It was clear Sierra had made an executive decision to trust him, at least for now. Probably because she didn’t have much choice, North thought. That was not a particularly inspiring realization, but it was nothing if not logical.
“If I don’t come out with the box in five minutes, call Victor Arganbright immediately,” North said. “He’s got a couple of agents on the ground here in Seattle. They’ll take charge.”
“Go for it,” she said. “You’ve got five minutes.”
“On my way.”
“And, North? Be careful.”
“My middle name.”
“Liar.”
He ignored the observation, took out his flashlight and went back through the fence. He loped to the entrance of the building, eased aside the sheet of plywood and went along the corridor. The paranormal light from the box was no longer detectable with his crystal-clouded vision. Once again he took the chance of removing his glasses for a quick glance. The hot currents of exploding energy were definitely gone.
A ghostly image coalesced at the edges of his vision. Hastily he put on the glasses.
He went to the doorway of the little studio and stopped. There was a lot of residual heat in the room—paranormal energy hung around for a long time—but it was weak and diffuse, nothing he couldn’t handle.
The metal box was still on the cupboard shelf, its lid open, but there was no perceptible energy coming from inside. North studied the container for a moment. It was just a metal box. No buttons or switches. No wires. No timer.
He reached up with both hands and took down the artifact. There was a murky, colorless crystal inside. It was about the size of his fist. It was uncut and unpolished. Nothing special to look at. But there was energy locked inside—a lot of it.
It sang to his senses.
What the hell did you build, Griffin Chastain?
He lowered the lid and latched it. Now the energy was almost undetectable. Only someone with a lot of talent would sense it.
He did a quick circuit of the apartment, checking to see if he had overlooked anything that might tell him who had set the light grenade. There was nothing to find. Maybe Matt Harper would be able to provide some useful information.
North went back down the hall and slipped through the rip in the chain-link fence.
Harper was on his feet, leaning against the fender of Sierra’s SUV. He looked exhausted and dazed.
“Did he wake up on his own?” North asked.
“Yes,” Sierra said. “As far as I can tell he wasn’t injured, but something rendered him unconscious for a while. He can’t remember exactly what happened, though.”
“I’ll be fine,” Matt growled. He glanced at the box North was holding. “Bad burn from that artifact, I guess.”
“You touched it?” North asked.
“I—” Matt stopped, looking confused. He shook his head. “I don’t remember touching it. But I’m sure I saw it.”
“What happened here tonight?” North said.
“Beats me.” Matt scrubbed his face with one hand. “I remember parking the car around the corner and going through the fence. I went inside to wait for you two. Everything after that is just—gone. It’s like I went to sleep or something. The next thing I knew I was waking up out here.”
“You don’t remember seeing anyone after you left your car?” North asked.
“No,” Matt said. He frowned. “At least I don’t think so.”
North said, “Where were you before you got into your car to drive here?”
Matt brightened a little, evidently relieved to be able to pull up some clear memories. “I had a couple of beers and a hamburger at a club in Pioneer Square. It’s a place where some of the other go-betweens hang out.”
“The Vault,” Sierra said.
Matt nodded. “Right. I talked to a guy there for a while but that’s it.”
“Most of the customers are regulars,” Sierra said. “Did you chat with someone you know?”
Matt hesitated and then shook his head. “No, I didn’t know him.”
“Someone in our business?” Sierra asked.
“Not a go-between like us,” Matt said. “Figured him for a new dealer or a collector at first but then I wondered if he was just a Puppet. You know how it is. Occasionally some of them find their way to the Vault.”
“Did you tell him you were meeting us tonight?” North asked.
Matt was deeply offended. “Hell, no. I knew you wanted to keep a low profile. I would never discuss business with a stranger, especially one who was a possible Puppet. But—”
“What?” Sierra asked gently.
Matt’s face twisted in concentration. “Shit. I can’t remember exactly what I said.”
Sierra took a breath. “I might be able to help you recover your memories.”
“Yeah?” Matt looked dubious but a little hopeful. “Like with hypnosis or something?”
“Just the opposite,” Sierra said. “I think someone hypnotized you. I want to try to pull you out of the trance so that you can get access to all of your memories. You’ll be fully aware of what I’m doing. You can stop me at any point if you’re uncomfortable with the process.”
North looked at Sierra but he did not ask any questions. They needed answers and she seemed to think she could get some. That was all that mattered.
“Okay, I guess,” Matt said.
Sierra stripped off one leather glove, reached inside her jacket and pulled out a small black locket. When she flipped it open the streetlamp glinted on a reflective surface. A mirror, North thought, or a crystal polished to mirror-brightness. He was intrigued. The paranormal physics of mirrors and crystals that worked like mirrors were still very much a mystery as far as the experts were concerned.
Sierra cupped the locket in one hand and aimed it at Matt. North felt energy shiver in the atmosphere. He knew she had just heightened her talent.
“Matt, you talked to someone at the Vault tonight who was not a regular,” she said calmly. “Do you know his name?”
Matt blinked a couple of times. Then his expression cleared. “No. Never saw him before. Like I said, I figured him for a collector or a Puppet. Real intense.”
“What did he say to you?” Sierra continued.
“He told me he’d heard I had handled the Pitchford auction delivery. He asked me if anyone had contacted me about it. I didn’t let on I’d heard from you, of course. At least, I didn’t intend to tell him. But I think . . . I think I said something about our meeting tonight. Damn it. I don’t know why I talked about it. You know me, I’m careful when it comes to that kind of thing. Hell, I’m sorry, Sierra. I must have been drunk.”
“No,” Sierra said, her tone calm and reassuring. “Your aura shows some indications that you were drugged. Can you describe the man you talked to?”
“I didn’t get a close look at him. You know how dark it is inside the Vault. I’d put him in his midthirties. He was wearing a dark jacket. And a baseball cap. Dark glasses.”
“Dark glasses?” Sierra repeated. “Like those that Mr. Chastain is wearing?”
“Nah. Not the fancy kind. Just regular dark glasses. I think he was trying to hide his eyes so I couldn’t get a good look at him. He had a weird vibe, I can tell you that. It’s one of the reasons I figured him for a collector or a Puppet. They’re all obsessed and paranoid as hell.”
“What about his hair?” Sierra said. “Do you remember the color?”
Matt shrugged. “Light brown, I think. Couldn’t see much of it because of the baseball cap. Sorry, that’s about it.”
“You don’t remember anything else unusual about him?” Sierra prompted. “His shoes?”
“Didn’t notice his shoes. He put me in mind of a professor or a scientist. A doctor, maybe.” Matt stiffened abruptly. “The bastard followed me here. He wasn’t alone.”
“Are you certain?” Sierra asked.
“Positive,” Matt said, growing angrier by the second. “I remember going through the fence and into the apartment house. I heard a noise out in the hall. The next thing I knew, the professor guy was standing in the doorway. He was carrying a briefcase. There were a couple of big men with him. Tattoos-and-steroid types.”
“Muscle?” North asked.
Matt grunted. “Definitely.”
“Can you describe them?” Sierra asked.
“Aside from their size and the tats, not really. It wasn’t like I had a chance to take a photo. One of them had this strange flashlight-shaped artifact. I remember it was transparent. Must have been made of crystal. He aimed it at me and switched it on. There was a beam of light, but it wasn’t normal light. It was like looking into a prism, or maybe a kaleidoscope. Lots of colors. I couldn’t look away. I could feel it closing down my senses but I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Light from the paranormal spectrum,” North said.
“Yeah,” Matt said. He shuddered. “Never seen anything like it. I went down to my knees.”
“What happened next?” Sierra asked.
“The guy in charge, the one who looked like a doctor or a scientist, yelled at the man with the flashlight gun. Told him to shut it off because it wasn’t reliable. Then he took out a syringe and injected something into my arm. Told me I was going to go to sleep and probably wouldn’t wake up. But if something went wrong and I did survive, I wouldn’t remember anything about him or his men or what had happened.”
North held up the steel container so that Matt could see it. “Do you remember this?”
Matt peered at the container. “The doctor handed the briefcase to one of the muscle guys and told him to take that thing out of the case and put it in the cupboard. Then he told the guy to open the lid. Warned him to be careful because it was now set and would explode the next time someone with a lot of talent touched it. You should be careful with that thing. There’s some energy in it. I can sense it. It’s hot enough to be a lab artifact.”
“Yes, it is,” North said.
Matt turned back to Sierra. “That’s it. I don’t remember anything else after that until I woke up out here.”