by Jayne Castle
“Why not?” Lucas said. He set the glass of watery punch down on a nearby table and waited with stoic patience while Elaine unsheathed her camera.
Just as she was about to snap the picture, Amaryllis slipped gracefully out of range.
“No, wait, I want you in the shot, too, Miss Lark.” Elaine lowered her camera and motioned Amaryllis back to stand beside Lucas. “Please.”
Amaryllis shook her head politely but firmly. “I don’t think that would be right. Mr. Trent is the one who found these wonderful relics. I had nothing to do with it.”
“But you’re with Trent, aren’t you?” Nelson gave Lucas a speculative glance. “Someone said that you had recently registered with a marriage agency. I assumed that Miss Lark was a date.”
“She is,” Lucas said.
“But this is just an initial, get-acquainted date,” Amaryllis interjected hastily. “Lucas and I hardly know each other.” She gave Lucas a meaningful look. “Isn’t that right?”
Her determination not to be photographed standing next to him exacerbated Lucas’s simmering irritation. She was happy to gush over Madison Sheffield and Nelson Burlton, he thought, but she didn’t want to appear in the newspapers with the man who had brought her to the party.
He gave her a deliberate smile. “I’m sure we’ll be much better acquainted before the evening is over. After all, our agency claims to hit a perfect match on the first date ninety-four point six percent of the time. That’s one of the reasons I registered with them.”
Nelson uttered his famous, well-modulated chuckle. “After covering Trent all these years, I can assure you that he doesn’t believe in wasting time. The Iceman is a man of action, Miss Lark.”
Amaryllis turned a vivid shade of pink. She did not exactly breathe fire, but Lucas was almost positive he could see the flames in her spectacular green eyes. For some reason, her glare did wonders for his mood.
“So the rumors are true, Mr. Trent?” Elaine asked. “You are registered?”
“It’s time,” Lucas said. “I’m not getting any younger.”
Nelson nodded. “I know what you mean. I’ll be registering myself one of these days. Will you be staying here in New Seattle after you get married, or will you return to the Western Islands?”
“I intend to run my business from the city.” Lucas watched Amaryllis. “It’s time for Lodestar Exploration to diversify and expand its scope beyond the search for jelly-ice. I’ll need to be here at company headquarters to oversee that change in direction.”
“Sounds like new horizons for Lodestar.” Nelson gave Lucas a speculative look. “Any chance that one of those new ventures might be a shot at politics? Your name has come up as a possible candidate for city-state senator. Any interest?”
“None whatsoever,” Lucas said. “If you want to talk politics, I suggest you corner Sheffield.”
“I spoke to him earlier.” Nelson winked. “He’s on an agency date, too. I have a hunch he’ll be announcing his engagement soon.”
“Not much of a surprise there,” Elaine muttered as she made an adjustment on her camera. “Everyone knows that the voters will never go for an unmarried governor. Especially not one who’s so big on founders’ values.” She gave Amaryllis a determined smile. “Now then, Miss Lark, if you’ll just step a little closer to Mr. Trent, I’ll get this shot, and then Nelson and I will stop pestering you.”
Amaryllis made one last bid to avoid the inevitable. “I really don’t think—”
“Don’t be shy, Amaryllis.” Lucas reached out to catch hold of her before she realized his intention. He felt her flinch in surprise as he carefully wrapped his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. He smiled at her as he drew her gently but inexorably to his side. “As I said, we’re going to be intimately acquainted before this evening is finished.”
Amaryllis opened her mouth with the obvious intent of making a scathing retort, but before she could say anything the camera flash went off. She blinked several times and closed her mouth.
“Got it.” Elaine lowered the camera and gave her victims a breezy smile. “Thanks. And best of luck to you both.”
Nelson nodded. “Appreciate the info on Lodestar’s new direction, Mr. Trent. Okay if I give your office a call later this week to get some details?”
“Sure,” Lucas said. “My secretary will put you in touch with the right people.” He kept his grip on Amaryllis as Nelson and Elaine plunged back into the crowd in search of new victims.
“That was unnecessary,” Amaryllis hissed.
“It was unavoidable. We agreed on the cover story for this evening. The press was bound to want photos.”
“A shot of you would have been fine. There was no need to let that photographer take a picture of us together. It’ll probably be in the paper tomorrow.”
“Probably. And there will undoubtedly be several more photos taken before the evening is finished.” Lucas glanced down at her. “What of it?”
Amaryllis sighed. “My aunt may see one of them.”
“So?”
“You don’t know my aunt.” Amaryllis’s mouth tightened. “Never mind. Let’s get on with our business, shall we? Where are Miss Locking and Mr. Beech?”
Lucas surveyed the crowd and spotted Miranda on the other side of the room. She was not alone. Beech was next to her, his head bent attentively. They were obviously involved in an intense conversation.
“They’re over there, near the large display case at the far end of the hall. They’re alone together, and Beech looks serious. Something’s going on right now. Ready?”
Amaryllis glanced at him in surprise. “You’re strong enough to detect a talent from here?”
“I can handle this room.” Lucas tightened his hold on her wrist.
“But where is Beech’s prism?” Amaryllis tried to peer over the heads of the crowd. “I don’t see anyone close to him except Miss Locking.”
“Who knows? It could be any one of the people within a radius of ten feet of where Beech is standing.” Lucas was impatient to get into the link. “That waiter with the champagne tray, for example. He’s close enough to link.”
Amaryllis looked doubtful. “Beech would have to be awfully strong to impose a hypnotic suggestion using a prism who’s standing that far away. Something tells me this isn’t going to be very useful, Lucas.”
“That’s my problem, not yours.”
“Remember that when it comes time to pay the bill.”
“I will.” Lucas hesitated, feeling unexpectedly awkward now that the moment was at hand. “Look, I haven’t had a whole lot of experience with this kind of thing. There aren’t a lot of trained prisms out in the islands. I’ll probably be clumsy by your standards.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said softly. “I’ve worked with a lot of amateurs.”
Lucas gritted his teeth. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Forget it.” He could feel the heat in his face, but he forced himself to ignore his own embarrassment. There was no way to explain to Amaryllis just why he had so little finesse. It wasn’t easy focusing a portion of his talent through a prism while he simultaneously exerted a tremendous effort to conceal the full extent of his abilities from the person who held the focus.
Slowly, carefully, Lucas eased into the link. He braced himself for the short moment of disorientation that always preceded the connection. He opened his mind cautiously, a little at a time, groping for the focus.
And suddenly it was there on the psychic plane, a glittering crystal prism. Strong and clear and ready for him. It bore almost no resemblance at all to the weak, cloudy prisms he had used in the past.
It was beautiful. Incredibly, indescribably beautiful. It was perfect.
Before he could fully admire the prism, he almost staggered beneath a wholly unexpected wave of deep sexual desire. He wanted Amaryllis. He needed her as he had never needed anything before in his life. He was shatteringly aware of her in a psychic sens
e. It seemed to Lucas that he was drowning in the very essence of Amaryllis’s femininity.
Something was very, very wrong.
He was getting an erection. Shocked, Lucas released the link as though it were made of fire. Out on the psychic plane, the wonderful prism winked out of existence.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. True, he had only used prisms in a limited manner in the past, but he had read a lot about the phenomenon. He knew that his previous experiences were typical, even if he had been clumsy and even if he had only worked with weaker prisms.
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 rest-room.”
“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
4
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 totally 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.
