St Helens 01 Amaryllis

by Jayne Castle

  "And you refused to give it to him?"

  "Why would I bother to help him put together a story filled with lies and innuendoes?" Lucas leaned back in his chair and braced his hands on the arms. "There was certainly nothing in it for me. Lodestar didn't need that kind of publicity."

  "You're telling me that you forced Burlton to drop the story because you feared it would be bad for business?"

  Lucas smiled humorlessly. "You know me as well as anyone, Rye. Can you think of any other reason why I would have bothered to kill Burlton's story?"

  A deep flush suffused Calvin's patrician cheekbones. He held Lucas's gaze for a long moment, but eventually his eyes slid away. He began to pace the office. "You have acknowledged that your actions are grounded in reasons of expediency. Can you blame me for wondering why you chose to rescue Dillon the other night?"

  "No. But you'll have to take my word for it that I had no ulterior motive. If Dillon had not chosen to tell you the truth about his situation, you would never have heard it from me. I promised him that I wouldn't discuss the subject with anyone. Whatever else you may think of me, I'm a man of my word."

  Calvin paused to study a photograph of Port LeConner that hung on one wall. "Dillon tells me that he wants to go to work for Lodestar."

  "I know."

  "His mother is opposed to the idea."

  "I'm not surprised."

  "She blames Lodestar for Jackson's death."

  "You mean she blames me."

  Calvin did not respond. He stared at the photo.

  "She can't protect Dillon forever," Lucas said quietly. "He's twenty-three years old. You and I both know he needs a chance to become a man. He can't do that if you and Beatrice keep him tied to home and hearth. I realize you don't want him to work for me, but there are worse alternatives."

  "You refer to that damned huckster who's trying to get him to invest in a fire crystal exploration project?"

  "Yes. One way or another, Dillon will seek his own path. He's got spirit and ambition, and he hungers for adventure. Don't kill those qualities, Calvin. He'll resent you for the rest of his life if you try."

  "I don't need your advice on how to rear my son."

  Lucas said nothing.

  Calvin put his hand on the knob. "I owe you sixty-five thousand dollars."

  "No. You don't owe me a damn thing. I won't accept your check. Dillon owes me the sixty-five grand. Someday he'll repay it."

  "It's a huge debt for a boy his age."

  "If he's as ambitious as I think he is, he can pay it off in three years working for Lodestar."

  Calvin's jaw tightened. "I tried to make him take money from me to pay you off. He refused."

  "That and the fact that he confessed the truth about the debt should tell you something important about him."

  Calvin drew himself up. "And just what would that be?"

  "That you've done a fine job raising him," Lucas said softly. "It's time to show him that you have some faith in him. Let him become the man he wants to be."

  "My wife is terrified that he'll come to the same end that his brother did. We don't need another dead hero in the family."

  "There are no more pirates in the Western Islands," Lucas pointed out dryly. "And I can assure you that, as president of Lodestar, I've taken measures to protect the islands and the people who work there."

  Calvin's hand clenched around the knob. "I wish I could be certain that you didn't believe anything Nelson Burlton had to say about Jackson."

  Lucas met Calvin's eyes across the width of the office. "I know the truth about Jackson."

  "So you say. Still, I can't help but wonder if you've got your hooks into Dillon in order to exact revenge for what you may think happened in the islands three years ago."

  "I'll be honest with you, Rye. Even if I believed all of Burlton's innuendoes and lies concerning Jackson, I wouldn't take my revenge out on Dillon."

  Calvin searched his face. "Why not?"

  "Dillon is not Jackson. I don't believe in the old adage about making the family pay for the sins of the children."

  "How do I know that?"

  Lucas smiled bleakly. "I guess you'll just have to have a little faith in an old friend of the family."

  Shortly before five, Amaryllis left the offices of her last client for the day, a gem-talent who had needed her services in order to ascertain the quality of the stones in a recent shipment.

  A long, white limousine with ink-dark windows waited at the curb. She glanced at it curiously as she turned to walk toward the bus stop.

  The rear door of the big car opened. Gifford stepped out of the limo. He was dressed in his trademark silver gray suit and red bow tie. He gave Amaryllis a wry, diffident smile.

  "You're certainly traveling in style these days, Gifford." Amaryllis came to a halt on the sidewalk.

  "Amaryllis, I have to talk to you."

  "I'm on my way back to the office."

  "I'll give you a lift." Gifford took a step closer. "Please. This won't take long."

  "I'd rather walk."

  "Wait." Gifford put out a hand to catch hold of her arm. "I've got a problem. A big one. I need your help."

  She saw the desperate, beseeching urgency in his eyes and knew intuitively that it was genuine. "What's wrong?"

  "I'll explain everything in the car. Amaryllis, if I ever meant anything at all to you, please say you'll at least listen to me."

  "I don't have much time." Amaryllis reluctantly allowed herself to be drawn toward the sleek limo. "If you promise this won't take long—"

  "It won't. I swear it."

  She didn't see the other occupant of the car until she got into the rear seat. By then it was too late.

  "Good afternoon, Ms. Lark," Madison Sheffield said. "I can't tell you how much Osterley and I appreciate your willingness to help the cause."

  Chapter 14

  "What is going on here?" Amaryllis glowered furiously at Madison Sheffield. "I haven't volunteered for anything. Furthermore—"

  She broke off as the limo door closed with a soft, solid kachunk. She whirled in the seat to confront Gifford. "Open that door this instant, do you hear me? I do not intend to go anywhere in this vehicle."

  Gifford grimaced but said nothing as the car slithered into motion.

  "Did you hear me, Gifford?"

  "Please calm down, Ms. Lark." Madison's voice was soothing. Very soothing. He reclined on the opposite seat, a picture of sober, conservative elegance in his dark suit and discreet tie. "I am only asking for a few minutes of your time. I assure you it's in the interests of our beloved city-state."

  "This is kidnapping, which happens to be illegal in our beloved city-state," Amaryllis snapped. "Stop this car and open that door at once or I'll notify the police."

  "Take it easy, Amaryllis," Gifford pleaded. "Give Sheffield a chance to explain, will you?"

  "Please, hear me out." Sheffield's eyes were eloquent with humble need. "I must have your help. Gifford here has done his best, but it has become obvious that he is out of his league."

  "You burned out another one of his prisms last night, didn't you?" Amaryllis did not wait for a response. She turned back to Gifford. "Just what league are you playing in, Gifford Osterley?"

  "I can't supply Sheffield with a prism strong enough to work with the upper ranges of his talent," Gifford muttered. "You're the only one I know who might be able to handle him. He's a class ten." Gifford gave Madison an uneasy glance. "Maybe higher."

  "Considerably higher, I suspect," Amaryllis said. "Gifford, how could you get involved in this situation?"

  "I haven't done anything wrong." Gifford tugged at his red bow tie as if it was too snug around his neck. "It's not a crime to provide focus services for a high-class talent."

  Amaryllis did not bother to conceal her disgust. "You must know how Sheffield is using his talent."

  "I am attempting to use my God-given talent for the good of my city-state, Ms. Lark." Madison appeared to be deeply hurt b
y her implied accusations. "I will admit that I have trouble controlling it at times, but that is hardly my fault. I'm sure you are well aware that there are few if any mentors for class-ten-plus talents."

  "How would you know?" Amaryllis retorted. "You've never bothered to get yourself tested."

  "I consider it an invasion of privacy," Madison said. "The founders would never have submitted to having perfectly natural, normal human abilities tested, certified, and ranked. But that is not the point."

  "What is the point?"

  "I need you, Ms. Lark." Madison's mellifluous voice reverberated in the confines of the big car.

  "You want me to help you use your talent to raise campaign funds? Forget it. I do not consider that an ethical use of talent."

  Gifford shot Madison a shuttered glance. "I told you this wasn't going to be easy."

  "I would have been deeply disappointed if it had been."

  Madison's gaze warmed with admiration as he studied Amaryllis. "I have great respect for your reservations and ethical concerns, Ms. Lark. Gifford here tried to dissuade me from seeking your assistance, but the more I heard about you, the more I knew that you were the prism for me."

  Amaryllis glared at Gifford. "Just what did you tell him?"

  "That you were a prissy, straitlaced, self-righteous full-spectrum prism who seemed to think it was her job in life to act as a goddamned conscience for everyone else."

  Amaryllis felt the heat rise in her face. "I see."

  "A conscience is precisely what I want, Ms. Lark," Madison said gently.

  Amaryllis blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

  "It's not that I lack one of my own." Madison chuckled ruefully. "I assure you my parents saw to it that I was raised to uphold the strictest set of principles. My family believed in the basic tenets of our founders' values before the term became part of our common parlance."

  "How nice for you."

  "But there are few guidelines for off-the-scale talents, as you well know, Ms. Lark."

  "Such talents don't require special rules," Amaryllis said. "The nature of right and wrong does not alter as one rises higher on the psychic energy scale."

  Gifford rolled his eyes and tugged at his bow tie again.

  "You don't understand, Ms. Lark," Madison said gently. "I still fumble with my great talent from time to time. As I said, it is not always easy to control it, let alone to apply it appropriately."

  Amaryllis tapped one finger on the plush car seat. "Is that right?"

  "Yes. But I am determined to use my gifts for the betterment of our city-state. To accomplish my goals I require the focus services of a strong-minded, highly principled full-spectrum prism. Someone who can guide me when my talent surges to the fore. Someone who can control and focus my psychic gifts so that they may be used to help others."

  It occurred to Amaryllis that the compelling power of Madison's voice had grown stronger during the past few minutes. She realized it was getting easier to believe that he meant every word he said.

  Too easy.

  She glanced suspiciously at Gifford. He did not look at her. He sat silently in his corner, gazing out the tinted windows.

  "There are those who would consider a prism with your high moral standards as something of a nuisance, Ms. Lark." Madison leaned forward slightly. His eyes gleamed with an almost overpowering sincerity. "But I consider you to be a godsend. You are the prism for whom I have been searching all my life. I seek a helpmate and a soulmate, someone whose own psychic powers match my own and whose sense of values is in harmony with mine."

  He had been looking for her all of his life. Unlike everyone else, he didn't consider her ethical standards to be irritating and naive. He valued her skills and her integrity. Madison Sheffield needed her to help him fight the good fight.

  A sense of glowing pride unfurled within Amaryllis. At last she had found a high-class talent who appreciated her. It would be so immensely satisfying, both professionally and personally, to work with such a powerful, influential man. How deeply rewarding it would be to focus for a man who sought her guidance and direction. Madison Sheffield offered the culmination of her dreams.

  It would be a perfect psychic match.

  "I don't know what to say." Amaryllis shot another glance at Gifford, who was still staring out the window. "You've taken me by surprise, Senator."

  "I realize that." Madison smiled wryly. "And after what happened last night, you have every right to be suspicious of my intentions."

  Amaryllis shook off a seductive urge to brush the matter aside. "That brings up a very important issue. What you did last night was wrong, Senator. Using your talent to try to coerce people into supporting you is very unethical. I'm sure the founders would never have approved."

  "You're quite right, of course." Madison looked into her eyes. "But in my own defense, I must tell you that I was not really interested in acquiring Trent's support last night. It was all something of a smoke screen."

  "Smoke screen?"

  "In my own clumsy fashion, I was trying to test your psychic capabilities." Madison shook his head with admiration. "Gifford had told me that you were a very powerful prism and that you were currently focusing for Trent. Frankly, I doubted the extent of your abilities. When I saw you at the reception, I decided to conduct a quick test."

  "I see."

  "Forgive me. But allow me to tell you that I was extremely impressed. I envy Trent. I have never had the pleasure of working with a prism as strong as yourself."

  Amaryllis considered her sudden wish to let bygones be bygones. It was very strong. Too strong.

  She glared at Gifford's averted face.

  "Stop it," she said.

  Gifford glanced at her. "Stop what?"

  "You're focusing for him. Stop it right now. We both know you aren't strong enough to handle much more of his talent, anyway. You're close to your limits. You may as well quit."

  Gifford sighed, glanced at Madison, and then shrugged in resignation.

  Madison's compelling sincerity faded back into the normal range. It was still palpable, but now it had a practiced, superficial quality. It was the sort of sincerity one associated with politicians. Easy to discount.

  "Think about my offer, Ms. Lark." Madison's smile had not altered, but it no longer held the warmth it once had. "Both of us know that it is unsatisfying not to be able to use one's psychic gifts to the fullest extent. Rather like wearing blinders to prevent oneself from seeing properly. One chafes under the restriction. Surely nature never intended for people like you and me to allow our powers to languish from lack of use."

  "I'm not sure what nature's intentions are, but I won't help you use your talent in an unethical manner," Amaryllis vowed.

  "I would not dream of asking you to do so. If you come to work for me, I guarantee that you will have every opportunity to use your ability to focus in ways that are completely acceptable to you. Think of it, Ms. Lark. You can devote yourself to serving your city-state. You will act as my guide and my mentor."

  Amaryllis looked at him very steadily. "I don't have a great interest in politics. Please take me home, Senator."

  Madison's fine mouth tightened. But he inclined his head politely. "As you wish, Ms. Lark. I trust you will consider my offer. We would make a great team. Together we can make a difference."

  "You should be ashamed of yourself, Senator. You say you hold to the traditions of the founders, but a true founder would be appalled at how low you're willing to stoop in order to get to the governor's office."

  Sheffield's gaze hardened. "My dear, you are painfully naive. The truth is that the founders believed in doing whatever was necessary to protect the city-state. I am proud to follow in their footsteps."

  Amaryllis did not respond. She sat silently in her seat until the limousine glided to a halt in front of her home. Her cozy little house had never appeared so warm and safe and welcoming.

  When the door of the limo opened, she saw that Lucas's Icer was parked at the curb. He
was leaning against the fender, arms folded across his chest.

  "Ms. Lark?" Sheffield put his hand on her arm. "Remember what I said. I offer you a future of selfless public service. The governor's chair is only a stop along the way. One day I shall be president of the United City-states. You can be at my side when that day comes. Not only as my prism but as my wife."

  "Your wife." Amaryllis stopped half in and half out of the car.

  "Why not?" Sheffield smiled coolly. "Think about it. You were born a bastard, Ms. Lark. I can make you the wife of the president. I offer you the opportunity to rise above all the shame and humiliation your family suffered because of your birth."

  Amaryllis flew out of the limo. She ran to Lucas, who opened his arms and folded her close.

  She buried her face against his shoulder as the long, pale limousine snaked off into the distance.

  "That does it. Sheffield has gone too far." Lucas stood in front of the jelly-ice fire and gazed into the flames. He had to work hard to conceal the depths of his anger from Amaryllis. He was afraid it would alarm her to know just how furious he was.

  Sheffield had tried his own perverted brand of seduction on Amaryllis, and he had been unforgivably shrewd about it. He had been clever enough to appeal to the core of indomitable virtue that was so much a part of her,

  "It's all right, Lucas." Amaryllis was curled in the corner of the sofa, her feet tucked under her. "I told him that I had no intention of going to work for him."

  "I should have guessed that sooner or later Sheffield would come after you. There aren't that many prisms who can handle a class-nine or ten talent, let alone one who is off the scale."

  "Gifford told him about me."

  "Osterley has probably run through every full-spectrum prism on his own staff trying to satisfy Sheffield."

  "Yes. Lucas, this is growing more difficult at every turn. Sheffield is obviously bound and determined to use his talent to get to the governor's chair and eventually to the presidency. He gave me a pious speech about wanting to employ his gifts with the ethical guidance of a trained prism. But if he actually had any ethics of his own, he would never have used his talent the way we've seen him use it."