drawn into the psychic corridor with him only when they were physically close. The link between them didn’t hold beyond a distance of a few feet. Yet, she could have sworn that for a moment she had experienced the familiar feeling of stepping into the time corridor with Jonas.
She hurried painfully up the stone staircase to the bedroom she and Jonas had been assigned. She flung open the door hoping to find him inside but the room was empty.
“Dammit, Jonas,” she grumbled aloud, “where are you?”
He could be anywhere in the huge villa. It was useless to start prowling the halls for him. She would just have to wait until he returned. Verity wandered into the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. She had a long list of questions she planned to fire at Jonas when he finally showed up.
But it wasn’t Jonas who was waiting for her when she emerged from the bathroom wearing her flannel nightgown.
“Slade!” Verity stopped abruptly. Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he looked drunker than ever.
“Don’t worry, Verity,” he said in a slurred voice. “Got the message. I ditched that dumb psychic circle right after you did. Told everyone I was feeling a little sick. Which I was when I thought of Elyssa going into her channeling routine. Got up here as fast as I could. Any idea how long your friend Jonas will be gone? Maybe we oughta go to my room.”
“What in the world do you think you’re doing here? Are you out of your mind?” Verity grabbed her robe and belted it around her waist. She was furious, but she realized that Spencer was too far gone to notice. “You’re drunk, Slade. Or maybe not just drunk—that pipe of yours smells a little funny. Get out of here now!”
He looked bewildered and a bit hurt. He blinked his hooded, sleepy eyes in an attempt to focus on her face. “But you want me here. You invited me up here,” he whined.
“I did not invite you up here, and if you were sober, you’d know that. Now leave. Immediately.”
“Are you just upset ‘cause I’ve had a coupla drinks? Hey, no problem, honey. I’m ready, willing, and able. You’ll see. Can’t keep a good man down, you know.” He grinned stupidly and started to unbutton his shirt. “Might be safer if we went to my room, though. Don’t think I want Quarrel walkin’ in on us, know what I mean?”
“Get out of here!” Verity demanded furiously.
Slade leered at her. “Hey, maybe we got no problem. Maybe Quarrel’s hoppin’ into the sack with Elyssa even as we speak. Is that the way it is? You two have an understanding? Elyssa’s convinced the guy’s some kinda psychic, you know. She likes to sleep with psychics. She and Yarwood get it on all the time. She even made it with me a time or two. She’s one hot ticket waiting to get punched.” Slade frowned. “Think she tried it with Crump but he wasn’t interested. Crump’s not interested in anything except his damn herbs and crystals.”
Verity was getting angrier by the minute. Slade looked too drunk to be physically dangerous, but she wasn’t having any luck in getting him to leave. He was right about one thing: the thought of Jonas walking in on this little scene was not a comforting one. The memory of him holding the knife at Doug Warwick’s throat was still fresh. Verity decided to take action.
She walked firmly across the room and took hold of Slade’s sleeve. She used all her strength to pull him to his feet.
“Out,” she said crisply. “Right now.”
Slade staggered and looped an arm around her shoulders to brace himself. He smiled broadly and leaned against her, trying to plant a wet kiss on her mouth.
Verity ducked and dragged him toward the door, her nose wrinkling at the overpowering odor of liquor on his breath.
“Want to go to my room, huh? Okay by me. We’re on our way.” Slade then lost his balance and started to collapse.
It was like having a huge, limp puppet fall on her. Verity’s weak ankle gave way painfully and
She hurried painfully up the stone staircase to the bedroom she and Jonas had been assigned. She flung open the door hoping to find him inside but the room was empty.
“Dammit, Jonas,” she grumbled aloud, “where are you?”
He could be anywhere in the huge villa. It was useless to start prowling the halls for him. She would just have to wait until he returned. Verity wandered into the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. She had a long list of questions she planned to fire at Jonas when he finally showed up.
But it wasn’t Jonas who was waiting for her when she emerged from the bathroom wearing her flannel nightgown.
“Slade!” Verity stopped abruptly. Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he looked drunker than ever.
“Don’t worry, Verity,” he said in a slurred voice. “Got the message. I ditched that dumb psychic circle right after you did. Told everyone I was feeling a little sick. Which I was when I thought of Elyssa going into her channeling routine. Got up here as fast as I could. Any idea how long your friend Jonas will be gone? Maybe we oughta go to my room.”
“What in the world do you think you’re doing here? Are you out of your mind?” Verity grabbed her robe and belted it around her waist. She was furious, but she realized that Spencer was too far gone to notice. “You’re drunk, Slade. Or maybe not just drunk—that pipe of yours smells a little funny. Get out of here now!”
He looked bewildered and a bit hurt. He blinked his hooded, sleepy eyes in an attempt to focus on her face. “But you want me here. You invited me up here,” he whined.
“I did not invite you up here, and if you were sober, you’d know that. Now leave. Immediately.”
“Are you just upset ‘cause I’ve had a coupla drinks? Hey, no problem, honey. I’m ready, willing, and able. You’ll see. Can’t keep a good man down, you know.” He grinned stupidly and started to unbutton his shirt. “Might be safer if we went to my room, though. Don’t think I want Quarrel walkin’ in on us, know what I mean?”
“Get out of here!” Verity demanded furiously.
Slade leered at her. “Hey, maybe we got no problem. Maybe Quarrel’s hoppin’ into the sack with Elyssa even as we speak. Is that the way it is? You two have an understanding? Elyssa’s convinced the guy’s some kinda psychic, you know. She likes to sleep with psychics. She and Yarwood get it on all the time. She even made it with me a time or two. She’s one hot ticket waiting to get punched.” Slade frowned. “Think she tried it with Crump but he wasn’t interested. Crump’s not interested in anything except his damn herbs and crystals.”
Verity was getting angrier by the minute. Slade looked too drunk to be physically dangerous, but she wasn’t having any luck in getting him to leave. He was right about one thing: the thought of Jonas walking in on this little scene was not a comforting one. The memory of him holding the knife at Doug Warwick’s throat was still fresh. Verity decided to take action.
She walked firmly across the room and took hold of Slade’s sleeve. She used all her strength to pull him to his feet.
“Out,” she said crisply. “Right now.”
Slade staggered and looped an arm around her shoulders to brace himself. He smiled broadly and leaned against her, trying to plant a wet kiss on her mouth.
Verity ducked and dragged him toward the door, her nose wrinkling at the overpowering odor of liquor on his breath.
“Want to go to my room, huh? Okay by me. We’re on our way.” Slade then lost his balance and started to collapse.
It was like having a huge, limp puppet fall on her. Verity’s weak ankle gave way painfully and
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