she liked being by herself, and besides, she had her
iPod and her own personal electric-shock security system that no one—ghost or
human—was getting through.
So
no, she wasn't afraid, but she was, however, cold. Even though it was only late
September, Syracuse, New York, hadn't gotten the memo that it was fall and not
winter.
Although,
come to think of it, she didn't remember being that cold outside.
Whatever.
She'd been on-site for two days, would spend the next few nights here,
recording what she could and then reporting her findings back to Dev. An easy
enough assignment, though she'd much rather be on the Louisiana job. Bringing
in a man who could supposedly control the weather would be much cooler than
sitting in some dusty old mansion recording electrical fields.
But
Dev had grown up in this house, and it was special to him. And he, in turn, was
special to her, so he could ask her to walk through fire and she'd do it
without question. No questions, but probably a lot of cussing.
Her
cell rang, and she thought about ignoring both it and whoever was dumb enough
to call her after midnight, but when Haley's Op code popped onto the screen,
she gave in. Haley was the one person at ACRO besides Dev she could stand.
"Make
it quick, Hays. I have to get back to my extreme boredom."
The
connection sucked, and the fact that Haley was speaking in a low, hushed voice
didn't help. Annika could barely hear the other woman ask if Annika was capable
of shorting out electrical equipment.
"If
I intentionally send a pulse into something, yes. But I don't kill projectors
during movies, if that's what you mean."
"Could
a person short out electronics without knowing it? Just by being in the
room?"
The
lights in the overhead chandelier dimmed. Nonchalantly, Annika stepped out from
beneath the gaudy thing. If something wanted her attention, it would have to do
more than conjure up cheesy parlor tricks.
"The
existence of electromagnetic fields around every known object in the world is a
fact. In humans, the energy varies in both strength and manageability. Some
people can't wear watches because they short out the batteries. Others draw the
dead with their energy. So I wouldn't rule out someone having enough energy to
short out equipment when they do nothing more than walk by."
"But?"
Annika
grinned. Haley might be uptight, but she wasn't stupid. "The thing is,
they couldn't maintain that level of power without burning themselves out or
someone noticing. If your weather guy shorts shit out, he probably can't
control it."
"You
can."
"I'm
special." She ran a current of electricity across the surface of her skin
just because she could. "If he's got some sort of electrical thing going
on, it might be related to his weather ability. Have you established the
existence of that talent?"
"Not
yet. I'm trying to determine if the equipment failures are even related to
him."
"If
he affects equipment, it probably happens during periods of extreme emotion—piss
him off or get him horny or something. Those are triggers for most
uncontrollable powers."
Most
powers, but not Annika's. She'd been in control of hers since the age of twenty
months, when, at the height of a temper tantrum, she'd shocked a babysitter
right into a Swedish hospital's burn unit. Since then, she'd identified the one
switch that made her power unruly, and she avoided tripping it unless she was
alone.
Annika's
ears popped. "Shit. Haley, I gotta go."
She
hung up. An unnatural stillness fell over the house, and then an electrical
ribbon she could sense more than see snaked across the great room where she
stood. God, she hated this supernatural bullshit. ACRO employed more than
enough mediums to handle this—heck, psychics outnumbered people with rare
talents like hers ten to one. Why she got stuck with this crap was beyond her.
The
ribbon floated up the grand staircase. She reached for the volume on her iPod,
prepared to blast her brain with Green Day as she followed
iPod and her own personal electric-shock security system that no one—ghost or
human—was getting through.
So
no, she wasn't afraid, but she was, however, cold. Even though it was only late
September, Syracuse, New York, hadn't gotten the memo that it was fall and not
winter.
Although,
come to think of it, she didn't remember being that cold outside.
Whatever.
She'd been on-site for two days, would spend the next few nights here,
recording what she could and then reporting her findings back to Dev. An easy
enough assignment, though she'd much rather be on the Louisiana job. Bringing
in a man who could supposedly control the weather would be much cooler than
sitting in some dusty old mansion recording electrical fields.
But
Dev had grown up in this house, and it was special to him. And he, in turn, was
special to her, so he could ask her to walk through fire and she'd do it
without question. No questions, but probably a lot of cussing.
Her
cell rang, and she thought about ignoring both it and whoever was dumb enough
to call her after midnight, but when Haley's Op code popped onto the screen,
she gave in. Haley was the one person at ACRO besides Dev she could stand.
"Make
it quick, Hays. I have to get back to my extreme boredom."
The
connection sucked, and the fact that Haley was speaking in a low, hushed voice
didn't help. Annika could barely hear the other woman ask if Annika was capable
of shorting out electrical equipment.
"If
I intentionally send a pulse into something, yes. But I don't kill projectors
during movies, if that's what you mean."
"Could
a person short out electronics without knowing it? Just by being in the
room?"
The
lights in the overhead chandelier dimmed. Nonchalantly, Annika stepped out from
beneath the gaudy thing. If something wanted her attention, it would have to do
more than conjure up cheesy parlor tricks.
"The
existence of electromagnetic fields around every known object in the world is a
fact. In humans, the energy varies in both strength and manageability. Some
people can't wear watches because they short out the batteries. Others draw the
dead with their energy. So I wouldn't rule out someone having enough energy to
short out equipment when they do nothing more than walk by."
"But?"
Annika
grinned. Haley might be uptight, but she wasn't stupid. "The thing is,
they couldn't maintain that level of power without burning themselves out or
someone noticing. If your weather guy shorts shit out, he probably can't
control it."
"You
can."
"I'm
special." She ran a current of electricity across the surface of her skin
just because she could. "If he's got some sort of electrical thing going
on, it might be related to his weather ability. Have you established the
existence of that talent?"
"Not
yet. I'm trying to determine if the equipment failures are even related to
him."
"If
he affects equipment, it probably happens during periods of extreme emotion—piss
him off or get him horny or something. Those are triggers for most
uncontrollable powers."
Most
powers, but not Annika's. She'd been in control of hers since the age of twenty
months, when, at the height of a temper tantrum, she'd shocked a babysitter
right into a Swedish hospital's burn unit. Since then, she'd identified the one
switch that made her power unruly, and she avoided tripping it unless she was
alone.
Annika's
ears popped. "Shit. Haley, I gotta go."
She
hung up. An unnatural stillness fell over the house, and then an electrical
ribbon she could sense more than see snaked across the great room where she
stood. God, she hated this supernatural bullshit. ACRO employed more than
enough mediums to handle this—heck, psychics outnumbered people with rare
talents like hers ten to one. Why she got stuck with this crap was beyond her.
The
ribbon floated up the grand staircase. She reached for the volume on her iPod,
prepared to blast her brain with Green Day as she followed
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