Even a full-spectrum prism should have burned out quickly in the face of the ceaseless waves of raw, high-class matrix-talent that Zinnia had handled last night. Psychic burnout was nature's way of protecting prisms from being overpowered and controlled by a talent whose energy level was higher than the prism's. The burnout was a temporary condition. Unpleasant, but not permanent.
But Zinnia had not burned out. She was every bit as strong as he was. Nick smiled at the thought.
Her lashes fluttered. For a few seconds she seemed disoriented. Then her eyes cleared. "You're awake."
"And reasonably sane, thanks to you."
She pushed herself up to a sitting position. "My God, you scared the living daylights out of me."
"Believe me, you couldn't have been half as scared as I was." He reached up to run a hand through her tangled hair. "I have never been so glad to see anyone as I am to see you right now."
"Do you feel all right?"
"Never better." He smiled. "Which is pretty amazing, considering the fact that I spent the night in the company of a genuine psychic vampire."
She halted half on and half off the bed. Her eyes widened. "Are you calling me a psychic vampire?"
"I'm calling you mine, Zinnia Spring." He pulled her back down on top of him and kissed her deeply.
When he released her, she smiled at him. But there was a wistful sadness in her eyes that worried him almost as much as the winds of chaos had.
"Zinnia?"
"Don't move. I've got to call Dr. Ferguson."
The door opened just as Zinnia stabbed a call button. A middle-aged woman in a badly wrinkled medical jacket walked into the room. She looked weary, but when she saw Nick sitting up in the bed, her dark brown eyes brightened with satisfaction.
"Welcome back to the physical plane, Mr. Chastain. I'm Dr. Ferguson." She moved toward the bed. "You had us worried there for a while. But Miss Spring assured us that you were keeping yourself busy elsewhere."
"Very busy." Nick rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "What day is this?"
"The morning after the ball," Dr. Ferguson said with a quick surprising chuckle. "You and Miss Spring will be thrilled to know that you're in the papers."
"Because of the attack in the garage?" Zinnia asked.
"Not exactly." Dr. Ferguson held up a copy of Synsation.
Zinnia groaned. "Oh, no, not again."
Nick studied the picture of himself sprawled on the floor of the Founders' Club lobby. In the photo Zinnia knelt anxiously at his side. Rexford Eaton stood over him, fists clenched. Daria and Bethany wore expressions of angry dismay. A ring of well-dressed spectators stared in shock.
"Take your time," Dr. Ferguson said. "I've got to see to another patient." She looked vastly amused as she left the room.
Nick read the first paragraph of the story.
Life in High Society. Things went from bad to worse for Nick Chastain last night. Following this bruising encounter with one of the Scarlet Lady's old flames, he wound up in the hospital after a mugging in the Founders' Club garage. No word on the extent of the damage, but rumor has it one of the attackers hit him with a dose of crazy-fog. Wonder if things were a trifle more civilized in the Western Islands?
"Now, don't get excited, Nick." Zinnia touched his shoulder. "You're still recovering. You need to stay calm."
Nick smiled with deep satisfaction. "Why should I get excited? Cedric Dexter finally got it right this time."
"What do you mean?"
He tapped the paper with one finger. "I mean that with this photo, I now have grounds for a protracted lawsuit that will drag Rexford Eaton through the courts for months."
Zinnia narrowed her eyes. "You goaded him on purpose last night, didn't you? You knew Cedric Dexter was skulking around the lobby?"
"Saw him when I went to get your coat." Nick scanned the next paragraph of the article. "I suppose it was too much to hope that Dexter would have gotten a description of the two muggers."
"Feather is looking for them." Zinnia's brows snapped briskly together. "Nick, about this lawsuit. I really don't think it's a good idea. I appreciate that you want to get some revenge on Eaton and Daria and Bethany for what they did to me, but a long court battle will cost a fortune."
"I can afford it."
"You always say that. But some things aren't worth the price and this is one of them. Let it go, Nick. That picture is punishment enough for those three. It'll take weeks for them to live it down."
She was probably right, he thought, but he was reluctant to give up his newly hatched scheme. On the other hand, the last thing he wanted at that moment was an argument with Zinnia. The melancholic expression in her eyes a few minutes ago still worried him.
"I'll think about it," he said.
He was still pondering the look in Zinnia's eyes a few hours later when the door of the hospital room opened with a sharp bang. A vision in black leather, studs, and chains stalked toward the bed. Short, stark white hair bristled. Boot heels rang on the tile. Dark eyes glowered ferociously.
Nick put down the notepad he had been using to make a list of instructions for Feather. "Clementine Malone, I presume?"
"Damn right." Clementine propped one booted foot on the nearest chair and braced her forearm on her leather-clad thigh. "I think we'd better talk."
"About Zinnia?"
"Yes. About Zinnia. She works for me and I look out for my employees. I've tried to stay out of this, but now things have gone too far. What in five hells are you up to, Chastain?"
"I enjoy her company. What makes you think I'm up to anything other than the obvious?"
"Bat-snake shit. You're a matrix." Clementine scowled. "Matrix-talents are anything but obvious. The stronger they are, the more secretive, devious, manipulative, and downright sneaky they get."
"We've gotten a bad rap."
"Sure. And I'll bet you refund to your customers all the money you take from them at your casino, too."
"I didn't say I was stupid."
"No one's accusing you of stupidity. What are your intentions toward Zinnia?"
"My intentions?"
"I know you're registering on the sly with a matchmaking agency. And I know Zinnia's registration is inactive because she was declared unmatchable. Which pretty much means that you don't plan to marry her."
"Do you always leap to conclusions?"
"Come off it, Chastain. Zinnia says you want a wife from a wealthy upper-class family. Her clan used to meet that criteria but it doesn't anymore. It's fallen a long way since the bankruptcy. Besides, even if everything were hunky dory in all the other departments, I doubt that the two of you could be matched. Everyone knows the agencies never match high-class talents and full-spectrum prisms."
"I hear it happens occasionally."
"Try hardly ever." Clementine's mouth curved with disdain. "Zinnia says you've got a plan to buy respectability."
"It's a good plan. What's more, it's working."
Clementine gave him a mocking sneer. "The daily photos in Synsation are part of your master plan?"
"Minor setbacks," he assured her. "They won't be allowed to get in my way."
"Doubt if anything much gets in your way." She took her foot down off the chair and planted her hands on her sturdy hips. "So we're back to the basic question. Where does Zinnia fit into your matrix?"
"I'm going to marry her."
Clementine gaped at him for a few seconds. When she closed her mouth her teeth snapped together. "Are you crazy?"
"I think maybe I was for a while. But I'm not anymore."
"Have you told Zinnia that you plan to marry her?"
"No. And I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your mouth shut until I can deal with that end of things."