Jayne Castle: After Glow

"No offense, but Wyatt seems to be off to a rather poor start, what with nearly getting himself murdered this morning." She blew her nose into a tissue. "That sort of thing isn't good for the professional image, you know. Tends to make people think in terms of gangland feuds and mob boss rivalries."

He said nothing. He had no more arguments to give her.

She sniffled again, blotted up the last of her tears, and wadded up the tissue. "You're supposed to be a business consultant now, Emmett."

"I am a business consultant. As far as I'm concerned this job with the Guild is just that, a short-term consulting position."

"If you go back into the Guild, you may not get out a second time."

Very deliberately he took his hands off her shoulders. "And if I return to the Guild, you'll end our relationship? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

" No ." She whirled around, eyes glittering with sudden fury and outrage. "I'm trying to tell you that the idea of you running the Cadence Guild, even for a few weeks, scares me more than all the illusion traps and energy ghosts in the Dead City, that's what I'm trying to tell you."

He felt his own temper start to slip. "Does the thought of sleeping with a Guild boss offend your delicate sensibilities so much? I figured that you and I had something more going on than just a casual fling."

"Don't act dense."

"Sorry, but it's not an act. I feel dense at the moment. I'm also real tired of playing guessing games. Why don't you tell me exactly why you're crying? Keep it simple. Short sentences and no more than two syllables, okay? After all, I'm a hunter, remember? I don't do big words."

"Fine," She threw up her hands. "You want to know why I'm crying? I'm crying because I'm terrified that if you take Mercer Wyatt's position, whoever tried to murder him last night will try to get rid of you, too. I'm scared to death that if you take over the Cadence Guild, you'll be putting yourself in grave danger." Tears welled up in her eyes once more. "And I can't bear to think about what I would do if you got hurt or worse."

He stared, dumbfounded, at the fresh tears running down her face. "That's why you're so upset? You think whoever went after Wyatt will come after me?"

She swiped her eyes with her sleeve and nodded mutely.

"Ah, honey."

He stopped, not sure how to proceed. He had been braced to hear her tell him that she would break off their relationship if he took over the Guild. He had been so intently focused on arguments designed to convince her to tolerate the situation for a short period of time that he could not wrap his brain around this other thing. She had dissolved into a puddle because she feared for his safety?

He could not recall the last time anyone had been overly concerned about his health and well-being. Back in Resonance it was understood that he could take care of himself.

Admittedly, over the years he had managed to reduce a couple of previous lovers to tears but the aggrieved parties had always made it clear that the reason was the usual masculine sin of failing to understand and respond properly to a woman's needs. None of those old lovers had ever cried because she was concerned that he might get hurt or killed.

Relief and a strange sense of satisfaction surged through him. Lydia was worried about him.

"It's okay," he said. "There's no reason to be concerned about me. What happened to Wyatt looks like something personal, not Guild politics."

"Is that right?" She turned away to grab another handful of tissues. "How do you know that?"

"I'll explain later. Right now I've got something more important to do."

She dabbed a few more tears and glowered at him over her shoulder. "Such as?"

He smiled slowly and reached out to pull her back into his arms.

"Such as this," he said.

He caught her face in both hands and raised her mouth to his. She stiffened. And then, with a soft, muffled cry, she practically leaped on him, wrapping her arms very tightly around his neck, holding on as if she was afraid that he would slip away from her.

"Emmett."

Everything in him went from zero to full-rez in a rush. Desire swept through him, heating his blood and making him heavy and restless with need.

He had intended a gentle, soothing embrace, a few cuddles and kisses designed to calm her and reassure her. But her sudden, impassioned response sent any gentlemanly plans he might have had up in smoke.

"Okay, this works, too," he whispered against her throat.

He pulled her with him down onto the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fuzz tumble off the windowsill and scamper across the carpet. The little ball of dryer lint drifted out of the bedroom and disappeared discreetly down the hall. Probably embarrassed him, Emmett thought.

He turned his attention back to Lydia, who had landed on top of him and was straddling his thighs. The position had forced her skirt high above her knees.

"Promise me you'll be careful." She unbuckled his belt.

"I'll be careful."

She unfastened his shirt. "Promise me you won't take any chances."

Acid green ghost light danced at the edge of his vision. It winked out quickly only to be followed by another shower of sparkling energy. Flickers , he thought; the little flashes of unstable dissonance energy often appeared when he and Lydia made love.

Psi energy leaked and whispered out of small cracks, hidden openings, and invisible vents in the ancient green quartz walls that surrounded the ruins in this part of town. Often, when he found himself highly aroused with Lydia the wavelengths of his sexual energy resonated with the stuff. The result was the small bursts of harmless ghost light that winked out as quickly as they appeared.

"Right," he muttered, crumpling her skirt up around her waist. He touched the crotch of her panties. She was already damp. Satisfaction roared through him. "No chances." Except with you , he added silently. Loving Lydia was far and away the biggest risk he had ever taken.

She released him from the prison of his zipper. Her fingers slid along the underside of that part of him that was now rock hard. When she cupped him he stopped breathing for a few seconds.

She flattened herself on top of him, threading her fingers through the hair on his chest and kissing him with her mouth open.

Energy stirred and shimmered in the air around them. Not ghost light, just a frisson of sensation. Lydia was the source this time, he realized, although he didn't think she was aware of the invisible currents shifting across the bed.

She was an ephemeral-energy para-resonator, otherwise known as an illusion trap tangler. Her para-talents took a different form than his own. She could not summon ghost light, but she could de-rez the dangerous snares of illusion shadow that the long-vanished aliens had left behind to guard their secrets in the ruins. She was the best tangler he had ever worked with, he thought. When it came to wielding raw psi power she was, in her own way, as strong as he was.

She slithered down his body, touching him with the tip of her tongue at various points along the way. He realized where she was headed and knew that if he didn't gain control of the situation he would lose it before he got to his own favorite destination.

He rolled her onto her back. With a few efficient moves he got himself out of his pants and shoes. When he came down on top of her, anticipation had seared away all coherent thought.

He unfastened her jacket and then her blouse and took one sweet, ripe nipple between his teeth.

Her eyes were bottomless pools of intense blue by the time he had finished undressing her. He bent his head and kissed her until she was shifting and twisting beneath him, until she moaned. The soft sound of her need was the sweetest music he had ever heard.