Chapter 1
Dallas, Texas
Late May
DeVore hated these mandatory gatherings. His current career and attendant fame might require his presence on occasion, but he did not have to enjoy them, just make the requisite appearance. An almost untouched glass of champagne in his left hand, he drifted across the crowded ballroom, nodded and spoke when required, although, as always, the greater part of him stayed aloof.
His face felt stiff behind the uncommon, artificial smile. He shielded his senses to dim the noise, dull the scents of too much cologne and aftershave, distance the heat and pressure of too many people in a finite space. Even with such protection, he felt the sensory barrage in every atom of his being. It was hell to have empathetic tendencies so emotions and vague thoughts from oth
