Free Rendezvous at Midnight by Lynne Connolly Page B

away from Michael Scott. Not only is he seriously weird, he’s not even the same species as we are.”
    At the first jolt of alarm, Lisa had felt Michael’s presence in her mind, anxiously checking on her. She still couldn’t speak and gasped for breath. Brant bent his head, obviously meaning to kiss her, and that helped her find her voice. “What are you talking about, the same species?”
    He drew back and although desire still smoldered in his eyes, a certain hardness entered. “He’s not our kind, Lisa, you and me.”
    “He’s a medium, he’s psychic. We could all be psychic. Why does that make him a certain species?”
    She felt nothing else but Michael in her mind, and he was listening intently. Hold on, Lisa, I’m making my way to you. Keep him talking. I need to hear what he has to say .
    Decision time. Should she trust Michael, a new love but an old friend, or Brant, someone she knew inside and out? She didn’t hesitate. Michael showed integrity, tenderness, and honesty, all things she considered essential. Brant lacked all three. At one time she’d thought his determination to climb the greasy pole of success amusing, admirable even, but some of the methods he used were questionable, to say the least.
    “Listen, Lisa. I belong to a powerful, influential organization of people who call ourselves Anti-Sensitives. They’ve bought into the TV network because they saw something in Scott in some of the programs. They know there’s something wrong with him. So do I. I’ve seen him close up, and his ability isn’t just unusual, it’s weird. Off. Wrong. I’ve agreed to give him to them, and they’ll arrive soon to pick him up.”
    That would leave Brant clear to run the program and ingratiate himself with the network’s new owners.
    She schooled her face to calmness. “Did you arrange the electric shock?”
    He grinned. “Oh yes. I thought I’d save them some time. He should have died, you know. That was what finally convinced me the anti-sensitives are right. Listen, Lisa, I don’t want you going anywhere near him. The electrical test was the last one. I’ve run him through a few this year without him knowing. Leave it. The anti-sensitives will take care of it from here on in.”
    “And you’ll take care of the network?”
    He blinked. “Yeah, maybe. Do you want to be the woman of the man in charge? They’re gonna promote me to production head. Then from there it should be easy.”
    “Michael’s part owner.”
    He backed off slightly, and his look held more respect. “Is that why you went to him? Good thinking, honey. But there’s no need now. You can have me and the network.”
    Endless arrogance looked back at her, and despite his body-builder physique and killer looks, she could honestly say there was nothing she wanted there.
    A flicker at the edge of her field of vision drew her attention and a now familiar warmth filled her mind.
    “Let her go, McManus.”
    Slowly, Brant turned his head to confront Michael Scott. “How did you get in here? I know you’re one of these deviants, so it doesn’t surprise me. I’m just curious.”
    “Yeah, you’re curious all right.” Michael took a step forward. Behind him, in the doorway to the bathroom, she saw the man from last night, Basil Rostov. This time he was dressed as a cop. How many uniforms did this man own?
    Michael stared at Brant, seemingly calm but because of their mind link, Lisa felt his anger bubbling up to swamp his tranquil veneer. He glanced at Lisa.
    “Has he hurt you?”
    The surge of anger, like a bubble of molten rock on the surface of a volcano scared her more than anything Brant might have done. “No. Just yelled some stupid stuff about you and the anti-sensitives and that kind of thing. He thinks you should be eliminated. But I think it’s greed, not any belief, motivating him.”
    “Is that right? You want to kill me?” Michael folded his arms in front of his impressive chest. “You can try.”
    Brant spun