“Absolutely,” Isabella said. “I happen to be an expert on the subject of conspiracy theorists. I can spot ’em a mile away. That’s one of the assets I bring to the firm, by the way. Trust me, Fallon Jones is no conspiracy freak. Polar opposite, in fact.”

Hal scowled, but Liz and Adrian and several others were starting to look intrigued.

“All right,” Adrian said. “I give up. What is the polar opposite of a conspiracy freak?”

Isabella smiled. “A real detective, of course.”

This time a few whispers rippled across the gathering crowd.

Isabella reached for another canapé. “Don’t you get it? Fallon Jones thinks like a detective, not a conspiracy kook. He uses his talent to link facts and make connections, but he doesn’t invent those facts and connections and he doesn’t manipulate them the way true conspiracy nuts do. He’s a psychic Sherlock Holmes. Holmes and Jones would be the last people on earth to be sucked into a conspiracy fantasy.”

It dawned on her that the crowd was no longer staring at her. Everyone’s attention was focused on a point behind her.

She turned around and saw Fallon watching her with an inscrutable expression. There was a little heat in his eyes.

“What do you say we go outside and get some fresh air, Watson?” he said.

“Watson got to carry a gun.”

“Forget the gun.”

“You never let me have any fun on the job.”

“Not true. I let you find a serial killer and some dead bodies, didn’t I?”

“Well, there is that.” She plucked two more hors d’oeuvres off the tray. “You’ve got to try one of these little puff pastry thingies. They’re yummy.”

“Thanks,” Fallon said.

He took a canapé in one hand, nodded briefly at the small crowd watching the scene and wrapped his other hand around Isabella’s arm. He ate the puff pastry as he steered her toward the glass doors that opened onto the terrace.

“Good, aren’t they?” Isabella said.

“Not as good as Marge’s muffins.”

“No,” she agreed. “Nothing else is that good.”

“Except your grandmother’s ginger soup.”

“Except for that.”

They stood at the terrace railing and looked out at the night. The towering red rocks that gave Sedona so much character were transformed into dark, looming monoliths beneath the crystal-sharp moon. Isabella shivered a little with a bone-deep awareness.

“It’s true what they say about this place,” she said. “You really can feel the energy.”

“It’s not a nexus because it lacks ocean currents, but it definitely has its own kind of power,” Fallon agreed. “There are several vortexes in the region.”

“I can see why the Society likes to hold some of its meetings here.”

“Trust me, Zack and the Council didn’t choose this location just because it sits on a vortex site.”

“No?” She glanced at him. “Why, then?”

“Because it’s got a certain reputation. Notice all those brochures in the lobby advertising vortex tours, crystal healing and spiritual guides?”

“I see what you mean. You can hold a convention of psychics here and no one will think it’s weird.”

“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Fallon said.

She shivered again, this time because of the chill in the air. “It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be. This is supposed to be a desert.”

“It’s January and the altitude here is forty-five hundred feet,” Fallon said. “We’re lucky it’s not snowing.”

“Leave it to you to know exactly why I’m freezing my rear off out here.” She folded her arms around herself. “I should have thought to check the weather report when I packed for this trip. Guess I was a little too focused on the dress and shoes. I was so worried they wouldn’t arrive in time.”

Fallon looked at the dress. “The dress is nice.”

“Glad you approve, but don’t thank me until you get the bill.”

“No problem. It’s a business expense.”

“Right.”

Nothing personal, she thought. It wasn’t as if he had bought the dress for her as a gift. Just a business expense.

“The dress was pretty pricey,” she warned.

He shrugged.

“But not as expensive as using one of the Arcane corporate jets to get here,” she added.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I had to spend some bucks on the dress because it’s hard to fake quality in a fancy evening gown, you see. But the shoes are a knockoff.”

“Don’t worry about it, Isabella. Like you said, the jet cost a hell of a lot more.”

“Okay.”

He took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. It carried the warmth and scent of his body. She suddenly felt much warmer.

“Thanks,” she said.

He nodded once, dismissing the small act of gallantry and propped one foot on the low rock barrier that rimmed the terrace. He leaned forward, one arm braced on his thigh.

She edged a little closer to him. He looked so sexy and so devastatingly masculine out here in the shadows, she thought. There was the distilled essence of the relentless avenger, the protector and the warrior in the energy that enveloped him. He was the kind of man you could always depend on, she thought. His word was his bond. Honor mattered to Fallon Jones.

He moved one hand, slightly revealing the face of his black watch and one of the old-fashioned gold-and-onyx cuff links that secured the cuff of his crisp white shirt.

“Did someone give you those cuff links?” she asked.

He glanced down at his left wrist. “Family heirlooms. Once upon a time they belonged to Caleb Jones. They’ve been passed down the line to me.”

“That’s nice,” she said. “Things like that help keep you in touch with the past. They remind you of who you are and where you came from and what you need to be.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Someday you can pass them down to your own son. Or daughter. No reason a woman couldn’t wear cuff links.”

Fallon frowned, as though the prospect of having offspring was a new concept.

“Hadn’t thought about that,” he said.

“Must be nice to have a big family like yours,” she said wistfully.

“It’s a pain in the ass most of the time.”

“But you know they’re there for you if you need them to be there.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you hear what those people were saying at the buffet table?” she asked after a while.

“About severing the connection between Arcane and J&J? Zack warned me there was talk.”

“If whoever is behind the talk succeeded in getting Arcane to dump the agency, it wouldn’t stop there, would it?”

“No,” he said. “If the coup is successful, it would result in the Joneses’ losing control of Arcane. In one sense it wouldn’t matter.”

She smiled. “Because the Joneses would take their secrets and fire up another version of Arcane?”

“We wouldn’t have any choice. Someone has to do what Arcane has been doing since the Victorian era.”

“Keep a lid on the damage done by the bad guys who happen to be psychic and hunt down the folks who try to re-create the formula.”

“The problem,” Fallon said, “is that it would take time to rebuild a new Arcane, and time is the one thing we don’t have a lot of right now. Meanwhile Nightshade would almost certainly use the lull to reposition itself within the heart of Arcane.”

“So that’s what we’re dealing with. A conspiracy to oust the Joneses from Arcane and take over the Society.”

“It depends on your definition of conspiracy,” Fallon said. “Zack thinks of it as hostile a takeover.”

“Nope, I know conspiracies when I see them, and this is the real deal.”

His mouth twitched. “What did I ever do without you to help me see things clearly, Isabella Valdez?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said. “I’m laughing at myself.” He wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close. “I didn’t do that a whole lot before I met you, at least not in a very long time.”