“Renee, whatever these people are doing here, get them out.”
“Nonsense. You got to have your special detectives, I should have mine,” Renee replied. “Come along, see the gallery for yourselves. I’d like to know what you can divine.”
“You don’t have to, Alex,” Bryce said quietly. “You can lock it down.”
“I want to see,” Alex said.
And there was a troubling etherealness to Alex. Bryce had never quite seen Alex this far gone before. Bryce was essentially his handler, both in their current cover and with the DWO. But Alex had free will. Short of forcibly removing Alex, there was no way to stop him and Bryce didn’t want to do that to him. There were a couple of phrases that he knew that would take Alex out of a trance, but they were measures of a last resort. Using them would signal a betrayal of trust as well. If Alex was fine, then he’d resent Bryce taking away his control. So, he could either walk out on Alex, which would be irresponsible and leave him unprotected, or he could follow along.
All of Jesse’s work to help him relax had gone right out the window. Bryce could feel his back twisting into the same tense knots he’d had earlier.
“This way,” Renee replied. She led the way out of the room, and Alex followed her.
“What was taken?” Celia asked as the group moved into the hall. Ronald stayed behind, but Bishop remained with them.
“I want to see if the detective can figure that out,” Renee said.
“About what time did it happen?” Bryce asked.
“Ah, ah. I want him to have as clean a reading as possible.”
Great. Now they’d have to rely solely on Alex’s abilities to pick up clues. Bryce didn’t like that at all. The night was slipping away from his control, and not in the fun way it had with Jesse. He clenched his jaw and followed Alex.
The Valless gallery was filled with more artifacts and alien-inspired art than Bryce had seen anywhere outside the DWO archives. The statues and paintings were bad enough, but there was an “art piece” in the far corner, currently shrouded in shadows, that resembled an experimental psychic wave inducer from the late eighteen-hundreds. As far as he could tell, it didn’t have a power source, but it was in perfect condition. If that thingworked, the DWO needed to find a way to confiscate it. In the wrong hands—well, Bryce had enough to worry about without inventing trouble.
Alex paled, and swayed. As he started to collapse, Bryce caught his right arm and held him up. Contact encouraged Alex’s abilities, but Bryce didn’t care if Alex could read his every lustful impulse about Jesse or the depths of his concern for Alex’s well-being. No fallout from a psychic reading was worth him hitting the hardwood floor.
Surprisingly, Bishop caught Alex’s other arm, and between the two of them, Alex stayed upright. He tightened his grip on both of them, and the distress on his face eased. “Oh. Good. Two near-nulls. Get me over to that door.”
The DWO measured psychic ability on a scale ranging from one to ten. The average person ranked between a two and a three. Near-nulls, like Bryce and apparently the cop, were somewhere between zero and one. Psychic impressions tended not to cloud Bryce’s mind and usually he didn’t have a hard time hiding his emotions from Alex. Still, near-nulls were rare. He made a mental note to check out Bishop’s history. Sometimes the DWO needed more near-nulls at a crime scene.
But they still needed to evaluate this room. There was a broken glass door leading out to a patio. Between them and that door were too many statues and paintings of strange visions and terrifying creatures.
Alex’s color was better, but he wasn’t standing on his own. Bryce was too caught up in taking care of him to gather more than a cursory glance. They’d have to go into the room to learn more, but the moment they crossed the threshold, color started to drain from Alex’s face.
On second thought, no, they didn’t need to know more. They could access the police files later. That information wouldn’t be as good as first-hand experience, but Alex would be safer. They’d gathered what they could. Bonnell would have to be satisfied.
Bryce shook his head. “We’re getting you out of here.”
“There’s something strange over there,” Alex said. “I need to find out what it is.”
“You’re exhausting yourself,” Bryce said.
“He’s right, you don’t look good,” Bishop said.
“Alexi, this room makes me want to vomit,” Celia said. She quickly looked to Renee. “No offense. This art is fascinating, and I’d love to talk to you about the collection for my show, but really, how does it manage to make me want to scream looking at it?”
“Unintentionally. The piece that holds things in balance has been taken,” Renee said. “With a collection like this, the resonance is important. One wave must cancel another.”
“I can do this.” Alex got his feet under him and he seemed steadier. Still, Bryce refused to let him go on his own. Along with the cop, they slowly made their way down the room.
When they reached the far end, Alex insisted on letting go of their hands. Bryce clenched his jaw tighter and stayed at the ready. Alex knelt, then brushed his hand along the hardwood floor. He traced a path toward the empty pedestal. “Righteous and nervous. Freedom in destruction. Copper on the tongue. Tingle in my hands. Obsession so pure it’s a void. Deep. Abyssal…”
Alex swayed backward, and Bryce rushed forward to catch him. He went limp in Bryce’s arms, but he was scrawny, and light. Easy for Bryce to pick up from the floor.
That was it. Bryce wasn’t letting this go on any longer.
Without knowing if the backyard had worse psychic resonance, they needed to go out through the front. He made his way toward the hallway.
