High Energy by Joy, Dara (ink book reader .TXT) 📗

middle-aged woman, who

handed her a listing of the extension classes and special seminars being

offered.

Quickly scanning the list, she checked off her choice and handed it back to the

woman behind the desk, who was in the process of hanging up the phone.

"This is your lucky day."

Zanita looked up from a circular a student had just handed her. "What do you

mean?"

"The class you marked has been filled up since the moment it was announced. I

just hung up the phone on a last-minute cancellation."

"You're kidding!" She had no idea psychic healing classes were so popular. And

if the classes were popular, her articles would really hit the—

The woman interrupted Zanita's thoughts. "Oh-oh."

"What 'oh-oh'?"

"I'm sorry, I should've guessed—there's a huge waiting list for this class."

She saw her article flying out the window. "Oh, but you can't!" The woman looked

at her strangely. "I mean, I have to take this class. It's really important to

me. Please?"

The woman seemed uncomfortable to be put in this position. Zanita decided to

press her momentary advantage.

"You might not even be able to get in touch with any of those people on that

list at this late time. The class is going to start in an hour. Here I am, ready

and willing to attend. How will it look with an empty seat? Besides, you

yourself said it was fate."

The woman threw up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! You're in. Just don't

tell anyone what I did." She stamped the form.

"My lips are sealed. Thanks a lot—I really appreciate this."

"You should—I've dealt with some of these people on the waiting list, and they

can get weird when they don't get what they want."

Zanita's violet eyes opened wide. Perhaps she could get a tip-off here? She

leaned toward the woman, whispering, "Weird how?"

"Oh, the usual. They throw an academic tantrum of some kind, and somebody gets

rearranged. No one would dare mess with that department."

"Why not?" Zanita took out her pen and pad.

The woman said seriously, "Because they know how to make your house glow in the

dark." Then she winked. "Lecture hall 223. Have a nice day."

Zanita was still gaping at the woman in horror as she turned away to help

another student.

Do these psychics intimidate people with their so-called abilities! Was that how

Xavier LaLeche was able to convince poor Mrs. Haverhill to hand over her bank

books? She made a mental note to investigate this angle.

She had just enough time to get a hamburger at the cafeteria. By the time she

got to the lecture hall, it was fairly filled. Spotting an empty chair in the

third row, she made her way down the stairs, quickly taking the seat. It was

strange, but she seemed to be the only woman there.

Her eyes flicked over the chairs in the hall. All men!

And a scruffy lot they were, too.

She briefly felt like tugging on the hem of her short skirt, only none of them

seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to her legs.

Why not!

She purposely crossed them. Still no response. Very curious.

There was a buzz of excitement racing through the hall which had nothing to do

with the shape of her legs. An odd little man sitting next to her confided to

her how happy he was to be attending this seminar. His owlish eyes peered at her

from behind Coke-bottle glasses as he extended a pudgy hand to her in greeting.

"Stan Mazurski."

She shook his hand. "Zanita Masterson."

"I can't wait to hear him, you know." The little man shook with enthusiasm.

"He's quite a maverick—radical in a lot of his viewpoints, but so very

brilliant. One of the greatest minds of our times."

So the lecturer had all the earmarks of a cult leader. She was supposed to be

impressed with this? "I wouldn't know."

"You've never seen him before? I have—once when I was at Cern, I flew to The

Hague to hear him give a talk."

Typical groupie. Poor man. She'd seen his type before. "I hope it was worth it."

Her response was dry.

"Oh, yes! He was inspiring, I'll tell you. Turned my thinking around

completely."

Damn! Here she thought she was attending a legitimate lecture—not about to hear

some cult leader pontificate to his adoring masses. Well, she'd give the guy a

chance; there was no sense judging him by one crazed fan. But if his talk even

smacked of hoodoo chicanery, she was out of there.

"I hear they offered him a permanent chair at the Institute for Advanced

Studies."

This was encouraging, although she had never heard of a psychic research center

bearing that name. There was only one university she knew of that had done

psychic research, and she had heard they closed the department down. Perhaps she

had heard wrong. "Duke University?"

The round eyes blinked twice behind the thick lenses. "N-no, Princeton."

Well! More encouraging still. She would reserve judgment.

"He turned it down."

Zanita was about to ask him why, when the double doors to the front of the

lecture pit opened, and five men entered the room. Four of the men surrounded

one man in the center, eagerly seeking his opinion on various subjects. Even

though he was surrounded, Zanita had no trouble seeing him, for he stood head

and shoulders above the other men.

He was sinfully handsome.

The second thing she noticed about him was his build. The man worked out—no

question about it. It was the best body she had seen in years—maybe ever. He was

wearing washed-out denims that hugged sleek thighs. His white tailored shirt was

unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled back to the elbow, revealing

muscular forearms.

He had very long chestnut hair, which was streaked golden. It was smoothed back

from his face and hung down his back in a ponytail. His skin was a rich golden

tan; it complemented his tawny hair color, evoking images of sultry tropical

heat…

Someone said something to him which made him smile, causing him to reveal

engaging, almost mischievous dimples. Then another person garnered his

attention, probably not very interesting, because as this person continued to

talk to him, he raised his sights and glanced around the lecture hall.

For a moment, his sharp gaze lit on Zanita before moving on.

She noticed that his eyes were clear, ice blue in contrast to his warm coloring,

and seemed to spark with a keen intelligence.