I had to say something: “I’m sorry, weird question, and if I don’t ask now I’ll forget.”

I expected the glare Grant gave me. But it was an indulgent glare—he knew me pretty well by this time. “Yes?”

“Are psychics like Tina more or less susceptible to hypnotism? You know, are their minds more receptive to being open like that, or do they actually have stronger defenses against that kind of prying?”

Grant said, “I wouldn’t call it prying. When it’s done well, it’s more like drawing back a curtain. It all depends on how cooperative the subject is. We’ll find out soon how cooperative Ms. McCannon is.”

“Just get on with it,” Tina said.

Grant raised a brow, asking my permission. I ducked out of the way.

“All right,” he said, returning his attention to Tina. “Again. Relax. Breathe in, and out.” He spoke slowly, calmly, and in moments her breathing matched the rhythm of his speech. He didn’t use any of the movie “you’re getting very sleepy” clichés. He just spoke softly, rhythmically, creating a mood, like the peace of a gently rocking boat. I was getting a little woozy listening to it.

The room was dead quiet.

“You’re in a dark room, safe and warm. Protected. You feel calm and powerful. Nothing can touch you here. Warm, protected, very safe. In a moment, a light will come on, slowly. A soft, warm light is growing brighter. You start to see what else is in the room. Tina, do you remember the séance you performed a short while ago?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

“Go back to the start of the séance. Remember what you felt. What you saw. Replay those events, those feelings. Remember what contacted you. What happened first?”

Her lips moved; the words came slowly. “It’s moving. I can’t feel my hands. I know when it starts because I can’t feel my hands.” Her brow furrowed. Grant murmured words of comfort.

“Jeffrey is helping,” she said. “They trust Jeffrey.”

“Who trusts Jeffrey?”

“Them.” She wet her lips. “Natalie. Conrad’s sister. She’s with him, looking after him. She’s worried—”

“Now, wait just a minute—” Conrad said, lurching forward. Anastasia caught his arm, held him back. He looked hard at her, as if surprised by the strength of her grip. He met her gaze. And I bet that gave him a shock.

Conrad stayed back and stayed quiet.

“That was the first contact you made during the séance,” Grant said, his tone never wavering. “Move forward now. You tried again.”

“Asked a question. Who hooks up.” She smiled a little.

“You felt something.”

Tina’s smile vanished. “No.”

“You’re safe here. The room is protected. The scene playing now is only an image, a memory. You can see the memory very clearly. It can’t hurt you.”

She shook her head, just a little. “It’s here, closing around the house.”

“What is?”

“It’s ugly. No.”

Jeffrey reached for her hand, but Grant shook his head sharply, warning him away.

“Whatever you saw, it can’t hurt you here,” Grant said. “You have control over this memory. What do you see? What is it, closing around the house?”

“Hate,” she said.

Grant pursed his lips. “Where does the hate come from?”

“It’s a plan—it’s all part of the plan. I can’t see the plan, I can only see what it means, and it’s full of hate. Nobody makes it, nobody—” She grimaced, her head started shaking, and a whine began in her throat, at the edge of a scream. Her whole body tensed. The hair on my neck bristled.

Grant leaned in. “The light is fading, Tina. It’s growing dim, fading to a warm, comforting darkness. You’re resting, relaxed in every part of your body. Your mind is relaxed, your breathing is relaxed. When I count to three, you’ll awake rested, aware, in full control of your memory and yourself. One… two… three…”

She opened her eyes. Looked at Grant, then at Jeffrey. She let out a long sigh.

“So what’s out there?” Jerome said, moving closer, from the outskirts of the gathering. “What’s closing in?”

She rubbed her face; her frown was despairing. “I couldn’t see it. It was almost…” She shook the thought away. Jeffrey took her other hand and squeezed tightly.

Urgent, Jerome continued. “Is it a person? An animal? A thing? Another one like us? What?”

“I said I don’t know!” She sat up, glaring. Her hands were shaking.

“Whole lot of good that does us,” the wrestler said, turning away.

Lee said, “I’m not trying to criticize, or question you, but could this maybe be paranoia? We’re in the middle of nowhere, in a weird situation—”

“I’m a paranormal investigator,” she said. “I’ve been in situations way more whacked-out than this.”

“I believe her,” Anastasia said. “I believe there’s more going on here than we think. I would certainly like to know what.”

I bet you would, I managed not to mutter. She and Grant were back to studying each other, without looking like they were studying each other. The cynic in me was starting to think they were both plants, in cahoots with Provost to jack up the tension until somebody snapped. All to make the show more exciting. Except I knew Grant wouldn’t do that kind of thing. I thought Grant wouldn’t do that kind of thing. The last thing I needed here was to decide I couldn’t trust anyone.

“Clearly, you have an unusual talent,” Anastasia said to Tina.

Tina looked away. “I wish I didn’t, most of the time.”

“That’s another way to tell the fakes from the real thing,” Grant said, turning to Conrad. “The real psychics tend to treat it as a burden. They tend not to show off.”

Tina gave him a thin-lipped smile.

The skeptic crossed his arms, set his expression into a frown. “I’ll give you this much, you all are putting on a great show.”

“Will you lay off with that?” Tina said.

For my part, I’d about had it with him, and it had only been two days. “That’s it,” I said, marching to the front door. “I’m doing it right there on the front porch for everyone to see so he’ll just shut the hell up.”