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And if it started to appear, the way the storm powers were beginning to appear?
She shuddered and sat upright, hugging her knees to her chest. Worry about one thing at a time, she told herself fiercely. These were dreams, nothing more, no matter how much they felt like truths. And until she found the boy—the man—she knew as Josh, until she talked to him, there was no proof that anything she dreamed had happened.
And even then, this could all be part of a larger game, one in which she was a major, if unknowing, player. And the dreams might be nothing more than a subterfuge someone desperately wanted her to believe.
Though she didn’t think so.
She rubbed her arms and glanced at the clock. It was close to four. Gabriel would be here soon, so she had better start getting ready. And anything was better than contemplating the monster she might have been.
She climbed out of bed and walked across the room to the bathroom. A long shower made her feel better in body if not in soul, and by the time she’d dried her hair and dressed, it was nearly five.
With no sign of Gabriel.
She glanced at her watch to be sure the clock was right, then picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone number.
No answer.
She swore softly. Either he’d been sidetracked or he’d forgotten. Or both.
She left a message, then disconnected, grabbed the keys and headed out the door. If he wanted his car back, he could damn well come and get it.
The traffic was hell, as usual, and it seemed to take forever to get from the hotel to Wetherton’s. She drove into the parking lot under Wetherton’s building, using her SIU identification to get through the security system. Then she parked near the elevator before catching it to Wetherton’s floor.
Jenna Morwood answered on the second knock, lines of exhaustion around her dark eyes. Her expression could only be described as relieved.
“Pleasant day, huh?” Sam said with a grin.
“You could say that,” Jenna said. “Our dear minister is lucky he still has teeth left. Touchy-feely little bastard.”
“Thankfully, I don’t appear to be his type. Anything untoward happen today?”
Jenna frowned. “Not really. I thought we were being followed several times, but I couldn’t spot a tail, nor could I read any thoughts of ill intent.”
“Did Wetherton do anything unusual? Meet with anyone unusual?”
“Nope. All that happened today was boring politician stuff. I’m hoping like hell this mission doesn’t go on for more than a few days.”
So was Sam—especially now that her dreams were becoming more detailed. More graphic. She couldn’t keep doing her job with any sort of efficiency if she wasn’t sleeping. “Unfortunately, the boss seems to think it’ll continue for months.”
“Then here’s hoping he’s wrong.” Jenna smiled wryly. “Though he generally isn’t.”
“No.” Sam glanced past Jenna as a bump came from Wetherton’s bedroom. “The minister took a nap at this hour?”
“Yeah, the poor man was so exhausted doing all that ministerial sitting about on his ass that he had to come home for a nap at four. He left via the vent at four fifteen.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you manage to get the tracker on him?”
“With all his attempts to feel the merchandise? Oh yeah. He flew to an abandoned apartment complex on Rathdowne Street, stayed there for half an hour, and then went to a low-profile men’s club on Spencer Street. He actually returned about ten minutes ago.”
“Did we manage to get observers at either place?”
“Not the first one, but definitely at the second.”
“Who’d he meet?”
Jenna gave an unladylike snort. “The minister enjoyed several lap dances, and then disappeared into the members-only section. Where, we discovered, a more exotic range of services is offered.”
“So basically, the minister had himself a hooker this afternoon?”
