Jayne Castle - Obsidian Prey

Jeff looked at the three paintings hanging on the wall. "Those are the pictures that you're putting on the block tonight?"

"That's right," Nancy said. "They're by a very hot new artist named Chimera. I'm expecting all three to go for top dollar."

"Huh," Jeff said. "If you ask me, Vincent can paint as good as that Chimera guy."

Cruz studied the paintings. "You know what? I think you're right."

Lyra exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Nancy. Some things were a little too complicated to explain in a short period of time, especially to a couple of men who were in the security business. In addition, there was no way to know quite how Cruz and Jeff would view the facts of the situation, given the strict Sweetwater code.

She put on a breezy smile.

"That only goes to show how much you two know about modern art," she said. "It's all in the eye of the beholder, remember?"

"A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLAR S." LYRA TUCKED VINCENT under one arm and drew her key out of her small black clutch. "I still can't believe it. A hundred grand for those three pictures, thanks to Mr. Anonymous. That dear, sweet man. I can't believe the way he kept upping the bid on the phone."

Cruz took the key from her to unlock her door. "Nothing like auction fever setting in to drive up the price."

"I know, but one hundred thousand hot smackaroos," she said, unable to contain her glee. "Nancy didn't think she'd get anywhere near that much for the pictures. Do you realize what this means?"

Nancy had been giddy after the auction. Jeff had invited her to a nearby tavern for a celebratory drink. She had not needed a second invitation.

"There's a standard split at art auctions," Cruz said. "A certain percentage goes to the seller, in this case, the artist. The gallery takes a hefty commission."

"Right, the artist." Lyra kissed Vincent's furry little head and plopped him on her shoulder. "He gets his cut, of course." As many cookies as he wants for the rest of his life, she thought. She moved briskly through the doorway. "But Nancy and I are splitting the commission, since I'm the one who introduced the artist to her. My share will be more than enough to pay off that dumb-ass lawyer. I'll even have enough left over to get my car fixed, pay off my debts, and buy some new furniture."

Cruz followed her through the doorway. "Let the good times roll."

He sounded amused. She rezzed a light and turned to look at him. He had worn formal black for the auction, once again the well-dressed assassin. His presence had been quickly noted by the other attendees.

"It was very kind of you to make that first bid," Lyra said. "It gave the whole event a lot of cachet. Once the others knew a Sweetwater was interested, they couldn't wait to start bidding."

"Glad I could get things rolling." He shrugged out of his black jacket and dropped it over the back of the reading chair the way he always did. Making himself at home. "Is there any of my Amber Dew left?" he asked, unknotting his tie.

A frisson of intimacy flickered across her senses. Once again they were acting like any other intimate couple after an evening out, although this particular evening out had begun with getting kidnapped by a crazy guru.

Given all the excitement, she should have anticipated that Cruz would insist on sticking around for the main event, the auction. His presence had made both Nancy and her nervous at first, in spite of the beneficial effect on the bidding. But after a while it became clear that he did not recognize the three paintings as Vincent's work. That was modern art for you, she thought happily. No one could tell the difference between a picture done by a human artist and one done by a dust bunny.

"I think of it as my Amber Dew, but the answer is yes," she said lightly. She set Vincent on the counter, opened the lid of the quartz jar, and took out a cookie. She gave the treat to Vincent and then headed for the bedroom to slip off her heels. "I wonder who he is," she said through the opaque screens.

A cupboard door opened in the kitchen. Glasses clinked.

"Who?" Cruz asked.

"The anonymous bidder." She walked out of the bedroom barefoot. "The one who got the three paintings."

Cruz came around the counter and handed one of the glasses to her. "Obviously someone who has expensive taste in modern art."

She raised her glass. "Here's to Mr. Anonymous. May he continue to collect modern art for decades to come."

Cruz touched his glass to hers. "To Chimera."

She managed, just barely, to avoid glancing at Vincent.

"To Chimera," she said smoothly. She raised the glass to her lips.

"And to us," Cruz added before she could take a sip.

She hesitated, searching for any and all possible traps. But, really, where was the harm in acknowledging their affair?

"Okay," she said.

"Nothing like a little enthusiasm in a woman," Cruz said.

She smiled. "To us."

They each took a sip. Cruz touched her lips with one finger.

"You are one of the gutsiest people I've ever met," he said gently. "Why are you so afraid of what's between us?"

"I'm not afraid," she said. "Oops. Almost forgot. There's something I've been meaning to do ever since we got out of the tunnels this afternoon."

She put the glass of Amber Dew on the counter, crossed the room to the coffee table, and picked up the vase of purple orchids.

"What are you going to do with those?" Cruz asked.

"Dump them in the garbage." She went into the kitchen and used the foot pedal to raise the lid of the trash can. She crammed the orchids inside and let the lid slam closed. "So much for modern romance."

"Quinn really called you his chosen bride?"

"Oh, yeah. Said we were destined to rule together with the power of the pyramids, or something quaint along those lines." She picked up her glass and went back across the room to the sofa. She sat down and propped her bare feet on the coffee table. "But you came back and ruined everything. Don't you dare laugh."

"Believe me, I'm not laughing. Got a hunch the bastard was going to kill you after you tuned the stones for him, though. I could feel his intent when I saw him with you in the chamber."

"Sadly, it turned out that I wasn't quite what he wanted in the way of a bride."

Cruz crossed the room and sank down beside her. "You're everything I want."

A shiver went through her.

"Cruz—"

"You are afraid to give us a second chance. Admit it."

She drank some of the liqueur. "The Dore luck, you know. Just can't depend on it."

His jaw tightened. "The Sweetwater luck doesn't seem to be working real well at the moment, either."

She stopped smiling. "Did you really think it would be that easy, Cruz?"

"No, I knew there would be a price to pay. I wouldn't have come here if I hadn't been prepared to pay it." He contemplated the liquid in his glass. "Which reminds me, I think the time has come to tell you a little more about my family."

She chuckled. "Okay, now you're starting to make me really nervous."

He did not say anything. Instead, he removed his shoes and put his feet up on the table beside hers.

She looked down and noticed the bottom edge of the leather knife sheath showing just below the cuff of his trousers. Her mouth went dry.

"And exactly why do you feel it necessary to have this conversation?" she asked.

"I'm serious about us. You and me. I'm hoping for a future together. That means you have a right to know everything."

"Is this some more of the dark family secret thing?" she asked warily.

"Yes," he said and lowered the glass. "I told you that my family has a long history in the security field."

She put her own glass down on the table. "You did mention the old family business. Out of pure curiosity, why was Big Jake so determined to get out of that line of work, anyway? Sounds like Sweetwaters had been successful in it for a few hundred years."