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nowhere else to turn,” he said quietly. “You’re my only hope.”
    “Really?”
    Looking spectacularly unconvinced, she got up and walked around to the front of her desk. A trickle of unease sparked across his senses. Her change of position in the room had been very casual, maybe a little too smooth. He wondered if she was getting ready to sic the dog on him while she made a run for the door. Maybe he was scaring her. Not that she looked frightened, he thought. If anything, she appeared interested, maybe curious. Intrigued.
    Interested, curious and intrigued didn’t begin to describe his reaction to her. Until he had walked into her office all he had known about her was what he’d lifted from the J&J files. Her entire family had an extensive and wide-ranging history with Arcane, very little of it reputable. He’d figured that was a plus for him. According to the files, she was ideal for his purposes, a strong dreamlight reader who had connections in the gray world of the underground collectors’ market. And she lived in Seattle. Talk about convenient. The other dreamlight talents he’d located on the West Coast were down in California.
    Chloe was perfect.
    What he hadn’t anticipated was the heat lightning of sexual awareness that had crackled through him when he saw her sitting there, prim and composed, behind her desk. It was as if some elemental force deep inside him was stirring. That was not good. What with the blackouts, the nightmares, the hallucinations and the very real possibility that he might have to go on the run for the rest of his weird life, he had enough to deal with. He definitely should not be thinking about sleeping with the private investigator he was trying to hire.
    He sure as hell shouldn’t be wasting time trying to figure out what it was that attracted him to her, either. On the surface she looked like a stern, uptight school mistress. Not his type at all. Sharp, insightful intelligence animated vivid blue-green eyes and a face that otherwise would not have stood out in a crowd. Her sunset red hair was pulled back into a tight twist at the nape of her neck.
    She was dressed in a businesslike black pantsuit with a white silk shell and a pair of black, high-heeled boots. Her jewelry was limited to a couple of small gold studs in her ears and a gold wristwatch with a black leather band. He estimated her to be in her early thirties, but there was no sign of a wedding band.
    What had kicked him in the gut when he came through the door was the aura of energy about her. It translated directly into power, and power was always compelling, especially when it came in an unexpected package like Chloe Harper. He realized then that if he had simply passed her on the street, not knowing who she was, he would have looked twice. Make that three times. Turned around maybe. Followed her? Tried to introduce himself?
    Oh, shit. This was not good. He did not need this kind of distraction. Not now. He should be concentrating on staying alive. There were priorities here.
    Chloe lounged against the front edge of her desk, crossed one booted foot over the other and reached back very casually to brace her hands on the desktop behind her.
    “About the old Winters legend,” she began.
    She stiffened abruptly, gasped and snatched her hands off the desktop. Eyes widening a little, she turned to look at the place on the desk where one of his palms had been resting a moment ago.
    Acting like she had just touched a red-hot stove, he thought. What was going on?
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “Yes, fine.” She sounded a little breathless. She slanted him a long, impossible-to-read look. “Very well, Mr. Winters,” she said briskly. “Tell me your story. But without the drama if you don’t mind.”
    “Sure.” He glanced at the desktop. “But would you mind telling me what gave you that shock just now?”
    She frowned. “I’m a dreamlight reader.”
    “I know. It’s in the J&J files. Your talent is one of the