“They tripped one of Griffin Chastain’s little home security devices. They walked into the abyss trap that guards the backyard. You can’t see it on the video monitors because they can’t display paranormal energy. The shock temporarily stunned Ralph and Joe. They’ll be out for a while.”

He started down the hallway that led to the back gardens.

“Be careful,” Sierra called after him.

“Will you marry me?” he yelled back.

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.” He smiled. “Okay.”

He opened his senses and went outside to collect the unconscious Puppets. He pulled Ralph out of the shallow pool, made sure he was breathing and then paused for a moment to savor the night.

He jacked up his senses and watched the paranormal auroras shimmer and flow across the vast desert sky.

Sierra was in his house. She loved the Abyss and she loved him. She had just agreed to marry him. He didn’t have to be psychic to know the future looked terrific.

CHAPTER 48

The bell over the door of Swan Antiques chimed. Gwendolyn Swan paused in her dusting and watched a stylishly dressed woman with auburn hair walk into the shop.

“I got your message,” Olivia LeClair said. “I’ll be happy to discuss your problem.”

Luring Olivia into the shop was incredibly risky, Gwendolyn thought, but time was running out. The underworld chatter about Vortex and paranormal weapons was getting louder. The myths and legends of the Bluestone Project were surfacing and starting to look very, very real.

She put down the duster and went behind the counter.

“Thank you for dropping by,” she said. “As I told you on the phone, I’m a little concerned about some jewelry I picked up at an estate sale. I would like to hire Lark and LeClair to check the provenance. The paperwork from the auction house looks good but I can tell that the items have a strong vibe. I’m concerned some of the pieces may have been stolen. They came from the collection of a particularly reclusive collector. You know how it is with that sort. They rarely tell the truth about how they obtained their acquisitions.”

“I can do some research for you,” Olivia said. She looked around the room. “I’ll need photographs of the pieces that you’re concerned about.”

“Certainly. The jewelry is downstairs.” Gwendolyn waved a hand at the array of reproductions that cluttered the sales floor. “The items up here are for tourists and decorators who are looking for an interesting garden statue, or perhaps a vase for the hall. I keep the real collectibles, the items with a true paranormal provenance, in the basement. Easier to maintain security down there.”

“I understand.”

Olivia started through the maze of fake statuary, tables, vases and other assorted items. Halfway across the room she halted abruptly. She gazed down at the vintage camera, riveted.

Gwendolyn opened her senses. She wasn’t an especially sharp aura reader—her talents were connected to artifacts. She was, after all, an archaeologist by training. But it wasn’t difficult to tell that Olivia was responding to the old camera.