Ceremony in Death - J. D. Robb [101]
The look Isis sent her held none of that exotic welcome.
“You’ve finished with Chas, Lieutenant?”
“For now. I’d like a few minutes.”
Isis turned to answer a question from a customer on a blend of herbs to enhance memory. “Steep it for five minutes,” Isis told her. “Then strain it. You’ll need to drink it daily for at least a week. If it doesn’t help, let me know.” She turned her head back to Eve. “As you can see, this is a bad time.”
“I’ll be quick. I’m just curious about the visit you had from Lobar here, a few days before he ended up with his throat slashed.”
She’d kept her voice down, but left her intention clear. They would talk, in private, or in public. The location was up to Isis.
“I don’t think I misjudged you,” Isis said quietly, “but you make me doubt myself.” She signaled to a young woman Eve recognized from the initiation rite. “Jane will handle the customers,” Isis said as she started toward the back room. “But I don’t want to leave her long. She’s very new at shop work.”
“Alice’s replacement.”
Isis’s eyes burned. “No one could replace Alice.”
She entered what appeared to be a combination of office and storeroom. On the reinforced plastic shelves were gargoyles, candles, sealed bins of dried herbs, clear stoppered bottles filled with liquids of varying hues.
On the small desk was a very modern and efficient computer and communication system. “Jazzy equipment,” Eve commented. “Very now.”
“We don’t eschew technology, Lieutenant. We adapt, and we use what is available to us. It’s always been so.” She gestured to a chair with a high, carved back, took another for herself, one with armrests shaped like wings. “You said you would be quick. But first I need to know if you intend to leave Chas in peace.”
“My priority is closing a case, not the peace of mind of a suspect.”
“How could you suspect him?” Her hands curled around the armrests as she leaned forward. “You, of all people, know what he’s overcome.”
“If his past is relevant—”
“Is yours?” Isis demanded. “Is the fact that you survived a nightmare to your credit or to your detriment?”
“My past is my business,” Eve said evenly, “and you know nothing about it.”
“What comes to me, comes in flashes and impressions. Stronger in some cases than others. I know you suffered and were innocent. Just as Chas is. I know you carry scars and harbor doubts. As he does. I know you struggle to make your own peace. And I see a room.”
Her voice changed, deepened, just as her eyes did. “A small, cold room washed with dirty red light. And a child, battered and bleeding, huddled in a corner. The pain is unspeakable, beyond endurance. And I see a man. He’s covered with blood. His face is—”
“Stop it.” Eve’s heart was hammering, choking off her air. For a moment, she’d been back there, back in that child who’d crawled whimpering like an animal into the corner with blood staining her hands. “Damn you.”
“I’m sorry.” Isis lifted a hand to press it to her own heart, and it trembled. “I’m so very sorry. That’s not my way. I let anger take over.” She shut her eyes tight. “I’m so very sorry.”
chapter seventeen
Eve lurched out of the chair. There was no room to pace, to prowl, to steam off the dregs of memory. “I’m aware,” she began coldly, “that you have what is commonly called heightened psychic skill. HPS is still being studied. I have a report on my desk right now. So you’ve got a talent, Isis. Congratulations. Now, stay the hell out of my head.”
“I will.” Pity swam in her eyes and couldn’t be blinked away. She’d seen much more than she’d expected or intended. “I can only apologize again. Part of me wanted to hurt you. I didn’t control it.”
“It must be hard to control it when you’re angry. When you’re threatened. When you see a weakness and can exploit it.”
Isis took a careful breath. Her system was still rocked, not only by what she’d seen, but what she’d done. “It isn’t my way. It’s against the foundation of my faith. I will cause no harm.” She lifted her hands, rubbing her fingertips under her eyes to dry them. “I’ll answer your questions. You wanted to