Dream Eyes by Jayne Ann Krentz Read Free Book Online Page B

energy. It’s a paranormal crystal like the one your brother, Sam, wears, isn’t it?”
    Judson glanced at his ring. The amber crystal was faintly luminous. The stone was responding to his slightly jacked senses,
    “Yes, it’s hot,” he said. “My father gave it to me when I was in my late teens. Sam and Emma got crystals as well. They’re each unique.”
    He used his grip on Gwen’s elbow to give her a boost up into the passenger seat, closed the door and walked around the front of the SUV to the driver’s side. He took another look at the ring. The crystal had been infused with energy that night in Seattle when he’d contemplated the possibility of getting Gwen into bed. It was hot again tonight. Probably for the same reason. He got a little rush just thinking about her. Being physically near her was a real ride.
    Over the years, he had learned that the crystal resonated with the energy of his talent. When he was really in the zone, the stone glowed like molten amber. The ultra-light it gave off, however, was from the paranormal end of the spectrum. Only someone who was sensitive to psi could perceive the heat in the crystal.
    He’d noticed energy stirring on several occasions in the crystal. But until he had met Gwen, it had never heated with this unique color. It was the glow of sunlight, he thought, the same light that had guided him out of the flooded caves.
    He opened the door, got behind the wheel, cranked the big engine and drove out of the small parking lot.
    “Want to tell me what made you decide to give Thor the impression that you and I are sleeping together?” he asked.
    There was a short, startled pause from the other side of the vehicle.
    “Thor?” Gwen repeated, as if she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.
    “Sorry.” He shifted gears. “I think it’s the hair.”
    She smiled. “Wesley does have a certain sense of style.” She stopped smiling. “But I certainly never meant to imply that you and I were romantically involved. Are you sure that’s how it came across?”
    He tightened his grip on the wheel. “Oh, yeah.”
    “Are you positive?”
    “Call it male intuition,” he said.
    “I wasn’t trying to project that sort of impression, believe me. I just wanted him to know that I had—”
    “Backup?”
    “Yes, backup.” She was clearly pleased. “That’s the right word.”
    “Why?”
    “Wesley can be a trifle obsessive when it comes to his show. I don’t want him interfering with our investigation.”
    “Do you think that he would?”
    “Ha. In a heartbeat if he thought it might be fodder for an episode of Dead of Night . What could be more made-to-order than an investigation into the mysterious death of a woman who conducted research into the paranormal?”
    “Is his series really popular?”
    “It has attracted an audience on cable, but between you and me, I think it’s struggling,” Gwen said. “You can only do so many ghost stories, you know. After a while, they all tend to be alike. Evelyn and I did our best, but it’s hard to keep coming up with new angles.”
    “Especially since there are no such things as ghosts.”
    “That fact was the least of our problems,” Gwen said. “Between us, Evelyn and I did a good job of coming up with interesting locations and good scripts because we focused on genuine murders. We stuck with the really old ones, of course—historical mysteries.”
    “The kind where everyone involved is long dead.”
    “Right. The last thing we wanted to do was get sued by irate relatives of the deceased. Anyhow, once we had the mystery and the location, I just invented a ghost for the story. No problem.”
    “Or have to wonder if you should go to the cops with whatever evidence you found?”
    She glanced at him swiftly and then looked straight ahead through the windshield. “There would be no point going to the police in most cases. They wouldn’t pay any attention to a psychic counselor.”
    “No, probably not. But you’re