Summoning the Night (Arcadia Bell #2)(44)

“What kind of experiments?” Lon asked.

Spendlove shrugged. “Ask him to use his knack to influence your favorite color, perhaps. See how long you continue to believe it. Things like that.”

Lon grunted again, this time more thoughtfully. Changing someone’s favorite color sounded far less stressful than forcing a carnival ride operator to put people in danger.

Spendlove continued. “Persuasion is grouped under the ‘Sense’ family of knacks, you might be surprised to learn. Which makes it related to abilities like your empathy. I believe it to be the next step up, so to speak. For example, if you can sense people’s emotions, the natural progression is the ability to manipulate emotions. Just as being able to sense honesty is a step below those who can foster honesty, like me.”

“Yes,” Lon said quickly, dropping his eyes.

We both knew Spendlove’s theory was on the mark because of Lon’s ability to transmutate. Speaking of which, neither that nor the bloody Hellfire Club had come up yet, so I was assuming Spendlove didn’t know about either.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m more inclined to think Jupe’s knack is something inherited from your side.” Spendlove settled back into his chair. “Still, it’s hard to be certain.”

“I’m worried about it going to his head, getting out of control,” Lon said.

“Sure, that’s a legitimate concern. It certainly has more potential for greater consequences than psychokinetics, say. But it’s like anything else that can be abused—money, good looks, status—all you can do is teach your kids right and wrong, provide positive reinforcement, and lead by example. The rest is up to them.”

This seemed to calm Lon’s nerves. He unlaced his fingers from mine, rearranging our hands to clasp palm to palm, and gently stroked my knuckles.

“Jupe’s ability might undergo some changes as it manifests,” Dr. Spendlove said. “Growing pains. It’s not uncommon for a young knack to be easy one day, harder the next, and for the results to vary wildly. He might experience headaches or other side effects after using it.”

I could relate to that. I knew all too well about side effects and varied results from using magick.

“By the way, he has a bit of a ‘tell’ when he’s using his knack,” Dr. Spendlove said.

“Squeezing whatever he’s holding in his hands with a viselike grip?” I guessed, thinking of how he acted at the carnival.

The doctor laughed. “That will pass when he’s able to better master it. I’m talking about the rapid eye movement—REM, like when you’re dreaming. If you watch his eyes, they flick like this.” He moved his finger back and forth like a pendulum to demonstrate.

Lon and I looked at each other and nodded. Good to know. Very good. Worth the whole damn doctor visit, if you asked me.

“The best advice I can give you is to be patient, and to pay attention to him,” he concluded. “Have him practice the right and wrong way to use it around you, and monitor his behavior carefully. Severe shifts can be warning signs. If he becomes withdrawn and depressed for no reason, or if he becomes inappropriately wild and begins taking too many risks, you might want to bring him in to talk to me.”

I wondered if the incident on the amusement park ride would be considered “inappropriately wild,” but said nothing while the appointment concluded. On our way downstairs to retrieve Jupe from the waiting room, Lon stopped short in front me.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just had an epiphany.”

“About Jupe?”

“About the Snatcher investigation.”

I paused. “About the image in the Polaroid?”

“No. Something better.”

I watched him stare at the wallpaper for a long moment, then leaned in and whispered against his ear. “Tell me.”

Something mischievous danced behind his eyes as they met mine. “If it’s not Bishop, then who would be able provide the Snatcher’s real identity?”

Where was he going with this? I became frustrated, then realized what he meant. “Cindy Brolin. But she won’t talk.”

“She won’t talk to us. But what if someone . . . more persuasive . . . asked her nicely?”

WE ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The text lit up my phone screen with thirteen exclamation points. Coming into the city on a Friday night might be mildly interesting to some kids. To Jupe it was like he’d been given shore leave. I untied my bar apron and told the new bartender that my half-shift was over. Amanda waved good-bye as I headed outside.

Just after ten and already freezing. I zipped up my coat as I climbed the belowground stairs to street level. Lon’s SUV idled at the curb out front. Before I cleared the last step, Jupe jumped from the passenger seat and bounded across the sidewalk to greet me. “So this is what it’s like at night, huh? Wow! The neon looks so cool lit up like that. How many people are inside? You look tired—is it busy in there? Who’s working tonight? Is Kar Yee in there? ”

“Hello to you, too. You think you could maybe ask me about thirty more questions before you let me answer any of them?” I said, poking him in the stomach.

He laughed. “Oops.” Then he did the strangest thing. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. Just a casual peck. Something most people would expect from a brother or a friend. Only, I don’t have a brother, and I certainly didn’t have any friends who did that. Amanda often tried to hug me, but she once said I was unhuggable. That hurt my feelings, but not enough to start getting all free-love and touchy-feely.