She was ready to get serious. If Gabriel was determined to be married to the Guild, that was his problem, not hers. She would have to move on. It was a truly depressing thought.
The bleak vision of a future without Gabriel while living in the same town and taking contracts with his precious Guild caused her to lower her guard. The psychic barrier she used to close off the most disturbing vibes of energy gave way. The shadowy fragments of dreams and nightmares crawled through the breach in her mental wall.
For a moment she was in the grip of the drug-induced visions she had experienced on the night she was kidnapped. This time, though, the images came into sharper focus. Figures in dark clothes chasing her into the ruins. The sting of the injection. Glimpses of blue amber pendants burning hot in the night. Panic, fear. The horror of knowing that she might be losing her mind …
Otis chortled, breaking the spell cast by the memories. She gave herself a mental shake and clamped down her psychic wall. Her mind cleared. Her senses returned to normal—or, at least, what passed for normal these days.
But in the wake of her brief lapse of control came other memories. Sharper and more focused. She recalled waking up over and over again in the chamber where she had taken refuge. Her inability to get through the doorway. Otis. Pizza. The Lord of the Underworld showing up to rescue her.
Because that’s what Gabriel did. He rescued people. He protected them. And as the director of the Illusion Town Guild, he would go on rescuing and protecting people. It was his calling. His mission. She was okay with that. Theoretically. But he needed to understand that, in the end, even the most distinguished career would not be enough to extinguish the loneliness.
A thought struck her. What if he was holding back because he was afraid to let himself fall in love with a woman who felt she owed him her life and her sanity? A man like Gabriel would not want to trust a love based solely on gratitude. Maybe he was being cautious because he wasn’t sure of her feelings.
If that was the problem, she could solve it. Gabriel had saved her once. She would try to return the favor. He was worth saving from himself. She would find a way to seize the future for both of them.
Otis reappeared just as she was about to exit the Dead City through the hole-in-the-wall on the Dark Zone side. She picked him up and plopped him on her shoulder.
“The first thing I’m going to do when the Guild pays its bill is put a down payment on a car,” she said. “No offense, but you get a little heavy after a while.”
Otis chortled and waved his toy.
“No,” she said, “it’s not your dust bunny, pal. It’s you. I know, I know, it’s probably all muscle.”
Otis murmured agreement.
She was only a few feet away from the front walk of the apartment house when an empty cab cruised past. The logo on the side read, DARK ZONE CABS. WE CAN FIND ANY ADDRESS IN THE ZONE.
The driver looked out the window.
“Cab, lady?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m home now.”
The cab drove down the street and vanished into a narrow, winding lane.
Lucy stopped and turned to look at the corner where the cab had disappeared.
“Otis, the cabdriver.”
Otis, alerted by her tone, made questioning noises that probably translated into What game are we going to play now?
She took out her key and hurried toward the lobby entrance, wild thoughts tumbling through her head. She concentrated to assemble them into a logical string.
The police had maintained they had been unable to locate the driver of the cab that had kidnapped her the night of the wedding reception. They concluded he had probably been working off the books and didn’t want to get involved in a missing persons investigation. After she had been diagnosed as suffering from para-psych trauma, the police had closed the case. So had the Guild.
“Can’t blame them, Otis. There was no evidence to support my story. I have to admit it sounded as if I’d been rezzed on drugs and bad psi. But we have a lot more information now. It’s obvious the driver must have been one of Westover’s mercenaries. Naturally, the cops never found him. They were looking for an ordinary cabdriver, not a rogue hunter working with a team.”
But a few weeks later someone claimed to have tracked down the cabdriver and talked to him. That same person said the driver had confirmed the cops’ theory of the case, so there was no point trying to make him talk to the police or the press.
“Someone lied, Otis.” Lucy rezzed the lock on the front door and walked into the lobby. “I know who.”