by Jayne Castle
The link between a talent and a prism was by nature an impersonal one. He had never heard of a case in which there were sexual overtones in the act of holding a focus. People said if you blindfolded a talent, it was impossible for the talent to tell if he or she was working with a man or a woman.
"Lucas?" Amaryllis sounded breathless. "Is anything wrong?"
"No." He wondered if she had felt anything. Maybe it was just him. Damned hormones.
Lucas fought for control. He was the Iceman. He exhaled halfway and fumbled again with the delicate link. Slowly, carefully he took hold of it.
It was as though he used his big, calloused hands to grapple with a strand of silk spun from fine crystal. He was terrified of ripping the fragile thread to shreds.
"It's okay," Amaryllis murmured at his side. "I won't break."
Gingerly, Lucas tightened his grip on the link. He felt the power vibrating in it, a natural complement to his own strength. She could handle him, or at least as much of him as he intended to use. Lucas relaxed slightly.
An unwarranted exhilaration rushed through him. It felt so good. So right. The sensation of intense intimacy returned. In that moment he felt closer to Amaryllis than he had ever felt to any other human being in his life.
He longed to know if Amaryllis was feeling the same surge of sexual desire that was soaring through him. He did not dare look at her.
He ordered himself to concentrate. This was business. Amaryllis probably didn't feel a thing. She was a pro. This weird stuff was probably only happening on his end of the link.
He eased raw energy through the unbelievably clear prism.
Out on the psychic plane, the normally chaotic, unpredictable talent flowed into the prism and emerged in the form of strong, sharply delineated bands of colored light. Almost a full spectrum. Lucas damped down the power level. He was supposed to be a nine, he reminded himself. He had to be careful.
But he allowed himself another few seconds to savor the experience. While it flowed through the prism, the rush of talent was steady and sure. He could use it just as he used his other senses. Pleasure and deep satisfaction welled up inside him.
This was how it was meant to feel, he thought. Natural. Powerful. It paid to work with a professional.
With gathering confidence, Lucas concentrated on the task at hand. His goal was to detect Merrick Beech in the act of using a hypno-talent.
The hum of music and conversation faded around him. Another kind of noise filled his head. He recognized it immediately. It was the echo of a strong talent at work somewhere nearby.
"I've got him," Lucas muttered.
"You've got someone." Amaryllis's voice held a new note of tension. "But it doesn't feel like a hypno-talent. I've focused for hypnos in the past, and they didn't feel anything like this."
"Damn." She was right. Lucas realized that while she was holding the focus, she felt and experienced everything he did. He did not want to dwell on all the ramifications right now. "What's going on?"
"I can't tell." Amaryllis paused. "But because you're a high-class detector, you're picking up the prism's energy, too. There's something familiar about the way he or she is working."
"Familiar?"
"A prism's technique usually reflects his or her training. There are nuances of style that vary from prism to prism—" Amaryllis broke off, apparently concentrating.
"Can you tell if the prism is a man or a woman?" Lucas asked.
"No more than you can tell if the talent is male or female."
He was in no doubt about the gender of the prism he was using, Lucas thought grimly. But she was right. He could not tell the sex of the other talent or prism in the hall.
"What sort of talent is it, Lucas?"
"I'm not sure. I'll try to get a handle on it." Lucas retuned the bands of light, searching for one that would clarify the other's talent.
He caught it, held it, analyzed it. "What the five hells is he doing?"
"Lucas?"
The strange talent snapped off abruptly.
Lucas reluctantly released the psychic link with Amaryllis. She looked at him with mute question in her eyes.
"He stopped focusing," Lucas said. "Shut down as though someone had thrown a switch."
"He?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure there's only one person in this room who would be using that kind of talent."
Amaryllis's fine mouth tightened into a disapproving line. "Whoever it was, he burned out his prism."
"You think so?"
"Yes, I do. He was too strong. They were obviously not properly matched by his focus agency. Obviously, he wasn't a Psynergy, Inc. client. We would never make a mistake of that sort."
"Of course not," Lucas murmured.
"That poor prism. Won't be able to work for at least a week, maybe longer. I understand the feeling of losing your ability to hold a focus is extremely unpleasant."
"It's not painful, is it?"
"No. Not exactly. But most people who've been through it describe it as a sense of something missing. As if they've lost a part of themselves. They say it feels very unnatural. There is no excuse for that sort of mismatch between prism and talent."
"Uh huh." Lucas listened to the lecture with only a portion of his attention as he searched for Miranda in the crowd.
"You said you knew who the talent is?"
"What? Oh, yeah, I think so. I'm guessing that because of the sort of talent he was using and the power level he employed, it was probably—hold on a second." Lucas broke off as Miranda Locking abruptly turned away from Merrick Beech and went down a darkened hall. "There she goes. Wonder what she's up to now."
"Who? Miss Locking?" Amaryllis followed his gaze. She frowned when she caught sight of Miranda. "She looks very upset."
"Maybe Beech isn't willing to pay her what she thinks Lodestar information is worth," Lucas muttered. "This whole thing has been a waste of time and money. I shouldn't have bothered to figure out why she was doing it. I should have just fired her and been done with it."
"She's headed toward the corridor that leads to the ladies' room." Amaryllis set down her glass. "I've got an idea. I'm going to follow her."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Miss Locking appears to be extremely anxious about something. I'm a prism, remember? That means I'm intuitive by nature."
"I've always felt that the theory that prisms are naturally more intuitive than other people was a myth," Lucas said dryly.
"Well, it's not. I'll follow Miss Locking into the restroom."
"Why?"
"In her present condition she might want to talk to another woman."
"You think she'll bare her soul to you? Forget it. That's the dumbest idea I've heard in a month."
Amaryllis met his eyes. "You want answers, don't you? I might be able to get them for you if I move quickly enough."
"Damn it, I don't want you getting involved in this."
"I already am involved. And I'm the only one who can follow Miss Locking into the restroom." Amaryllis whirled about and hurried off through the throng.
"Just a damn minute. Come back here. I'm in charge of this fiasco." Lucas realized that he was talking to himself. Never a good sign.
He swore silently as he watched Amaryllis make her way along the fringes of the crowd.
He had known it would be a mistake to work with a full-spectrum prism. Amaryllis was probably trying to prove how clever she was. Overcompensating for her lack of real talent, no doubt.
Typical prism. Headstrong, difficult, and unpredictable.
Unable to think of anything else to do, Lucas went after her.
Chapter 5
Amaryllis's hands were still trembling with reaction. She could not believe what had happened. She was a professional. True, she had only been working as a commercial prism for a few months, but she'd had years of experience in the academic world. She had a wall papered with degrees and certificates.
But she had been tota
lly unprepared for the effects of the link with Lucas. Nothing in her experience had led her to anticipate such a shockingly intimate sensation.
The few seconds of disorientation and the accompanying sense of vulnerability that preceded the actual link had not disturbed her. She was accustomed to that feeling. Every prism experienced a moment of blind, groping awareness. It passed as soon as the psychic link between talent and prism took hold.
The focus link itself was a remarkably uncomplicated, emotionally neutral matter. It was as natural as using one's eyes or ears or taste buds. The only way it differed from any of the other human senses was that it required two minds in order to function in a reliable fashion.
But what she had experienced during those few moments when she had held the focus with Lucas could definitely not be described as uncomplicated or emotionally neutral. What she had felt was pure, scorching sexual desire.
It was impossible, Amaryllis thought as she wove a path through the crowded hall. Nothing in the exhaustive research and testing done on the nature of the connection between talents and prisms had ever indicated that a sense of sexual intimacy was involved. She herself had worked with countless talents in and out of the lab. She had never felt anything that could have been described as even mildly arousing.
It seemed to Amaryllis that she could still smell the smoke from the fires of searing desire that had been lit during the link with Lucas. Now that she was free of the psychic connection, the deep longing was receding. But she had an unpleasant suspicion that the aftereffects were going to last for several hours.
It had been a struggle to conceal her reaction from Lucas. She hoped he hadn't noticed just how stunned she had been. At least she had managed to hold the focus in a reasonably professional manner.
Amaryllis took comfort from the knowledge that she had done her job properly, even under such adverse circumstances.
She would think about the problem later, she told herself as she followed Miranda Locking from a discreet distance. There had to be a logical explanation for the phenomenon.
At the moment she had other problems. Her client wanted answers. She would try to get them for him. This kind of thing was not in her job description, but Amaryllis believed in going the extra mile, regardless of the task. She knew what it felt like to need answers.
Miranda Locking did not pause at the door of the restroom. She went straight past it, moving swiftly down the hall toward the shadowed regions of an office corridor. Her high-heeled evening shoes made a loud tapping on the hardwood floor.
Surprised, Amaryllis grabbed a fistful of fluttering scarves and quickened her pace. Miranda's blond hair gleamed briefly in the hallway light, and then she turned a corner and disappeared.
Amaryllis broke into a run. Scarves flying, she rounded the corner.
And collided with Miranda Locking and Merrick Beech.
"What the hell?" Beech, a soft-featured man with a noticeable paunch, grunted heavily. He stumbled back against the wall, lost his balance completely, and sat down hard.
Miranda shrieked as Amaryllis plowed into her. "What do you think you're doing?" She staggered. Her high heels shot out from under her and she fell to the floor. Her large purse flew from her hand.
"Oomph." Amaryllis landed on top of her in a tangle of wildly fluttering scarves. "Sorry."
"Get off me, you idiot." Miranda struggled to a sitting position. "Who are you, anyway?" Her eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. "Did you follow me?"
"Sort of." Amaryllis scrambled to her knees.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Miranda's purse lying on the carpet. It had come open. A sheaf of papers had fallen out and scattered across the rug. Amaryllis saw the familiar green and gold Lodestar logo at the top of one of the pages. She could also see the red "Confidential" stamp.
"Damn." Merrick Beech apparently noticed the papers at the same moment that Amaryllis did. "The bid numbers." He started to heave himself to his feet.
A large foot sheathed in polished black leather came down on top of the incriminating papers.
"Five hells," Beech muttered. "Should have known you'd show up sooner or later, Trent."
Without a word, Lucas bent down to retrieve the papers that had fallen from Miranda's purse. He glanced at them briefly as he straightened.
"How much did you pay her, Beech?" he asked very softly.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Beech stood and brushed meticulously at his clothing. "Miranda and I are close friends. We were just having a quiet conversation here when this odd woman interrupted us."
Amaryllis glared at him as she got to her feet.
"I know who you are, Beech, and I know what you are," Lucas said. "I'll deal with you later. Get out of my sight."
Beech bridled. "Don't give me orders. You can't prove I did anything illegal, and even if you could, you wouldn't press charges. We're all adults here. We know the facts of corporate life."
"I said, I will deal with you later, Beech."
At that moment Amaryllis could have sworn that she felt a cold wind move through the hall, but the scarves of her gown did not move. She shivered and automatically glanced around to see if there was an open window in the vicinity. She did not see one.
Beech's eyes widened and then narrowed quickly. His face turned an unpleasant shade of red. "You can't intimidate me."
Lucas just looked at him. He said nothing.
"Bastard," Beech snarled. "I'll go to the police."
Amaryllis was outraged. "Really, Mr. Beech, you have no call to act as if you are the offended party here. I think it's obvious to everyone present that you have been involved in some sort of unethical and very probably illegal activity. You should be ashamed of yourself. My personal opinion is that Mr. Trent should prosecute."
"Oh, shut up," Beech muttered. "There isn't a damn thing Trent can do to me."
"What about your own conscience, Mr. Beech?" Amaryllis demanded. "How will you justify your activities to yourself?"
Icy amusement glittered in Lucas's eyes. "Yeah, Beech. What about your conscience? Maybe it needs a little prodding."
Beech sputtered in helpless fury. "Don't threaten me."
"I'm not threatening you. I'm going to give you some advice. It's time for a lateral career move, Beech. Get out of New Seattle and stay out."
"You can't do this to me." Beech started to edge his way along the corridor wall. "You know you can't."
Lucas gazed at him thoughtfully. Another whisper of cold wind wafted through the hall. Amaryllis's dress did not flutter, but she realized she had goose bumps on her arms.
Beech's mouth worked. Then, with an inarticulate exclamation, he turned and fled.
Amaryllis exhaled deeply, releasing the breath she had not been aware of holding.
Miranda lifted her chin and stared at Lucas with seething, defiant eyes. "He didn't have to pay for the information, Lucas. I gave it to him for free."
Lucas studied her with an unreadable expression. "Mind telling me why?"
"You fool. You really don't know, do you? In three long years, you've never once figured it out."
"Enlighten me."
Miranda raised her head with fierce pride. "I did it to avenge Jackson."
"Jackson?" Lucas stared at her.
"He was your partner and you killed him, you murdering bastard. I knew I'd never be able to prove it, so I found another way to get revenge."
"What are you talking about?"
Miranda shoved a wing of pale hair back out of her eyes. Tears shimmered on her cheeks. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. You wanted to get rid of Jackson because you had no further use for him."
"Miranda—" Lucas broke off abruptly, as if he had no more words.
"You used him to set up your business contacts here in the city because his family had the connections you needed. Then you got rid of him."
Shocked, Amaryllis took a step toward Miranda, her hand outstretched. "That's not true. It can't be true."
<
br /> "What would you know about it?" Miranda pulled quickly back out of Amaryllis's reach. "You weren't there. Lucas set him up to be killed by those pirates. I know he did. It's the only explanation. There's no other reason why it happened the way it did. No reason why Jackson would have been at that cabin with her that day."
"Miss Locking, listen to me." Amaryllis took another step closer.
"Don't come near me," Miranda hissed. "Lucas knew what would happen when he sent Jackson to that abandoned base camp. He sent Jackson into the jungle to die." She spun around and ran off down the hall. The echo of her footsteps rang in the corridor for a long time.
"Three years." Lucas eased the Icer to a stop in front of Amaryllis's small house. "She blamed me for Jackson's death for three years. Plotted against me all that time. And I never knew what was going on."
Amaryllis gave a small start at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Lucas had spoken since the scene with Miranda and Beech in the museum corridor. It was not just the surprise of hearing the heavy silence broken at last that made her flinch. It was the disbelief and pain embedded in the words.
She glanced uneasily at Lucas's grim profile. He sat, one big hand resting on the steering bar, and gazed out into the night. The light from Chelan and Yakima, St. Helens's two moons, etched his face in cold silver and bleak shadows.
"I'm sorry." Amaryllis decided that this was not the time to mention that she would put his bill in the mail first thing in the morning.
"I trusted her."
Amaryllis did not know what to say to that. "Don't blame yourself. It's common knowledge that high-class talents are not usually very intuitive."
"I wanted to do something for her." Lucas clenched the steering bar so tightly that the moonlight gleamed white on his knuckles. "I knew that Rye's death had hit her hard. The company had an obligation to take care of her. She had been engaged to Jackson. They were due to be married in the spring of that year. Lodestar looks after its own."
"I understand. These things are difficult." Amaryllis groped for the door handle.