Her cozy little house had never appeared so warm and safe and welcoming.
When the door of the limo opened, she saw that Lucas's leer was parked at the curb. He was leaning against the fender, arms folded across his chest.
'Ms. Lark?' Sheffield put his hand on her arm. 'Remember what I said. I offer you a future of selfless public service. The governor's chair is only a stop along the way. One day I shall be president of the United City-states. You can be at my side when that day comes. Not only as my prism but as my wife.'
'Your
'Why not?' Sheffield smiled coolly. 'Think about it. You were born a bastard, Ms. Lark. I can make you the wife of the president. I offer you the opportunity to rise above all the shame and humiliation your family suffered because of your birth.'
Amaryllis flew out of the limo. She ran to Lucas, who opened his arms and folded her close.
She buried her face against his shoulder as the long, pale limousine snaked off into the distance.
'That does it. Sheffield has gone too far.' Lucas stood in front of the jelly-ice fire and gazed into the flames. He had to work hard to conceal the depths of his anger from Amaryllis. He was afraid it would alarm her to know just how furious he was.
Sheffield had tried his own perverted brand of seduction on Amaryllis, and he had been unforgivably shrewd about it. He had been clever enough to appeal to the core of indomitable virtue that was so much a part of her.
'It's all right, Lucas.' Amaryllis was curled in the corner of the sofa, her feet tucked under her. 'I told him that I had no intention of going to work for him.'
'I should have guessed that sooner or later Sheffield would come after you. There aren't that many prisms who can handle a class-nine or ten talent, let alone one who is off the scale.'
'Gifford told him about me.'
'Osterley has probably run through every full-spectrum prism on his own staff trying to satisfy Sheffield.'
'Yes. Lucas, this is growing more difficult at every turn. Sheffield is obviously bound and determined to use his talent to get to the governor's chair and eventually to the presidency. He gave me a pious speech about wanting to employ his gifts with the ethical guidance of a trained prism. But if he actually had any ethics of his own, he would never have used his talent the way we've seen him use it.'
'I don't give a damn about his ethics,' Lucas said. 'He's a politician. But he sure as hell had better not scoop you up in the back of that white limousine again.'
'He won't. Forget his designs on me. I can deal with him. The real question is, do you think he might have murdered Professor Landreth?'
'What?' Lucas swung swiftly around to face her.
'When you think about it, Sheffield had as strong a motive for killing the professor as Gifford did. Stronger, in a way. If Landreth had discovered what Sheffield was doing with his talent, he might have threatened to expose him. Sheffield might have feared the damage to his campaign.'
'Stop obsessing on Landreth's death. We've got other problems.'
'I told you, Sheffield is not a problem.' Amaryllis looked past him into the flames. 'Unless he killed Professor Landreth. Lucas, we need to find that missing file.'
'You haven't got the foggiest idea of how to go about finding a missing file,' Lucas exploded. 'And I don't want you trying to dream one up. Every time you try to play prism detective, you get yourself into trouble.'
'I can't quit now. Lucas, I have to know what's going on. Try to understand. I need answers.'
He studied her face in the firelight and knew that there was nothing he could do to change her mind. Her stubborn nature was as much a part of her as her fierce integrity. He knew when he was beaten.
'You want to find a missing file?' he said. 'Hire a real private investigator.'
Amaryllis's eyes lit with fresh enthusiasm. 'Do you know one?'
'Yeah,' he said. 'As a matter of fact, I do.'
The following morning Lucas strode past the desks of two assistant secretaries and a clerk. He entered a small, tastefully panelled antechamber. The refined, conservatively dressed woman seated behind the large desk bore a striking resemblance to the prisms Lucas had seen focusing for Sheffield. Same hair color. Same bra size.
'Can I help you?'
'I'm here to see Madison Sheffield.'
'I'm afraid Senator Sheffield is busy at the moment.' The secretary gave him a polite, inquiring look. 'Did you have an appointment?'
'No. But don't worry about it. I don't need one.' He moved across the chamber to the closed door of the inner office and reached for the knob.
'Sir, I cannot allow you to just barge in on the senator.' The secretary leaped to her feet and hurried around the corner of the desk with a surprising turn of speed. 'I told you, he's a busy man. If you have an issue you wish to discuss with him, you'll have to make an appointment.'
Lucas glanced at his watch. It was five minutes to ten. 'Put me down for ten o'clock. I'm a little early.' He opened the door and walked into the inner office.
He shut the door in the secretary's face and activated the lock.
Madison Sheffield was deep in conversation on the phone. He frowned when he saw who had invaded his sanctum. 'Excuse me, Bob, something's come up. I'll call you back later to discuss those changes in the bill.' He slowly replaced the phone.
A series of muffled thuds sounded on the heavy door. Lucas ignored them.
'This won't take long, Sheffield.'
'What do you want?'
'Five minutes to explain the facts of life.' Lucas crossed the thick carpet and halted in front of the broad desk. 'You're smart enough to have gotten all the way to this fancy office, but if you expect to make it to the governor's chair, you had better be smart enough to keep your hands off Amaryllis Lark.'
'What the hell are you talking about, Trent?' Lucas planted both hands on the wide desk. 'She's off limits, Sheffield. Touch her and you can kiss good-bye to your hopes of becoming the next governor of our fair city-state. Do I make myself clear?'
'You can't threaten me.'
'Normally I don't get involved in politics,' Lucas said softly. 'It's not a great interest of mine. But for you I will make an exception.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'For you, I will call Nelson Buriton personally to give him the inside story of how you use your off-the-scale talent to raise campaign contributions.'
'No one will believe you.'
'The public loves Nelson Buriton. They also love a scandal. But just to make certain, I will also call the biggest donors on your list of contributors and warn them privately that they were manipulated into giving money to the Founders' Values Party.'
'You have no proof.'
'That's the beauty of it, Sheffield. I won't need proof. I'm the Iceman, remember? The guy who ran the pirates out of the islands. The man who discovered the alien artifacts. I even turned down the chance to run for your seat in the city-state senate. Important people, the kind who give you money, will believe me.'
'How dare you!' Sheffield shot to his feet, his face working with rage. 'Get out of my office before I have you thrown out.'
'Stay away from Amaryllis. If the rumors about you start with me and flow through Nelson Buriton, you'll never be able to shake them. Every major contributor you've got will get nervous. People will talk, Sheffield. Ever hear the term psychic vampire? That's what they call off-the-scale talents like you.'
'Damn you, Trent, you're one yourself, aren't you? That's the only explanation for what happened when I leaned on you last night. And you've found yourself a prism who can handle something more than class-ten talent.'
Lucas smiled faintly. 'You're mistaken. I'm only a class nine. And I've got the certification papers to prove
