He planted a hand against Olivia’s back and shoved her through the entrance. She stumbled forward, struggling to adjust to the eerie lighting and the vibe of the currents.

“You’ll need this,” Spode said.

She turned around in time to see him toss the camera through the doorway. She managed to catch the artifact before it clattered on the green tile floor.

The door started to slide shut.

“How am I supposed to find Vortex?” she called.

“That won’t be a problem,” Spode said as the door closed. “I’ll wait out here for you. I can’t handle the heat inside anymore. Tune the crystal and bring it to me.”

“And then you’ll kill me.”

“No.” Spode gave her a twisted smile. “I won’t kill you. I need you, at least until I figure out how to use the camera myself. No telling when the crystal will have to be tuned again.”

The heavy steel door closed. There was a nerve-jarring clang when it locked.

Olivia stood still, allowing her senses to adjust to the new vibe in the atmosphere. The energy in the maze had felt like the swirling currents of a river. Now she was in the midst of a storm. Her hair lifted and floated around her face. Adrenaline generated by the fight-or-flight response surged through her. She gripped the camera, seeking comfort from the one familiar object in the space.

Her grandmother’s warning crashed through her and spilled out.

“Here there be monsters.”

“No shit,” Gwendolyn Swan said. She sounded weak, exhausted. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

CHAPTER 46

Gwendolyn was sitting on the tile floor, her back propped against the wall. Her hair hung in limp strands around her shoulders, and her jeans and shirt looked as if she had slept in them. But it was the desperation in her eyes and the air of fatigue that marked her as a woman who was barely hanging on.

She was not alone. Another woman slumped beside her, clearly fighting to stay conscious. It took Olivia a couple of beats to recognize her because the hair that had once been caught up in a flirty twist was now tangled and snarled, she was no longer wearing the chic, sexy little red dress and there were no statement earrings. Instead, she was in trousers and a sweater. A stylish backpack was slung over one shoulder. She had a leather-bound notebook in her hand.

“You’re the woman who sat behind me at the speed date event,” Olivia said. “The one who told me I was scaring off all the good prospects.”

“I fucked up there, didn’t I? When you left with Mr. Nobody-in-Particular I figured you just didn’t have good taste in men. Imagine my surprise when I found out you took off with Harlan Rancourt. Some days it just doesn’t pay to be psychic.”

“Who are you?” Olivia asked.