who he had fed from last night, if they had struggled, if they remembered… If he had killed.
“You’re looking well, Jenny,” Hilda said awkwardly, taking me by surprise.
“I don’t see how,” I muttered. “I’ve been on a bender for two nights and had damn-all sleep for three.”
“Being home, I suspect.” She hesitated, then, “I’ve been talking to Nigel and apparently the Board are quite keen for us to…diversify.”
I looked at her. “In what way?”
“In a decentralizing way. Too much is concentrated in the Centre, with nothing anywhere else in the country. In a crisis, like this, it takes us a day to get here. Which is silly. So, they’re thinking about locating other centers around the country, smaller places, more attuned locally. You should talk to Nigel about the Scottish one.”
Ridiculously, I was touched. I actually smiled at her. “Thanks, Hilda. But I doubt I’ll be around that long.”
Lowering her voice, she said, “You are a strong psychic, you know, strong enough in the tests to make others jealous. You just have to learn to channel it, as you did here. What was the trigger?”
A pair of corrupt, golden-green eyes gleaming at me over the prone body of the man I was desperate to bed.
“Luck,” I said hastily. “He gatecrashed the wedding I was at. I just knew what he was. And the next day, I was able to follow his tracks.”
But Hilda was still on the previous point. “He gatecrashed a wedding? That is very unusual behavior!”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up now. I didn’t think I’d be able to stop it. “He does it all the time. He has a kilt you see, so he imagines he blends in…he just hangs around wedding parties, biting the guests when they’re too drunk to notice or care.”
“And you find that funny?” Hilda exclaimed, inclined to be more outraged than amused. “My dear, it’s not your abilities but your levity that lets you down.”
“Sorry,” I gasped, swallowing down the laughter that was scarily close to tears.
By this time we were on the south side of the river and I led them west, past the hotel and round the corner to the church.
“In the basement,” I said. “You can get in through a trapdoor in the ground, down there.”
Naturally, Frank took charge. “Jenny, you wait here, make sure no one follows us in.”
Hilda, in reality more senior, regarded him with raised eyebrows. She opened her mouth to object to this plan, so I said hastily, “OK. He knows the smell of me anyway, you have more chance of surprising him.”
Frank laughed unkindly. “Jenny, a herd of mad elephants has more chance of surprising him! If he’s there at all, which I don’t for a moment believe.”
Hilda said more gently, “Have you got your mobile phone?” And when I nodded, she went on, “If we flush him out, follow. Just keep us informed and we’ll catch you up. He’ll stick to shadows and undergrowth, but the light’s very poor and if it gets any darker I suspect he’s strong enough to withstand what daylight there is.”
She was right. In typical west Scotland fashion, the sun had quickly faded behind a patchwork blanket of scudding gray and black clouds, which were just about to open on to us. The whole sky was darkening fast. In fact, the air, close and oppressive, seemed to crackle. I had been too absorbed in my conversation and senses to realize before but I thought we were in for a thunderstorm.
Great. I hate thunder.
Hilda said, “If he’s not here, you’ll have to try to pick up his trail again. If there’s nothing, we’ll wait ’til dark. You keep watch, phone me if you see him returning.”
Even better. Standing on a street corner for hours. At least there were no people around. We were between church services. Frank and I hoisted Hilda over the fence without anyone watching, or at least watching obviously.
As Frank skidded down the slope toward the bushes covering the trapdoor, I called, “Hilda? He doesn’t sleep, so be
“You’re looking well, Jenny,” Hilda said awkwardly, taking me by surprise.
“I don’t see how,” I muttered. “I’ve been on a bender for two nights and had damn-all sleep for three.”
“Being home, I suspect.” She hesitated, then, “I’ve been talking to Nigel and apparently the Board are quite keen for us to…diversify.”
I looked at her. “In what way?”
“In a decentralizing way. Too much is concentrated in the Centre, with nothing anywhere else in the country. In a crisis, like this, it takes us a day to get here. Which is silly. So, they’re thinking about locating other centers around the country, smaller places, more attuned locally. You should talk to Nigel about the Scottish one.”
Ridiculously, I was touched. I actually smiled at her. “Thanks, Hilda. But I doubt I’ll be around that long.”
Lowering her voice, she said, “You are a strong psychic, you know, strong enough in the tests to make others jealous. You just have to learn to channel it, as you did here. What was the trigger?”
A pair of corrupt, golden-green eyes gleaming at me over the prone body of the man I was desperate to bed.
“Luck,” I said hastily. “He gatecrashed the wedding I was at. I just knew what he was. And the next day, I was able to follow his tracks.”
But Hilda was still on the previous point. “He gatecrashed a wedding? That is very unusual behavior!”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up now. I didn’t think I’d be able to stop it. “He does it all the time. He has a kilt you see, so he imagines he blends in…he just hangs around wedding parties, biting the guests when they’re too drunk to notice or care.”
“And you find that funny?” Hilda exclaimed, inclined to be more outraged than amused. “My dear, it’s not your abilities but your levity that lets you down.”
“Sorry,” I gasped, swallowing down the laughter that was scarily close to tears.
By this time we were on the south side of the river and I led them west, past the hotel and round the corner to the church.
“In the basement,” I said. “You can get in through a trapdoor in the ground, down there.”
Naturally, Frank took charge. “Jenny, you wait here, make sure no one follows us in.”
Hilda, in reality more senior, regarded him with raised eyebrows. She opened her mouth to object to this plan, so I said hastily, “OK. He knows the smell of me anyway, you have more chance of surprising him.”
Frank laughed unkindly. “Jenny, a herd of mad elephants has more chance of surprising him! If he’s there at all, which I don’t for a moment believe.”
Hilda said more gently, “Have you got your mobile phone?” And when I nodded, she went on, “If we flush him out, follow. Just keep us informed and we’ll catch you up. He’ll stick to shadows and undergrowth, but the light’s very poor and if it gets any darker I suspect he’s strong enough to withstand what daylight there is.”
She was right. In typical west Scotland fashion, the sun had quickly faded behind a patchwork blanket of scudding gray and black clouds, which were just about to open on to us. The whole sky was darkening fast. In fact, the air, close and oppressive, seemed to crackle. I had been too absorbed in my conversation and senses to realize before but I thought we were in for a thunderstorm.
Great. I hate thunder.
Hilda said, “If he’s not here, you’ll have to try to pick up his trail again. If there’s nothing, we’ll wait ’til dark. You keep watch, phone me if you see him returning.”
Even better. Standing on a street corner for hours. At least there were no people around. We were between church services. Frank and I hoisted Hilda over the fence without anyone watching, or at least watching obviously.
As Frank skidded down the slope toward the bushes covering the trapdoor, I called, “Hilda? He doesn’t sleep, so be
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