“Which story would that be?”

“The one that claims he has the ability to make himself invisible,” Victor said.

“There’s no such thing as a talent for invisibility.”

“That we know of. There’s so much about the paranormal that we haven’t begun to discover. Theoretically, a talent for manipulating light waves might make some form of invisibility a possibility.”

“Maybe,” Lucas said. “But that would require an incredibly powerful talent, and powerful talents have powerful energy fields. Harlan Rancourt’s field looked so damn normal. Low-grade psychic at best.”

“That’s good, I suppose. It means he won’t scare the daylights out of Olivia when they meet.”

“Trust me, if she walked past him on the street, she wouldn’t look twice.”

CHAPTER 4

If I disappeared tomorrow would you walk into hell to find me?” Olivia asked.

She did not look up from her phone. She wasn’t supposed to be on it. The rules of the speed date event were quite specific about that. All phones, watches and assorted tech were to be powered down for the evening. But she had concluded the event was a waste of time, so she had palmed her phone from her handbag. She was now holding it under the edge of the cocktail table, where the event coordinator could not see it.

The knee-length burnt orange wool coat she was examining was stunning, but sadly, the color was over-the-top for Seattle. Most of the outerwear on the city’s streets came in shades of gray, black, navy and forest green. If she were to stroll down Pine Street in a burnt orange coat, she might as well carry a sign that shouted tourist.

The man who had just sat down on the other side of the small round table did not respond to the question. With a sigh, she looked up. It was obvious from his uncertain expression that he thought she was texting.

“I said, if I disappeared tomorrow would you walk into hell to find me?” she said.

“Excuse me?” He looked around and then leaned forward. He lowered his voice. “I think they said that we should turn off our phones.”

“Sorry.” She dropped the phone into her large handbag, wedging it between her turmeric-yellow wallet and the vintage camera. She took a closer look at her new date. The name tag stuck on his shirt identified him as Nathan.

“Hi, Nathan. I’m Olivia,” she said, going for bright and sparkly. “I’ll repeat my question. If I disappeared tomorrow would you walk into hell to find me?”

“Uh.” Nathan got a deer-in-the-headlights look.

She recognized the expression. Nathan was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she was weird. Within the next thirty seconds he would do what the previous dates had done—excuse himself and take off to find the restroom, where he would hide out until the bell rang.