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Джейн Кренц: Amaryllis

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A gifted psychic detective on the abandoned Earth colony of St. Helen's, Amaryllis Lark follows a high-profile murder investigation and finds herself in the middle of a steamy love affair with business head Lucas Trent.

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Amaryllis

By Jayne Castle

St. Helen's-1

1996

Chapter 1

"Damn it, I don't need a conscience, Miss Lark." Lucas Trent eyed the woman seated behind the desk with grim determination. "I need a security expert."

"Our company believes that the two are not incompatible," the lady said coolly.

She was starting to irritate him already, Lucas thought. And it was unlikely that the situation would improve. Unfortunately, he needed her.

Her name was Amaryllis Lark and she worked for Psynergy, Inc. Lucas knew that, while he could do business with her, she was potentially very dangerous.

But you'd never know it to look at her, he thought.

She had green-gold eyes and hair the color of dark amber. Approximately thirty seconds after meeting her, Lucas concluded that she was the most interesting thing he had encountered since he had blundered into a cave full of mysterious relics in the Western Islands.

He was baffled by his own reaction. It was obvious that Amaryllis was, in her own way, as alien to him as the ancient artifacts. She was prim, proper, and down right prissy. She looked as if she could have modeled for a statue of one of the heroic, determined, and excruciatingly upright founders.

The expression in her green-gold eyes was perceptive, intelligent, and vaguely disapproving. The rich, thick, amber hair was bound in a prim knot at the nape of her neck. The neatly buttoned jacket of a conservative little business suit concealed whatever curves were beneath the fabric. A discreetly flared, calf-length skirt hid the rest of what appeared to be a slender figure and, judging by the trim ankles, nicely shaped legs.

Lucas had a strong suspicion that Amaryllis was stuffed to her pretty eyeballs with a host of old-fashioned, boring, and very inconvenient virtues.

Definitely not his type.

But that was not the worst of it. He was accustomed to taking challenges in his stride, after all. He might have persuaded himself to tackle this one, too, if it had not been for the fact that she worked for Psynergy, Inc.

Lucas exhaled deeply and forced himself to concentrate on the reason he was here in Amaryllis's extremely well organized, highly functional office.

He got to his feet and planted his hands on the unnaturally neat desk and leaned forward just far enough to ensure that he had the lady's full attention.

"I was told that Psynergy, Inc. was one of the best companies in the business."

"I assure you that it is, Mr. Trent." Amaryllis's feathery brows snapped together above her very straight nose. "It is also a company that maintains the highest professional standards. We do not take just any sort of case, and that is why I am obliged to ask certain questions. If you don't care to answer, that is your affair. But don't expect me to work with you without first ascertaining that you are a suitable client."

"Suitable?" Lucas set his teeth and willed his simmering irritation to stay below full boil. "I'm Lucas Trent, president of Lodestar Exploration. I've got unlimited lines of credit with every bank in New Seattle. I can call the mayor's office and get Her Honor to vouch for me. Hell, I can call the city-state governor's office for that matter. Damn it, what more do you need to know?"

"I know who you are, Mr. Trent." Something that might have been genuine excitement sparked in her eyes. "Everyone in New Seattle knows who you are." She lowered her gaze and made a small show of shuffling the forms that lay on the desk in front of her. "I'm quite satisfied that you can afford our fees."

She was blushing.

Lucas was stunned by the sight of the unmistakable tint of pink on Amaryllis's high cheekbones. The prissy little founder was actually blushing.

He looked down at his big, scarred, calloused hands which were still flattened on the desk. He was suddenly very conscious of Amaryllis's elegant, neatly manicured fingers. The clear polish on her short nails caught his eye. He noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring.

Lucas gave his brain a mental shake in an effort to override his basic masculine response to Amaryllis's blush. He did not date women who were endowed with her particular psychic abilities. He had enough problems.

Amaryllis was a highly trained prism. She had no true paranormal talents, as Lucas did, but she had the unique ability and the professional training to help people with psychic powers focus their otherwise erratic and unpredictable gifts.

It was a fact of life that even the strongest talent was helpless to utilize his or her abilities for more than a few seconds without the assistance of an equally strong prism.

The world being what it was, the economics of supply and demand pretty much guaranteed that powerful, well-trained prisms enjoyed a generous annual income.

"If you're satisfied that I can pay my bills," Lucas said, "Why all the questions? I thought you folks were running a business here."

"The matter of our fees is only one of the issues with which we here at Psynergy, Inc. are concerned." The blush faded from Amaryllis's cheeks. She gave Lucas a gratingly professional smile. "It's not even the most important matter, as I'm sure you're well aware."

"Yeah. Sure." Lucas stifled a groan and straightened away from the desk. He flexed his hands as he stalked across the small office to the window. He had known this would not be easy. He came to a halt and gazed unseeingly at the busy street three floors below.

It was mid morning and the city was humming. The discordant melody produced by traffic, dockside activity, and people bustling to and fro was a pleasant tune in Lucas's opinion. It had the lively beat of a booming economy and the exuberant lilt of a community that looked to the future with anticipation. New Seattle had not always sung such an enthusiastic song. Nor had it's sister city-states, New Portland and New Vancouver.

A large percentage of the colonists who had been stranded on St. Helens shortly after the planet had been discovered two hundred years earlier had been from a region on Earth known as the Pacific Northwest. When they had found themselves alone, cut off forever from their home world, the settlers had done what colonists had always done down through the ages. They had named their new communities after the cities and towns that they would never see again. Today the city-states of New Seattle, New Portland, and New Vancouver formed a thriving, but still fragile, necklace of civilization along the edge of the western coast of St. Helens's largest continent.

The sophisticated Earth-based technology the colonists had brought with them had disintegrated within months after the newcomers had been stranded. St. Helens had welcomed the new life-forms, but it had refused to accept the alien machines they had depended upon. Rustproof alloys had turned to dust in a matter of weeks. Plastics that were virtually indestructible on Earth had dissolved in St. Helens's otherwise hospitable atmosphere. In the end, nothing manufactured on the home world had survived. St. Helens had demanded that the newcomers adapt to the local environment or die.

The colonists had adapted, but it had not been easy. They had finally managed to get a toehold on their new world, learned to utilize native metals and materials, but the effort had cost a great deal, including the loss of several generations' worth of science and technology.

The history books informed the descendants of the founders that their modern machines and their science were both primitive by the standards of the home world. But the reality was that the ways of Earth were of academic interest at best to the current generation.

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