After Dark by Jayne Castle Page A

into the hall.
    Ahead of him the intruder pounded toward the stairwell. Emmett gave chase.
    â€œLet him go, Emmett,” Lydia called. “I saw the knife in his hand.”
    It was not the knife that worried him, Emmett thought. It was the fact that the intruder was already at the stairwell, about to disappear down it.
    A robust middle-aged woman built like a monument to the colonial settlers hauled herself out of the stairwell just as the hunter reached it. A T-shirt emblazoned with the message DISSONANCE HAPPENS in sequined letters heralded her ample bosom. In the weak light of the dimly lit hallway, Emmett saw the other man’s start of panicky surprise. And then the unmistakable hesitation.
    It hadn’t taken the hunter long to realize that he had just been handed a potential hostage, Emmett thought.
    â€œGet down,” Emmett shouted to the woman. “Hit the deck. Now!”
    To his great relief, the newcomer assessed the situation with commendable speed and came to the correct conclusion. There was an audible thud as she dropped to the floor like a block of marble.
    The ghost-hunter started to reach down for a fistful of the woman’s jacket, belatedly realized he could not possibly haul her to her feet, and abandoned the hostage idea.
    He whirled and leaped into the stairwell. The echo of his boots rang loudly as he plummeted downward.
    Emmett had to vault the prone woman to reach the opening.
    â€œWhat the hell’s going on here?” She sat up warily. “Who are you?”
    â€œLater.” Emmett gripped the railing to control his swift descent.
    The sound of the hunter’s footfalls was already receding into the distance. He would never catch him now, and he dared not risk another ghost. There was no telling who else might enter the stairwell from one of the other floors. A brush with a UDEM would not endear him to the neighbors. And then there were the awkward legalities to be considered.
    He was on the second landing when he heard his quarry slam through the broken security door.
    I’m going to lose him, Emmett thought.
    The intruder was fast. He moved with the speed and agility of a young, athletic male. But he had not yet learned to marshal and control his psychic energies. He had freaked at the sight of the large ghost that Emmett had conjured. He obviously lacked the kind of practical experience that came only with extensive work in the field. Which put him in his late teens.
    About the same age as Quinn.
    Emmett glanced over the railing in time to see the masked figure dash out into the parking lot. When he reached the ground floor he heard the whine of a highly revved mag-rez engine and knew that he had lost whatever small chance he’d had. A long, six-inch-wide band of bright light appeared suddenly in the darkness, the distinctive glowing tube that marked the front grill of a Coaster.
    The vehicle’s passenger door slammed shut. The Coaster glided forward between the rows of parked cars, heading straight for Emmett.
    He threw himself into the dark space between an ancient Lyre and a small Float. The Coaster howled as it went past, a hungry beast that had been denied its intended prey.
    It did not turn back. Emmett stood between the Lyre and the Float and watched the car roar out of the small lot and into the street. A few seconds later it disappeared around the corner.
    He was still standing there, thinking, when Lydia, followed by Zane, dashed out of the stairwell to join him.
    â€œMy God!” Lydia stared at the empty street. Then she swung around to face him. “Are you all right?”
    â€œYeah.” Emmett drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
    It was not as though he could have kept it a secret for much longer, anyway, he thought. Lydia was smart. Sooner or later she would have figured out that he was a ghost-hunter.

10
    â€œ N O NEED TO let it get you down.” Olinda Hoyt clapped Emmett on the shoulder.