find the singer. Nothing was more important tonight. He listened closely with all his senses trying to pinpoint her location. Somewhere in the very heart of the darkened gardens, he decided.

He went down the flight of stone steps. At the foot of the staircase, he started along a narrow path following the lure of the music. When he rounded a corner he stumbled against an object. He tripped and almost fell but managed to catch his balance. When he looked down he saw a man’s leg sticking out from under the fronds of a mass of ferns. The sight briefly shattered the trance induced by the music.