Silver Master

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  She gasped for air. He was half-strangling her, but she did have physical contact. Struggling to breathe, she opened her senses to the sick tide of psi energy that pounded at her and began to probe delicately.

  Certain that he had her under control, Landry concentrated on Miss Allonby.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  “You are not my employer, sir,” Miss Allonby informed him. She turned her back to him and started to walk into the office.

  Crushed against him, wide open to his psi patterns, Celinda was intensely aware of the slight jump in tension as Landry prepared to pull the trigger. He was taking his time, hesitating just a bit. Probably worried that someone outside in the street would hear the shot, she thought. Whatever the case, it gave her a precious few instants of time. She had one advantage. She knew Landry’s energy patterns all too well. She still encountered them in her nightmares.

  The roaring pulses of cold, crazy rage were shatteringly clear on the paranormal plane. The problem was that the pattern was so frighteningly abnormal. Desperately she tried to establish a counterpoint rhythm capable of dampening the most violent psi waves.

  She knew she was having a measure of success when she opened her eyes and saw that Miss Allonby had disappeared into the office. Landry had not pulled the trigger.

  “What’s happening?” His hand tightened around her throat. “What are you doing to me? I can’t rez the trigger.”

  She did not even try to answer. All her concentration was on disrupting his energy rhythms.

  He started to shake. Still pinned against him, she could feel the tremors going through his body, just like that night when he had tried to rape her. On the psychic plane, all was chaos. She heard the gun clatter on the floor.

  Landry shouted something. He sounded terrified. Abruptly he released her, spinning away from her. His breath came in great, gulping gasps.

  “Don’t touch me,” he screamed. “Get away from me. You’re doing something to me. I can feel it.”

  Crouching, she scooped up the mag-rez gun, gripping it in both hands.

  Landry stared at her, shocked and enraged. Now that they were no longer in physical contact, he was already recovering.

  He looked at the gun in her hand and uttered a derisive laugh. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?”

  “Shoot you,” she said.

  “Not a chance. You don’t have the nerve. Besides, there’s no way a stupid little bitch like you would know how to use a mag-rez.”

  She lowered the barrel of the gun, aiming at a point just in front of his boots, and rezzed the trigger.

  The shot roared like thunder in the small room. Landry jumped back and then stared, stunned, at the hole in the floor where the bullet had plowed into the two-hundred-year-old wood.

  Celinda raised the barrel of the gun so that it once again pointed at his midsection. “As you can see, I’ve been practicing. I’ve waited for this moment for a long time, Landry.”

  He must have read her intention in her eyes, because his face went oddly slack with fear.

  “No, wait,” he whispered. “You can’t do this—”

  There was a sound from the office doorway behind her.

  “I think we can let the Guild deal with him now,” Davis said quietly.

  “I haven’t noticed that it has been able to do that very well,” she said. She did not take her eyes or the gun off Landry.

  “It will this time,” Davis said, moving up to stand beside her. He held out his hand. “You have my word on it.”

  She flicked a glance at him, uncertain.

  “You don’t want to do this,” he said. “Trust me; once you’ve done it, you can’t ever forget it. Landry’s not worth the psychic burn.”

  “But I have to be sure. I can’t let that bastard threaten my family ever again.”

  “He won’t,” Davis said. “I know you don’t buy the old saying, but the Guild really does police its own.”

  Chapter 40

  TRIG LOOKED UP AT THEM FROM THE HOSPITAL BED. THE tension that had been chewing at Davis’s insides ever since he had found him in the alley, badly dazed and bleeding profusely, eased. There was a large white bandage around Trig’s head and traces of pain at the corners of his eyes, but the doctor had assured everyone that the blow had done no permanent damage.

  “They said you got off lightly because the cap you were wearing gave you some protection,” Davis said.

  Trig grimaced. “I heard the bastard coming up behind me at the last second and tried to move. Too little, too late. Sorry, boss. Guess I was worrying too much about the doctor and not enough about Landry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Celinda said. She looked at Davis across the bed, eyes narrowing. “We had been assured that the Guild would take care of Landry.”

  Luckily, Alice Martinez responded before Davis had to come up with a response.

  “The Cadence Guild has made some progress when it comes to cooperating with us,” she said coolly. “But it has a long way to go. Someone should have picked up the phone and called me at a much earlier stage.”

  “Yeah?” Trig squinted up at her. “And what could you have done about a major honcho from the Frequency Guild? Especially given that there was no hard evidence against him.”

  “I could have let him know that he was under suspicion,” Alice shot back, undaunted. “If Landry had been aware that both the cops and the local Guild were keeping an eye on him, it’s a good bet he would have hit the road back to Frequency City.”

  “Bad bet, Martinez.” Trig gingerly touched the bandage around his head. “The guy was a nutcase. Nothing would have stopped him.”

  Alice cleared her throat and then said very politely, “The guy was a nutcase? Past tense? Are you telling me that we’re wasting our time looking for him?”

  Trig blinked a couple of times. “Uh—”

  He turned helplessly to Davis.

  Davis realized that Celinda and Alice were looking at him, too.

  “Evidently there was a problem shortly after the Guild picked up Landry at Hollings’s office,” he said. “According to my sources, Landry went crazy, broke free of his guards, and tried to escape into the rain forest. There’s an open gate in the tunnels that run beneath Dr. Hollings’s office.”

  “I see,” Alice said, clearly annoyed. “I assume the Guild guards gave chase?”

  “Sure.” Davis shrugged. “But Landry was in a panic. He blundered into a bad ghost storm. There wasn’t anything anyone could do until the storm had passed. By then it was too late. His body is scheduled to be sent back to the headquarters of the Frequency City Guild later today.”

  “I don’t suppose it occurred to anyone at the Guild that the Cadence PD might want a medical examiner to take a look at the body before it is returned to Frequency?” Alice asked, going even colder.

  “Maybe you should talk to Mercer Wyatt,” Trig suggested helpfully. “He’s real big on cooperating with the police.”

  “Yeah, we’ve noticed that,” Alice said, glaring at him.

  “Hey, don’t look at me, Detective,” Trig said quickly. “I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  “Sure.” Alice switched her attention to Davis. “You know, I keep hearing that as far as the Cadence Guild is concerned, the good old days of taking care of things with the triple-S method are over. But somehow there seem to be a lot of exceptions. Next time you talk to Wyatt, tell him that he owes me a favor for letting this one go. Understood?”

  “I’ll relay the message, Detective,” he said.

  Alice nodded once, flipped her notebook shut, and strode out of the room.

  Trig waited until she was gone before he whistled softly. “You think she wears that gun to bed?”

  Celinda glowered at him.

  “Sorry,” Trig said, abjectly apologetic. “I realize that kind of crude sexual innuendo is not the hallmark of a man who is ready for a committed, fulfilling relationship. It won’t happen again.”


  “I see you got as far as chapter eight of my book,” Celinda said approvingly. She rounded on Davis. “What is this triple-S method the Guild uses to take care of problems?”

  “It stands for shoot, shovel, and shut up,” Davis explained. “Old Earth saying, I think.”

  “Hmm.” She absorbed that. “Well, this is one time I’m not going to complain about Guild methods. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know that Landry is gone for good.”

  “We’ll make a Guild supporter out of you yet,” Trig said, grinning.

  “Don’t count on it,” she replied. “By the way, since you’re going to the trouble of actually reading my book, unlike some people I could name, I’ll give you some free matchmaking advice. Remember, under normal circumstances it would cost you a small fortune.”

  “I realize I could never afford you,” Trig said eagerly. “What’s the advice?”

  “You and Detective Martinez are made for each other. I suggest you give her a call as soon as you’re out of here.”

  “Yeah?” Trig’s eyes gleamed.

  She held up a hand, palm out. “Regardless of what happens, I definitely do not want to hear whether or not she wears the gun to bed. Is that clear?”

  “Absolutely,” Trig promised.

  Chapter 41

  IT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE’D HAD A CHANCE TO INVITE her to his place. Luckily it was the housekeeper’s regular cleaning day, so the apartment was in reasonably good shape. He picked up a bottle of champagne on the way home and dealt with dinner by ordering in. The night was warm and clear, so he served the pizza and salad on the balcony overlooking the Dead City.

  They had talked about everything except themselves for the past three hours. Unwinding, Davis thought. They had both needed some time to relax after the events of the day.

  Sometime after dinner he went back inside to get the bottle of Emerald Glow liqueur that he had bought along with the champagne. When he returned he saw that Celinda had risen from the lounger and was now leaning against the balcony railing. Araminta and Max were perched next to her.

  For a moment he just looked at her, aware of the sensation of deep, hungry longing welling up inside. She was turned partially away from him, one arm resting on the railing as she gazed pensively at the view of the ruins cloaked in the starry night. He could see the curve of her cheek and the sweet, echoing arcs of her shoulder, breast, and hip.

  He took a grip on his self-control, walked to the table, and poured two small glasses of the Emerald Glow. Her fingers brushed against his when he handed one of the glasses to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning to smile at him. “I need this. I’m exhausted, but I think I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight.”

  “It’s the adrenaline.” He swallowed some of the Emerald Glow, savoring the green heat. “It jacks you up and wears you out at the same time. Takes a while to de-rez. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days.”

  “Not my usual routine, that’s for sure.” She searched his face. “I don’t think it’s been routine for you, either. You never said what happened when you followed Hollings down into the rain forest.”

  He leaned both elbows on the railing, cradling the little glass in one hand, and looked out at the glowing ruins. “He used the relic on me. Felt like I was standing in front of a huge dam that had just broken. A wall of psi crashed over me, wiping out everything, my normal as well as my paranormal senses. It was chaos.” He stopped for a beat. “I thought I was dying.”

  “Davis.” She put her glass down and moved closer, sliding her arm around his waist. She leaned into him, letting him absorb her warmth the way she had the night she had driven him back to Cadence after the encounter with Landry’s men. She didn’t say anything more.

  He set his own glass aside and pulled her tightly to him, breathing in her scent.

  “You were right about the strategy to combat the effects of the relic,” he said into her hair. “I focused on something really important to me, something that was even more important than my own survival. I hung on to it the way a man hangs on to a life preserver when the ship is going down.”

  She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “Thank heavens it worked. I wasn’t sure if it would.”

  Very gently he eased back and used one finger to raise her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.

  “It was your name I used to anchor me in the storm, Celinda.”

  “My name?” She sounded bewildered.

  “I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die, because that would leave you in mortal danger from Hollings. I know that according to that book of yours, it’s probably way too soon to say this, but I love you.”

  “Oh, Davis.” She flung herself hard against him. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you from the moment I walked into my office at Promises, Inc., and sensed your psi energy. I knew that day that you were Mr. Perfect.”

  “Let me get this straight.” He laughed a little, as the euphoria hit him. “You fell in love with my psi wave patterns?”

  She raised her head. “I always knew I would recognize the man of my dreams when I met him.”

  “Hang on a second. Doesn’t that theory run counter to the advice in your book? Trig said that in chapter one it states very clearly that there is no such thing as love at first sight.”

  “If there is ever a second edition of the book, I’ll make it a point to correct that obviously inaccurate statement.”

  Chapter 42

  THE EXECUTIVE SUITE OF THE HIGH-RISE TOWER THAT housed the headquarters of the Cadence Guild had a very fine view of the Dead City. The interior décor of Mercer Wyatt’s private office was as sleek and sophisticated as that of any other seriously successful CEO in the city. Very mainstream, Celinda thought. If you didn’t know much about Guild history, you wouldn’t even guess that you were dealing with an organization that was steeped in secrecy, outmoded traditions, and archaic rules.

  “I’ve given your suggestion concerning how to handle the relics a great deal of thought, Miss Ingram,” Mercer Wyatt said.

  He was standing in front of the windows, looking even more formidable in person than he did in news photos or when he was being interviewed by a rez-screen reporter. From his hawklike features, silver hair, and specter-cat eyes to the heavy amber rings he wore on his hands, he projected an image of power.

  It was his eyes that had caught her attention when they had been introduced a short time ago. Emmett London had the same eyes. There were certain similarities in their psi patterns, too. She knew, without being told, that the rumors were true. Emmett was Wyatt’s son.

  Celinda was glad that she and Davis were not facing the Guild boss alone today. They had brought plenty of backup. Emmett and Lydia London were present. So was Max, who was perched on the back of Davis’s chair, and Araminta, who was peering out from the tote at Celinda’s feet.

  But Wyatt had some backup of his own, namely his elegant, attractive, much younger wife, Tamara. Davis had explained that Wyatt considered her his most trusted confidante. Tamara was a hunter, one of a statistically small number of women who possessed dissonance-energy para-rez talent. There were rumors circulating to the effect that Wyatt was grooming her to take over his position as head of the Guild. No one believed for one moment that he could do the impossible and install a female as the next boss of the Cadence Guild. But Wyatt had a reputation for getting what he wanted.

  It was that reputation that was worrying Celinda this morning.

  “It’s not a suggestion,” she said, keeping her tone very polite and respectful. No sense pissing off the Guild boss any more than absolutely necessary. “I must insist that both relics be turned over to a reputable medical research lab. If you want a suggestion, I’ll give you one. Put Dr. Phillips of the Glenfield Institute in charge of studying the therapeutic aspects of the relics.”

  Wyatt frowned. “I realize you are concerned about the Guild’s intentions toward the relics. I understand that your unfortunate experience with a m
ember of the Frequency City Guild has left you with a poor impression. However, I assure you that the Cadence Guild adheres to the strictest standards.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t trust the Guild establishment. In my opinion, the organizations lack an appropriate system of checks and balances. However, I will acknowledge that they have a role to play in society.”

  Wyatt’s silver brows rose. Something that might have been amusement gleamed in his dangerous eyes. “Do you, indeed? That is very open-minded of you.”

  “The Guilds are, however, peculiar blends of business corporations and emergency militias,” she continued. “I am convinced that if any Guild, including the Cadence Guild, gets its hands on the relics, they will view them as possible weapons. While I believe that they have only a very limited potential in that regard, it irritates me to think that the possible therapeutic qualities will be ignored.”

  Tamara, seated on a black leather chair, crossed her knees and looked suddenly very curious. “Why do you believe that the relics have only limited potential as weapons?”

  Celinda looked at her. “Several reasons. Based on my admittedly limited experience, I am convinced that only someone who possesses the type of psi talent that I have and that Dr. Hollings had can activate them. What’s more, it has to be a very strong form of that talent. That means that the pool of people who can resonate with the relics is probably going to be extremely limited.” She paused for emphasis. “And I’m betting that no ghost hunters will be in that pool.”

  “Why not?” Wyatt asked sharply.

  Lydia answered with a triumphant smile. “She’s right. It’s a known fact that when a particularly strong talent exists in an individual, it is not generalized across the psychic spectrum. It always takes a specific form such as the ability to resonate with ephemeral or dissonance energy. There is no recorded instance of a person possessing two equally powerful forms of psi talent. That certainly implies that no strong ghost hunters will be able to rez the relic.”