“How does that explain someone grabbing me off the street and drugging me?” Jack asked.

“You said the room where you were held looked like a hospital room. The first thing that comes to mind is that you were targeted for an experiment of some kind.”

“Why would Nightshade want to run an experiment on me?”

“Because you’re a Winters,” Fallon said, impatient now. He could feel it coming together, but some things were still too vague. He really needed to get more sleep. “Think about it. You’re a direct male descendant of Nicholas Winters. Nightshade is clearly having some problems with the formula. Maybe they’re looking for an alternative. The Burning Lamp was created for a similar purpose, to enhance naturally occurring talent and create additional paranormal abilities. Whoever took you may have wanted some samples of your blood for a little DNA testing and research.”

“Great. So I spent twenty-four hours as a lab rat. Wonder how long they planned to keep me.”

“Who knows? Maybe they didn’t intend to keep you around at all after they were finished with you.”

“Think they were going to kill me?” Jack asked.

“I can’t say yet—I just don’t have enough data. The thing is, you escaped, even though you were doped to the gills and running a high-grade fever. You managed to overpower one of their formula-hyped hunters.”

“So?”

“That probably made them very nervous, but it may also have convinced them that you actually do possess more than just one talent. They would interpret that as evidence that the lamp worked all those years ago and that Old Nick’s descendants are genetically enhanced.”

“All right, let’s play this out. I escape, and the first thing I do is go looking for a dreamlight reader and the lamp. They follow me and try to steal the lamp. Is that it?”

“I think so. Maybe.”

“You don’t sound like your usual ninety- eight-point-seven-percent sure self, Fallon.”

“Possibly because I’m not ninety- eight-point-seven-percent certain.”

“I’ve got some other information for you,” Jack continued. “I think that Nightshade or at least the guys who drugged me and tried to take the lamp are working out of a gym in Seattle. That’s where they’re recruiting the cheap-ass hunter muscle.”

“Huh.” Fallon smiled a little. This time there was an almost audible click when lines appeared between certain points of light on the multidimensional chessboard in his mind. This time he was sure. “I like that theory. It sounds right. Tell me more.”

“When I got my memories back tonight one of the things I remembered was that during my sleepwalking episodes I went back to a street on Capitol Hill where the only business open all night is a fitness club. I also remembered hearing the sound of gym machines coming through the ceiling of that little cell where they held me.”

Fallon headed back to his desk and picked up a pen. “Got a name and address?”

“Sure. But before you send in a team to take the place apart and scatter the bad guys, I suggest you have someone get some deep background on it. Check out the financials, ownership, that kind of thing. Follow the money, Fallon.”

“Can’t think of anyone better qualified than you to handle the job.”

Jack went silent on the other end for a few seconds.

“You want me to research the place for you?” he said finally.

“Why not? You’re the best there is at this kind of thing. Not to mention that you’ve got what I like to call a vested interest in the outcome.”

“I’m getting the impression that you don’t have a lot of financial strats or probability-talents under contract with J&J.”

“A couple but no one as strong as you.”

“All right, I’ll see what I can find out,” Jack said. “Meanwhile, Chloe and I are going to fly back to Seattle in the morning unless you think there’s any reason to remain out of sight.”

“I don’t think either of you is in any danger as long as that lamp is tucked away in an Arcane vault. Like I said, Nightshade will have pulled the plug on this operation by now.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“This is all about the lamp, Jack. And we’ve got the lamp under lock and key.”

“Then we’ll go home.”

“Call me as soon as you have something on that gym.”

He cut the connection and went back to the window. The Sunshine Café wouldn’t open for another two and a half hours. It would be nice to be able to go down there right now, sit in a booth with a cup of coffee and let Isabella Valdez clarify his thoughts with her annoyingly positive energy field.

It would be even better to talk things over with her, but she wasn’t a member of the Society, let alone a J&J employee. She probably didn’t even realize that she was seriously psychic. If he tried to explain his work to her she would think he was a whacked- out conspiracy theorist who was not quite right in the head. There were enough people around already who held that opinion. He did not want her to come to the same conclusion.