Jayne Castle - Obsidian Prey

by Jayne Castle

  The door of the chamber was an imposing, vaulted entrance that was a little more than half the height of the structure. At the moment, it was sealed with a roaring, pulsing cascade of intense, flaring energy. It was impossible to look directly at the hot, flashing bolts of raging purple psi for more than a second or two at a time. Lyra noticed that no one was sitting close to the entrance of the chamber. So much throbbing, churning energy had a disturbing effect on human senses.

  One of the men came forward. He was in his late forties or possibly early fifties, a tall, thin, sharp-featured individual in thick, dark-rimmed glasses. A goatee framed his narrow, unsmiling lips. Lyra decided he probably did not have much of a sense of humor.

  “Dr. Felix Webber,” Cruz said. “The head of the lab. Felix, this is Lyra Dore. She very kindly agreed to help us.”

  Webber nodded brusquely and managed to look even more irritated.

  “Miss Dore,” he said. “I’ve tried several times to get in touch with you during the past few weeks.”

  “I’ve been busy,” she said. She started toward the door filled with purple lightning. “Let’s get this done, shall we?”

  “Are you sure you can handle this, Miss Dore?” Webber demanded.

  “With one hand tied behind my back.” She stopped in front of the door, her eyes slightly averted from the veil of searing energy that filled the entrance from top to bottom. “What did you guys do to close this thing?”

  Webber’s expression tightened with outrage. “What makes you think it was something that one of the team members did?”

  “Let’s just say I’m a tad suspicious, because I know how this door works. Someone must have triggered it. You know, you people really should be careful when you fool around with alien ruins like this one. Someone could get hurt.”

  “Who are you to lecture me on how to deal with alien technology?” Webber snarled. “You’re just an opportunistic little tuner who happened to get lucky when you found this ruin. But you didn’t have the training, the talent, or the education to appreciate its real value. To you this place was just a source of expensive relics you could sell on the underground antiquities market.”

  Cruz moved forward. “That’s enough, Dr. Webber. If it hadn’t been for Miss Dore, we might never have found this chamber.”

  Webber’s jaw clenched. “I don’t trust her, Mr. Sweetwater. She has made her hostility toward the company and the lab abundantly clear.”

  “I trust her,” Cruz said simply. “She says she can get our people out. Let her do her job.”

  Webber swung around to face him. “How do we know she isn’t going to make the whole thing explode? Or maybe she’ll booby-trap it so that the next time it will close on one of us?”

  Lyra wrinkled her nose. “No offense, Dr. W, but you’ve got some serious paranoia issues. You might want to try a few sessions of Harmonic Meditation exercises. I’ll be happy to give you the name of my instructor.”

  There was some smothered laughter from the others.

  Rage flashed in Webber’s eyes, but he managed to keep his expression stone-faced.

  “I think that’s enough, Lyra,” Cruz said. “Would you mind opening the chamber?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  She slid the pack off her back and took a pair of dark glasses out of a side pocket. Slipping the glasses onto her nose, she walked directly up to the lightning-filled entrance. The shades dimmed the bright energy to the point where she could look at it directly.

  She put her hand on the amethyst wall close to the opening and heightened her senses. The stone warmed under her hand. Vincent chortled in excitement and bounced up and down, delighting in the game.

  Energy surged through Lyra, thrilling her all the way to her toes. Her hair stood straight out on end, forming a wild halo around her face. Her shirt lifted a little away from her skin as though caught by a storm wind. She suddenly wanted to fly. She was on fire with power, intoxicated with it. For a tuner, there was nothing like the rush of really hot amber.

  But she was also a professional. A lot of people had a low opinion of tuners, but she took pride in being an expert. And when it came to amethyst, nobody worked stone better.

  She forced herself to concentrate and began to search for the pattern of the wildly oscillating currents. She found it almost at once. Vincent vibrated with excitement. He was always up for a little psychic thrill. His hunting eyes opened again.

  She identified the frequencies needed to control the forces of the lightning that locked the door and sent out counteracting wavelengths, pushing her own energy through the amber charms on her bracelet. The purple lightning flashed even hotter for a moment and then quickly faded. With a few final sparks and crackles and hisses, it subsided altogether.

  Her hair tumbled back down around her face, and her clothes settled on her body. The heady sensation of power evaporated.

  For few seconds there was stunned silence behind her. Everyone crowded closer, trying to peer through the entrance of the chamber. Purple light glowed from the interior of the ruin.

  Five people appeared in the de-rezzed opening, all wearing varying expressions of amazement and relief.

  A cheer went up from the group gathered around Lyra.

  “They’re okay,” someone shouted.

  One of the ghost hunters walked out first, probably testing to be certain that there would be no surprises for the others. He looked at Lyra.

  “Appreciate it, ma’am,” he said. “The Guild owes you.”

  “No,” Cruz said. “Amber Inc. owes this favor.”

  Another man emerged from the chamber. He was in his midthirties, tall and powerfully built, with the sort of rugged features, macho attitude, and short haircut that just screamed cop or private security. He looked first at Cruz.

  “Mr. Sweetwater,” he said. “Sorry about this.”

  “It’s not your fault, Garrett,” Cruz said. “Hell, it’s an alien ruin. There’s always a surprise of some kind. Miss Dore, here, is the one who opened the chamber. Lyra, this is Garrett Flagg, head of lab security.”

  “Mr. Flagg.” Lyra inclined her head politely.

  “Miss Dore.” Flagg nodded once, serious and intent. “Sure didn’t expect you to come to the rescue tonight, not after what went down between you and the company. But I’m damn grateful. I owe you. If there’s ever anything you need from me, just pick up the phone.”

  “Thank you,” Lyra said. She looked at Cruz. “There is one thing I’d like to do before I leave tonight.”

  “Name it,” Cruz said.

  “I want to take one more look around inside the chamber,” she said.

  Flagg frowned uneasily. “Sorry, Miss Dore, but no unauthorized personnel are allowed inside. Access to the interior of the chamber is strictly controlled.”

  “By Amber Inc.,” Cruz said. “As the CEO of the security division, I’m in charge of operations down here. Miss Dore can enter the chamber. I will escort her inside, myself.”

  “Don’t worry,” Lyra said, rezzing up another dazzling smile for both men. She was feeling the aftereffects of the highly charged amethyst energy that had been rushing through her moments ago, still feeling reckless. “I’m not going to steal anything.”

  Cruz gave her a patient look. “I know that.”

  They waited until the last member of the trapped team had emerged from the chamber and thanked Lyra. Then Cruz waved her inside. He followed, watching her with an unreadable expression.

  Another buzz of energy, much lower in volume this time, whispered through her when she walked to the center of the chamber. The interior walls, floor, and ceiling glowed with a muted purple light, just as she remembered. But all of the small relics of carved amethyst amber that had been stacked around the edges of the room were gone.

  She turned slowly on her heel, surveying the scene. “What did you do with the stones?”

  “They’ve all been removed and taken to the lab,” Cruz said. “Where, as I’m sure you know, we haven’t
been able to rez a single damn one of them.”

  “Hence all the nasty phone calls I’ve been getting from Webber.”

  “I knew he had tried to contact you,” Cruz said. “I wasn’t aware that he had been rude. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  “Well, it wasn’t like I was being polite to him, either,” she allowed. “I told you, I never returned any of his calls.”

  Cruz studied her with an unreadable expression.

  “The ability to work unusual forms of amber is rare,” he said finally. “We could really use your talent at the lab. You would be well-paid.”

  “Sorry, no.”

  He shook his head, amused. “You are one stubborn woman.”

  “It’s the principle of the thing.”

  “I think it’s got more to do with the fact that you’re a Dore and I’m a Sweetwater.”

  “That, too,” she admitted.

  “You know, we don’t have to keep fighting our grandfathers’ feud.”

  “We’re not fighting it.” She went toward the door. “Your grandfather won, remember?”

  “Damn it, Lyra—”

  “I’d like to go home now, if you don’t mind. It has been a very long night.”

  “One more thing.”

  She stopped, turning. “Yes?”

  “It isn’t just old-fashioned Dore stubbornness that is making you refuse to assist my research staff with the experiments, is it?” Cruz walked toward her. “You know or suspect something very important about this ruin and the artifacts we took out of it. I need to know whatever it is you’re keeping secret, Lyra.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes,” he said, “you do. And eventually you’re going to tell me. But it can wait.”

  She managed another sparkling smile. “You’re right. It can wait. Forever.”

  Chapter 5

  THE FIRST LIGHT OF DAWN HAD BARELY BEGUN TO REPLACE the green glow of the Dead City walls by the time Cruz brought the Slider to a halt in front of the apartment building. He could feel Lyra’s exhaustion. Her head was resting against the back of the seat. Her eyes were closed. The psychic lift that came from being underground had faded. So had the exhilaration created by the bio-cocktail that had exploded through her bloodstream when she had worked the exotic amber. He knew the sensation well. Energy was energy, whether it took a normal or paranormal form. Using a lot of it gave you a rush, but later you paid a price.

  “You need sleep,” he said.

  “I know.” She opened her eyes and glanced at her watch. “If I go straight to bed, I can get in a couple of hours before my Harmonic Meditation class.”

  Vincent was perched on the seat above her shoulder. His floppy painter’s beret was still on his head. Of the three of them, he was the only one who showed no indications of having been through a long night. Cruz patted the top of the red beret.

  “Perky as ever, buddy, aren’t you?” he said.

  Vincent mumbled cheerfully.

  Cruz opened the driver’s side door and climbed out. Lyra had her own door open, Vincent tucked under one arm, and was heading for the lobby entrance by the time he got around the front of the car. Stubborn Dore.

  She dug out her key. “It’s okay,” she said, yawning a little. “You don’t have to see me upstairs.”

  “Yes,” Cruz said, “I do.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever. Believe it or not, I’m too tired to argue with you.”

  “I’ll treasure the moment.”

  They got into the elevator. When the doors slid open on the fourth floor, he followed her down the hall to her apartment. There he waited again while she let herself inside and turned on a light.

  Vincent muttered happily and tumbled down to the floor. He headed immediately toward the kitchen. Lyra turned toward Cruz. She gave him a wan smile.

  “Thanks for an interesting evening,” she said.

  She started to step back. He put the toe of his boot just over the threshold, making it impossible to shut the door. From where he stood, he could see the vase of purple orchids.

  “I want another chance, Lyra,” he said.

  She shook her head wearily. “I’ll admit I’ve had a few revenge fantasies over the past three months, but tonight was a reality check. I understand that you need someone who can rez those amethyst stones, but I won’t let you seduce me into doing it. Don’t worry; I’m sure there are other people out there who can work purple amber. Try placing an ad in the newspapers.”

  “I’m not talking about the damn rocks in the lab. I’m talking about us. You and me.”

  She folded her arms and lounged against the doorjamb. “If you’d been serious about a relationship, you wouldn’t have waited this long to ask for another chance. To be more specific, you wouldn’t have waited until you found out you needed me to reopen that chamber.”

  “You’re the one who threw me out of your life, and then you filed a lawsuit against me. What the hell was I supposed to do?” He paused, searching for the right words. “I figured you needed time.”

  “Is that so?” She raised her brows. “Tell me, if you hadn’t had a crisis down there at the ruin tonight, when, exactly, would you have come back?”

  “You probably won’t believe this, but I’ve been planning to call you.”

  “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

  “Do you really think I’m lying to you?”

  “How would I know? You fooled me last time.”

  “I was conducting a security investigation three months ago. It’s called working undercover. You were in danger because you were trying to conceal that ruin. If one of the antiquities gangs had discovered the location of the chamber first, you would have ended up as jungle compost, and you know it.”

  She exhaled deeply. “I’ve already said that I understand that, as far as you were concerned, you were just doing your job, fulfilling your responsibilities to your company and your family. But please don’t tell me that you were doing it for my own good, okay? When I hear that, I see red.”

  “It’s the truth. Look, we were both keeping secrets from each other back then. We both had our own agendas. You were skirting the law, trying to protect your find. Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you.”

  “Well, the end result is that we got off on the wrong foot, and now it’s too late.”

  He braced one hand against the wall beside the door. “It doesn’t have to be too late. You know, you’re overlooking one very critical detail here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’ve got something important going on between us, some good energy. You can’t deny it.”

  “It’s called physical attraction. I’m told it happens between men and women once in a while. Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

  “No,” he said, very sure of his ground now. “It’s more than physical attraction, at least on my side.”

  “Well, I do realize there are all those attractive amethyst artifacts sitting in your lab that you’d like rezzed.”

  “Forget the rocks. I don’t care if you never activate a single one of them. This is about you and me. What the hell do I have to do to prove that I’m interested only in you, not your talent?”

  Something in his voice seemed to catch her off guard. She frowned.

  “Good question,” she said finally. “Darned if I know. See, that’s the thing about getting off on the wrong foot in a relationship the way we did. I’m not sure there’s any way to get back on track.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  He leaned into the doorway a little. She did not step back. He took that as a good sign. She waited for the kiss, brows slightly crinkled, as though awaiting the outcome of a scientific experiment. Dubious of the results but not resisting. She was willing to allow the test, but if he failed, he was doomed.

  He wouldn’t fail. That option wasn’t even on the table. Not for a Sweetwater; not when it came to something this important.

  He kissed
her slowly, deliberately; a real first date kind of kiss.

  She responded cautiously, but she did respond. Relief followed by a flash of exultation heated his blood and his senses.

  Her mouth softened under his. She put her hands on his shoulders. For a few worrisome seconds he thought she was going to push him away. But he could sense the rising heat of her arousal. Knowing that she still responded to him physically gave him an advantage that he fully intended to exploit. He came from a long line of hunters, after all, although his talents were quite different from those of the para-resonators called ghost hunters who joined the Guilds.

  He slid one hand around the exquisitely sensitive, incredibly soft skin at the nape of Lyra’s neck and drew his thumb along the delicate line of her jaw. She trembled.

  Unlike most people on Harmony whose latent psychic talents were evolving rapidly, thanks to something in the environment, the men of the Sweetwater family traced their abilities back to their ancestors on Earth. He had been born to hunt human prey, not alien energy ghosts. But that was not all his talent allowed him to hunt. Sweetwater men recognized their true mates with the same certainty they recognized their true prey. He had known Lyra for who she was the moment he met her—the woman he had been waiting for all of his life. He was a Sweetwater. He would do whatever he had to do in order to make her his own.

  For the moment, his senses told him more clearly than words that she still wanted him, at least physically. He could work with that. The trick was to remain in full control of himself and his passions.

  Her fingers sank into the fabric of his shirt, tightening. Without warning, a shuddering thrill whipped through him. Memories of all the long nights he had spent working late or restlessly prowling the empty streets of the Old Quarter in an effort to distract himself from thoughts of Lyra slammed through him.

  She was in his arms again. That was all that mattered now.

  He had been semi-aroused all night, and now he was consumed with a sense of rising urgency. The kiss was unleashing the full force of his own need. It was all he could do not to push through the door and drag Lyra into the bedroom.