Silver Master

by Jayne Castle

  “As I said,” he continued, striving for patience, “the dream state provides a very creative environment, but there is a downside.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There is a reason why, in the waking state, our normal and paranormal senses are distinct and separate, so much so that many people unknowingly suppress their psychic side altogether.” He hurried now. It was obvious that Landry was losing patience. “That is because the dream state is extremely hazardous from a pragmatic point of view.”

  “Got it.” Landry snapped his fingers. “If we went around in a dream state all the time, we wouldn’t know if the car coming at us in the intersection was real or just a dream construct.”

  “Exactly.”

  Landry was smarter than he appeared, Titus thought. It would be a good idea to keep that in mind.

  Landry surveyed the blonde. “All right, you’ve got her in a waking dream state. Now what?”

  “As I said, in this condition she is not able to distinguish between dream and reality. With the aid of this relic I can ensure that when I bring her out of the trance she will believe that everything that has happened during the past few minutes was nothing but a dream.”

  “You mean she won’t remember our conversation?”

  “No more than she would any other dream.” Titus spread his hands wide. “And what she does recall she will dismiss as only a dream.”

  “This is getting interesting,” Landry said. “But I’m not sure I’ve got a lot of use for that device.”

  Titus cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should mention another application.”

  “What’s that?”

  “In the dream state many of her natural defenses are down.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that if you ask her a question, she will give you a completely honest answer. This is all a dream to her. In the dream state one does not lie. Go ahead, ask her something you think she would likely conceal if she were awake.”

  Landry laughed harshly. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-six,” Miss Stowe said. She spoke in a monotone.

  Landry frowned. “She told me she was twenty-eight. She sure as hell looks twenty-eight. Must have had some work done.”

  “Why don’t you try something a little more complicated?” Titus suggested dryly.

  “She was Senator Rathmorten’s mistress for a while,” Landry said. “I wonder if she knows what really happened to his wife. There were rumors that he killed her, but they evaporated quickly. There was no proof, and he was a senator, so he would have been able to quash the investigation.”

  “Why don’t you ask Miss Stowe what she knows?”

  Landry looked at her. “Do you know how Elizabeth Rathmorten died?”

  “Rath murdered her,” Miss Stowe said.

  “Shit,” Landry whispered, fascinated. “How do you know that?”

  “I was there that night,” Miss Stowe replied in the same uninflected voice. “His wife had gone out earlier. The senator and I had sex in his office. I left the mansion but returned a few minutes later through the side entrance because I had forgotten my earrings. When I got back upstairs to his office, I heard his wife’s voice. She had come home sooner than expected. There was an argument. I was afraid they would hear me, so I hid in a hall closet.”

  Landry glanced back over his shoulder at Titus. “This is fucking amazing.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Titus murmured. Holding the focus with the ruby amber for this long a period of time was exhausting, but he dared not show any weakness to Landry.

  Miss Stowe continued speaking. “I heard sounds of a struggle. And then there was nothing but silence. When Rath came out of his office he was carrying his wife in his arms. I could see that her head was covered in blood. He took her out of the house and drove off with her.”

  Miss Stowe stopped.

  “They found Elizabeth Rathmorten’s body in the alley behind an apartment building,” Landry said to Titus. “It looked like she had jumped. Shit, with information like this, I’ll have Rathmorten in the palm of my hand.”

  “Have you seen enough?” Titus asked.

  “Yeah, sure, let’s get out of here.”

  “One more thing.” Titus focused on Miss Stowe. “You have had an unpleasant dream, but that is all it is, a dream. You do not want to remember it because every time you try, you will get a pounding headache. You are not feeling well. You want to go straight home and go to sleep.”

  He stopped pulsing psi through the relic. Miss Stowe blinked several times, looking confused. Then she collected herself and turned to Landry.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her hand on her stomach, “but I’m feeling a little ill. I think I should go home.”

  “Sure,” Landry said. “I’ll drive you back to your apartment myself.”

  BENSON WATCHED KENNINGTON USE THE RELIC ONE LAST time just before the woman got out of the car, ensuring that the events of the past hour would be nothing but a dream to her.

  He sat behind the wheel of the big Oscillator 600 and waited until she disappeared through the door of her apartment building. Then he looked in the rearview mirror.

  Titus Kennington, sitting in the backseat, looked a little weary but smugly satisfied.

  The son of a bitch thinks he’s playing me.

  “I’m impressed,” Benson said. “You’ve got a deal.”

  “Excellent.” Kennington smiled his patronizing smile. “I’m delighted to hear that, Mr. Landry. It will prove profitable for both of us.”

  Once he got his hands on the other relic, Benson thought, he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn it over to Titus Kennington. Instead, he would get rid of the doctor and take possession of both relics.

  Whatever Kennington’s form of psi talent was, it was a safe bet that it was not unique. There would be others who could control the relic, others who, in turn, he could control. With the resources of the Guild behind him, he could find the talent he required to take advantage of the ruby relics.

  “I suggest we discuss the problem of Miss Ingram and her new bodyguard,” Kennington said.

  Chapter 20

  CELINDA WIPED THE STEAM OFF THE BATHROOM MIRROR with a washcloth and surveyed her image. She didn’t look any different, she decided. Okay, maybe she was a little flushed, but that could be attributed to the recent shower. Surely no one in her family would guess this morning that she’d spent a goodly portion of the night engaged in hot sex with her bodyguard.

  She looked at Araminta, who was perched on the counter, grooming herself.

  “This is the bride’s day,” Celinda said. “Everyone will be focused on Rachel. I’m just the maid of honor. No one will give me a second glance.”

  Araminta stopped fussing with her gray fur and batted her blue eyes.

  “Well, it’s not as if you spent the night entirely alone, either, missy.”

  She scooped up Araminta and went back into the main room to finish dressing. The door to Davis’s room was still partially ajar. She could hear the shower running. She stood still for a moment, remembering the night with mixed emotions.

  I like to sleep alone. Don’t take it personally.

  How else could a woman take that kind of comment? she wondered.

  She dressed in the black trousers and the dark green top with the three-quarter-length sleeves that she had brought along to wear to breakfast. She heard Davis’s shower go off while she was putting on her lipstick.

  A knock sounded on the door of her room.

  “That’ll be room service with the eggs and toast I ordered for Araminta and Max,” she called through the connecting door. “I’ll get it.”

  She crossed the room, Araminta on her shoulder, and opened the door.

  Waves of dark, twisted psi energy slammed across her senses, making her recoil backward so quickly that she stumbled and almost fell.

  Benson Landry, dressed in traditional ghost-hunter khaki and leather, a knife on his hip, lounged in the opening.
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  “Hello, Celinda,” he said, giving her his trademark hunter’s smile, the one he thought was so incredibly sexy. “Heard you were in town for a family wedding. Thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing. Been a while.”

  She heard a soft rumble in her ear. Araminta was growling. Only her daylight eyes were showing, however. She had not gone into full predatory mode, but she was clearly on the edge.

  “What do you want?” Celinda asked, astonished that she was able to keep her tone even. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and adrenaline was snapping through her.

  “I told you,” Landry said, reptilian eyes gleaming. “Just wanted to see how you were getting on.”

  “You’re here for some reason. What is it?”

  “Why don’t you invite me in, and we’ll talk?”

  “We have nothing to say to each other. I kept my part of the bargain. Leave me alone.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m in a mood to change the terms of our deal.” He raised his brows at the sight of Araminta on her shoulder. “What is that thing? Looks like something a cat coughed up.” He chuckled.

  Davis materialized beside Celinda. He had put on a pair of trousers, but he was still nude from the waist up. Max was perched on his shoulder.

  “Get out of here, Landry,” he said, his voice gravedigger soft.

  Landry narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Davis Oakes. You might want to write that down. We’ll be meeting again one of these days. But this isn’t a good time. Got a wedding to attend.”

  The rising tide of male hormones was palpable. Celinda’s anxiety level went up several more notches. The last thing they needed was a bad scene with a powerful member of the local Guild.

  “Davis is a friend of mine,” she said quickly. “We’re just here for my sister’s wedding. We’re going back to Cadence tonight.”

  “Looks like a real close friend, all right,” Landry said, amused. “He know about us, honey?”

  “I know all about you and Celinda,” Davis assured him in that same frighteningly soft tone. “Don’t worry; one of these days I’ll get back to you on that. But like I said, this isn’t the time or place.”

  Landry was momentarily nonplussed. Celinda knew that he was not accustomed to defiance of any kind. It took him a few seconds to process Davis’s words.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he finally got out. “Are you threatening me, Oakes?”

  “No,” Davis said, “I don’t do threats. That was more like an IOU. I always make good on those.”

  Celinda could hardly breathe now. There was going to be a fight. She could see it coming like a freight train bearing down on her. There would be a dreadful scene. Hotel security would be summoned. Her family would be embarrassed. Rachel would be upset on her wedding day. There was no telling how the Santanas would react, but having one of the wedding guests engage in a fight with a leading member of the local Guild was not going to go down well, that was for sure. No one here in Frequency wanted to be on the wrong side of a Guild Council member.

  “Stop it,” she gasped. “Both of you. There’s no need for this.”

  Predictably, Landry paid no attention. “My information says you’re a cheap PI who was hired to keep an eye on Celinda because she’s got something that belongs to the Cadence Guild.”

  “Your information is wrong on one significant point,” Davis said.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “I’m not cheap.”

  Landry snorted. “Not a very good PI, either, by the looks of it. Not if you had to resort to screwing Celinda to get the location of the relic out of her. Boring work, isn’t it? One night was more than enough for me.”

  Something very dangerous appeared in Davis’s eyes. Lethal psi energy pulsed.

  Celinda slipped closer to outright panic. She had to distract both men.

  “You know about the relic?” she said to Landry.

  “Word travels fast in my circles.” He shrugged. “Imagine my surprise, though, when I heard you were the one who has it. Small world, huh?”

  “But I don’t know where it is,” she said. “That’s the truth. Believe me, if I had it, I’d turn it over to the Cadence Guild.”

  “Honey, you’re in Frequency now. That means you’ll turn it over to me.”

  “I just told you, I don’t have it,” she said.

  “You heard her,” Davis said.

  Landry narrowed his snake eyes. “Whoever hired you sure as hell thinks that she knows where it is. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Mercer Wyatt hired me,” Davis said. “And he’s going to be pissed if you get in my way.”

  “Screw Wyatt. He’s an old man. He may still be giving the orders in Cadence, but he doesn’t give them here. This is my town. That means I give the orders.”

  “I’ll have Wyatt confirm that with Harold Taylor,” Davis said. He took hold of Celinda’s elbow, pulled her back, and started to close the door. “Meanwhile, we’ve got a wedding to celebrate. Get lost, Landry.”

  Celinda sensed the change in the vibrations of the tangled spiderweb that was Benson Landry’s whacked-out psi energy pattern. She knew at once that somewhere in his mind a trip wire had just been triggered. A monstrous spider was crawling up from the abyss.

  “Watch out,” she said, edging back instinctively.

  But the danger came from behind. Acid green light flared in the room. She whirled around, shocked, and saw a nasty energy ghost coalesce. The core of the fiery ball was fierce and unstable, just like the man who had summoned it.

  “I’m going to teach you a lesson, Oakes,” Landry said. “You’re not going to a wedding today; you’re going to a hospital.”

  Frustration and rage flashed through Celinda. The urge to leap at Landry and go for his eyes with her fingernails was almost overwhelming. How dare he threaten the people she loved?

  The people she loved? She had just included Davis on that list.

  But there was no time to ponder the implications of that impulsive thought. The rumble in her ear was getting louder. There was another, echoing growl from Max.

  With a jolt Celinda realized that both dust bunnies were now at full alert. Their normally fluffy fur was sleeked flat against their small bodies, revealing all six legs and a lot of very sharp teeth. Even more disconcerting was the appearance of their second sets of eyes. The amber ones they used for hunting were wide open, glowing with a predatory light.

  It dawned on her that if they attacked Landry, there was no telling what he might do to retaliate. Max and Araminta could certainly inflict some painful wounds, but they were too small to do anything more than draw blood. That would only inflame Landry all the more.

  She clutched at Araminta.

  “No,” she whispered. “Please don’t.”

  “Hold on to her,” Davis said quietly. He took Max down from his shoulder and gripped him in one hand. “We don’t want them getting singed.”

  Celinda tucked Araminta safely into the crook of her arm. Araminta resisted, straining to get free.

  The green ghost was moving now, closing in on Davis as Landry used his psi energy to manipulate it.

  There was no question but that Landry was a powerful para-rez talent. Celinda knew that even a light brush with the flaring radiation at the outer edges of the ball of alien energy would be sufficient to knock a human being unconscious for hours. Sustained contact for more than a few seconds would leave a severe psychic burn.

  “This is what happens to cheap PIs who don’t know enough to back off when they should,” Landry said, vicious eyes alight with an unwholesome excitement. “Time you understood that I’m the boss here in Frequency.”

  A distraction was needed, Celinda thought. And the only one at hand was Araminta. She started to lower the dust bunny to the floor. Araminta was wriggling eagerly, anxious to be set free. Celinda was sure that she would head straight for Landry’s ankle.

  Davis studied the ghost as though it were a part
icularly bad piece of post–Era of Discord art. “You know, Landry, I really don’t have time for this today. I keep telling you, I’ve got a wedding to attend.”

  All Celinda saw was a faint silvery shimmer in the air. It was as if she were suddenly viewing Landry’s energy ghost through an antique mirror.

  The UDEM flared once more, wildly, and then winked out of existence.

  Hurriedly she tightened her grip on Araminta, securing her again.

  “Some other time,” Celinda whispered soothingly.

  She looked at where the ghost had been. There was no sign of it. She had witnessed Davis’s unusual talent the night before last when he had de-rezzed the twin ghosts. Nevertheless, she was a little awed by what he had just done. No one de-rezzed a Benson Landry ghost.

  Her reaction was nothing compared to Landry’s. It was clear from his expression that he was stunned. He was also furious.

  The dark spiderweb of psi emanating from him quivered dangerously, but the spider had paused. In that instant of crystalline tension she realized that the only thing preventing Landry from attacking Davis physically was fear. It was the one force strong enough to stop a true para-sociopath from doing whatever he pleased. Landry had enough control left to realize that he might not survive the outcome of a showdown.

  It was her brother, Walker, who shattered the unnatural silence. He came up behind Landry in the hall, anger blazing across his face.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded. “What are you doing in my sister’s room, Landry?”

  “He is not in my room,” Celinda said quietly. “If you will notice he is standing in the hall.”

  Landry swung around, features set in savage, frustrated fury. Without a word he strode swiftly away, heading for the elevators.

  Walker looked from Celinda to Davis and back again. “What was that bastard doing here?”

  Celinda pulled herself together. “Nothing. He heard I was in town, that’s all. Came by to say hello.”

  “The hell he did,” Davis interrupted mildly. “He came here to threaten your sister.”

  “Davis.” Celinda glared, appalled. “Please shut up. This is none of your business.”