For a moment he just looked at her, aware of the sensation of deep, hungry longing welling up inside. She was turned partially away from him, one arm resting on the railing as she gazed pensively at the view of the ruins cloaked in the starry night. He could see the curve of her cheek and the sweet, echoing arcs of her shoulder, breast, and hip.
He took a grip on his self-control, walked to the table, and poured two small glasses of the Emerald Glow. Her fingers brushed against his when he handed one of the glasses to her.
“Thanks,” she said, turning to smile at him. “I need this. I’m exhausted, but I think I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight.”
“It’s the adrenaline.” He swallowed some of the Emerald Glow, savoring the green heat. “It jacks you up and wears you out at the same time. Takes a while to de-rez. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days.”
“Not my usual routine, that’s for sure.” She searched his face. “I don’t think it’s been routine for you, either. You never said what happened when you followed Hollings down into the rain forest.”
He leaned both elbows on the railing, cradling the little glass in one hand, and looked out at the glowing ruins. “He used the relic on me. Felt like I was standing in front of a huge dam that had just broken. A wall of psi crashed over me, wiping out everything, my normal as well as my paranormal senses. It was chaos.” He stopped for a beat. “I thought I was dying.”
“Davis.” She put her glass down and moved closer, sliding her arm around his waist. She leaned into him, letting him absorb her warmth the way she had the night she had driven him back to Cadence after the encounter with Landry’s men. She didn’t say anything more.
He set his own glass aside and pulled her tightly to him, breathing in her scent.
“You were right about the strategy to combat the effects of the relic,” he said into her hair. “I focused on something really important to me, something that was even more important than my own survival. I hung on to it the way a man hangs on to a life preserver when the ship is going down.”
She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “Thank heavens it worked. I wasn’t sure if it would.”
Very gently he eased back and used one finger to raise her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.
“It was your name I used to anchor me in the storm, Celinda.”
“My name?” She sounded bewildered.
“I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die, because that would leave you in mortal danger from Hollings. I know that according to that book of yours, it’s probably way too soon to say this, but I love you.”
“Oh, Davis.” She flung herself hard against him. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you from the moment I walked into my office at Promises, Inc., and sensed your psi energy. I knew that day that you were Mr. Perfect.”
“Let me get this straight.” He laughed a little, as the euphoria hit him. “You fell in love with my psi wave patterns?”
She raised her head. “I always knew I would recognize the man of my dreams when I met him.”
“Hang on a second. Doesn’t that theory run counter to the advice in your book? Trig said that in chapter one it states very clearly that there is no such thing as love at first sight.”
“If there is ever a second edition of the book, I’ll make it a point to correct that obviously inaccurate statement.”
Chapter 42
THE EXECUTIVE SUITE OF THE HIGH-RISE TOWER THAT housed the headquarters of the Cadence Guild had a very fine view of the Dead City. The interior décor of Mercer Wyatt’s private office was as sleek and sophisticated as that of any other seriously successful CEO in the city. Very mainstream, Celinda thought. If you didn’t know much about Guild history, you wouldn’t even guess that you were dealing with an organization that was steeped in secrecy, outmoded traditions, and archaic rules.
“I’ve given your suggestion concerning how to handle the relics a great deal of thought, Miss Ingram,” Mercer Wyatt said.
He was standing in front of the windows, looking even more formidable in person than he did in news photos or when he was being interviewed by a rez-screen reporter. From his hawklike features, silver hair, and specter-cat eyes to the heavy amber rings he wore on his hands, he projected an image of power.
It was his eyes that had caught her attention when they had been introduced a short time ago. Emmett London had the same eyes. There were certain similarities in their psi patterns, too. She knew, without being told, that the rumors were true. Emmett was Wyatt’s son.
Celinda was glad that she and Davis were not facing the Guild boss alone today. They had brought plenty of backup. Emmett and Lydia London were present. So was Max, who was perched on the back of Davis’s chair, and Araminta, who was peering out from the tote at Celinda’s feet.
But Wyatt had some backup of his own, namely his elegant, attractive, much younger wife, Tamara. Davis had explained that Wyatt considered her his most trusted confidante. Tamara was a hunter, one of a statistically small number of women who possessed dissonance-energy para-rez talent. There were rumors circulating to the effect that Wyatt was grooming her to take over his position as head of the Guild. No one believed for one moment that he could do the impossible and install a female as the next boss of the Cadence Guild. But Wyatt had a reputation for getting what he wanted.
It was that reputation that was worrying Celinda this morning.
“It’s not a suggestion,” she said, keeping her tone very polite and respectful. No sense pissing off the Guild boss any more than absolutely necessary. “I must insist that both relics be turned over to a reputable medical research lab. If you want a suggestion, I’ll give you one. Put Dr. Phillips of the Glenfield Institute in charge of studying the therapeutic aspects of the relics.”
Wyatt frowned. “I realize you are concerned about the Guild’s intentions toward the relics. I understand that your unfortunate experience with a member of the Frequency City Guild has left you with a poor impression. However, I assure you that the Cadence Guild adheres to the strictest standards.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t trust the Guild establishment. In my opinion, the organizations lack an appropriate system of checks and balances. However, I will acknowledge that they have a role to play in society.”
Wyatt’s silver brows rose. Something that might have been amusement gleamed in his dangerous eyes. “Do you, indeed? That is very open-minded of you.”
“The Guilds are, however, peculiar blends of business corporations and emergency militias,” she continued. “I am convinced that if any Guild, including the Cadence Guild, gets its hands on the relics, they will view them as possible weapons. While I believe that they have only a very limited potential in that regard, it irritates me to think that the possible therapeutic qualities will be ignored.”
Tamara, seated on a black leather chair, crossed her knees and looked suddenly very curious. “Why do you believe that the relics have only limited potential as weapons?”
Celinda looked at her. “Several reasons. Based on my admittedly limited experience, I am convinced that only someone who possesses the type of psi talent that I have and that Dr. Hollings had can activate them. What’s more, it has to be a very strong form of that talent. That means that the pool of people who can resonate with the relics is probably going to be extremely limited.” She paused for emphasis. “And I’m betting that no ghost hunters will be in that pool.”
“Why not?” Wyatt asked sharply.
Lydia answered with a triumphant smile. “She’s right. It’s a known fact that when a particularly strong talent exists in an individual, it is not generalized across the psychic spectrum. It always takes a specific form such as the ability to resonate with ephemeral or dissonance energy. There is no recorded instance of a person possessing two equally powerful forms of psi talent. That certainly implies that no strong ghost hunters will be able to rez the relic.”