In Too Deep Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  QUICKSILVER

  OTHER TITLES BY JAYNE ANN KRENTZ

  Fired Up

  Running Hot

  Sizzle and Burn

  White Lies

  All Night Long

  Falling Awake

  Truth or Dare

  Light in Shadow

  Summer in Eclipse Bay

  Smoke in Mirrors

  Dawn in Eclipse Bay

  Lost & Found

  Eclipse Bay

  Soft Focus

  Eye of the Beholder

  Flash

  Sharp Edges

  Deep Waters

  Absolutely, Positively

  Trust Me

  Grand Passion

  Hidden Talents

  Wildest Hearts

  Family Man

  Perfect Partners

  Sweet Fortune

  Silver Linings

  The Golden Chance

  BY JAYNE ANN KRENTZ WRITING AS AMANDA QUICK

  Burning Lamp

  The Perfect Poison

  The Third Circle

  The River Knows

  Second Sight

  Lie by Moonlight

  Wait Until Midnight

  The Paid Companion

  Late for the Wedding

  Don't Look Back

  Slightly Shady

  Wicked Widow

  I Thee Wed

  Seduction

  Affair

  Mischief

  Mystique

  Mistress

  Deception

  Desire

  Dangerous

  Reckless

  Ravished

  Rendezvous

  Scandal

  Surrender

  With This Ring

  BY JAYNE ANN KRENTZ WRITING AS JAYNE CASTLE

  Midnight Crystal

  Obsidian Prey

  Dark Light

  Silver Master

  Ghost Hunter

  After Glow

  Harmony

  After Dark

  Amaryllis

  Zinnia

  Orchid

  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

  Publishers Since 1838

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York

  10014, USA * Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) * Penguin Books

  Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England * Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) * Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson

  Australia Group Pty Ltd) * Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India * Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) * Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Copyright (c) 2010 by Jayne Ann Krentz

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights.

  Purchase only authorized editions. Published simultaneously in Canada

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Krentz, Jayne Ann.

  In too deep / Jayne Ann Krentz. p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-47650-5

  1. Psychics--Fiction. 2. Arcane Society (Imaginary organization)--Fiction. I. Title. PS3561.R'.54--dc22

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Frank,

  with all my love.

  PROLOGUE I

  Fallon Jones: three years earlier . . .

  Paranormal fire burned in the darkness. Auroras of psi splashed across the ether. The night sky above San Francisco was ablaze with light from across the spectrum. Fallon Jones gripped the condo balcony railing with both hands, fighting to anchor himself to reality. There were spectacular patterns wherever he looked: wondrous, astonishingly intricate webs of connections and links that illuminated the path back to the heart of the universe.

  The dazzling radiance of the midnight world was compelling beyond anything he had ever experienced. He was certain that if he only looked closely enough, he would be able to distinguish the light from the dawn of creation, perhaps even grasp a fistful of the raw power of chaos that fueled the forces of life and death.

  "Good night for a walk, isn't it?" Tucker Austin said.

  Fallon turned to look at the figure silhouetted in the opening of the sliding-glass doorway. There was something wrong. Tucker looked as if he stood on the other side of a waterfall. It was impossible to focus on him. He held something in his hand but Fallon could not make it out.

  "What are you doing here?" Fallon asked. He was vaguely aware that he sounded drunk. But he was almost positive that he'd had only one glass of wine with dinner.

  "We both know why I'm here." Tucker moved out of the doorway and went to stand at the railing a short distance away. He kept the object in his hand out of sight against his left leg. "The magic lantern really slammed your senses, didn't it? That's one of the interesting side effects of the device. The higher the level of talent, the greater the impact. You are literally off the charts on the Jones Scale. That makes the lantern the ideal weapon to destroy you without arousing any suspicions. By now you're lost out there on the paranormal plane. There's no coming back from this trip."

  "You came here to kill me," Fallon said. A simple statement of fact, nothing more or less. It was good to know he was still able to think logically.

  "I did warn you that one day your talent would be the death of you." Tucker sounded amused. "I'm not alone in that opinion, as I'm sure you're aware. Fortunately, a lot of people are convinced that a chaos theory-talent as
powerful as you is doomed. And there have always been those rumors about the men in your family who inherit that aspect of the founder's talent. Everyone knows that Sylvester Jones was a paranoid whack-job at the end."

  "Sylvester died more than four hundred years ago," Fallon said. "No one knows what really happened to him at the end. And rumors are, by definition, not facts."

  "But as you have often pointed out, an interesting rumor always has more influence than a boring fact."

  Fallon shook his head once and blinked a couple of times, trying to bring Tucker into focus. The small motion caused the universe to shift around him. The disorientation was so fierce now that he had to clench his hand around the balcony railing to stay on his feet.

  "Why?" he asked. It was a foolish question. He knew the answer. But for some reason he wanted to hear Tucker put it into words. Then again, that had been the problem all along. He had wanted to believe Tucker Austin.

  "I'm afraid there's no other way out." Tucker rested both elbows on the railing and contemplated the night. "It's either you or me this time. Survival of the fittest and all that. The magic lantern has certain hypnotic effects. In addition to creating those fascinating hallucinations you're currently viewing, it makes you vulnerable to suggestion. For example, you feel like taking a walk off this balcony, don't you?"

  "No," Fallon said again. He tried to move, but when he took a step he stumbled and went down to his knees.

  Tucker gestured toward the building across the street. "You know what you should do, Fallon? You should cross that crystal bridge. Halfway over, you'll have a terrific view of the heart of the universe. How can you resist?"

  Fallon tightened his grip on the railing and hauled himself upright. He tried to focus, but the crashing waves of the auroras that lit up the night were too distracting.

  "What bridge?" he asked.

  "Right there." Tucker pointed. "It leads from this balcony to the roof of the building across the street. Just step over the railing and you'll be on your way."

  Fallon looked down. Strange machines moved on the street below. Lights glowed and flashed. Cars, some part of his brain whispered. Get a grip. You're fourteen floors above the street.

  "Don't you see the bridge?" Tucker asked. "It leads to all the answers, Fallon. You just follow the crystal brick road to find the wizard."

  Fallon concentrated. A crystal bridge materialized in the night. The transparent steps were infused with an internal light. He pulled harder on his talent. The bridge brightened and beckoned. But a tiny sliver of awareness sliced through the wonder of the scene.

  "Think I've seen that bridge before," he said.

  "Yeah?" For the first time Tucker sounded slightly disconcerted. "Where?"

  "In the movies. Damn silly plot but the special effects were mildly entertaining."

  Tucker chuckled. "Leave it to Fallon Jones to come up with a logical explanation for a perfectly good hallucination. Well, it was worth a shot. But if you won't do this the easy way, I guess we'll have to go with Plan B."

  He moved suddenly, bringing up the object in his hand. Fallon tried to raise one arm to block the blow, but his muscles would not obey. Instinctively he twisted aside, instead. He lost his balance and went down hard on the tiled floor.

  The object Tucker wielded was a hammer. It struck inches away from Fallon's head. He heard the crack of the tiles. The entire balcony shuddered with the force of the blow.

  Somewhere in the night a woman started screaming.

  "You crazy son of a bitch," Tucker said. He raised the hammer for another blow. "You're supposed to be out of your head by now."

  Fallon rolled away and reached for more talent. The hammer struck the floor of the balcony again.

  He managed to scramble to his feet. The sparkling, iridescent night spun wildly around him.

  Tucker charged him in a violent rush. The promise of imminent death sent another rush of adrenaline through Fallon, producing a few seconds of brilliant clarity.

  He finally succeeded in getting a focus. For an instant the familiar features of the man he had considered a trusted friend were clearly visible in the light from the living room. Tucker's face was twisted with a maddened rage. Fallon realized that he had never known the real Tucker until tonight.

  The shock of being so terribly, horribly wrong brought another dose of clarity. People had died because of Tucker Austin, and Fallon knew that he was, in part, to blame. He summoned up the full, raging force of his talent, reached into the heart of chaos and seized a fistful of fire. He hurled the invisible currents of paranormal radiation into Tucker's aura. Not exactly Zeus with the lightning bolts but good enough to get the job done.

  Tucker grunted once, clutched at his heart and instinctively reeled backward to escape the onslaught of energy. He fetched up hard against the balcony railing. He was a tall man. The barrier caught him at mid-thigh. The force of his momentum sent him over the edge.

  He did not scream, because he was already dead. But Jenny's scream went on forever. Fallon knew he would hear it for the rest of his life.

  PROLOGUE II

  Isabella: one month ago . . .

  She was not expecting the killers to come for her in the lingerie department.

  She was always especially alert at night after work when she walked through the mall's deserted parking garage. She never entered the cheap motel room that she rented by the week without checking for the telltale paranormal fog indicating an intruder. When she shopped for groceries, she was careful to keep an eye on strangers who invaded her personal space, and she never, ever ordered in. No one had an excuse to knock on her door.

  But for some reason Isabella had felt reasonably safe selling women's underwear in the discount department store for the past week. The sight of the two men loitering across the aisle in women's sportswear sent a frisson of electricity across the nape of her neck. When you were psychic, you paid attention to your intuition.

  She heightened her talent cautiously, bracing for the unpleasant chill of awareness. She possessed the ability to perceive the unique energy generated by those who kept secrets. Everyone harbored countless mysteries, small and large, however, so it was a given that if there were people in the vicinity, there would be a lot of fog.

  Her coworkers and the shoppers around her were abruptly surrounded by misty auras. She wrestled with her talent for a few seconds, concentrating on those two men. Although she was prepared, the sight of the hot, seething energy around the pair made her go cold to the bone. Definitely talents of some kind, probably hunters.

  You're the one they're hunting, her intuition whispered. Run. Sure, like she could outrun two trained men who would be as quick and ruthless as a pair of wolves.

  She struggled to maintain her outward composure. Panic would get her killed as surely as any gun or knife.

  The middle-aged woman standing directly in front of her tossed three pairs of lacy thong panties onto the sales counter with a defiant air.

  "I'll take these," she announced, daring Isabella to object.

  The customer displayed all of the visible hallmarks of a woman who had just gone through a nasty divorce. Isabella did not need the psychic side of her nature to pick up on the cues: a pale white line where the wedding ring had been, eyes too wide and tight from a recent surgical lift, new haircut, fresh dye job, trendy, tight-fitting clothes. The woman's life had recently crashed and burned.

  I know the feeling, Isabella thought. Sort of. The truth was, she had never actually had a real life. Still, for a while during the past six months she had come close, so close, to feeling normal. Face it--you weren't born to be normal.

  She managed a polite smile and picked up the panties. "Great buy, aren't they?"

  "Yes." The customer was somewhat mollified now that she was assured she wasn't going to be mocked for buying the thongs. "That's why I bought three pairs."

  "Good idea. The price will go back up next week after the sale," Isabella said.

  She watched th
e two men in women's sportswear out of the corner of her eye while she rang up the panties. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. Goose bumps covered her upper arms. A cold sweat formed between her shoulder blades. Her senses were screaming. Her pulse was pounding. Get out of here. Now.

  Viewed in normal light there was nothing to mark the two hunters as anything other than what they appeared to be, bored shopping escorts waiting for their companions to come out of the dressing rooms. But Isabella noticed that customers in their vicinity edged away from them. The two were probably really cranked, preparing to close in on their prey. As a result they were giving off so much energy that even people without any measurable talent sensed the threat on a subliminal level.

  "Excuse me, I'm in a hurry here," the woman on the other side of the counter snapped.

  "Sorry." Isabella smiled apologetically. "Cash register is a little slow today."

  She pushed the credit card slip and a pen across the counter. The woman scrawled her name and grabbed the shopping bag containing the thongs.

  Isabella forced herself to smile at the next customer in line, a young mother with a baby in a stroller.

  "Can I help you?" Isabella asked. Run.

  "I want to buy this." The customer put a pale blue nightgown on the counter and leaned down to pick up the small plush toy the baby had tossed out of the stroller.

  "This is such a pretty color," Isabella remarked, falling back on the one day of training the department store had given her at the start of her employment. Always compliment the customer's good taste. She folded the nightgown in the precise way she had been instructed and reached for a sheet of tissue. "Such a beautiful shade of blue."

  The woman straightened, brightening immediately.

  "Yes," she said. "It's my favorite. Good price, too."

  "You were smart to get here early for the sale." Isabella started to wrap some tissue around the nightgown and paused, frowning. "Hmm."

  "What's wrong?"

  "There's a small spot on this gown," Isabella said.

  Alarmed, the woman leaned over the counter. "Where?"