Obsidian Prey (16 page)

“Okay, that’s weird.”

“There’s no way I can direct the effect toward a specific target. The energy is generated by my aura, and it sweeps out in a field all around me for a radius of about fifteen feet.”

“You’re saying it wasn’t one of my waking nightmares?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by a waking nightmare, but I can guarantee you that you weren’t hallucinating tonight.”

Relief crashed through her, leaving her a little jittery. She sank slowly back down onto the bed, hugging Vincent close.

“That’s it?” she asked, incredulous. “That’s your family’s secret talent?”

“Well, it’s my version of it. Like I said, the men in my family are all hunters of one kind or another, but no two talents are ever identical.”

“But you still need amber to focus your psi, right?”

“No. Our talent has been in the family for generations. There were Sweetwater hunters on the Old World long before the Curtain opened. But here on Harmony, it turns out that certain forms of nonstandard amber can be used to enhance our natural abilities.”

“You say you’re hunters but not ghost hunters?” she asked.

“In the old days they called us para-hunters. We don’t use the term anymore. We think of ourselves as amber talents. Sounds a little more modern, you know?”

She looked at him. “A little less scary, you mean? A tad more politically correct?”

“Yeah, that, too.” He sat down beside her.

“Who called you para-hunters back on Earth?”

He shrugged. “It’s the label that was used to describe people like me in the historical records of the Arcane Society.”

“What in the world is the Arcane Society?”

“An organization that was founded by an alchemist several centuries ago, Old Earth time. Its members were all psychically talented people. The group was devoted to the study of the paranormal. The Society maintained a very low profile back on the home world.”

“Why?”

“The paranormal was never really accepted as normal back on Earth.”

She gripped the lapels of her robe with one hand. “In some ways, it still isn’t. People get nervous around those who have strong or unusual kinds of talents.”

He threaded his fingers through hers. “And that’s why the Society still exists in the shadows.”

“You’re saying this Arcane Society exists here on Harmony?”

“A lot of registered members came through the Curtain, just like everyone else. When it became obvious that something in the environment here on Harmony was encouraging the development of latent psychic talents of all kinds, those in the Society thought things would be better here. But it turns out that being different is still not a good thing.”

“The definition of what is normal may shift but not the pressure to fit the definition.”

His smile held no trace of humor. “That’s even truer when your brand of talent just happens to be really useful for pursuing and taking down a certain kind of prey.”

“What kind would that be?” she asked warily.

“Human.”

She swallowed hard. “I see. Had a feeling you were going to say that. I saw the way you handled those two men tonight.”

“For generations on Earth, my family made a good living working for the Arcane Society and occasionally certain clandestine government agencies.”

“Tracking criminals?”

“Not just any kind of criminals. On Earth, the Sweetwaters hunted down psychic sociopaths, the kind of bad guys regular law enforcement couldn’t handle.”

She cleared her throat. “So you were the good guys?”

“We like to think so. But not everyone saw it that way. The thing is, we did it for the money. A lot of money.”

“I see.”

“When someone called in a Sweetwater, it meant that all other alternatives had been exhausted. You didn’t resort to hiring one of us unless you were convinced that the only option left was to terminate.”

Her mouth went dry. “Your ancestors were
assassins for hire
?”

“I know. Talk about politically incorrect. We tried to be selective when it came to employers, but, yes, the Sweetwaters did the dirty work for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t get their own hands dirty.” He paused. “We were good at it, too.”

She cleared her throat. “Please tell me that your family is no longer in that profession.”

There was a short pause.

“Mostly we’re in amber today,” he said finally.

“Excuse me, but your job title is CEO of Amber Inc.
Security
. You, personally, are not exactly in amber, Cruz.”

“AI Security is a legitimate private security firm,” he said flatly. “A division of Amber Inc. We are no longer Murder Inc. My grandfather saw to that fifty years ago. He changed everything for us. That’s what it was all about, you see.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Radiance Springs mine claim that he won in that poker game he played with Arthur Dore. Big Jake’s new mining company was in a life-and-death struggle for survival against Erasmus Revere’s RezStone. Big Jake needed the Radiance Springs mine in order to keep from going under.”

“So he stole it from my grandfather.”

“He won it in a card game.”

“Yeah, right.” She took a breath. “So you’re telling me that up until that point your family was still in the old business?”

He exhaled deeply and with a lot of control. “I think we’ve talked about this enough tonight.”

“Conversation closed?”

“For now.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that you don’t tell every woman you date about your family history.”

“No.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “You’re the first one I’ve ever told.”

“Boy, howdy, why does that make me nervous?”

“Relax. You’re going to be family soon.”

HE COULD FEEL THE PANIC FLARE IN HER AURA. “RELAX, you’re going to be family soon” had probably not been the smartest thing he could have said under the circumstances.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m moving too fast here, aren’t I?”

“It’s not the speed that worries me, it’s the direction in which you’re traveling,” Lyra said tightly. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I just thought that, after what happened between us last night, it would be okay to talk about our future.”

“We had
sex
last night.” She freed her hand and leaped to her feet, sending Vincent tumbling down to the floor. “It was great sex. Best I’ve ever had. But it was just sex.”

She sounded almost frantic. He rose slowly, watching her.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” he said quietly. “In spite of how it was between us last night.”

“Or maybe because of it,” she shot back. “Everyone knows it’s easy to confuse passion with . . . with, uh, the other thing.”

“It’s called love,” he said. “In my family we don’t have a problem with the word.”

“Well, in mine, we do. Dores have never been lucky in love.”

“Maybe because you marry the wrong people.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” she said grimly. “Look. Not that long ago I fooled myself into thinking that maybe I could break the jinx with you. I am not going to make that mistake again. You’ve still got an agenda where I’m concerned. We both know that.”

“You call trying to protect you from whoever is attempting to frame you for killing a man and stealing a valuable antiquity ‘an agenda’?”

She drew herself up to her full height, which, given that she was barefoot, meant she still had to look up to meet his eyes. “Some might view it that way. I’m thrilled that you don’t believe I’m the killer, but the bottom line here is that you are still looking for one, right?”

“Yes.”

“It strikes me that one way for you to draw the bad guy out into the open is to hang around me. If he thinks that you are looking at me as a suspect, he’s more likely to make a mistake.”

“You are a very cynical woman, Lyra Dore. Smart as hell and sexy as hell, but also cynical.”

“I prefer the term
realistic
,” she said, raising her chin. “And you have to admit, I’m right.”

“You’re right. But I swear on my honor as a Sweetwater that my goal is to protect you, not use you as bait. Hell, if I’d wanted to stake you out like a tethered goat, I would have come looking for you two weeks ago after the lab tech died. That’s when I first began to suspect that someone was trying to set you up to take the fall. Believe it or not, at that point I was doing my level best to divert attention from you.”

“I believe you when you say that you didn’t intend for me to get caught in the middle of this thing. But you are trying to catch a killer, and I happen to be conveniently in the middle. It’s possible I could be useful. We both know that.”

He looked out the window at the rising light of dawn, trying to keep his temper in check, trying to think of a way out of the trap. When nothing came to mind, he headed for the bathroom.

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere good, so I’m going to take a shower instead,” he said.

She leaped into the bathroom doorway, showing an impressive turn of speed, and blocked his path, hands braced against the doorframe on either side.

“One more thing, Sweetwater.”

He stopped in front of her. “What now?”

“You said you induced that psi fog that overwhelmed my senses last night.”

“I told you, I can’t aim my talent like a gun. I apologize again, but if you will recall, there were a couple of guys with mag-rezzes in the vicinity.”

“I know. I’ve got no problem with you saving us from that pair.”

“Gosh, thanks. Nothing gets a man hot like having his woman believe that he’s a knight in shining armor.”

“What I want to know,” she said, watching him very closely, “is if you’re responsible for the other hallucinations I’ve been experiencing for the last six weeks.”

Anger and a terrible sense of helplessness roared through him. It took everything he had to clamp a lid on the churning emotions. He leaned in very close, gripping the doorframe on either side of her. His knuckles were white

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “Do your really believe that I’ve been stalking you for the past six weeks, inflicting nightmares on you?”

Something in his very soft, very neutral voice must have gotten through to her. She seemed to crumple in on herself.

“No,” she said, her tone abruptly dull. “No, of course not.”

“So why are you acting as if you would have been happier if the answer had been yes?”

“Because then I would at least have had a reasonable explanation for the waking nightmares.” She moved out of the doorway, slipping under his extended arm. “Go take your shower, Cruz.”

The last of his frustration and anger evaporated. She was scared to death and fighting the fear with typical Dore guts and determination. He caught her around the waist.

“Hold it right there,” he said. “These waking nightmares you’re talking about. What do you think is going on?”

She looked at him. “Well, one explanation is that they are a result of the stress I’ve been under lately.”

“Have you ever suffered hallucinations when you’ve been under stress in the past?”

“No.”

“Damn. You’re really worried that you might be going crazy, aren’t you?”

“Well, I guess it is a possibility that should be considered.”

Her flippant tone belied her haunted eyes.

“Forget it,” he said, putting all of his conviction into the words. “You’re not going crazy.”

“And just how would you know that, Dr. Sweetwater?”

“Believe me, after last night, I would know.”

“Sex as a diagnostic tool in the field of parapsychology. Hey, I’ll bet you could get a bestseller out of that.”

“I don’t need a degree in parapsychology to know you’re as sane as I am,” he said calmly. “There’s been a bond between us from the moment we met. Last night strengthened it in ways you haven’t even begun to comprehend. If there was a streak of madness in you, I would have sensed it.”

Her eyes lit with cautious hope. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. Now, I’m going to take that shower. When I’m finished, you can take yours while I make breakfast.”

He kissed her lightly and walked past her into the bathroom.