"It really takes a lot -especially in our line of work- for me to feel alive, but you do that for me, Vivienne."
When psychically gifted Vivienne Salvatore is forced to flee to London from her home up north, she stumbles upon a "prestigious" agency...
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ~ the wimbledon wraiths ~ anthony lockwood
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"You shouldn't have said that," I say, looking over at George once the door shuts behind Vivienne. "About what listening can do."
"Well, someone has to," George replies. "She got way too close to Annabel, and...listeners can burn out, so we need to look after her. She's good, and...she's finally starting to get me."
He smiles.
"She's a lot tougher than you think," I say.
"That whole 'looking out for her' thing applies to you too, Lockwood," Lucy says. "I see that look you give her on cases when you want her to use her touch, but it's too strong. She gets lost in it and...she becomes a liability. Why do you think she wears gloves out on every case? She knows that, but she does it for you anyway."
My eyes lower to the table, and I nod.
Vivienne's sense of touch is the strongest I've ever seen in an agent, that's true, not to mention her listening, but I hadn't noticed how caught up in it she got.
Not until Annabel.
When she mentioned it in her interview, I figured it was a nerves thing. Then she volunteered herself as a human vessel and almost got her spine broken in an attempt to communicate. Vivienne got too close, and it almost cost her life.
From now on, she'll have to stick to listening.
"Could you pass me another donut, Luce—," George starts, before being interrupted by a clattering sound from down in the basement.
We all turn to each other, wide-eyed.
"Everything okay down there?" Lucy calls out.
"Viv?" I call out.
There's no response. The three of us jump out of our seats and rush downstairs to the basement below.
There, lying on the stone-cold floor of the basement, is Vivienne, eyes closed and limbs out by her sides. I kneel at her side and check for a pulse. It's there, but far weaker and faster than it should be.
"Reckon it's my turn to slap her awake?" George jokes.
"George—!" Lucy whacks him on the arm.
"She has a pulse, she just..," I say. "I think she's just asleep? Unconscious, I mean."
"Well, what happened?" Lucy asks. "We were talking to her barely a minute ago and she seemed completely fine!"
"I don't know," George says. "But...we can't just leave her here. It's freezing and she's lying on concrete, so..."
