Obsidian Prey (gh-7) by Jayne Castle

Author:Jayne Castle [Castle, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love_sf
ISBN: 0515146897
Publisher: Jove
Published: 2009-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

JEFF DROVE HER BACK TO HER APARTMENT SHORTLY before two so that she could change clothes for the auction preview appointment with Wilson Revere. They used a small, nondescript Float provided by Amber Inc. Security. The little vehicle did not call attention to itself in any way. If Jeff hadn't explained that beneath the boring gray paint job the car was discreetly armored with heavy-duty mag-steel, Lyra would never have known.

"Gets lousy mileage because of all the steel," Jeff said. "And it's sort of embarrassing to drive. But it has one big advantage. No one looks twice at it."

"Does Amber Inc. Security maintain a fleet of armored vehicles?" Lyra asked.

"The company garage always has a few on hand."

"To protect the executives? Not that I can envision Cruz Sweetwater buzzing around in a Float, mind you."

Jeff laughed. "If you're in any of the executive suites at AI, it means you can take care of yourself. You drive whatever you want. Mostly we use the armored cars for clients."

"So now I'm an AI client?" She wrinkled her nose. "I hope no one plans on sending me a bill because, thanks to a recent lawsuit against a certain unnamed company, I can't afford a high-rez private security firm."

"Don't worry, there won't be any bill." Jeff slid the little compact into a parking space at the curb. "The boss is picking up the tab on this case personally." He glanced at the rearview mirror as he powered up the engine. "Speaking of the boss, looks like he's ready to take his shift."

"What?" Alarmed, Lyra twisted around in the front seat just in time to see a familiar black Slider glide into the parking space behind the Float. "Oh, no, no, this is a really, really bad idea."

Even as the sense of impending doom settled on her like a dark cloud, Vincent, perched on the back of the seat, started bouncing and chortling with anticipation. His red beret flapped wildly.

Lyra watched Cruz get out of the Slider and walk toward the Float. He wore another sleekly tailored black jacket, black trousers, and black bolo tie trimmed with a gleaming amber stone. The well-dressed assassin on his way to an upscale auction.

She grabbed Vincent and her tote, opened the door, and jumped out.

"No," she said. "Absolutely not, Cruz. You cannot go with me to the auction preview."

He halted in front of her. "Sure I can." He batted one of Vincent's paws a couple of times in greeting and kissed Lyra in a quick, outrageously proprietary way. Before she could protest, he straightened, braced one hand on the roof of the Float, and leaned in to speak to Jeff through the open window. "I'll take it from here. I'll give you a call when we need you back."

"Yes, sir. Bye, Miss Dore," Jeff said as he drove off down the street.

Lyra glared at Cruz. "Wilson Revere is an important client."

Somehow Cruz managed to look politely innocent, even a little confused.

"So?" he said.

"Look, you and Revere obviously have a history.

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