"The plan isn't going to work very well if you insist on separate quarters," he said patiently.
Why hadn't she considered this aspect of the situation a little more closely? Because she had been rushing around madly all day, that was why. Fontana had given her very little time to think. In hindsight, that had probably not been an accident. He had subtly but deliberately taken charge of their relationship. But, then, that's what Guild bosses did. They took command.
"I don't care how it looks in the media," she said, going for stubborn. "So there's gossip about our relationship? So what? You said the main point was to make certain that everyone knew that I was your wife."
"I don't give a damn about the gossip. After that incident with the Riders this afternoon, we have to assume that not all of the bad actors are inside the organization."
Jolted, she stared up at him. "You think those guys who attacked me are somehow connected to the conspiracy?"
"I think we have to assume it's a reasonable possibility. Who else have you managed to piss off lately besides Jenner?" he asked.
She swallowed hard. "Not the Riders. I've never done a story on them. The management of Underworld Exploration wasn't too happy when I exposed their shady business ties with the Guild, but they complained the old-fashioned way. Their lawyers threatened to sue the paper. I can't see a big company like that hiring a bunch of low-life gang members to get rid of one measly little tabloid reporter."
"I think you're in more trouble than you realize. Until we know what's going on, you won't be spending the night alone."
"Why your place?" she muttered.
"You'll be safer at my house. I installed a state-of-the-art ambertronics security system shortly after I bought it last month. No one can even get on the grounds without triggering the alarms."
She thought about the strange restlessness that had kept her awake last night. Her intuition had told her that someone was watching. Her intuition was usually right. Maybe the Riders had been stalking her.
She made her decision.
"You're right," she said, rezzing the Float's little flash-rock engine. "I need to pick up a few things at my place."
Chapter 8
SHE EMERGED FROM THE BEDROOM, AN OVERNIGHT CASE in her hand, and found Fontana studying the miniature star dressing room on the coffee table. He looked deeply intrigued.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"An ex-hunter named Jake Tanner built it for Elvis. Poor Jake is a juice addict who lives in an alley a few blocks from here. When he's not in a juice dream, he makes the most amazing miniatures out of discarded items and materials that he scrounges from garbage bins. Elvis's dressing room is his latest masterpiece."
"It's incredible."
She smiled. "Yes, it is."
The dressing room was a marvelously detailed work of art. The walls stood some ten inches high. There was no ceiling, so you looked straight down into it.
The room was complete, right down to the dressing table covered in red velvet and the mirror surrounded by tiny lights. There was also a little guitar. The walls were paneled and set with hooks designed to hold the costumes that Jake had made for Elvis. In addition to his sparkling white cape, there was a short-sleeved shirt printed with exotic tropical flowers. A tiny lei hung next to the tropical shirt.
Elvis popped into the dressing room using the little door. He puttered about briefly, checking to be sure that nothing had changed since he had left it. Satisfied, he came back out and chortled at Sierra.
"The guitar actually works," Sierra said. "Listen."
She reached down into the dressing room and used her fingertip to pluck one of the strings on the small instrument. There was a faint but distinct twang.
Fontana smiled. "Amazing."
She straightened and tightened her grip on the handle of the rolling suitcase.
"I'm ready," she said.
"You don't have to look as though you're going to a funeral."
"Sorry. It's been a long day. I'm exhausted."
He took the suitcase from her and went toward the door. She picked up Elvis and followed.
"So, are you going to work out or something?" she asked, trying to sound casually unconcerned.
"At this hour of the night? I don't think so."
If she had any sense, she would keep her mouth shut, she thought.
"I was under the impression that de-rezzing ghosts had some side effects," she said cautiously. "Or is it different when you manipulate dark light?"
"It's all dissonance energy," he said. He opened the door. "Same side effects."
"I see." She didn't know where to go with that.
Fontana closed the door and turned around to face her. She was forced to halt directly in front of him. He did not touch her, but she noticed that it was suddenly very hard to breathe.
"Something you should know," he said. He used the edge of his hand to tip up her chin.
She managed to rez up a bright, polite smile. "Yes?"
"A man doesn't get very far in the Guild if he can't handle a little afterburn."
Heat suffused her face. "I didn't mean to imply that you were, uh—"
"That I might be crazed with lust because I rezzed those five little ghosts?"
She blushed. "Never crossed my mind."
"Is that right? It crossed mine. The answer is yes, by the way."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I'm crazed with lust. Doesn't mean I'm out of control."
"Oh. Good. Well, that's just great. Glad to hear it."
"I'll prove it," he said.
She was transfixed. "How?"
"Like this."
He bent his head and took her mouth. Heat flashed through her, just as it had in the registrar's office. Energy crackled in the atmosphere. Dazed from her own volatile response, she swayed a little, leaning into him. She felt Elvis scramble up onto Fontana's shoulder so that he wouldn't get crushed. It was a smart move. Fontana's chest was quartz-hard, and she was pressed very tightly against him.
She wanted the kiss to go on forever, but Fontana ended the reckless plunge into passion a moment later. He raised his head and set her gently away from him.
"Time to go home," he said.
Chapter 9
FONTANA EASED THE RAPTOR TO A HALT IN FRONT OF A pair of massive gates and punched a code into a small device on the dashboard.
The gates were fashioned in an elaborate design that made them appear more like large works of metal art than a security feature, but Sierra had a hunch they were probably made of mag-steel. A high stone fence surrounded the property.
The gates swung open, and she saw the mansion. It loomed like a fairy-tale castle in the glowing green fog. Not the home of the handsome prince, she decided, more like the ominous domain of a sorcerer.
"Must take a big staff to run this place," she observed, trying to make herself focus on small talk.
"I believe in delegating. I have a household manager. She comes in five days a week and oversees whatever is needed. I let her take care of hiring gardeners, housekeepers, and any other services she thinks are necessary."
"But she doesn't live here?"
"No. I like my privacy. When I come home at night, I want to be alone."
The drive was so choked with luminous mist she could barely make out the dark shapes of the trees that lined the approach to the big house.
Fontana eased the Raptor along the paved lane and into a garage. The door of the garage locked behind them with the rumbling clang of a bank vault. Sierra collected Elvis and got out of the car. Together they waited while Fontana extracted her small suitcase from the trunk.
He used another code to rez a second vaultlike door.
"Okay, I see what you mean about your security system being a bit more elaborate than mine," she said. "Do all Guild chiefs feel that it's necessary to invest in such sophisticated equipment, or is there something about being the boss of the Crystal Guild that makes it a good idea?"