Silver Master (26 page)

DAVIS DISAPPEARED. SHE COULD FEEL HIS STRONGLY
pulsing psi energy and knew that he was right beside her, but all she could see was a faint shimmer in the air. It was disconcerting, but it wasn't terrifying. As long as her other senses assured her that he was nearby, she could handle the invisibility thing.
If I were blind, I wouldn't even know that he had vanished
.

She closed the lobby door. Davis materialized beside her. She could see signs of strain at the corners of his eyes.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked in a low voice.

“I'm fine. Stop worrying.” The hungry anticipation of the hunter laced the words.

She surveyed the small lobby. It was richly paneled and thickly carpeted. A long, low wooden table that looked like a genuine Colonial antique stood against one wall. On top of the table was an alien antiquity, a green quartz vase that contained a bouquet of elegant emerald roses.

There were two doors; one was unmarked. The other bore a small sign inviting clients to enter.

“That will be the receptionist's office,” Davis said very quietly. “Go on inside and keep her busy for a few minutes.”

“What are you going to do?”

He looked at the second door. “That's probably the private door to Hollings's office.” He took the highly illegal lockpick out of his pocket. “I'm going to have a look around.”

“What if he's in there?”

“So much the better.”

She wanted to tell him to be careful, but she was pretty sure he wasn't listening. Davis was on the prowl.

She opened the door of the receptionist's office and walked inside. An extremely polished, professional-looking woman sat at the desk. She was dressed in a conservative business suit. The sign on top of her desk said that her name was Miss Allonby

“Please sit down.” Miss Allonby's tone was as crisply refined as her appearance. “I don't believe I caught your name?”

“Susan Baker.” Celinda took a seat. “As I told you a moment ago, I was referred by Senator Padbury's wife.”

“Yes, of course. You do understand that Dr. Kennington is extremely busy. He rarely takes new clients these days.”

“I'm hoping he'll make an exception for me.”

Miss Allonby rezzed the computer on her desk and turned toward the screen. “I'm afraid the first available appointment isn't until the end of next month.”

“That will be fine,” Celinda said.

THE LOCKPICK FOUND THE FREQUENCY. THERE WAS A
soft click. Davis opened the door and walked into the room. A heavy dose of alien psi rezzed all his senses. He didn't need to survey the room to know that there was a bolt-hole into the catacombs somewhere nearby.

The distinguished-looking man seated at a large desk near the window looked up, startled.

“You've got the wrong door,” he said, patrician features darkening in an irritated scowl.

“I don't think so, Dr. Hollings.”

Recognition flashed across the face of the man who called himself Kennington. Alarm and something close to panic followed almost immediately. He leaped to his feet, staring at Davis as if he couldn't believe his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Guild business. Among other things, I've come to collect the other ruby amber relic.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Hollings had recovered some of his composure now. Very casually he started to reach toward the top drawer of the desk.

Davis took the mag-rez out of his pocket. “Hands in the air, Hollings.”

Hollings's jaw clenched, but he raised his hands. Davis crossed the room, went behind the desk, and opened the drawer. A mag-rez gun gleamed dully inside. He scooped it out and ejected the cartridge.

“I assume this used to belong to Brinker?” he said.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You should know better than to keep one of these things this close to a bolt-hole,” Davis said. “There's a lot of alien psi floating around this room. No telling what might happen if you actually pulled the trigger.”

Fury leaped in Hollings's face. “Listen, you son of a bitch, I don't know what you think you're doing—”

The door of the receptionist's office opened directly behind Hollings. Davis saw a dark-haired woman in a severe suit. She stared, openmouthed, at the scene in the inner office. Celinda was directly behind her.

“What in the world is going on in here?” the receptionist gasped. “Doctor? Are you all right? Shall I call the police?”

Hollings did not reply. He launched himself at Davis, eyes wild. He seemed oblivious of the gun in Davis's hand. Somehow you just don't expect a sensible person to charge a man holding a mag-rez, Davis thought. But it only went to show how unpredictable things could get when the situation escalated into violence.

Miss Allonby screamed.

He didn't dare fire the mag-rez. If he missed or if the alien psi warped the shot, he could easily hit one of the women.

He moved, trying to sidestep Hollings, but he came up hard against the desk chair, which spun away beneath his weight.

Hollings plowed into him. He was already off balance, thanks to the encounter with the chair. The force of the impact sent him sprawling.

Hollings did not seem interested in engaging in fancy hand-to-hand combat. He ran toward a door at the back of the room, yanked it open, and vanished into the unlit space behind it.

Davis rolled to his feet and went after him. The last thing he heard before he followed Hollings into the darkness was the receptionist. She was still screaming.

MISS ALLONBY FINALLY QUIT SHRIEKING. CELINDA EASED
her down onto a client chair.

“Take it easy,” she said soothingly. “Would you like a glass of water?”

Miss Allonby looked up at her, bewildered and fearful. “What is this all about?”

“Dr. Kennington's real name is Hollings, and I'm sorry to inform you that he is involved with stolen antiquities. The Guild hired Mr. Oakes to retrieve a relic that was taken from the Guild vault.”

“Dr. Kennington?” Miss Allonby was thunderstruck. “Dealing in stolen antiquities? Why, that's impossible. His list of clients includes some of the most important people in Cadence.”

“Listen, Miss Allonby, I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but this is Guild business. There's someone outside watching the front door of this office. He'll know what to do. I'll go get him.”

“It's all right,” Miss Allonby said. She gazed into the middle distance and miraculously regained her composure. “I already know what to do. I have my instructions.”

There was no time to decipher that odd comment. Celinda gave her one last reassuring pat on the shoulder and then went through the second door into the building lobby.

The all-too-familiar waves of twisted energy flooded her senses just as she reached to open the front door.

“If you're looking for the panhandler who was watching this place, don't waste your time,” Benson Landry said behind her. “I took him out of the picture a few minutes ago.”

THE OLD, DIMLY LIT STEPS LED STRAIGHT DOWN TO A
jagged gouge in the catacomb wall. Davis could see the slice of eerie green light waiting at the bottom. Hollings was just ahead of him, a dark figure bounding down the two-hundred-year-old staircase.

A few seconds later Hollings stood silhouetted briefly against the emerald glow. Then he vanished into the tunnels. Davis leaped the last few steps and went through the opening at a run. He had to keep Hollings in sight. He didn't have the man's amber frequency. Without it and minus one of the new locator devices, he wouldn't be able to track Hollings if he lost visual contact.

But when he got through the ragged hole in the wall, he had no trouble spotting his quarry. Hollings wasn't trying to flee deep into the catacombs. Instead he was going through another, man-sized opening in the green quartz wall.

Humid heat and the chaotic scents and sounds of the rain forest spilled out into the tunnel. Nothing else followed. The thick foliage grew right up to the opening, but not a single stray leaf or vine drifted out into the tunnel. No creatures wriggled or slithered through the gap. The invisible psi barriers the aliens had installed to keep the jungle from invading the catacombs held fast.

The wall of psi had no effect on humans. Hollings fled through the gate into the rain forest. He looked like a man who knew where he was going, a man with a plan.

Davis went after him, moving from the sterile green quartz tunnel into the verdant rain forest in a single stride. When it came to pursuits, the jungle was no better than the catacombs. In the tunnels a man could vanish by going around a corner. Here in this underground world of green, he could disappear by concealing himself behind one of the vine-choked trees.

Hollings was making no effort to hide, however. He shoved his way frantically through a forest of tall fern trees. Davis followed, opening his hunter's senses. He probed for the telltale whisper of dissonance energy that would be all the warning he got before he blundered into a ghost river or a psi storm.

Hollings showed no such hesitation. He had obviously come this way on other occasions and felt confident that the path was clear of ghost energy and other hazards.

Davis was less than ten feet away when Hollings stopped and whirled around.

“This is far enough,” Hollings said. He raised one hand, aiming the ruby amber relic as though it were a gun. “You're a dead man, Oakes.”

It wasn't the threat that made Davis pause; it was the slashing wave of psychic energy that slammed across his senses, deadening them.

“You fool,” Hollings shouted. “You have no conception of the kind of power I can wield down here.”

Another tsunami of psi crashed across his numbed senses. Everything started to darken around him.

Try concentrating all of your psi power on something linked to your survival instinct.

Celinda. He seized on the name like a talisman. It glowed like a jewel in the gathering night.

Another ferocious wave of energy slammed through him. This time everything went black except for Celinda's name.

Names have psychic power. He did not know how he knew that, but he was absolutely certain of the knowledge. Celinda's name had the power he needed to fight the onrushing tide. He concentrated on it.

At first it was only a name, but after a couple of pounding heartbeats there was more. Emotions became attached to the name, faint at first and then gradually strengthening. Hunger, longing, a desire to keep her safe.

Safe
. He had to fight back. If Hollings won this battle, Celinda would be in mortal danger.

The silent, screaming waves of energy continued to cascade against his senses, but they began to splinter and fall apart when they crashed against the name
Celinda
. Keeping her safe was more important than his own life.

The tide of energy ceased as abruptly as it had begun.

“No,” Hollings screamed. “It's impossible.”

Davis could breathe once more. His psi senses rebounded.

He saw that Hollings was moving again, leaning down to reach into a small cave. When he straightened, Davis saw a mag-rez gun in his hand.

“You're crazy,” Davis said. “You can't use that thing down here.”

Hollings was beyond reason. He aimed the mag-rez at Davis.

Davis reacted instinctively. He pulled silver, went invisible, and dove for the ground.

Hollings's eyes widened in horror. “Where are you? Where did you go? You can't hide from me.”

He started firing. The first two shots went wild. The third time he rezzed the trigger, the mag-rez exploded in his hand.

By the time Davis reached him, he was dead.

“I SHOULD THANK YOU, CELINDA,” LANDRY SAID. HIS
smile was hellish. “If it hadn't been for you, Hollings would never have contacted me for help in retrieving the second relic. I wouldn't even know the damn things existed.”

“He told you his real name?”

“Sure. Hollings and I are
partners
.” Landry smirked. “Temporarily, that is.”

Erratic, flaring psi pulsed and surged. What little control Landry still wielded over his insanity was slipping badly.

There was no sound from the inner office. Celinda prayed that meant that Miss Allonby had gone into her own office to call for help.

“You're a hunter,” Celinda said. She was shivering, but she managed to keep her tone calm and steady. She had to give Miss Allonby time. “A very powerful hunter, it's true, but you don't have the kind of psychic talent it takes to manipulate the relic.”

“Not a problem. Hollings will work it for me until I locate others who can do what he can. That shouldn't be hard. I've got the resources of the Guild behind me. Once I've replaced Hollings, I'll get rid of him. Don't trust the slippery bastard.”

“That plan sounds a little shaky, if you ask me.”

“I don't want your opinion.” His eyes sparked with rage. “All I want from you is the other relic.”

“Why would I give it to you?”

“Because if you don't, I'm going to kill you.”

“You'll kill me anyway once you have the relic.”

“True.” He smiled slowly. “But there are different ways to die. Fast and slow. You're lucky. You've got a choice.”

“You think the local Guild won't notice that something happened to me?”

“There won't be any evidence. You'll commit suicide by walking off into the rain forest without tuned amber. If anyone does eventually find your body, there won't be anything left of it except bare bones. The jungle is like the Guild, you see. It takes care of its own problems.”

“You're forgetting one very important factor. Davis Oakes.”

“Oakes is a dead man. Hollings will take care of him with the relic.”

“Don't count on it,” she said tightly.

“The relic is very powerful when it's used belowground. Hollings won't have any trouble dealing with Oakes.”

A figure moved in the doorway. Celinda saw Miss Allonby standing there, a trancelike expression on her face. She did not appear to notice the gun in Landry's hand.

“I'm afraid both of you will have to come back some other time,” she said, severely polite. “I have to burn Dr. Kennington's papers now. He left strict instructions.”

Landry scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dr. Kennington was very clear,” she said primly. “He told me that if anyone tried to harm him or take him away, I was to burn his papers immediately.”

“Ghost-shit,” Landry said, suddenly comprehending. “His research. You can't destroy those papers, you stupid woman. I'm going to need them after I get rid of him.”

Miss Allonby stopped long enough to give him a stern look. “I'm just doing my job.”

“Take one more step, and I'll kill you.”

Miss Allonby drew herself up proudly. “I'll have you know I am a professional. I would not dream of failing to execute my responsibilities.”

“Stop, you stupid bitch,” Landry bellowed.

Miss Allonby tut-tutted. “Language, sir. Language.”

Landry started to aim the mag-rez gun at her. Celinda readied herself to spring at him. She would go for his gun arm, she thought. It wasn't much of a chance, but it looked like the only one she was going to get.

As if he had read her mind, Landry hesitated. Then he took two steps forward, hooked an arm around her throat, and dragged her hard against his body.

She gasped for air. He was half-strangling her, but she did have physical contact. Struggling to breathe, she opened her senses to the sick tide of psi energy that pounded at her and began to probe delicately.

Certain that he had her under control, Landry concentrated on Miss Allonby.

“Don't move,” he ordered.

“You are not my employer, sir,” Miss Allonby informed him. She turned her back to him and started to walk into the office.

Crushed against him, wide open to his psi patterns, Celinda was intensely aware of the slight jump in tension as Landry prepared to pull the trigger. He was taking his time, hesitating just a bit. Probably worried that someone outside in the street would hear the shot, she thought. Whatever the case, it gave her a precious few instants of time. She had one advantage. She knew Landry's energy patterns all too well. She still encountered them in her nightmares.

The roaring pulses of cold, crazy rage were shatteringly clear on the paranormal plane. The problem was that the pattern was so frighteningly abnormal. Desperately she tried to establish a counterpoint rhythm capable of dampening the most violent psi waves.

She knew she was having a measure of success when she opened her eyes and saw that Miss Allonby had disappeared into the office. Landry had not pulled the trigger.

“What's happening?” His hand tightened around her throat. “What are you doing to me?
I can't rez the trigger
.”

She did not even try to answer. All her concentration was on disrupting his energy rhythms.

He started to shake. Still pinned against him, she could feel the tremors going through his body, just like that night when he had tried to rape her. On the psychic plane, all was chaos. She heard the gun clatter on the floor.

Landry shouted something. He sounded terrified. Abruptly he released her, spinning away from her. His breath came in great, gulping gasps.

“Don't touch me,” he screamed. “Get away from me. You're doing something to me. I can feel it.”

Crouching, she scooped up the mag-rez gun, gripping it in both hands.

Landry stared at her, shocked and enraged. Now that they were no longer in physical contact, he was already recovering.

He looked at the gun in her hand and uttered a derisive laugh. “What do you think you're going to do with that?”

“Shoot you,” she said.

“Not a chance. You don't have the nerve. Besides, there's no way a stupid little bitch like you would know how to use a mag-rez.”

She lowered the barrel of the gun, aiming at a point just in front of his boots, and rezzed the trigger.

The shot roared like thunder in the small room. Landry jumped back and then stared, stunned, at the hole in the floor where the bullet had plowed into the two-hundred-year-old wood.

Celinda raised the barrel of the gun so that it once again pointed at his midsection. “As you can see, I've been practicing. I've waited for this moment for a long time, Landry.”

He must have read her intention in her eyes, because his face went oddly slack with fear.

“No, wait,” he whispered. “You can't do this—”

There was a sound from the office doorway behind her.

“I think we can let the Guild deal with him now,” Davis said quietly.

“I haven't noticed that it has been able to do that very well,” she said. She did not take her eyes or the gun off Landry.

“It will this time,” Davis said, moving up to stand beside her. He held out his hand. “You have my word on it.”

She flicked a glance at him, uncertain.

“You don't want to do this,” he said. “Trust me; once you've done it, you can't ever forget it. Landry's not worth the psychic burn.”

“But I have to be sure. I can't let that bastard threaten my family ever again.”

“He won't,” Davis said. “I know you don't buy the old saying, but the Guild really does police its own.”