The old rage welled up out of the dark pit inside Benson.
“How does that bitch come into this?”
“I do not believe that she currently has the relic in her possession, because if that were true, the Cadence Guild would have forced her to return it. But it appears that she knows where it is.”
Should have killed her when I had the chance. Four months ago he had realized that Celinda had somehow sensed the deep well of darkness that was the source of his power; sensed it and feared it. For years he had been able to conceal the churning black pit from the rest of the world, but when she had refused to take him on as a client, he had known that she was aware of his secret. There was no other explanation for her actions. He was a member of the Guild Council, after all, the most powerful ghost hunter in town. No one turned him down.
But getting rid of her permanently four months ago would have been too risky, he reminded himself. The murder of the most exclusive matchmaker in Frequency would have launched a high-profile investigation. The police would have demanded Guild cooperation, and that old fool Harold Taylor would not have protected him.
“Let’s say I agree to recover the second relic for you,” he said. “Why would I give it to you? If it has some valuable properties, as you claim, I’d want to keep it for myself.”
“You are, of course, free to do so,” Kennington said in that same smooth, annoyingly urbane tone. “But it won’t do you any good. Even assuming you understood its unique properties, you would not be able to rez it.”
“Why not?”
“It requires a special type of psi talent: my kind. But in exchange for the recovery of the artifact, I will agree to employ the device on your behalf.”
“You really think you can use it to make sure I become the next boss of the Frequency Guild?”
“And everything else you want, Mr. Landry.” Kennington was practically purring. “Everything else. I trust that you will think of this arrangement as a mutually beneficial one. In your position as a man of increasing power and influence, you can help me in many ways. I, in turn, will use the device to take you as high as you wish to go. Do we have an agreement?”
“First I’ll need to see what the relic can do.”
“Of course. I suggest we perform the demonstration immediately. You may choose the venue. There is just one stipulation.”
“What’s that?”
“Like ghost light, the power of the relic is quite weak unless it is accessed underground or close to a source of alien psi.”
“My office is in the Old Quarter,” he said. He was getting jacked up. His instincts told him he was onto something important. “It sits directly over a hole-in-the wall.”
“That should do it. Also, for purposes of this demonstration, we will need an experimental subject.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter to me. One of your men, perhaps, or a member of your household staff.”
“Hang on.” Benson rezzed the bedside security intercom.
The guard at the gate answered immediately.
“Yes, Mr. Landry?”
“Has the woman left yet?”
“Miss Stowe? She’s here now. One of the men is getting ready to drive her home.”
“Bring her back to the house. I’m not quite finished with her after all.”
Chapter 18
“GOT NEWS FOR YOU, I AM TAKING IT PERSONALLY.” Davis gazed up at the ceiling. He was screwed. It had been too much to hope that she wouldn’t wake up when he carried her into the other room, too much to hope that she might not have a problem with the fact that he wanted to sleep alone.
He didn’t want to sleep alone. He wanted to spend the rest of the night with her curled tightly against him. He wanted to wake up in the morning and find her in his arms.
But he didn’t dare take that risk.
It was a long time before he fell asleep. When he did, he dreamed.
He held the child tightly in his arms. The kidnappers were not far behind. They were still invisible in the maze of catacombs, but it wouldn’t be long now before they closed in. They were homing in on the frequency of the amber he wore in his watch.
He had just ditched the watch in a nearby tunnel. He had backup amber set at a different frequency, but he could not risk using it yet. It would not take the men who were following them long to pick up the second signal and realize that he had switched amber.
There was only one chance left.
“Close your eyes and don’t move, Mary Beth. I promise you that if we both stay absolutely still for the next few minutes, the bad men won’t even see us.”
“Okay,” Mary Beth whispered.
She clung to him, one arm wrapped around his neck, and regarded him with the solemn trust that only a six-year-old child could give. It was a miracle that she had any confidence in him at all after what she’d been through. She had never met him before in her life. But forty-five minutes ago he had rescued her from the kidnappers, and she had believed him when he told her that he had come to take her home.
The sounds of the approaching men were closer now. They were using a sled. There was no way a man carrying a six-year-old kid could outrun one.
Not much longer, he thought. Maybe thirty seconds. He had to get the timing right, or he and Mary Beth would never make it out of this chamber.
Mary Beth closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, a child trying to hide from the monsters under the bed.
The sled was very close now. He could hear the sound of the simple amber-drive motor. Only the most primitive kinds of engines worked underground.
“He’s close,” one of the men said, excited. “We’ve got him. Can’t be more than a hundred feet away.”
“Move it,” another man said. “If he gets out of here with the girl, we’re all dead.”
“Stay very, very still, Mary Beth,” he whispered. She froze in his arms.
He pulled silver light. A lot of it.
The sled hummed loudly. It rolled out of one of the ten vaulted entrances of the underground chamber. And then the driver brought the damn thing to a halt, right in the middle of the room.
“Check the frequency,” the driver snapped.
He held his breath and his focus, counting the seconds.
One minute.
The second man on the sled studied the amber-rez locator. “Straight ahead.”
Two minutes.
“You sure?” the driver demanded, looking at the nine other doorways.
“Positive. I’m telling you, I’ve got a solid reading.”
“I don’t like this,” the third man said uneasily. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Three minutes. The men continued to argue. Mary Beth did not stir, although he could feel her little body shivering with fear.
Four minutes.
“All right, let’s go,” the driver said, making the executive decision.
The bastard finally rezzed the sled’s engine. The little vehicle shot across the chamber. It made straight for the vaulted doorway, zeroing in on the frequency of the amber watch that lay on the quartz floor just inside.
The sled passed within a yard of where he stood with Mary Beth pressed tightly against his chest.
Five minutes. An eternity.
“Ghost-shit,” the driver howled. “That’s his damned watch. He tricked us.”
But it was too late. The driver couldn’t stop the sled in time. It plowed straight through the faint shadows cloaking the vaulted entrance of the tunnel, triggering the alien illusion trap.
The men screamed when they were plunged into the trap’s psychically generated alien nightmares, but not for long. No human could stay conscious for more than a few seconds under those conditions. Mary Beth jerked at the sounds.
He stopped working silver light. He was breathing hard and already starting to shake. He didn’t need to test his amber to know that he had melted it. Luckily he now had a fresh supply.
“It’s okay, Mary Beth,” he said. “The bad men can’t hurt you now.”