After Dark

Chapter 22

SOMEWHERE AROUND TEN-THIRTY Lydia tried to stretch in the close confines of the Slider's front seat. "If Ryan doesn't do anything exciting soon, I'm going to have to knock on his front door and ask to use the bathroom."

"I tried to talk you out of coming with me tonight," Emmett said with no sign of sympathy.

"Just because you don't mind using the bushes in the park—" She broke off abruptly as the front door of Ryan's condo opened. "There he is."

She leaned forward, excitement bubbling inside her. She could see Ryan very clearly in the streetlights as he walked to his Coaster, parked at the curb.

"There he goes," she whispered.

There was no need to keep her voice pitched low. The Slider's front seat afforded ample privacy, parked halfway down the block in the shadow of a large tree. There was no way Ryan could see, let alone hear, her. But the sheer drama of following Ryan to his mysterious appointment had gotten to her. She realized that the rush was not unlike what she experienced when she tangled with an illusion trap.

"I see him," Emmett said.

She heard the edge in his voice and knew that she was not the only one who was feeling the adrenaline.

"I wonder if we made poor career, choices somewhere along the line," she said. "Maybe we should have become private investigators or something."

He glanced at her with amusement as he rezzed the ignition. "I'm told the work is not usually this interesting. Most private investigators spend their time getting evidence of adultery to be used in Covenant Marriage dissolution cases."

"Depressing. Guess I'll stick with my job at Shrimpton's."

Emmett waited until Ryan pulled away from the curb, then eased the Slider out from the dark shadows beneath the tree. Lydia listened to the soft, hungry whine of the engine and willed Ryan not to look in his rearview mirror.

Kelso drove at a slow, cautious pace, as though he was not particularly eager to get to his destination.

"Probably doesn't want to have to explain to his client that he failed to get me to cooperate," Lydia said. "I hope the guy fires him on the spot tonight. Serve him right."

"I detect a degree of personal animosity, possibly even vengeance, in your tone," Emmett said.

"Yeah."

Ryan cruised sedately along the broad avenues of the university district, past elegantly maintained lawns and harmonically proportioned homes and condominiums.

When he left the neighborhood he turned left and started toward the Old Quarter.

"Well, well, well," Lydia said.

"My sentiments exactly."

A few minutes later Ryan reached the Quarter and drove even more slowly into the maze of narrow streets that bordered the east wall of the Dead City. Some areas of the neighborhood, those that catered to tourists, were reasonably well lit. But the rest of the Quarter existed in a pervasive gloom.

A block away from the main drag, the tiny, twisted lanes and alleys depended on the weak, erratic glow that spilled from the windows of the area's taverns and clubs.

"Be careful," Lydia said. "It would be easy to lose him here. Some of these alleys aren't even on the city maps."

"I won't lose him," Emmett promised softly.

There was a new quality in his voice. The edge was still present, but now there was something else, something almost feral. She studied him covertly. His expression was unreadable in the shadows, but she sensed the predatory anticipation in him.

A small shiver went through her. Energy leaking from the Dead City, she thought. They were very near the wall.

But she knew that what she felt had nothing to do with stray frissons of ambient psi energy in the area. Her senses were rezzed, and they were vibrating in response to the core of power that resonated deep within Emmett, power that was at once very male and very dangerous. It was as though he was readying himself for hand-to-hand combat. But that made no sense, she thought. They were only here to observe Ryan's meeting with his client. Why was Emmett radiating such intense energy?

She opened her mouth to ask him if something was wrong. But at that moment she saw Ryan's car pull over and park at the curb. She peered through the windshield and saw the dim glow of a tavern sign.

"Good grief," she muttered. "I think he's headed for the Green Wall Tavern. No wonder he tried to talk his client out of meeting him here."

"Not an upscale, trendy kind of place, I take it?"

"It's a bottom-of-the-barrel dive. Makes you wonder what kind of lowlife Ryan is working for. He's got a lot of nerve bad-mouthing you for being involved with the Guild when his client schedules meetings in a joint like the Green Wall."

"Nice to know I'm a step up," Emmet said humbly.

Lydia was grateful for the dark shadows of the front seat. She knew she had gone very red.

She watched Ryan climb out of the Coaster, lock it carefully, and then glance around uneasily.

"He doesn't like the looks of the neighborhood," Emmett remarked as he angled the Slider into a space at the curb.

"I don't blame him."

Ryan started down the sidewalk toward the Green Wall Tavern. He glanced back at the Coaster several times.

"He's afraid that when he returns, he's going to find his windows smashed and his car stripped," Lydia said. It belatedly occurred to her that the Slider made an even more tempting target for street vandals than Ryan's Coaster. "And the same thing might happen to your car, Emmett. Maybe we should park somewhere else."

"Don't worry about the Slider." He cracked the door and got out. "I don't think we'll have any trouble."

Unconvinced, Lydia scrambled out of her side and looked at him over the top of the vehicle. "This is one of the worst sections of the Old Quarter in Cadence."

"The car will be okay." Emmett came around the front of the Slider and took her arm. "I've got insurance."

"Even so, if we come back here and find the Slider's been stripped we'll be stuck." She peered worriedly back over her shoulder, much as Ryan had done a moment ago.

She caught a glint of green.

She stopped in her tracks and turned fully around to stare at the parked car. There was a very faint but unmistakable acid-green glow hovering around the license plate of the Slider.

Emmett stopped beside her and glanced casually back at the glowing license plate. "I told you, I have insurance."

"Whew! You can say that again. No car prowler with an eighth of a brain would touch the car of a ghost-hunter strong enough to leave a small ghost hanging around. How did you do that?"

"No big deal. There's plenty of stray psi energy around here. More than enough for me to anchor a little of it to the car for a while."

If Emmett could summon even a tiny ghost and leave it attached to his car while he was halfway down the street, she mused, he was much more powerful than she had guessed.

Not that the news should have come as a major surprise, she thought. Weak ghost-hunters probably did not rise to the top in the Guild's hierarchy. All the same…

"Sheesh," she muttered.

"Come on." He took her arm again and tugged her away from the glowing license plate. "We don't want to lose Kelso."

There would be time enough later to sweat out the implications of doing business with a hunter who could set a ghost to guard his car in a bad neighborhood, Lydia thought. She forced herself back to the problem of Ryan's anonymous client.

"We can't follow Ryan into the tavern," she said. "He'll see us."

"So what? We just want to identify his client. Once we see who it is he's meeting, it won't matter if he spots us."

His logic made sense, but it did nothing to quiet her growing unease. On the other hand, she reminded herself, she was in no position to argue. Following Ryan had been her idea.

Mute, she allowed Emmett to guide her into the synch-smoke-and-gloom-filled interior of the Green Wall. She saw at once that the place was several rungs lower on the tavern evolutionary scale than the Surreal Lounge. Whereas the Surreal exuded a kind of cheerful seediness, the Green Wall was a rough-and-ready, serious drinking place—the clientele had no doubt been asked to leave the premises of other, more upwardly mobile establishments.

Her fears of being seen by Ryan faded swiftly. In places like this, people tended to avoid eye contact. Besides, Ryan was bound to be more nervous than anyone else here. The last thing he was likely to do was look for someone he might recognize.

Emmett found a small booth on the side, and Lydia slipped into the corner. A waitress appeared to take their orders. Emmett sent her away with a request for two beers.

Lydia leaned forward. "Do you see Ryan?"

"He's at the bar. Alone."

"Any chance that he spotted us when we came in?"

Emmett shook his head. "He's got his head down, nursing a beer. I don't think he wants to be seen here any more than we want him to see us."

"Hmm. Maybe his big-time client stood him up." That possibility amused her. "He won't like that. Ryan's used to people worrying about keeping him waiting."

The beers arrived a few minutes later. Lydia peered cautiously toward the bar. She managed to catch a glimpse of Ryan, who looked as if he wished he was invisible. He was definitely not having a good time, she thought.

"Looks like he's been stood up, all right," Emmett said thoughtfully. "Interesting."

There was another small break in the crowd. Lydia saw the bartender move down the bar to where Ryan was hunched over his beer. The man must have said something, because Ryan's head came up swiftly.

"We've got a problem." Emmett was on his feet. "Stay here. Whatever you do, don't go back to the car alone. Got that?"

"I've got absolutely no intention of leaving without you. What's going on? Where are you going?"

"The bartender just handed Kelso a note. I don't think it was a thank-you from the mystery client. I'll be right back."

He turned and started toward the bar. Lydia gave him a minute, during which a sense of impending disaster settled on her. Emmett was walking into trouble. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.

She put down the beer, grabbed her purse, and slid out of the booth. Plunging through the crowd, she made her way toward the bar, arriving just in time to see Ryan slinking uncomfortably toward the dark hallway marked rest rooms. Emmett was hard on his heels, gliding through the throng like a shark through the water.

Both men disappeared into the shadowy passageway. Panic wafted through her. Something was going very wrong here.

Clutching her purse tightly, she pushed her way through the tangle of people gathered around the bar. The synch-smoke was so thick she had to wave her hand in front of her face to clear the air.

She paused in mid-wave when she saw the huge man with hot, bleary eyes looming in front of her. He wore badly stained ghost-hunter khakis and leathers. His hair had even more grease on it than his clothes did. The smell of alcohol on his breath was so strong she was tempted to stop breathing.

"Hey, there, you're a cute little thing." He gave her what was no doubt meant to be a devilishly sexy grin, but it fell short and landed somewhere in the vicinity of a drunken leer. "You all alone, honey?"

"No," she said coldly. "I'm with someone. Please let me pass."

"Who is he?" The man swayed slightly as he surveyed the crowd behind her. "Point him out. I'll bet I can convince him to let you go home with me."

"I doubt it. Get out of my way."

"The name's Durant. I'm a hunter."

"No kidding." She tried to step around him, but he slid back in front of her.

"You ever had yerself a good time with a hunter, cute thing?" He winked broadly. "We're a little extra-special. Know what I mean?"

"Odd you should bring that up. I just happen to be here with a hunter tonight, and he's not going to be real happy if he finds out you're putting the make on me. Now get out of my way."

"Don't you worry, cute thing. I'll invite him out back and fry his brains for him. He won't have much to say for a while after I get finished with him."

"I was under the impression that the Guild frowned on hunter duels," Lydia said icily.

"Nah. It just don't like 'em to get into the papers, that's all." Durant stretched out a massive hand. "Why don't you and me have us a drink? When your ex-boyfriend shows up, I'll take care of him."

"You want a drink, Durant?" She grabbed a glass off a passing tray. "Here, have one on me."

She dashed the contents of the glass straight into his face. The smell of cheap Green Ruin whiskey made her wince. Durant howled and staggered backward, wiping off the dripping liquid.

"Well, shit." Durant blinked several times, then smiled with delight. "I always wanted me a high-spirited-type female."

Seizing her chance, Lydia hurried past him and plunged into the rest-room hallway.

"Hey, come back here, cute thing." Durant lumbered into pursuit. "Don't go runnin' off like that. I do believe you're the woman I've been lookin' for since the day I turned thirteen. I love you, darlin'."

The evening was deteriorating rapidly. Lydia wrinkled her nose when she caught a whiff of the odors that seeped beneath the rest-room doors. She kept going, searching for the rear exit.

She turned a corner and saw the door to the alley. There was no sign of either Ryan or Emmett, but she caught a glimpse of a faint green glow coming through the opening. Ghost light.

Bad sign, she thought.

"Come back here, cute thing," Durant shouted euphorically. "I wanna marry you. I want you to have my babies, darlin'."

She stepped through the open doorway into the rank alley. Psi energy crackled in the air. She spun around, searching for the source of the ghost light. She froze when she saw the tableau illuminated in the eerie green glow.

Two ghost-hunters were closing in on Ryan, who had flattened himself against the back wall of the tavern. The assailants were each manipulating moderate-sized ghosts. They were using the green energy manifestations to pin Ryan. In the acid light his face was a mask of fear.

Lydia realized the hunters must have been waiting for him. They had trapped him, and now they were manipulating the ghosts closer. The slow, inefficient way in which the energy danced in the darkness told her that the assailants were young and inexperienced in the handling of psi energy.

But their intentions were clear. They were going to fry Ryan.

The glowing balls of dissonance energy had to be at least eighteen inches across. Serious-sized ghosts, considering that the young specter-cats were working outside the Dead City. The youths might be clumsy, but they were strong para-rezes.

Neither ghost alone would have been enough to do more than knock Ryan unconscious, maybe give him a few hours of amnesia. But together the pair could kill him or, at the very least, scramble his brains, perhaps permanently.

"Well, shit." Durant floundered to a halt behind Lydia and peered out into the alley. "What the hell's goin' on out here? We got us a little hunter duel?"

Lydia ignored him. She was too busy trying to locate Emmett in the darkness.

She saw the ghost he conjured first. Without warning, green fire burst into a sheet of blazing energy that was larger than the two smaller ghosts combined.

Emmett stepped out of the shadows of the Dead City wall on the other side of the alley. Around him, the night shimmered and danced with resonating energy. The ghost he had summoned floated toward the two hunters who had pinned Ryan.

"Well, shit," Durant said again, this time in a tone of near-reverent awe. "I don't believe the size of that ghost. And we're not even inside the wall. Whoever he is, he's gonna fry the lot of 'em."

The two young hunters who were closing in on Ryan must have sensed the large UDEM floating toward them. They whirled quickly.

"What the hell?" The first hunter stared, stunned at the advancing ghost. "There's the other guy. Get him."

"He's too strong. He's gonna fry us."

"We can take him."

They just might be able to do it, Lydia thought, horrified.

"Stop it!" she shouted. "I'm calling the police. This is illegal!"

No one paid any attention to her. The two ghosts the youths had been manipulating toward Ryan reversed course and veered to intercept the energy field that Emmett had summoned. The three shimmering balls of raw energy collided. Green sparks showered the night. Acid-green light flared high, crackling dangerously in the air.

Lydia closed her eyes to keep from being temporarily blinded by the bright flash. When she opened them a second later, fearing the worst, she saw Emmett's face starkly etched in the trailing edge of the eerie glow. She was certain that some of the backwash must have caught him, but he seemed unaffected. He kept moving forward. So did his ghost.

The two smaller ghosts winked out.

"He got mine." The second of the two assailants sounded terrified now. He whirled and ran.

The other youth did not respond. He was already fleeing into the night.

Emmett's ghost disappeared too. But another one, considerably smaller, snapped into existence just in front of one of the running youths.

"I'll be damned," Durant sounded deeply impressed. "Haven't seen anything that quick in years. Bush-whacked the little sonofobitch."

Lydia held her breath as the fleeing youth blundered straight into the energy field. It blinked out of existence as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew it had caught the young man. He stiffened and then crumpled to the pavement. He did not move.

Emmett went to stand beside the fallen youth.

"Is he…?" Lydia took a step toward the pair and halted. "Emmett, is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. He just caught some of the de-rez backwash. He'll be out for a while."

"Thank goodness." She glanced at Ryan, who was still slumped against the wall, looking dazed. When she turned back she saw that Emmett was swiftly going through the hunter's pockets.

"What are we going to do with him?" Lydia asked.

"Nothing," Emmett fished a wallet out of the youth's back pocket, flipped it open. "I just want to see who he is."

"Well, shit," Durant said.

Emmett looked up from the open wallet. For the first time he seemed to notice the big man standing in the open doorway.

"Who's that?" he asked Lydia.

Lydia looked at Durant, who was staring openmouthed at Emmett. "That's Durant. He says he's in love with me. He wants me to marry him and have his babies."

"Is that so?" Emmett gave Durant a speculative look.

Durant gulped and managed to close his mouth. "No. No. Big misunderstanding." He flapped his hands in a warding-off gesture. "Just a passing acquaintance, that's all."

"He mentioned something about dueling you for my hand," Lydia said.

"Yeah?" Emmett watched Durant very steadily.

"She's got it all wrong," Durant yelped. He staggered backward, then turned clumsily and disappeared into the darkness of the tavern hall.

"It's exactly like they tell you in all the women's magazines," Lydia said. "Men these days just can't seem to commit."