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The door started to char. In another moment it would surely burst into flames, Virginia thought. She would have to maintain very careful control of the energy she had unleashed.

The door slammed open. Alcina stood on the threshold, the rage on her face as hot as the storm in the chamber.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “You are destroying my artifacts, my chamber.” She brought the gun up. “I will not allow you to do this to me.”

Virginia released Mrs. Crofton’s wrist and moved away from her. Alcina swiveled to follow Virginia. She no longer seemed to be aware of Mrs. Crofton.

“Run, Mrs. Crofton,” Virginia whispered. “I will deal with this.”

Mrs. Crofton hesitated and then hiked up her skirts and fled through the doorway. She disappeared into a dark hall.

Virginia channeled some of the energy at the gun in Alcina’s hand. The weapon glowed red. Alcina screamed and flung it aside. She ran to the nearest glass case, opened it and took out the obsidian dagger. She aimed the tip of the blade at Virginia.

Black flares flashed from the dagger. Virginia felt the blood in her veins turn cold. She could not move.

“You cannot do this to me,” Alcina shrieked at Virginia. “I will not let you destroy me.”

More energy arced from the tip of the dagger. But this time Virginia was ready for it. Her psychical resources were fading rapidly now. She was close to exhaustion. But she managed a dampening current of power.

The dagger heated with paranormal fire. Alcina screamed. Her body jerked violently. She tried to drop the dagger, but her hands seemed frozen around the hilt.

The chamber erupted into flames, the normal kind as well as the paranormal variety. Mirrors cracked, splintered, fractured and exploded. Virginia realized vaguely that the wood walls behind the looking glasses were burning. Smoke boiled into the atmosphere.

She tried to stagger toward the door, but it was a million miles away in another dimension. She knew she would not make it.

She fell to her knees, sliding into the darkest night she had ever known. Her vision wavered. When she saw Owen coming toward her through the storm of energy, she knew she was hallucinating.

“Virginia,” he said.

She looked up at him, dazed.

“I meant to tell you that I love you,” she said. “Too late now, though. You’re not really here, are you?”

“I’m here, Virginia.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, remembering. “You told me that you would walk through hell to save me.”

“Yes.”

He reached down, scooped her up into his arms and ran for the door.

The mirrored chamber exploded around them.

Ashort time later Owen stood with Nick, Tony, Matt and Mrs. Crofton in the shadows of a small park. With the exception of Virginia, who was sound asleep in Owen’s arms, they all watched the big house burn. Flames roared from every window. Black smoke billowed into the night.

“Both bodies are inside the house?” Owen asked, mentally tying up loose ends.

“Yes,” Nick said. “It will look like they died in the blaze.”

“I didn’t know paranormal fire could start a normal fire,” Tony said. He sounded awed.

“There is no hard-and-fast line on the spectrum between the normal and the paranormal,” Nick said. “How many times have I explained to you that it’s a continuum? Get enough energy going in one section and it will affect the currents in the neighboring regions.”

Matt grinned. “Thanks, as always, for the lecture, Uncle Nick.”

“Huh,” Nick muttered. “All I can say is Miss Dean must have set free a lot of very hot glasslight tonight.”

“I don’t know anything about this spectrum you’re all talking about,” Mrs. Crofton declared, “but I must admit that Miss Dean is a most unusual employer. My life has become a good deal more exciting since I entered her service.”

“She’ll fit in nicely with the Sweetwater family,” Owen said.

“I see.” Mrs. Crofton nodded in a knowing manner. “I had a feeling that might be the way of things.”

Owen looked at her. “Plenty of room for you, as well, Mrs. Crofton.”

“Is there, now?” Mrs. Crofton said softly.

“Recent evidence to the contrary, we’re actually a very normal family,” Nick said.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Crofton said.

“Assuming you can overlook our talents and the sort of work that we do,” Tony added.

“Miss Dean says you hunt monsters,” Mrs. Crofton said.

“You might call it the family business,” Owen said.

“Would I get to do more of the sort of inquiries that I did this afternoon?” Mrs. Crofton asked.

“If you like,” Owen said. “Sweetwaters are happy to take all the help we can get, so long as it comes from within the family.”

“My inquiry today left me sleeping in a glass coffin.”

“Perhaps you won’t want to continue with a career as an inquiry agent,” Owen said. “Understandable. There are other positions available.”

“Might have been a different outcome if I’d been properly armed,” Mrs. Crofton said. “A pistol in my handbag, for example, would have been useful.”

“That won’t be a problem in the future,” Owen said.

FORTY-FOUR

Virginia opened her eyes and saw Owen standing at the window, looking out into the moonlit night. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up on his forearms. His collar was open. He had one hand braced against the sill. The silver light limned his face in shadows and mysteries.

“Owen,” she said softly.

He turned and walked to the bed. His eyes heated.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Tentatively she heightened her senses. There was no need to focus. One knew when one’s talent was functioning properly, just as one knew if one’s hearing or eyesight or sense of touch was working. She felt the familiar tingle of awareness.

“I feel fine,” she said. “What of Mrs. Crofton?”

“She has concluded that she has a talent for the private inquiry business, but she insists on being properly armed the next time she goes off to track down persons of interest in a case.”

“I told you at the start of this affair that she is an excellent housekeeper and that I was very lucky to have her.”

“So you did. She seems to think that she is fortunate in her employer, as well.”

“Hardly. I very nearly got her killed today.”

Owen leaned over the bed, palms flattened on either side of her shoulders. “I’m the one responsible for what happened today. I put you both at risk.”

“I was already at risk, if you will recall. That is why you came to me in the first place. You wanted to keep me safe.”

“I failed.”

“Here is what I know, Owen Sweetwater. If you had not come looking for me that night that I went to the Hollister mansion, I would likely never have made it out of that terrible place alive. The girl we found there would have died as well.”

“Virginia—”

“If you had not convinced me that I was in grave danger, and if you had not allowed me to participate in the investigation, I would not have been prepared for what happened tonight. The lock pick you gave me helped save Mrs. Crofton and me. By the time I had finished dealing with Alcina Norgate, I was so exhausted I would not have been able to escape the flames. But you carried me out of that storm of energy and fire. All in all, I would say that you took very good care of me.”

“However that may be, I swear I will do an infinitely better job of taking care of you in the future.”

She touched his hard jaw. “Will you?”

“I have no choice,” he said. “Last night when I carried you out of that chamber you said you loved me.”

“Yes.”

“I realized I had never told you that I love you. I have loved you since I watched you give the reading in Lady Pomeroy’s drawing room. I will always love you.”