Obsidian Prey gh-7

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Obsidian Prey gh-7 Page 22

by Jayne Castle


  "Shortly after I began to comprehend your true potential, I wanted to know more about you. The only person you are close to is Miss Halifax. She was the obvious one to interrogate. She remembers nothing of the session, of course. I made certain of that."

  "You really are a lowlife."

  "The news that you had concealed three pyramids of amethyst came out quite accidentally, I assure you. But once I had it, I knew for certain that you were the right woman."

  A creepy sensation trickled through her. "What, exactly do you know about the pyramids? Why are you so interested in them?"

  "The three you discovered are not the first amethyst pyramids to be found. My grandmother also discovered one. She, too, had a great affinity for amethyst. She understood that there was enormous power in the stone."

  "What happened to her pyramid?"

  "In the end she destroyed it." Quinn's voice flashed with rage again. "She was a weak woman. She wrote in her journal that she considered the stone extremely dangerous. She was convinced that once it was tuned to a specific individual, it could be used to generate and focus enormous power, regardless of whether he or she could work amethyst."

  "I get it. You think you can work the pyramid stones, but you can't do that unless they are tuned to your frequencies."

  "My grandmother refused to tune the pyramid for me because she concluded that I was psychically unstable."

  "Gee. Wonder how she got that impression."

  Quinn drew a deep breath and visibly steadied himself. Once more he slipped into his serene, guru voice.

  "When I found out that she had rendered the stone powerless, I had no choice, of course," he said. "I had to kill her."

  "You murdered your own grandmother?"

  "What else could I do? She deliberately tried to keep me from fulfilling my destiny. She was even planning to notify the authorities of the Arcane Society that I was unstable. They would have tried to smother my talent with drugs. If that hadn't worked, they would have made certain that I disappeared. I could not allow those fools to interfere with my destiny."

  "And just what is this high-rez power you think you're going to get?"

  "My grandmother believed that whoever could master just one of the pyramid stones would gain the ancient powers of the aliens."

  "Hmm."

  "Think what that means." Quinn flattened one of his palms against a glowing tunnel wall. "I will have the powers of those who built these catacombs and the underground rain forest. Who knows what I will be able to achieve once I have that level of talent?"

  "Not to rain on your parade, Quinn, but the aliens are gone. They couldn't make it here on Harmony. Maybe their powers weren't so great, after all."

  "You have no imagination. I have searched for more pyramid stones for years, and at last I have found them."

  "You know, I think your grandmother was wrong about those pyramids—"

  "Silence."

  "This is so typical of the Dore luck. I join a meditation class to reduce my stress levels, and what do I get? A mad guru."

  "Enough. I will not allow you to provoke me. You would do well to remember that you will remain alive only so long as you serve me."

  "Serve you?"

  "Well, I had planned to offer you marriage," he conceded. "But when Sweetwater returned, you rushed straight back into his arms, in spite of how he had betrayed you. It was obvious that you are incapable of appreciating what I could give you. So, yes, instead of sharing my power, you will serve me."

  "What made you think there might be more pyramid stones?"

  "My grandmother was convinced that there were others. She did not believe that the one she found was the only stone of its kind. But I knew that only another amethyst worker was likely to find others. Do you realize how rare your talent is?"

  "I've heard that a lot lately," Lyra said.

  "For the past six weeks I have tried to drive you closer to me. To woo you. Twice a week I sent you the most exquisite amethyst orchids."

  "So you're the one. Well, that figures. I finally get a secret admirer, and he's a nutcase. And here I was blaming the plumber. Tell me something. If you wanted me to like you, why did you try to scare the crap out of me with those damned hallucinations?"

  "I wanted you to turn to me for help. I wanted to show you that I and I alone could save you from the nightmares. But you kept resisting. For a time I saw it as a tribute to your spirit. I even admired your strength of will. I enjoyed proving that I was your master. But then Cruz Sweetwater came back into your life. I tried to remove him."

  "You were the one who hired those thugs to try to kill him," Lyra said. "You tried to take him out not once but twice. The second time you were there, on the other balcony, generating one of your stupid dreamscapes. But that didn't work either, did it? You're a real, all-around screwup, aren't you, Quinn?"

  Quinn's normally serene features twisted into a demonic mask. "And you're a real bitch."

  "Does this mean that the ultimate harmonic relationship is off?"

  "Turn left."

  "Sure."

  She rounded another corner and saw the vaulted entrance of a small antechamber. Nancy stood there, scared, her arms tightly wrapped around her waist, but under control. Quinn had not bothered to tie her up. He had taken her amber. That was more than enough to confine anyone underground.

  "Lyra." Relief and panic mingled on Nancy's face. Her eyes glittered with tears. "I'm so sorry."

  "This is my fault, not yours." Lyra rushed toward her, hugging her fiercely. "It's going to be okay. I promise you."

  "Enough," Quinn said. He looked at Lyra. "You have seen her. She is alive, and she will stay in that condition if you do exactly as I say. Take me to the three stones."

  Lyra released Nancy, stepped back, and kicked off her heels. "It's a long hike from here. I'm not going to last much longer in these shoes."

  "Hurry," Quinn hissed.

  Lyra looked back at Nancy. "Stay right where you are, okay? It will be all right, I promise you."

  "Trust me, I'm not going anywhere without amber," Nancy vowed.

  "Move," Quinn ordered. He backed up the command with another disorienting wave of energy.

  "You know, if you don't stop doing that," Lyra said, "I'm going to throw up on your fancy robes."

  Quinn blinked, startled. He took a hasty step back, scowling. "Let's go."

  "I'll need a locator," she said to Quinn.

  "Give me the frequency coordinates. I'll enter them in my locator."

  She rattled them off quickly and waited while he punched in the numbers.

  "Now," Quinn said. A feverish excitement glittered in his eyes. "Take me to the stones."

  "Yeah, sure, whatever," Lyra said.

  Chapter 34

  CRUZ LOOKED AT THE TELEPHONE RECORDS THAT JEFF had just tossed down in front of him. Vincent dropped the red crayon he had been playing with and drifted across the desk to see what was going on.

  "How did you end up with Vincent?" Jeff asked.

  "He's keeping me company while Lyra helps Nancy set up for an art auction tonight. They were afraid he would get into the hors d'oeuvres." Cruz studied the records. "What did you find?"

  "Those are Valentine Fairstead's calls for the past three years." Jeff dropped into a chair. "I circled the ones he made to Flagg and Webber and those that he received from them. They tend to occur in clusters."

  "Probably corresponding with the times when they were setting up thefts and sales of the artifacts out of the vault."

  "That's what it looks like." Jeff leaned forward. "In which case we're looking at twenty-eight different thefts during the past three years. Fairstead also made some calls to various high-end clients at those times, letting them know that he had something special, probably. I tracked down the names and wrote them in the margin. For the most part they're the usual suspects."

  Cruz moved his finger down the list of calls. "Here's the one he made to Wilson Revere last week."

  "There
are other familiar names there, as well. Like I said, most are collectors who have been known to dip into the underground antiquities market."

  "Something I'm having trouble with here," Cruz said.

  "What?"

  "The street muscle that we've been assuming Flagg hired to whack me."

  Jeff's brows shot up. "I thought it was more than an assumption."

  "He denied it when I asked him about it."

  "Well, sure. He's not going to admit he tried twice to have you killed."

  "Everything else about this scam was well-managed for over three years. But hiring those four thugs was sloppy and unsophisticated."

  "I don't know about that. If it had worked, you'd have been dead, and the antiquities scam would still be humming along."

  "It just doesn't feel like Flagg."

  "Maybe Webber hired the guys who tried to take you out."

  "Maybe. But regardless, there's another question. Whoever used amber to generate those hallucinations that forced me to shatter obsidian was there that night. What's more, he's been stalking Lyra for about six weeks. Flagg told me that Webber was furious with her because she refused to cooperate with the amethyst experiments, but I just can't see Webber as a stalker."

  "You'd be surprised by the profiles of the men that turn into stalkers."

  "Whoever this guy is, I think he may also have been sending twice-weekly deliveries of purple orchids to Lyra."

  "Okay, you've got me there. That definitely doesn't sound like Dr. Felix Webber."

  Cruz sat forward and folded his arms on the desk. "In which case, we're looking for a fourth man, someone who had nothing to do with the antiquities scam."

  "Someone who can generate hallucinations?"

  "Yes." A familiar frisson of icy awareness shot through Cruz. "Lyra."

  "What about her?" Jeff asked.

  "Something's wrong." He reached for the phone and punched in Lyra's number. There was no answer. He was trying the number for the Halifax Gallery when Jeff suddenly looked at Vincent.

  "Hey, what's up with the bunny?" Jeff asked.

  Vincent had sleeked into full predator mode. All four eyes were open. He leaped to the floor and dashed toward the door.

  "Vincent," Cruz said.

  To his amazement, Vincent paused, looking back. His small body was vibrating with urgency.

  "Wait for us," Cruz said.

  Chapter 35

  LYRA WALKED INTO THE CHAMBER AHEAD OF QUINN. The three pyramids of amethyst amber glowed gently on the card table where she had left them.

  Quinn stopped short in the entrance. Wonder, awe, and an unhealthy excitement battled for control of his features.

  "It's true," he whispered. "You really did find the pyramid stones. And they are stones of rare power, just like the one my grandmother discovered. I can sense the energy in them."

  Lyra stopped near one of the pyramids and rested a hand casually on the surface. The stone glowed a little brighter at her touch.

  "Now what?" she asked softly.

  "Now you will tune all three of the pyramids to my wavelengths so that I can access their power." Quinn walked to the card table and touched one of the pyramids with reverent fingers. "I will be the master of the stones."

  "I should tell you that I agree with your grandmother. These stones are dangerous."

  Rage flared again in Quinn's face. "Tune the stones, or you will die in this chamber."

  "You know, I usually get paid extra for my special tuning services."

  "Shut up and tune the stones."

  Quinn was practically spitting with fury. The temperature inside the tunnels was always comfortable, but there was a greasy sheen of perspiration on his shaved skull.

  "Okay, okay, take it easy," Lyra said. "I'll tune your amber for you. Just so you know, there won't be any refund if you're not satisfied with the service. Place the pyramids so that they are all touching. They must be in physical contact with each other."

  She was winging it now, but Quinn did not appear to notice. He arranged the stones as she had instructed.

  "Now what?" he demanded eagerly.

  "Put your hands on the stones and concentrate, just as you do when you use your talent."

  Again, he obeyed, splaying his fingertips on the sides of the pyramids.

  She touched one of the stones with a forefinger. Energy pulsed.

  "Focus," she commanded softly.

  Currents shifted subtly in the pyramids as though some long-dormant power had been disturbed. The stones brightened. She identified Quinn's patterns almost immediately. Crazy, all right. A moment later she had the wavelengths that pulsed in the heart of each stone.

  The latent power she sensed in the pyramids chilled her to the core. Energy shifted, writhed, and uncoiled. Whatever was happening was not meant for the human mind.

  "Concentrate harder," she whispered. "Give it everything you have."

  "Yes." Quinn was nothing short of enraptured now. He stared into the glowing pyramids. "I can see things, amazing things. It's music. Who ever thought you could literally see music? Energy is pouring through me, making me stronger. This is incredible."

  She tweaked the patterns a little more so that the energy in the stones began to pulse in the same pattern as Quinn's natural psi currents. But the currents in the pyramids were far more powerful than his. They seethed and coiled and burned, seeking a channel.

  "Now I can see colors in the music," Quinn whispered. "No, I can feel the colors. There are no names for the shades of purple and green and blue I am able to see. The music is everywhere. Can't you hear it?"

  "No," she said. "Only you can hear it and see it and sense it, because I have tuned the stones to your personal wavelengths. The power of the pyramids is yours and yours alone, now."

  "Mine to control," he gasped, ecstatic.

  "If you can," she added very quietly.

  Quinn did not hear her. He was enthralled, his face awash in waves of wildly fluctuating purple light.

  "Enough," he said finally. He sounded suddenly exhausted. "This is too much to absorb in one session. It is clear that I must do this in stages."

  She took her fingertip off the stone and stepped back. But the pyramids continued to glow hotter. The entire chamber was pulsing with amethyst light.

  "Stop it," Quinn ordered.

  But there was no stopping what she had unleashed. She could no longer bear to look directly at the pyramids. The purple fires were too intense. Every instinct she possessed urged her to run. She whirled, turning toward the door.

  Cruz, Vincent, Jeff, and Nancy arrived in the opening at that moment. Cruz and Vincent rushed toward her. She reached down and scooped up the sleeked-out dust bunny.

  "Let's get out of here," she said. "I think the curtain is about to come down on this performance."

  Cruz caught her hand.

  "Go," he said to Jeff.

  "What's happening?" Quinn shouted. "I can't release the stones. I'm trapped in the currents. Make them stop. Make them stop."

  Jeff seized Nancy's wrist.

  They ran down the quartz corridor. Cruz halted them in front of a vaulted entrance.

  "Inside," he said.

  They ducked into the antechamber.

  The explosion, when it came, was accompanied by an unearthly scream. The shriek of horror seemed to go on forever before it was cut off.

  And then there was only the eternal silence of the catacombs.

  Chapter 36

  "WE GOT TO THE GALLERY JUST AS NANCY WAS COMING up the stairs from the hole-in-the-wall below her basement," Cruz said. "She filled us in on what had happened."

  "I went back to the surface to get help," Nancy explained. "The amber in the heels of your shoes was good enough to help me make my way back here, Lyra, but I knew I'd need a locator and some manly assistance to find you and deal with Quinn."

  "The amber in my shoes is not my best," Lyra said. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven. The auction was due to start in an ho
ur. "It's strictly for emergencies."

  Jeff looked at her. "You keep tuned amber in the heels of your shoes?"

  "Every last pair I own," she said. "I'm a tuner and an indie prospector. Trust me when I tell you that the combination has made me downright obsessive about amber."

  They were in the main sales room of the Halifax Gallery. She and Nancy were rushing through the last-minute preparations for the auction, setting out the hors d'oeuvres and napkins. Vincent was on the counter eating some of the cookies that had been intended for the attendees.

  Cruz and Jeff lounged against the counter on either side of Vincent. They had recovered Quinn's body and hauled it back to the surface, where they had quietly summoned the forces of Amber Inc. Security to make things go away. Quinn's death would be attributed to a stroke, according to Cruz. Lyra did not doubt him.

  "It all started with that damn amethyst ruin," she grumbled. She arranged neat rows of champagne flutes on the buffet table. "I swear, everything went wrong after I found it. The Dore luck struck again."

  There was a stark silence behind her. She turned and realized they were all looking at her.

  "What?" she asked.

  Cruz cleared his throat. "Well, you and I met because of the ruin, and I like to think that wasn't all bad luck."

  She glowered. "You know what I mean. If I hadn't discovered that ruin, I would never have ended up in Quinn's Harmonic Meditation class. He wouldn't have started stalking me and sending those purple orchids."

  Nancy fanned out some napkins. "You have to admit, the flowers were beautiful. Very pricey, those amethyst orchids."

  Lyra shuddered. "I never want to see another purple orchid as long as I live."

  "The problem was that we had two things happening at the same time," Cruz said. "The theft of the artifact and Quinn trying to make Lyra think she was going mad so that she would turn to him as her savior."

  "But she never went that route," Nancy said. "She was too strong-willed. I'm the one with the weak mind. I can't believe that bastard put me into a trance and questioned me about the artifacts without me even knowing it. I still can't remember the incident."

 

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