“Take off the coat, get comfortable,” Dante invited, gesturing to an unoccupied chair. This was Dante's office, and although I'd joined him more than two weeks ago, the names stenciled on the door still read Dante Badheart and Connie Challenge. Connie had been his former partner, also a clairvoyant. However, she wasn't that skilled, nor was she a Touch Clairvoyant. According to Dante, she'd been transferred to Dallas, Texas, months before they'd found me. Dante hadn't liked her much—they didn't get along. They hadn't gotten around to changing the name on the door. Dante said to give it six months, and then it might happen.
Zachariah set his briefcase down, slipped out of his coat, and draped it over the back of the chair. I was getting good vibes from Mr. Black, and it wasn't merely that
