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Phoebe looked toward the doorway. “This is their version of night. It’s when they are most active. Lately they’ve been getting more aggressive during the green cycle.”
“Who told you that?” Talia asked.
“I heard the Night Gardener say that to her assistant.” Phoebe grimaced. “Googlemad scientistand you’ll find her picture.”
“Where is she now?” Luke asked.
“Probably out in the gardens collecting specimens,” Phoebe said. “She spends a lot of time with the plants.”
“We may need weapons to fight off the plants on the way out,” Luke said.
He tucked the pistol into his belt and crossed the room to the array of oversized gardening tools. He selected two wicked-looking pruning shears and a long gardening fork. After a moment’s consideration he picked up a tool belt studded with various implements and slung it over one shoulder.
He went back to Talia and Phoebe and handed each of them a pruner.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “Phoebe in the middle. Talia, you’re number three.”
“Got it,” she said.
“How dare you interfere with my research?”
The screech of outrage came from the doorway of the laboratory.Talia and the others turned to see Pomona Finch on the threshold. She was wearing a white lab coat, white trousers, and white booties over her shoes. A white cap covered her hair. She gripped a canister with a trigger in a gloved hand. There were no markings on the canister, but Talia was sure it was not a fire extinguisher.
“You kidnapped Phoebe,” Luke said. “That happens to be illegal. We’re taking her back to the surface.”
Energy whispered in the atmosphere around him. Talia heard the low, mesmeric note in his voice and knew he was pulling on his talent.
“I didn’t kidnap her,” Pomona snapped. “Nathan brought her to me. She’s on the list, you see. She is not an ideal candidate, but one must work with what’s available. In a few more days I’ll be ready to treat her with the new version of the drug.”
“You’re not going to be running any more experiments, Finch,” Luke said. “We’re leaving now.”
He started forward, the lethal-looking gardening fork gripped rather casually in one hand. But Pomona did not appear intimidated. She aimed the nozzle of the canister at Luke.
“Stop or I’ll spray you with the herbicide,” Pomona said. “I’m not sure what it will do to a human. Haven’t had an opportunity to run that experiment. But I know what it can do to the plants out there in the gardens. It is the only thing that can control them now.”
“Well, shit,” Luke said. “I don’t think I’ve run into this particular problem before.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Luke Rand wasa failed experiment. He should have gone insane. He should have been dead by now.
The only good news was that there was no indication he had any real talent, let alone one that could kill. As for Talia March, she was merely a low-level talent like the other two women involved withThe Lost Night Files. Yet somehow Rand and March, working together, had not only managed to locate Night Island but had forced the shutdown of the Cold Fire project. There was only one logical conclusion—Rand’s memories were returning. So much for the long-term amnesia effects of the sedative.
Fucked. Cold Fire 2.0 was fucked.
Nathan Gill shoved his way through the plant-choked conservatory, careful to stay on the radiant stone path. He wore heavy gloves, a leather jacket, and boots. To date none of the specimens inside the glass-and-steel walls were showing signs of turning carnivorous, but given what was happening down below, he didn’t want to take any chances. Finch had warned him there was an elevated risk that some of the fungi might escape the lab. Once that happened, she said, itwould be only a matter of time before the gardens on the surface became a serious threat.
The fucking fungi ruled the world and did it from underground.
A year ago his innate sensitivity to energy from the paranormal end of the spectrum had led him to the small antiquarian bookstore where he had discovered the logbook. The record of the decades-old experiments had made it possible for him to locate the entrance to the underground lab on Night Island.
Acquiring control of the island had been a simple process of altering the old tax and property records online, but it had taken months to set up the project. He’d had to find and hire the Venners. Then he’d had to track down the two disgraced pharmaceutical researchers who had been willing to take a contract to run the first round of Cold Fire experiments. Personnel management was tricky when you were forced to work with expendable employees, people who would not be missed.
Six months ago the project had finally gotten underway. Unfortunately, the first round of experiments had ended in disaster. The two test subjects had lapsed into comas and died. The researchers had tweaked the serum. There had been two more failures. Both subjects had gone mad and had to be terminated.
At last, three months ago, there had been a success. Unfortunately, there had also been another failure—Rand. But instead of sliding into a coma he had evidently awakened in a state of acute disorientation, grabbed a scalpel, slit the throats of the two researchers, and escaped the lab.
He should have gone insane within weeks, because he had never received regular boosters. He should havedied.
