by Jayne Castle
He was quiet for a long moment.
"I guess it just never felt right," he said eventually. "Or maybe it never seemed necessary. I could never see the point of an MC. Always figured that when the time came, I'd go all the way with a Covenant Marriage."
She looked down at the dark shapes of the trees in the park, aware of another wave of guilt rolling over her. Emmett was a romantic at heart, a man who had planned to wait until he found the right woman. Who would have believed that a Guild boss would have had such a sentimental side to his nature?
"What about you?" he said. "How come you never got into an MC until now?"
She pulled herself out of the sea of guilt and tried to formulate an answer to his question. "I've been very busy for the past few years, what with getting my degrees and starting my career."
"No time for marriage?"
"Not exactly." She hesitated. "I suppose what it comes down to is that I never dated anyone I wanted to actually share a home with, if you know what I mean."
"Ryan Kelso," he said dryly.
She blushed and was grateful for the cover of darkness. She preferred to forget Professor Ryan Kelso, the man she had been dating at the time of her disaster. Ryan had dumped her even before the university had fired her.
"Ryan was obviously a mistake," she conceded. "Sort of like you and Tamara."
"Uh-huh."
"But at least I was only thinking of an MC with Ryan." She grimaced. "Not a Covenant Marriage like you and Tamara were planning."
"I would take it as a great favor if you would not remind me of that period in my life."
The cloud of depression got heavier.
"Well, we both had extremely narrow escapes and we should be grateful fate intervened," she declared, trying to sound positive.
"This is true." Emmett put one foot on the lowest bar of the terrace railing. "But the bottom line here is that due to fate, some narrow escapes, and your announcement to the Cadence media this afternoon, we find ourselves confronted with a wedding night that neither of us had planned."
"I guess you could say that."
"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I seem to recall that it is traditional to consummate the marriage on the wedding night."
She couldn't have moved if a ghost had materialized right in front of her. What was the matter with her?
After a minute that felt like half an eternity, Emmett moved. He straightened, reached out, and took the flute from her nerveless fingers.
When he turned to set the glasses on the table the low light spilling through the glass doors glinted on his strong cheekbones. She could not even breathe now.
It's only an MC, she chanted silently. It's only an MC.
Ah, but he's mine for a year and I do love him so.
Emmett pulled her into his arms and smiled very slowly. "Hello, Mrs. London."
"Emmett." She flung her arms around him.
He wrapped her close, tilted her chin up, and kissed her very deliberately, as though he sought to stamp an impression on her mouth.
She stopped trying to tell herself that this night was the same as the others that she had spent with Emmett. There was something new between them. The vows that they had spoken today, even though they were only meant to bind them together for a year, made a difference and so did the ring on her finger.
This was her husband. At least for a while. Desire and a curious sense of possessiveness soared through her.
Emmett picked her up in his arms and started toward the glass doors.
He halted abruptly on the threshold, setting her on her feet with such shocking suddenness that her head spun. She had to grab the door frame to steady herself. Somewhere in the shadows, Fuzz rumbled a warning.
She finally caught the pulse of invisible psi energy in the air around her. Not the soft whispers that seeped from the Dead City, she realized, but the unmistakable chaos of unstable dissonance energy.
Acid green light flared at the edge of the terrace. The ghost took shape with terrifying speed. In seconds it was a swirling, pulsing ball of crackling energy moving straight toward them.
Fuzz leaped off the railing and streaked across the terrace to Lydia. She picked him up quickly, holding him close.
"Take him inside and stay out of the way." Emmett gave the order in a flat, cold voice.
She did not hesitate. When it came to dealing with a ghost, there was nothing like a really good hunter and Emmett was one of the best.
With Fuzz cradled under one arm, she hurried through the glass doors, giving Emmett all the space he needed on the terrace to do what he did so well.
When she turned around she was shocked to see how large the finished UDEM was. The core was a very hot green, indicating that the pattern in which the psi energy resonated was extremely complicated. Not your average ghost, by any means.
She had seen such UDEMs inside the catacombs, but never here outside the walls of the Dead City. Whoever was manipulating this one had to be an extremely powerful hunter. She also knew that he had to be somewhere nearby. It wasn't possible to energize and control a ghost from a distance any greater than half a city block at most. A hunter had to be fairly close to be effective. The one who had sent this one up onto the terrace was probably down below in the park, hiding in the trees.
Emmett was taking his time, analyzing his opponent. In her experience, hunters generally liked to move in fast and kick up a lot of flashy energy. Emmett was certainly capable of summoning a ghost as quickly as any other hunter when the necessity arose. But given an option, he preferred to work more deliberately.
It took a ghost to stop a ghost. Nothing else could do the job. You couldn't de-rez one with a bullet, fire, water, amber-generated electricity, or any other force that had yet been discovered. Since ghosts were a fact of life in and around the Dead Cities, ghost-hunters had a lot of job security.
The pulsating mass of dissonance energy was so close now that Lydia could feel psi currents rolling across the terrace and into the room where she stood with Fuzz. Acid green light illuminated the scene.
Fuzz's fur was slicked back so tightly that she could see his ears. The hair on the nape of her neck lifted. There were goosebumps on her arms.
The dangerous ghost wasn't the only source of psi power in the vicinity. Emmett was brewing up a storm of his own.
Outside on the terrace another ball of roiling energy took shape. Emmett was constructing a smaller but far denser ghost to counter the threatening UDEM. Lydia could see that the energy he had summoned and manipulated into a resonating pattern burned more hotly at its core than that which powered the attacking ghost.
She knew theoretically what he was doing. Technically, de-rezzing a ghost wasn't much different than untangling an illusion trap. The trick was to tune in to the resonating patterns of psi energy and counter them with an opposing pattern that gradually dampened and neutralized the core. Like so many things in life it fell in to the category of easier said than done.
There was so much wild green energy whipping around on the terrace now that psi power lit up the night. Somewhere down below in the park Lydia heard a dog bark. A window was flung open.
"It's a ghost, Harry, a really big one," a woman yelled. "And it's right next door. Get the dog back inside. Hurry."
The mutt barked louder. Lydia heard more windows open.
"What the hell?" a man shouted from the terrace of the house on the other side of Emmett's. "There's two of 'em. The guy who lives in Number Seventeen has one going. Woo-hoo. Hey, Martha, didn't I tell you it was a good idea to have the new Guild boss living right next door?"
"I'm not so sure about that," Martha shot back. "We never had any ghosts in this neighborhood before London moved in."
"I don't get it," someone else said. "Ghosts aren't supposed to be able to get that big outside the catacombs."
"I told you, I didn't think it would be safe living this close to the Wall, didn't I, Joe?" a woman snapped. "But, you wouldn't listen to me, would you? The n
eighborhood has so much character, you said. It will be a terrific investment, you said. Well, you know what I think? I think we're going to be damn lucky if those two ghosts don't set fire to our fabulous real estate investment. And you know our insurance policy doesn't cover ghost damage."
At that moment Emmett's ghost drifted into the very heart of the advancing UDEM. Green energy spiked high into the night sky and then both ghosts winked out of existence.
An unnatural silence gripped the street. Lydia allowed herself to exhale. Fuzz wriggled out of her arms, tumbled back out onto the terrace, and leaped to the top of the railing. He crouched there, staring out into the night with all four eyes.
"He's down there, isn't he, buddy? Let's see if we can catch him." Emmett snatched up Fuzz and plunged back into the house.
"Emmett, be careful," Lydia called as he swept past her.
He was already on the stairs. She heard the front door open before she was halfway down. When she reached the entrance she confronted a wall of fog that glowed with the reflected glare of the old-fashioned streetlamps. Visibility was limited to a few feet. She could not even see the town houses across the street.
Somewhere in the misty distance she heard the sound of Emmett's swift footsteps. When they grew more muffled and faint she knew that he had gone down one of the narrow walks that led into the park.
She was almost positive that he would not find his quarry. The fog and the night would provide cover for the rogue hunter who had conjured the attacking ghost.
Emmett released Fuzz as soon as they hit the park. It was worth a try, he thought, although he was not feeling very optimistic. By now the other hunter would be long gone.
"Find him, Fuzz."
The dust-bunny's night vision and sense of smell were a lot more acute than his own, Emmett thought, and the little creature seemed to understand what was expected of him. Fuzz was, after all, a natural-born hunter of another kind.
Fuzz vanished into the night-and-fog-drenched park. Emmett followed, listening for sounds that might indicate stealthy movement. He had melted amber de-rezzing the ghost and his senses were still humming at high-rez. The potent bio-cocktail unleashed into his system as a result of the heavy expenditure of psi power would take a while to wear off.
He knew the pattern all too well. He was going to be very wide awake and very aroused for about an hour and then he would crash for several hours. That was how it went after a major burn. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
Hell of a way to spend a wedding night, he thought.
A few minutes later Fuzz tumbled out of the shadows and into the light of one of the park lamps. He scampered up Emmett's pant leg with a piece of paper clutched in one front paw.
"What have you got there, pal?" Emmett took the scrap of paper from Fuzz. He rezzed the flashlight he had grabbed from one of the drawers in the hall cabinet on the way out the door. "A parking garage receipt."
He glanced at the logo stamped at the top of the receipt. CityCenterGarage. Yesterday's date, he noticed.
He knew that garage well. It was the one that was located most conveniently to the office tower that housed the headquarters of the Cadence Guild. Everyone who worked in the building used it.
In theory that deduction gave him several hundred suspects not including all those people who might have parked there yesterday simply because they had some business in the building. But he knew that he could rule out most of them immediately.
There were not many hunters who could conjure a ghost the size of the one on the terrace tonight outside the catacombs. Most of those who were capable of such a feat sat on the Guild Council. That left him with ten suspects.
He was pretty sure he could narrow that number even more—all the way down to one.
Chapter 15
Lydia was waiting for them when they walked back into the front hall of Number Seventeen. Her face was etched with anxiety.
"Are you okay?" she demanded, closing the door behind them.
"We're both fine."
That wasn't strictly true. The afterburn was hitting him very hard now. With no threat in sight to distract him, he was plunged into the grip of raw lust. But he had never allowed himself to give in to the sexual craving inspired by a meltdown and he had no intention of doing so tonight. He was in control; he was always in control.
Lydia stood directly in front of him, frowning in concern. He looked at her standing there in the hall with the light from the lamp overhead gleaming on her red-gold hair. Her eyes were so deep and blue that he wanted to dive straight in and swim to the bottom. The urge to pull her down onto the floor, spread her legs, and thrust himself into her was almost overwhelming. He wanted to take her again and again until he was spent and empty.
Not exactly the romantic wedding night scenario of every woman's dreams, he thought.
He pulled himself together with an effort, set Fuzz down on the bottom step, and showed Lydia the garage receipt. "I'm guessing our guy dropped it. Fuzz seemed to think it was important enough to bring back to me."
Her brows drew together. "It doesn't tell us much, just that whoever lost it probably works in the Guild building. That's no big surprise, but there must be hundreds of Guild employees there."
"Yeah." He was having trouble concentrating. He was too busy looking down the front of her dress. The urge to touch her breasts was so strong it made his palms tingle.
He forced himself to turn away and walk deliberately to the ornately carved wooden cabinet of curiosities that he had installed in the front hall. The relic was an antique from Old Earth that one of his ancestors had managed to smuggle onboard a ship carrying colonists through the Curtain to Harmony.
"Who would do this, Emmett?"
"Don't worry about it." He rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to think about how good she smelled when she was damp and aroused. "I'll handle the problem."
"Obviously someone doesn't like the idea of you taking over the local Guild even on a temporary basis."
"I said, I'll deal with it." He slammed the little drawer shut and raised his eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror that hung above the cabinet. Big mistake.
She blinked and then frowned in concern. "Are you sure you're all right?"
He glanced at his watch and set his jaw. "In about forty minutes I'm going to crash. Until then I should probably go stand under a cold shower."
"Ah, so that's it." She visibly relaxed. "You melted amber, didn't you?"
"Didn't have much choice." He scrubbed his face with his hand. "That was the strongest ghost I've ever seen outside the catacombs."
"And now you're in the postmeltdown stage? The one where you get all lusty for a while and then collapse and sleep for hours?"
"That pretty much sums it up, yeah." He made a face. "Sorry about this. Not exactly how I'd intended to end the evening."
"It's okay," she said gently.
Her response was no doubt meant to soothe him but it had the opposite effect. She didn't understand, he reminded himself. She couldn't know that he'd spent most of his adult life trying not to become the stereotypical ghost-hunter of folklore and legend, trying to maintain control.
"No, it is not okay." Frustration sizzled through him, sharpening all the edges. "Damn it, this is our wedding night. I had plans for this evening. Champagne and soft music and…" He broke off, moving one hand in a gesture of sheer disgust. "All the rest."
Her eyes filled with wonder. "Emmett, that is so sweet, so romantic."
Sweet? Romantic? He gave serious consideration to turning her over his knee.
Bad idea. Now he was obsessing on her lovely ass. Think about something else. Like all that paperwork sitting on his desk down at Guild headquarters.
"You'd better go to bed now, Lydia." He made to step around her. "You can have the guest room tonight."
"Don't be ridiculous." She blocked his path. "You don't have to worry about freaking me out. This isn't the first time I've seen you in this condition
."
"Nothing happened last time and nothing's going to happen this time," he vowed. "In a little while I'll crash and sleep it off."
"But meanwhile you want to have hot, steamy sex, right?"
He wished she hadn't used the words hot and steamy in the same sentence. "I'll survive without it."
"It's all right." She put her arms around his neck and smiled. "I like having sex with you, remember?"
He stood very still. With an act of sheer will power he managed to keep his hands at his sides.
"That's not the point," he replied.
"Oh, yeah?" Her smile grew more tantalizing, more inviting. Her eyes were filled with sensual mysteries. "What is the point here? I just told you I'm not nervous in the least. Maybe you're the one who's running scared? What's the matter, London? Afraid you'll lose control?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Being in control is a very big thing with you, isn't it?" she whispered. "It took me a while to realize just how important it is. But you know what? Sometimes it's okay to just let go. This is one of those times."
She tightened her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts and hips against his tight, heavily aroused body, and kissed him with a bold, teasing deliberation. At the touch of her warm, damp mouth, his resolution was shattered.
Hell with it. Why was he fighting this so damn hard? Tonight was his wedding night and his wife wanted to make love.
His wife.
It was as if a prison door had suddenly opened, allowing him to walk free. A sense of spiraling anticipation rushed through him.
"So you're not scared of me tonight?" He cupped her face in his hands. "Think you can handle your hunter husband when he's in full afterburn?"
Her eyes widened a little but she did not try to back away. "You may be one heck of a hunter, Emmett London, but I'm one heck of a tangler. I can handle you."
Heat swept through him. "Oh, man, I can't wait to see just how you do that."
He moved, catching her wrists and pinning her against the wall beside the cabinet of curiosities before she even realized what had happened. Bending his head, he kissed her, not holding anything back, letting her know just how hot he burned tonight.