badly.
There was no sound from the inner office. Celinda prayed that meant that Miss Allonby had gone into her own office to call for help.
“You’re a hunter,” Celinda said. She was shivering, but she managed to keep her tone calm and steady. She had to give Miss Allonby time. “A very powerful hunter, it’s true, but you don’t have the kind of psychic talent it takes to manipulate the relic.”
“Not a problem. Hollings will work it for me until I locate others who can do what he can. That shouldn’t be hard. I’ve got the resources of the Guild behind me. Once I’ve replaced Hollings, I’ll get rid of him. Don’t trust the slippery bastard.”
“That plan sounds a little shaky, if you ask me.”
“I don’t want your opinion.” His eyes sparked with rage. “All I want from you is the other relic.”
“Why would I give it to you?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’ll kill me anyway once you have the relic.”
“True.” He smiled slowly. “But there are different ways to die. Fast and slow. You’re lucky. You’ve got a choice.”
“You think the local Guild won’t notice that something happened to me?”
“There won’t be any evidence. You’ll commit suicide by walking off into the rain forest without tuned amber. If anyone does eventually find your body, there won’t be anything left of it except bare bones. The jungle is like the Guild, you see. It takes care of its own problems.”
“You’re forgetting one very important factor. Davis Oakes.”
“Oakes is a dead man. Hollings will take care of him with the relic.”
“Don’t count on it,” she said tightly.
“The relic is very powerful when it’s used belowground. Hollings won’t have any trouble dealing with Oakes.”
A figure moved in the doorway. Celinda saw Miss Allonby standing there, a trancelike expression on her face. She did not appear to notice the gun in Landry’s hand.
“I’m afraid both of you will have to come back some other time,” she said, severely polite. “I have to burn Dr. Kennington’s papers now. He left strict instructions.”
Landry scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Dr. Kennington was very clear,” she said primly. “He told me that if anyone tried to harm him or take him away, I was to burn his papers immediately.”
“Ghost-shit,” Landry said, suddenly comprehending. “His research. You can’t destroy those papers, you stupid woman. I’m going to need them after I get rid of him.”
Miss Allonby stopped long enough to give him a stern look. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Take one more step, and I’ll kill you.”
Miss Allonby drew herself up proudly. “I’ll have you know I am a professional. I would not dream of failing to execute my responsibilities.”
“Stop, you stupid bitch,” Landry bellowed.
Miss Allonby tut-tutted. “Language, sir. Language.”
Landry started to aim the mag-rez gun at her. Celinda readied herself to spring at him. She would go for his gun arm, she thought. It wasn’t much of a chance, but it looked like the only one she was going to get.
As if he had read her mind, Landry hesitated. Then he took two steps forward, hooked an arm around her throat, and dragged her hard against his body.
She gasped for air. He was half-strangling her, but she did have physical contact. Struggling to breathe, she opened her senses to the sick tide of psi energy that pounded at her and began to probe delicately.
Certain that he had her under control, Landry concentrated on Miss Allonby.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“You are not my employer, sir,” Miss Allonby informed him. She turned her back to him and started to walk into the office.
Crushed against him, wide open to his psi patterns, Celinda was intensely aware of the slight jump in tension as Landry prepared to pull the trigger. He was taking his time, hesitating just a bit. Probably worried that someone outside in the street would hear the shot, she thought. Whatever the case, it gave her a precious few instants of time. She had one advantage. She knew Landry’s energy patterns all too well. She still encountered them in her nightmares.
The roaring pulses of cold, crazy rage were shatteringly clear on the paranormal plane. The problem was that the pattern was so frighteningly abnormal. Desperately she tried to establish a counterpoint rhythm capable of dampening the most violent psi waves.
She knew she was having a measure of success when she opened her eyes and saw that Miss Allonby had disappeared into the office. Landry had not pulled the trigger.
“What’s happening?” His hand tightened around her throat. “What are you doing to me? I can’t rez the trigger.”
She did not even try to answer. All her concentration was on disrupting his energy rhythms.
He started to shake. Still pinned against him, she could feel the tremors going through his body, just like that night when he had tried to rape her. On the psychic plane, all was chaos. She heard the gun clatter on the floor.
Landry shouted something. He sounded terrified. Abruptly he released her, spinning away from her. His breath came in great, gulping gasps.
“Don’t touch me,” he screamed. “Get away from me. You’re doing something to me. I can feel it.”
Crouching, she scooped up the mag-rez gun, gripping it in both hands.
Landry stared at her, shocked and enraged. Now that they were no longer in physical contact, he was already recovering.
He looked at the gun in her hand and uttered a derisive laugh. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?”
“Shoot you,” she said.
“Not a chance. You don’t have the nerve. Besides, there’s no way a stupid little bitch like you would know how to use a mag-rez.”
She lowered the barrel of the gun, aiming at a point just in front of his boots, and rezzed the trigger.
The shot roared like thunder in the small room. Landry jumped back and then stared, stunned, at the hole in the floor where the bullet had plowed into the two-hundred-year-old wood.
Celinda raised the barrel of the gun so that it once again pointed at his midsection. “As you can see, I’ve been practicing. I’ve waited for this moment for a long time, Landry.”
He must have read her intention in her eyes, because his face went oddly slack with fear.
“No, wait,” he whispered. “You can’t do this—”
There was a sound from the office doorway behind her.
“I think we can let the Guild deal with him now,” Davis said quietly.
“I haven’t noticed that it has been able to do that very well,” she said. She did not take her eyes or the gun off Landry.
“It will this time,” Davis said, moving up to stand beside her. He held out his hand. “You have my word on it.”
She flicked a glance at him, uncertain.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said. “Trust me; once you’ve done it, you can’t ever forget it. Landry’s not worth the psychic burn.”
“But I have to be sure. I can’t let that bastard threaten my family ever again.”
“He won’t,” Davis said. “I know you don’t buy the old saying, but the Guild really does police its own.”
Chapter 40
