throat.
“Do you believe that?” she asked evenly.
“No, of course not.” He glanced back at her, amused. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Pyne. I have no designs on your ever so respectable virtue. From my reading of the journal, it’s clear that a physical link of some kind is probably necessary, but I’m certain that it need not be anything more personal than a touching of the hands.”
“I see.” She told herself she should be greatly relieved. And she was. Most certainly. Ruthlessly she crushed the little flicker of excitement that had ignited somewhere deep inside her. “But you say there are those who are convinced that a more, ah, intimate connection is required?”
“You know how it is with legends, Mrs. Pyne. One way or another, a sexual encounter of some sort is always involved in the tale.”
A great mystery had just been solved, although Griffin could not know it. After all this time, she finally understood why Smith had been determined to rape her that night thirteen years ago. He had believed that sexual intimacy with a dreamlight reader was required before he could acquire the powers of the artifact.
“What is it,” she asked cautiously, “that makes you so certain that you are in danger of becoming an unstable multitalent?”
“Facts, Mrs. Pyne. I assure you, I base my concerns on hard evidence.”
“Such as?”
“I came into my second talent a few weeks ago.”
“Good heavens. You can’t be serious, Mr. Winters.”
“It was accompanied, just as the journal warned, by nightmares and hallucinations.”
She watched him open a drawer, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Are you telling me that you have actually developed a new psychical ability?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, madam.” He glanced curiously at the stack of old newspaper clippings and colorful advertising flyers he had uncovered.
“Not that drawer,” she said quickly. “The next one down. What is your second talent?”
He closed the drawer full of papers and opened the one below it. “Let’s just say that it is unpleasant.”
“Mr. Winters, under the circumstances, I think I am entitled to something more in the way of an explanation. Do you refer to your shadow-talent?”
“No. That is my first talent, the one that developed when I was in my teens.” He reached into the drawer and removed the velvet-shrouded object inside. “I have recently gained the ability to plunge another person straight into a waking nightmare.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, at least not entirely.” He examined the velvet sack. “For obvious reasons, there has not been much opportunity to experiment. All I can tell you is that I can trap a man in a nightmare. What he does while he is lost in the dream is unpredictable. On the one occasion I actually employed the talent, the individual collapsed and died.”
“I see.” A chill slithered through her. Never forget that he is a crime lord . Men in his profession were not above murdering people to achieve their objectives.
There was a muffled thunk when Griffin set the black velvet sack on top of the steamer.
“I have reason to believe that my victim had a weak heart,” he said.
She recovered from the initial astonishment. “Well, that might explain a great deal.”
“Certainly.” His voice was cold and dry. “Another man might have merely been maddened by the visions and perhaps decided to jump out a window.”
He began to untie the knot in the black cord that secured the sack.
“You are quite sure you generated nightmare energy?” she asked, curious now.
“There is no doubt in my mind.”
“Actually, that is very interesting,” she said.
He slanted her an unreadable look over his shoulder. “I have just told you that I can kill a man with my new talent, Mrs. Pyne. You do not sound suitably impressed, let alone horrified. Somehow I expected a stronger reaction from a social reformer.”
She ignored his sarcasm, too
“Do you believe that?” she asked evenly.
“No, of course not.” He glanced back at her, amused. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Pyne. I have no designs on your ever so respectable virtue. From my reading of the journal, it’s clear that a physical link of some kind is probably necessary, but I’m certain that it need not be anything more personal than a touching of the hands.”
“I see.” She told herself she should be greatly relieved. And she was. Most certainly. Ruthlessly she crushed the little flicker of excitement that had ignited somewhere deep inside her. “But you say there are those who are convinced that a more, ah, intimate connection is required?”
“You know how it is with legends, Mrs. Pyne. One way or another, a sexual encounter of some sort is always involved in the tale.”
A great mystery had just been solved, although Griffin could not know it. After all this time, she finally understood why Smith had been determined to rape her that night thirteen years ago. He had believed that sexual intimacy with a dreamlight reader was required before he could acquire the powers of the artifact.
“What is it,” she asked cautiously, “that makes you so certain that you are in danger of becoming an unstable multitalent?”
“Facts, Mrs. Pyne. I assure you, I base my concerns on hard evidence.”
“Such as?”
“I came into my second talent a few weeks ago.”
“Good heavens. You can’t be serious, Mr. Winters.”
“It was accompanied, just as the journal warned, by nightmares and hallucinations.”
She watched him open a drawer, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Are you telling me that you have actually developed a new psychical ability?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, madam.” He glanced curiously at the stack of old newspaper clippings and colorful advertising flyers he had uncovered.
“Not that drawer,” she said quickly. “The next one down. What is your second talent?”
He closed the drawer full of papers and opened the one below it. “Let’s just say that it is unpleasant.”
“Mr. Winters, under the circumstances, I think I am entitled to something more in the way of an explanation. Do you refer to your shadow-talent?”
“No. That is my first talent, the one that developed when I was in my teens.” He reached into the drawer and removed the velvet-shrouded object inside. “I have recently gained the ability to plunge another person straight into a waking nightmare.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, at least not entirely.” He examined the velvet sack. “For obvious reasons, there has not been much opportunity to experiment. All I can tell you is that I can trap a man in a nightmare. What he does while he is lost in the dream is unpredictable. On the one occasion I actually employed the talent, the individual collapsed and died.”
“I see.” A chill slithered through her. Never forget that he is a crime lord . Men in his profession were not above murdering people to achieve their objectives.
There was a muffled thunk when Griffin set the black velvet sack on top of the steamer.
“I have reason to believe that my victim had a weak heart,” he said.
She recovered from the initial astonishment. “Well, that might explain a great deal.”
“Certainly.” His voice was cold and dry. “Another man might have merely been maddened by the visions and perhaps decided to jump out a window.”
He began to untie the knot in the black cord that secured the sack.
“You are quite sure you generated nightmare energy?” she asked, curious now.
“There is no doubt in my mind.”
“Actually, that is very interesting,” she said.
He slanted her an unreadable look over his shoulder. “I have just told you that I can kill a man with my new talent, Mrs. Pyne. You do not sound suitably impressed, let alone horrified. Somehow I expected a stronger reaction from a social reformer.”
She ignored his sarcasm, too
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