Silver Master

Chapter 33

SHORTLY BEFORE MIDNIGHT, DAVIS CLOSED THE CADENCE City directory and dropped it on the floor beside the sofa. He leaned back, stretched out his legs, and looked at Celinda.

“Who the hell knew there were so many people running around claiming to be experts in various forms of psi therapy?” he said.

She put down the pad of paper she had been using to take notes. The task of sorting through the list of practitioners in the directory in an attempt to pick out the mysterious Dr. Hollings had not been successful.

The balcony door was partially open. Max and Araminta were outside on the railing. They were sitting very close together, taking in the night. A few minutes ago Max had come inside long enough to fetch another cookie for Araminta.

Glumly she eyed what she had written.

“From the looks of it, most of them are self-proclaimed therapists and counselors,” she said. “The number with genuine parapsych degrees of one kind or another after their names is only a small subset.”

“The problem is that the city-states don’t have any laws dictating who can hang out a shingle calling himself a therapist or a counselor.” He picked up her list. “We’ve got everything from shady gurus to full-fledged doctors of para-psychiatry here.” He frowned at one of the names she had written. “What the hell is a psychic lifestyle counselor, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s nice to know there are some out there in case I ever need one.”

He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, thinking. “None of the people on that list jumps out at me. Got a feeling our man doesn’t advertise in the phone book.”

She considered that. “It wouldn’t be surprising, not if he’s going after a high-end clientele. Promises, Inc., doesn’t advertise, either. We work strictly by referral.”

“Referral,” Davis repeated. He raised his lashes halfway, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’ll bet your competitors know who you are, though, don’t they?”

“Definitely.” She was unable to suppress a twinge of pride. “Everyone in the matchmaking business here in Cadence is well aware of Promises, Inc.”

“Maybe the way to find Hollings is to talk to some of his competitors.”

The psi energy of the hunter was pulsing strongly in him. He was running on adrenaline, she thought. Whether he realized it or not, he had not completely recovered from the heavy psi burn in the ruins.

“There’s nothing more you can do tonight,” she said. “You need sleep, Davis.”

“I’m too rezzed up to sleep. I’m closing in on him; I can feel it.”

“All the more reason why you should rest.” She got to her feet and held out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

Instead of coming up off the sofa, he captured her wrist in his hand and tumbled her down onto his lap.

“Got a better idea,” he said.

He kissed her before she could offer a protest. She did not require her psi senses to realize that he was more than just restless and edgy; he was as hard as quartz. The adrenaline and testosterone bio-cocktail that had aroused all of his hunter’s senses was having some predictable side effects.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Holding her locked in the embrace, he reached out and de-rezzed the lamp on the end table beside the sofa. The living room was plunged into deep shadows.

Turning, he stretched her out on the sofa beneath him, peeling off her clothes with quick, urgent motions. Sensual psi flared hotly in the darkness. Her own senses quickened in response. She could feel the rush of sexual hunger that was heating his blood. It burned through her, as well, creating an urgent ache deep inside. A moment ago she had been intent only on getting him into bed. Now all she could think about was getting him inside her.

Invisible energy sparked and flashed between them. He got her blouse open and went to work on the waistband of her trousers. She managed to unfasten his shirt, put her arms around him, and stroke the warm, tight skin of his muscled back. He unbuckled his belt and got rid of his trousers and briefs in a couple more swift, efficient moves.

She reached down between them with one hand and curled her fingers around his rigid length. He made a sound that was part groan and part hungry growl.

The next thing she knew, he had pushed up her knees and slid halfway down the length of her body. When she felt his mouth on her, she gasped, half-shocked and wholly thrilled. She sank her fingers into his hair.

The glorious, glittering, throbbing release hit her like a blast of high-powered alien psi, rocking all of her senses. She grabbed one of the pillows and slapped it over her mouth to stifle her thin, high shriek.

Davis surged back up her body and buried himself inside her. It was an act of possession and desperate need. He yanked the pillow away from her face and kissed her throat. His thrusts were heavy and powerful and fast.

A moment later he raised his head. Every muscle in his body was tensed as though he was some great, wild beast about to bring down prey with a killing blow.

His climax struck hard. She put her hands around his neck, pulled his face down, and kissed him, swallowing his roar of satisfaction.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the sofa cushions.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against her breast. “I could come just by looking at you.”

She smiled into the shadows, trailing her fingertips along his damp skin. “More fun this way, though.”

“Oh, yeah.” He did not open his eyes.

She edged herself out from beneath his crushing weight and tugged on his arm.

“Come on, Davis. It’s time to go to bed.”

“I’ll just sleep here,” he muttered into the pillow.

“No. You need a good night’s sleep. You won’t get that here on the sofa. It’s too small for you.”

“What about you? Where will you sleep?”

Most of the languid satisfaction she had been savoring faded. I prefer to sleep alone. Don’t take it personally.

“I’ll use the sofa again tonight,” she said. “It works fine for me.”

Grumbling, he rolled off the cushions and allowed her to steer him down the hall to the darkened bedroom. She pulled back the covers. He fell into bed, closed his eyes, and was instantly asleep.

She pulled the sheet and quilt up over him and went back into the living room to the open balcony door. She spoke softly to Max and Araminta.

“Are you two coming in tonight?” she asked.

They hopped down off the balcony and tumbled into the apartment. She closed the door and locked it very carefully. She checked the cookie jar one last time to make certain the relic was still safely stashed inside, and then she went to the hall closet, took out a pillow and a blanket, and arranged them on the sofa.

For a long time she lay there looking up at the ceiling, Araminta a heavy little bundle of lint beside her.

“The thing is, I do take it personally,” she said to Araminta.

Araminta opened her baby-blue eyes and blinked a couple of times.

Celinda gave it ten more minutes before she pushed aside the blanket, got up from the sofa, and went down the hall to the bedroom. Davis was sleeping so soundly when she got into bed beside him that he never even stirred

HE CAME AWAKE TO THE SENSATION OF A HAND ON HIS shoulder.

“Wake up,” Celinda said. “You’re dreaming.”

He opened his eyes and saw that a pale dawn light was replacing the green glow of night outside the window.

He looked at Celinda. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my bed, remember?”

“You slept on the sofa.”

“Changed my mind. By the way, you will notice that I’m not screaming.”

“What the hell?” Still dazed with sleep, he levered himself up on his elbows.

She glanced down. He followed her gaze. His forearm from elbow to wrist was invisible. The fingers of his seemingly unattached hand gripped the rumpled sheet.

She held out her own hand, palm up. “You owe me ten bucks.”