Obsidian Prey

Chapter 5

THE FIRST LIGHT OF DAWN HAD BARELY BEGUN TO REPLACE the green glow of the Dead City walls by the time Cruz brought the Slider to a halt in front of the apartment building. He could feel Lyra's exhaustion. Her head was resting against the back of the seat. Her eyes were closed. The psychic lift that came from being underground had faded. So had the exhilaration created by the bio-cocktail that had exploded through her bloodstream when she had worked the exotic amber. He knew the sensation well. Energy was energy, whether it took a normal or paranormal form. Using a lot of it gave you a rush, but later you paid a price.

"You need sleep," he said.

"I know." She opened her eyes and glanced at her watch. "If I go straight to bed, I can get in a couple of hours before my Harmonic Meditation class."

Vincent was perched on the seat above her shoulder. His floppy painter's beret was still on his head. Of the three of them, he was the only one who showed no indications of having been through a long night. Cruz patted the top of the red beret.

"Perky as ever, buddy, aren't you?" he said.

Vincent mumbled cheerfully.

Cruz opened the driver's side door and climbed out. Lyra had her own door open, Vincent tucked under one arm, and was heading for the lobby entrance by the time he got around the front of the car. Stubborn Dore.

She dug out her key. "It's okay," she said, yawning a little. "You don't have to see me upstairs."

"Yes," Cruz said, "I do."

She shrugged. "Whatever. Believe it or not, I'm too tired to argue with you."

"I'll treasure the moment."

They got into the elevator. When the doors slid open on the fourth floor, he followed her down the hall to her apartment. There he waited again while she let herself inside and turned on a light.

Vincent muttered happily and tumbled down to the floor. He headed immediately toward the kitchen. Lyra turned toward Cruz. She gave him a wan smile.

"Thanks for an interesting evening," she said.

She started to step back. He put the toe of his boot just over the threshold, making it impossible to shut the door. From where he stood, he could see the vase of purple orchids.

"I want another chance, Lyra," he said.

She shook her head wearily. "I'll admit I've had a few revenge fantasies over the past three months, but tonight was a reality check. I understand that you need someone who can rez those amethyst stones, but I won't let you seduce me into doing it. Don't worry; I'm sure there are other people out there who can work purple amber. Try placing an ad in the newspapers."

"I'm not talking about the damn rocks in the lab. I'm talking about us. You and me."

She folded her arms and lounged against the doorjamb. "If you'd been serious about a relationship, you wouldn't have waited this long to ask for another chance. To be more specific, you wouldn't have waited until you found out you needed me to reopen that chamber."

"You're the one who threw me out of your life, and then you filed a lawsuit against me. What the hell was I supposed to do?" He paused, searching for the right words. "I figured you needed time."

"Is that so?" She raised her brows. "Tell me, if you hadn't had a crisis down there at the ruin tonight, when, exactly, would you have come back?"

"You probably won't believe this, but I've been planning to call you."

"You're right. I don't believe you."

"Do you really think I'm lying to you?"

"How would I know? You fooled me last time."

"I was conducting a security investigation three months ago. It's called working undercover. You were in danger because you were trying to conceal that ruin. If one of the antiquities gangs had discovered the location of the chamber first, you would have ended up as jungle compost, and you know it."

She exhaled deeply. "I've already said that I understand that, as far as you were concerned, you were just doing your job, fulfilling your responsibilities to your company and your family. But please don't tell me that you were doing it for my own good, okay? When I hear that, I see red."

"It's the truth. Look, we were both keeping secrets from each other back then. We both had our own agendas. You were skirting the law, trying to protect your find. Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you."

"Well, the end result is that we got off on the wrong foot, and now it's too late."

He braced one hand against the wall beside the door. "It doesn't have to be too late. You know, you're overlooking one very critical detail here."

"What's that?"

"We've got something important going on between us, some good energy. You can't deny it."

"It's called physical attraction. I'm told it happens between men and women once in a while. Don't worry, it'll pass."

"No," he said, very sure of his ground now. "It's more than physical attraction, at least on my side."

"Well, I do realize there are all those attractive amethyst artifacts sitting in your lab that you'd like rezzed."

"Forget the rocks. I don't care if you never activate a single one of them. This is about you and me. What the hell do I have to do to prove that I'm interested only in you, not your talent?"

Something in his voice seemed to catch her off guard. She frowned.

"Good question," she said finally. "Darned if I know. See, that's the thing about getting off on the wrong foot in a relationship the way we did. I'm not sure there's any way to get back on track."

"Let's find out."

He leaned into the doorway a little. She did not step back. He took that as a good sign. She waited for the kiss, brows slightly crinkled, as though awaiting the outcome of a scientific experiment. Dubious of the results but not resisting. She was willing to allow the test, but if he failed, he was doomed.

He wouldn't fail. That option wasn't even on the table. Not for a Sweetwater; not when it came to something this important.

He kissed her slowly, deliberately; a real first date kind of kiss.

She responded cautiously, but she did respond. Relief followed by a flash of exultation heated his blood and his senses.

Her mouth softened under his. She put her hands on his shoulders. For a few worrisome seconds he thought she was going to push him away. But he could sense the rising heat of her arousal. Knowing that she still responded to him physically gave him an advantage that he fully intended to exploit. He came from a long line of hunters, after all, although his talents were quite different from those of the para-resonators called ghost hunters who joined the Guilds.

He slid one hand around the exquisitely sensitive, incredibly soft skin at the nape of Lyra's neck and drew his thumb along the delicate line of her jaw. She trembled.

Unlike most people on Harmony whose latent psychic talents were evolving rapidly, thanks to something in the environment, the men of the Sweetwater family traced their abilities back to their ancestors on Earth. He had been born to hunt human prey, not alien energy ghosts. But that was not all his talent allowed him to hunt. Sweetwater men recognized their true mates with the same certainty they recognized their true prey. He had known Lyra for who she was the moment he met her—the woman he had been waiting for all of his life. He was a Sweetwater. He would do whatever he had to do in order to make her his own.

For the moment, his senses told him more clearly than words that she still wanted him, at least physically. He could work with that. The trick was to remain in full control of himself and his passions.

Her fingers sank into the fabric of his shirt, tightening. Without warning, a shuddering thrill whipped through him. Memories of all the long nights he had spent working late or restlessly prowling the empty streets of the Old Quarter in an effort to distract himself from thoughts of Lyra slammed through him.

She was in his arms again. That was all that mattered now.

He had been semi-aroused all night, and now he was consumed with a sense of rising urgency. The kiss was unleashing the full force of his own need. It was all he could do not to push through the door and drag Lyra into the bedroom.

The only thing holding him back was the hunter in him. Strategy was everything.

He felt the hot little shivery chills going through her and took another chance. He deepened the kiss, silently willing her to remember how it had been between them. Energy flashed and spiked in the atmosphere. Their auras sparked invisibly around them, testing, teasing, enticing, challenging. He and Lyra were dancing through a warm, iridescent shower of psychic rain.

He heard a low, urgent groan and realized somewhat vaguely that it had come from his own throat. Probably time to stop. He could not afford to lose it, not at this juncture.

Releasing her was the hardest thing he had ever done. All of his instincts were urging him to seize the opportunity to imprint himself on her forever.

But he managed, somehow, to let her go. He took a step back out into the hall. For a moment she just looked at him, her eyes sultry and a little unfocused with desire. Her lips were full and slightly parted. She blinked a couple of times, and then she was back in command of herself and the situation.

"You always were a really good kisser," she said softly.

He was not sure how to take that, but he could not afford to be choosy. Any kind of wanting on her part was better than total rejection.

"Will you let me take you out to dinner tonight?" he said. "We'll make it an early evening, since you're not going to get much sleep this morning."

"I'll think about it. I'm too tired to make a decision now. Call me this afternoon."

She closed the door very gently but firmly in his face.

He stood looking at the closed door for a while, wondering if she was setting him up for a refusal later. When he realized he could not decide, he went back downstairs and headed home.