Another snakelike tongue of talent flickered. Amaryllis sensed that the power was weaker this time. Different somehow. A sputtering candle compared to what she had felt earlier. She reminded herself that the ability of a talent and a prism to seek each other out for a link diminished rapidly with distance.
Amaryllis crawled faster. She willed every trace of her own power to the farthest depths of her mind.
Dillon smiled ruefully at Lucas from the other side of the restaurant table. "I told Dad the whole story."
"I know." Lucas cut into the slab of copper-colored fish on his plate. "Your father came to see me."
"I was afraid of that." Dillon's smile faded. "What did he say?"
"Tried to pay off your debt. I told him that the arrangement was between you and me and that he wasn't involved."
Dillon straightened in his chair. "Same thing I told him. He was pissed."
"You want my opinion?"
"What's that?"
Lucas forked up a bite of the fish. "I think he was also impressed. Don't get me wrong, he was still furious about the debt. But he seemed to accept the fact that you had gotten yourself into the mess and intended to get yourself out."
A gleam of hope appeared in Dillon's eyes. "You think maybe he's coming around?"
"I don't know."
Dillon's jaw tightened. "Lucas, I want to ask you something."
"I was afraid of that." Lucas put down his fork. "Before you get too carried away, you should know that I'm not known for the depths of my intuition and understanding of other people. If you want to ask me about the best way to deal with your parents, be advised that I have zero experience in that kind of thing."
"My parents are my problem. I want to ask you for a job."
Lucas eyed him for a long, considering moment. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure. I've got to pay off my debt, and going to work for Lodestar is the best way to do it. I really want to do this, Lucas."
"What about your parents?"
"This is something I have to do. I'll tell them my plans and hope for the best. If I wait for their approval, I'll wait forever. Dad might eventually understand, but I don't think Morn ever will. She'll always blame Lodestar Exploration for Jackson's death."
Lucas hesitated. "Your mother will probably hate my guts if I give you a job."
"So what else is new?" Dillon asked softly. "Let's face it, she's hated you since the day she got word that Jackson was dead."
The bluntness of the words hit Lucas with the impact of a cold wave. "She hates Lodestar."
"You are Lodestar Exploration. You always were. It was your company before Jackson met you, and it was your company after he died. She will never be able to separate the two."
"Yeah, I know." Why should he care, Lucas wondered. He had never really been a member of the Rye family. Just an acquaintance and business partner. Beatrice Rye's superficial kindnesses to him in the past had been acts of expediency, nothing more.
"I'm sorry, Lucas."
"Forget it."
"Try not to take it too personally. You know how mothers are."
Lucas let that slide. "All right, if you want a job and you're prepared to take the heat from your folks, you've got it. Check in with Lodestar employment tomorrow."
"Thanks." Dillon grinned. "Hot synergy, this is great. I can't wait to get out to the islands."
"Just one small helpful hint before you go."
"What's that?"
Lucas surveyed Dillon's stylish Western Islands attire. "Don't take those clothes with you. Nobody dresses like that in the islands. You'll get laughed out of Port LeConner. Wait until you get there and buy local."
Dillon laughed. It was the exuberant laugh of a young man looking forward to an exciting future. It made Lucas feel good for some reason.
An hour later Lucas paused by a public phone on the way out of the restaurant. He dialed Amaryllis's number, hoping that she would still be awake. He wanted to talk to her. More and more he found himself wanting to share things with her. Tonight he wanted to tell her about Dillon.
Instead, he got a message on her answering machine: "This is Amaryllis Lark. I am not able to come to the phone right now. If this is Lucas, I'm in Founders Square. Vivien called and told me she wanted to talk. Don't worry, I took a cab. I'll call and tell you all about it when I get home."
"Damn." Lucas slammed down the phone.
Dillon glanced at him. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go to Founders Square." Lucas headed for the front door. "Don't forget. Report to employment tomorrow."
"Don't worry," Dillon called after him. "I won't forget."
Without warning, a fresh surge of fierce, questing talent swept out of the darkness behind Amaryllis.
This was a new talent, not the one that had been hunting her.
Strong power searched for a prism and demanded a mind link. The shock of stunning intimacy that accompanied the whip of psychic energy identified the source immediately.
Lucas. He was somewhere in the building.
Amaryllis crouched between what seemed to be two large wooden crates and almost sobbed with relief. The brief flare of hot talent winked out of existence before she could unlock her own damped down power.
Frustrated by having missed the opportunity to link with Lucas, she fought the compulsion to rise to her feet and scream his name aloud. Even as the dangerous thought occurred to her, she experienced another brush from a slimy tongue of talent.
The killer was still here with her in the darkness.
Amaryllis forced herself to think. She had to let Lucas know that she was nearby. She readied herself so that she would be able to link with him the next time he sought her out.
It occurred to her that there might be some risk involved in using her prism capabilities to identify herself to Lucas.
She had no fear that the murderer would seize the link during those first few seconds of disoriented vulnerability. In spite of her affection for psychic vampire romances, she was too well schooled in the focus sciences to believe that a rogue talent could actually take control of her.
The real hazard in linking with Lucas right now was that the killer might be able to get an approximate fix on her location during those few seconds when her mind was open.
But she had to do something, Amaryllis thought. If Lucas did not find her with his psychic search, he might conclude that she had left the building. He would never know about the danger that was closing in on her.
Lucas's dark whisper of power unfurled through the shadows once more. Amaryllis mentally leaped for it, caught it as if it were a swinging trapeze, and formed the link. Talent surged through a prism in a display of chaotic light. Amaryllis wondered if this was the psychic color of relief or anger or frustration. There was no way to tell. But at least Lucas now knew she was nearby.
It was unfortunate that there was no such thing as telepathy, she thought. It would have been very useful to be able to have a quick chat with Lucas at that particular moment.
She was trying to think of a way to use the psychic connection to warn him of danger when the scent of a man's Cologne wafted toward her through the shadows. It shattered her concentration so completely that she dropped the link.
The booming music masked sound but not smell. The masculine fragrance drifted past her nose again. It was vaguely familiar. Definitely not Lucas. He did not use any Cologne.
The killer was close. Much too close. She wondered if he could smell the fear she knew she must be exuding like some dreadful perfume of her own.
She put out a hand, groping cautiously for something that she could use as a weapon. There was nothing on the floor beside her. With the music as a cover for any sound she might make, she rose slowly to her feet and felt for one of the crates.
The lid on the nearest one was open. There were objects inside. Hard objects.