All the Colors of Night Read online

  North looked at her. “That pretty well says it all. What’s it from?”

  “‘Hope and Love,’ a poem my dad sent to me just before I met you.”

  “What’s the rest of the poem?”

  “There’s some advice about attending and listening so that you can hear the voice calling to you. The poem is on my phone, but phones don’t work in this atmosphere. I’ll read the whole thing to you when we get a connection.”

  “Okay.” North tried to figure out how to ease into the conversation he needed to have. “There’s something else we should talk about,” he said.

  “If this is about what happened very early this morning—”

  “Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “I noticed you haven’t mentioned it.”

  “Were you waiting for me to bring up the subject?” Sierra said.

  “I think so, yes. And the fact that you haven’t mentioned it is making me nervous.”

  “Don’t worry, it was just a kiss,” Sierra said. “I have a strict rule when it comes to sleeping with clients. It’s a definite no-no. Last night things got a little weird because people had tried to kill us and we had saved each other’s lives and we had just realized you had been poisoned. All in all, a lot going on. You spent hours fighting to regain control of your talent. I was awake all night helping you. Our physical response to each other was a natural reaction to the stress.”

  He nodded. “Got it. Let me know when you run out of reasonable explanations for what was the most amazing kiss of my entire life.”

  Sierra’s eyes widened. “Amazing?”

  “I’m terrified to ask the obvious question but I can’t resist. Was it good for you, too?”

  She drew a deep breath as though she was preparing to jump out of an airplane and she wasn’t sure the parachute would open.

  “It was . . . amazing,” she said. “Definitely the best kiss ever.”

  “Then why—?”

  “I was afraid you were just feeling grateful because I helped you get over the effects of the poison.”

  “I was feeling grateful. But that was not a gratitude kiss. I don’t do gratitude kisses.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Gratitude hugs, maybe, but definitely not gratitude kisses.”

  “Okay,” Sierra said. “That’s good to know.”

  North told himself he was satisfied. For now.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. He unbuckled his holster and put it down on the floor within easy reach. Then he arranged his pack as a pillow. “We’ve got a long hike in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Sierra awoke to find herself intimately tucked into the curve of North’s lean, hard frame. They were both fully dressed, but his arm was draped around her midsection and her butt was nestled into his thighs.

  For a moment she lay absolutely still, afraid to make a move. She had never awakened in a man’s arms because she never did sleepovers. Waking up in North’s arms was an interesting experience.

  After a moment she opened her eyes to the light emanating from the black glass walls of the tunnel. At the mouth of the cavern the radiant green fog was dissipating. Dawn had arrived.

  She was stiff and sore from sleeping on the hard floor but she was reluctant to move out from under the comforting weight of North’s arm.

  It was North who moved first. He released her and rolled to his feet in an easy, lithe movement. He went to the mouth of the cave.

  “Fog’s lifting,” he announced. He turned around to face her. “Time to hit the road.”

  Sierra stretched cautiously, wincing a little at the stiffness in her shoulders, and climbed to her feet.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going outside to pee,” she announced.

  “Good plan.” North shoved his fingers through his hair and squinted a little.

  “Still seeing and hearing things that aren’t there?” Sierra asked.

  “Yes, damn it. But the whispers are not nearly as loud as they were yesterday. I can suppress them now.”

  “Those poisoned crystals disrupted your talent for a few weeks. It’s going to take some time to recover. You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

  “I spent a lot of time wondering exactly how this connects to the past.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Loring is after a dangerous and valuable artifact.”

  North shook his head. “I don’t think this is just about a relic. There’s something else going on here. Trying to murder my father and blind me feels like an act of revenge.”

  They used the woods for personal business and rinsed their hands in the nearby stream before munching on the nutrition bars. They each drank a bottle of vitamin water and slung their packs over their shoulders.

  “With luck there will be coffee waiting for us in Fogg Lake,” Sierra said.

  “Let’s just hope they send out a search party to look for us,” North said. “Otherwise it’s going to be a long day. Ten miles in these mountains is a serious walk.”

  “What if the Puppets decide to return this morning?”

  North shook his head. “They won’t come hunting on foot. They’ll be driving that SUV we saw last night. Don’t worry, we’ll hear them long before they get anywhere near us.”

  “Can you still see the quicksilver energy you detected last night?” Sierra asked.

  “Yes. Shouldn’t be any problem following it back to the road.”

  “I can sense it but I still can’t see it.”

  North started toward the entrance, but he stopped and turned around.

  “What?” Sierra asked.

  “Before we leave I want to take a quick look down that side tunnel to see if I can determine the source of the quicksilver energy.”

  “I’ll come with you, but we shouldn’t go too far. Olivia says people can get lost forever in these tunnels.”

  “Don’t worry. This will just take a minute or two.”

  North led the way into the side tunnel. Sierra fell into step behind him. The energy stream got noticeably stronger, tugging at all of her senses.

  “It’s sort of exciting, isn’t it?” she said. “Like walking through a thunderstorm.”

  North glanced back over his shoulder. He looked amused. “Exactly like that.”

  They rounded a bend in the tunnel. North stopped so suddenly that Sierra nearly collided with him.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He gestured with one hand. “Take a look.”

  She moved a little to get a better view and caught her breath when she saw the tower of glowing, multicolored crystals. The stones were cut in hexagonal shapes and stacked in a way that reminded Sierra of a honeycomb.

  “Someone turned that machine on back in the last century and left it running,” she said, awed.

  “The honeycomb is a highly efficient way to arrange paranormal crystals if you’re trying to produce and generate energy,” North said. He walked to the tower and touched a couple of the stones. “I’ve never seen anything like these before. I wonder what the researchers planned to do with the energy this thing is producing?”

  “Just one more lost lab mystery,” Sierra said. She studied the jeweled honeycomb. “With so much significant work going on, I wonder why the government shut down the Bluestone Project?”

  “No one knows for sure, but there are several theories,” North said. “One explanation is that paranormal research fell out of favor in the last quarter of the twentieth century. People who claimed to take it seriously were considered charlatans, con artists or delusional. There’s no denying that was true about a lot of the so-called psychics of the era. Hell, it still is today. Politicians didn’t want their names associated with paranormal research, so the funding dried up.”

  “What about the other theories?”

  “A lot of peopl
e are convinced the reason the research was shut down is simply because it never yielded any useful technology, at least none that proved practical. The costs couldn’t be justified.”

  “My parents and grandparents told me that everyone from Fogg Lake thinks the program was halted because of the explosion that took place there,” Sierra said. “It became obvious to the people in charge they were dealing with forces they could not control.”

  “That may have been part of the explanation, but Victor Arganbright has another, slightly different theory.”

  “Would this be one of his conspiracy theories?”

  “You could call it that. Victor doesn’t think the government pulled the plug on Bluestone because of the failure of the weapons to work or because of the explosion at Fogg Lake. He thinks whoever was in charge panicked when it became evident the Bluestone Project was on the brink of creating something even more dangerous than paranormal guns.”

  Sierra considered that briefly. “Bombs that might be as devastating as nuclear bombs, maybe? Radiation that might have unpredictable effects on the population?”

  “Maybe. No one knows. Like I said, it’s just a theory of Victor’s. He says he’s come across hints of panic toward the end of the project. Something scared the hell out of whoever was in charge. But he’s never found out what it was that caused the program to be shut down so abruptly.” North paused. “There’s a weird painting in his office. There are a lot of weird paintings in his office. But one in particular stands out.”

  “What’s the subject of the painting?”

  “It appears to show an oracle—not one from the days of Delphi, but from the era of the lost labs. In the painting a hooded figure is gesturing toward a crystal pyramid. A prophecy is written on the bottom of the picture. ‘Here there be monsters.’ Victor thinks the picture was intended to re-create a scene inside the Vortex lab. He believes it was done from a drawing or a photograph. There are a lot of details in the image that indicate the artist knew the setting.”

  A chill arced across the back of Sierra’s neck, lifting the small hairs there.

  “That does not sound encouraging,” she said.

  “No, it doesn’t. The Foundation cleaners talk about hunting down the monsters, but what if we haven’t seen the real thing yet?”

  “A scary thought.”

  North headed back down the side tunnel. “Time to get to work. Let’s see if my glasses survived the fire. With luck, the lockbox protected them.”

  Sierra hurried after him. “The Foundation team in Fogg Lake is bound to have heard the rumors of your loss of talent. What will you tell them when they ask why you’re not wearing the glasses?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. If someone is targeting my family, I want whoever it is to think they’ve been successful in blinding me. For now I’m going to let everyone believe that I no longer need the glasses because my night vision talent has disappeared entirely. That I’ve still got my sensitivity to paranormal vibes and my intuition, but as far as my special ability goes, I’m a burnout.”

  “In other words, you no longer know who you can trust at the Foundation.”

  “Right.”

  * * *

  —

  The poisoned glasses had survived the fire. North decided to leave them in the charred lockbox. “They’re as safe in there as anywhere,” he said. “I’ll pick them up later. The box is too heavy to carry and I sure as hell don’t want those damned glasses anywhere near me.”

  “I agree,” Sierra said.

  They started hiking toward Fogg Lake.

  They did not have to walk very far before a Foundation team in a big SUV found them. The driver introduced himself as Dexter Rose.

  “Figured you’d have enough sense to pull over and stop once the fog closed in,” he said. He eyed the charred hulk of metal sitting on the side of the road. “What the hell happened to your vehicle?”

  “It was sabotaged by some Puppets,” North said.

  “Puppets, huh?” Dexter snorted in disgust. “Just what we need. We’ve got our hands full dealing with the raider crews who keep trying to sneak into the caves. Word of the discovery of the Fogg Lake lab is spreading fast in the underground market.”

  “Arganbright and the others back at headquarters knew they wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for long,” North said.

  “True.” Dexter gave him a considering look. “Are you okay? I heard you had to wear some fancy sunglasses these days.”

  “Turns out I don’t need them anymore,” North said.

  Dexter frowned in concern. “Is that good news or bad news?”

  “Bad news,” North said.

  The members of Dexter’s team shifted awkwardly and made sympathetic noises.

  Dexter nodded, his eyes grim. “Shit. Sorry to hear that.”

  “You and me both,” North said. “But hey, I’m still a pretty good investigator.”

  Dexter gave him a comradely slap on the back. “Never doubted it for a moment.” He glanced at the black metal box. “That thing feels hot.”

  “Lost lab heat,” North said.

  “I’ve got a steel lockbox in the back of the car. We’ll put it inside.”

  The tuner was stored in the lockbox and they all piled into the big SUV. Dexter got behind the wheel and drove toward town.

  Squashed between North and a muscular cleaner named Ted, Sierra peered out the window, curious to see if anything had changed in Fogg Lake since her visit as a teen.

  As far as she could tell, with the exception of a handful of trailers bearing the Foundation logo, the small mountain community looked exactly as she remembered it. Even the battered sign on the outskirts of town was the same.

  Welcome to Fogg Lake.

  Nothing to See Here.

  CHAPTER 32

  The door of one of the trailers flew open. An attractive brunette wearing a Foundation uniform dashed down the steps and ran toward North.

  “You made it,” she said. “We’ve all been so worried.”

  North hauled the lockbox out of the back of the SUV and turned to greet her.

  “Hi, Larissa,” he said.

  She stopped directly in front of him, eyes widening in concern. “You’re not wearing your glasses. Please tell me that means your talent has returned.”

  North gave her a wry smile. “Let’s just say I’m no longer experiencing hallucinations.”

  “That is such good news.” Larissa threw her arms around North and hugged him quickly before stepping back. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Or is it? Your talent?”

  “Isn’t what it used to be,” North said.

  She closed her eyes briefly. “Oh, North. I’m so sorry.”

  “But I’m still a pretty good investigator,” North said. “How is the Fogg Lake project going?”

  “Great,” Larissa said. Her eyes widened with enthusiasm. “You wouldn’t believe what we’re finding inside the ruins. It’s as if the whole place has been locked in a time warp since the night of the big explosion. A real treasure trove. But what on earth are you doing in Fogg Lake? Yesterday afternoon we got word from headquarters that you were on your way up here, but no one said why. Something to do with your father’s situation?”

  “Long story,” North said. “Sierra, this is Larissa Whittier. She’s on the museum staff. Larissa, Sierra Raines, a specialist in authenticating antiques and artifacts with a paranormal provenance in the private market.”

  Sierra gave Larissa a wry smile. “That’s a fancy way of saying I’m a go-between.”

  Larissa chuckled. “Sounds like we’re both in the same line of work, except that your job probably involves a lot more danger than mine does. I’ve met a few private collectors in my time. They can be downright dangerous. I swear, some of them belong at Halcyon Manor.”

  “I agree,” Sierra said.
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  Larissa started to hold out her hand. She noticed Sierra’s gloves and raised her eyebrows in a knowing manner.

  “A bad burn from a very hot artifact,” Sierra said. “I’m still sensitized.”

  “Been there.” Larissa grimaced in sympathy and lowered her hand. “You think your senses will warn you if an artifact is on fire but there’s always that one object that surprises the hell out of you.”

  “I try to take precautions,” Sierra said. She shoved her gloved hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Doesn’t always work.”

  Larissa turned back to North and gave him a searching look. “Any news on your dad’s condition?”

  “For the moment he’s stable,” North said.

  “That’s something, at least,” Larissa said. “If the doctors have stabilized his condition there may be time to reverse the trauma.” She glanced down at the lockbox North gripped in his left hand. “Find an interesting artifact?”

  “Yes. One that might have something to do with my dad’s situation. I want to show it to a witness.”

  “A witness?” Larissa looked startled. “Who in Fogg Lake would know anything about . . . ? Oh, you must mean Marge, the street lady they brought in from Seattle. There are rumors that the Foundation sent her here because she needs protection. How is she involved?”

  “We don’t know,” North said. “Where is she?”

  “In the library.” Larissa waved a hand toward a two-story building in the small town square. “The Oracle is keeping an eye on her.”

  North raised his brows. “The Oracle?”

  Larissa laughed. “Her name is Harmony. No last name as far as I know. You’ll understand when you meet her.”

  “Right.” North started across the square. “Let’s go, Sierra.”

  Sierra smiled at Larissa. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Larissa lowered her voice. “Take good care of him, okay? He’s been through a lot.”

  “I know,” Sierra said.

  Larissa raised a hand in farewell and hurried back to the trailer that evidently served as her office.