She could not argue with that statement.
'I realize that,' she admitted.
'When the exotic talents in question belong to hunters, the fear factor is multiplied several times over,' he said.
'Okay, I get that. The Guilds have enough public relations problems as it is. I can see why the organizations prefer not to advertise a lot of unusual para-rez talents.'
'I'll let you in on another little secret. The Guild researchers have reluctantly concluded that alien psi can theoretically be pulled from any point along the spectrum of paranormal energy.'
She stopped beside her car and dug out her key. 'Why reluctantly?'
He opened the door for her. 'Turns out that each band of psi light has its own distinctive properties. But no one has been able to chart the full range of the spectrum, let alone the various properties of all the individual bands.'
'And some are bound to be very dangerous. Is that it?'
'All psi energy is power.'
'And all power is potentially dangerous.'
His brows rose. 'Or useful, depending on your point of view. At this point, there are a lot of unknowns. Until we have more answers, the Guilds intend to keep their secrets.'
She slipped into the front seat of the Float. He handed Elvis to her and closed the door. She lowered the window, uncertain what came next. How did you say a casual good night to the man you just married?
'Well, good night,' she said politely.
'I'll follow you back to your apartment,' he said.
'That won't be necessary.'
'Sure it is. You'll want to pack a suitcase.'
She stilled. 'I beg your pardon?'
'You're spending the night at my house. I assume you'll need a few things.'
It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere and replaced with pure psi. She felt lightheaded.
She managed to rally. 'Look here, Fontana, if you think for one minute that fake wedding ceremony gives you any marital rights or that I'm interested in finding out if the rumors about hunters who are in the grip of an afterburn are true, you've got another thought coming.'
He raised his brows slightly. 'What rumors would those be?'
'Forget it.' She bristled. 'I'm not going there. This is supposed to be a business partnership, remember?'
He rested one hand on the roof of the Float.
She started to get nervous. Her sixth sense wasn't picking up any menacing vibes, but there was some serious energy in the atmosphere, and it wasn't alien psi.
'We're supposed to be married,' he said calmly. 'We've got lots of witnesses, thanks to you, and tomorrow morning we're going to be all over the
'So? That was the plan.'
'The plan isn't going to work very well if you insist on separate quarters,' he said patiently.
Why hadn't she considered this aspect of the situation a little more closely? Because she had been rushing around madly all day, that was why. Fontana had given her very little time to think. In hindsight, that had probably not been an accident. He had subtly but deliberately taken charge of their relationship. But, then, that's what Guild bosses did. They took command.
'I don't care how it looks in the media,' she said, going for stubborn. 'So there's gossip about our relationship? So what? You said the main point was to make certain that everyone knew that I was your wife.'
'I don't give a damn about the gossip. After that incident with the Riders this afternoon, we have to assume that not all of the bad actors are inside the organization.'
Jolted, she stared up at him. 'You think those guys who attacked me are somehow connected to the conspiracy?'
'I think we have to assume it's a reasonable possibility. Who else have you managed to piss off lately besides Jenner?' he asked.
She swallowed hard. 'Not the Riders. I've never done a story on them. The management of Underworld Exploration wasn't too happy when I exposed their shady business ties with the Guild, but they complained the old-fashioned way. Their lawyers threatened to sue the paper. I can't see a big company like that hiring a bunch of low-life gang members to get rid of one measly little tabloid reporter.'
'I think you're in more trouble than you realize. Until we know what's going on, you won't be spending the night alone.'
'Why your place?' she muttered.
'You'll be safer at my house. I installed a state-of-the-art ambertronics security system shortly after I bought it last month. No one can even get on the grounds without triggering the alarms.'
She thought about the strange restlessness that had kept her awake last night. Her intuition had told her that someone was watching. Her intuition was usually right. Maybe the Riders had been stalking her.
She made her decision.
'You're right,' she said, rezzing the Float's little flash-rock engine. 'I need to pick up a few things at my place.'
Chapter 8
SHE EMERGED FROM THE BEDROOM, AN OVERNIGHT CASE in her hand, and found Fontana studying the miniature star dressing room on the coffee table. He looked deeply intrigued.
'Where did you get this?' he asked.
'An ex-hunter named Jake Tanner built it for Elvis. Poor Jake is a juice addict who lives in an alley a few blocks from here. When he's not in a juice dream, he makes the most amazing miniatures out of discarded items and materials that he scrounges from garbage bins. Elvis's dressing room is his latest masterpiece.'
'It's incredible.'
She smiled. 'Yes, it is.'
The dressing room was a marvelously detailed work of art. The walls stood some ten inches high. There was no ceiling, so you looked straight down into it.
The room was complete, right down to the dressing table covered in red velvet and the mirror surrounded by tiny lights. There was also a little guitar. The walls were paneled and set with hooks designed to hold the costumes that Jake had made for Elvis. In addition to his sparkling white cape, there was a short-sleeved shirt printed with exotic tropical flowers. A tiny lei hung next to the tropical shirt.
Elvis popped into the dressing room using the little door. He puttered about briefly, checking to be sure that nothing had changed since he had left it. Satisfied, he came back out and chortled at Sierra.
'The guitar actually works,' Sierra said. 'Listen.'
She reached down into the dressing room and used her fingertip to pluck one of the strings on the small instrument. There was a faint but distinct twang.
Fontana smiled. 'Amazing.'
She straightened and tightened her grip on the handle of the rolling suitcase.
'I'm ready,' she said.
'You don't have to look as though you're going to a funeral.'
'Sorry. It's been a long day. I'm exhausted.'
He took the suitcase from her and went toward the door. She picked up Elvis and followed.
'So, are you going to work out or something?' she asked, trying to sound casually unconcerned.
'At this hour of the night? I don't think so.'
