Dark Light by Randy Wayne White Page A

her away from him. She gave ground grudgingly. He took a couple of paces back, putting even more distance between them.
    She felt a faint buzz of energy first. A few seconds later there was enough psi swirling in the room to give her goose bumps. Elvis wriggled in the crook of her arm and made excited little sounds.
    Four hot balls of ghost fire swirled into existence, each about a foot across. The audience gasped. A low murmur went through the crowd.
    â€œSet fire to my newsroom, and I’ll sue the Guild,” Runtley warned.
    Andy chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ve got things under control here. This is a test for Fontana.”
    Deftly manipulated by Jeff, Simon, Andy, and Mitch, the ghosts lined up in a row between Fontana and Sierra.
    A fifth ball of energy flared and took its place directly in front of Sierra. Involuntarily, she took another quick step back. She was no expert, but it was obvious that the new ghost was hotter and more tightly wound than the others.
    â€œI’m the best man,” Ray said. “Wouldn’t be right if I didn’t help with the send-off.”
    â€œOh, damn,” Sierra said.
    Fontana leaned one shoulder against the wall, folded his arms, and contemplated the ghosts as though they were novel inventions he’d never seen before in his life.
    â€œThis is for you, Sierra,” Jeff explained earnestly. “The boss is going to show that he’s worthy of you.”
    â€œThe only way he gets you is if he gets through our ghosts first,” Simon said.
    Kay giggled. There was a lot more muffled laughter in the room, mostly from the women.
    This was not about proving anything to the bride, Sierra thought. It was about generating a lot of ghost heat. It was common knowledge in certain quarters—hair salons and ladies’ restrooms, for instance—that hunters got sexually aroused after working ghost light. It had something to do with the testosterone-heavy, bio-psi hormones that flooded their systems when they used their talents.
    The rumors about their sexual prowess when they were in the midst of a post-ghost burn were not unfounded, according to women who had dated Guild men. There was a reason why the taverns and bars that catered to hunters in the Quarter were also popular with college women on spring break and bachelorette parties.
    There was an old hunter saying—one of many—to the effect that it took a ghost to kill a ghost. The hunters expected Fontana to destroy their ghosts by rezzing one of his own and using it to neutralize the flaring balls of green fire that stood between him and Sierra.
    â€œNo offense,” Sierra said, striving to project firm authority, “but you’ve all had a little too much to drink tonight. I really don’t think any of you should be working ghost light in a confined space.”
    They ignored her, watching Fontana for his reaction.
    â€œWhat do you say, boss?” Andy asked. “Is Sierra worth working your way through five ghosts?”
    Fontana looked at her over the tops of the ghosts that bobbed between them.
    â€œOh, yes,” he said, nerve-shatteringly serious. “She’s worth it.”
    The controlled heat in his eyes was hotter than the UDEMs in front of her. She went still, aware of his desire on both the normal and the paranormal plane. She had sensed some of this masculine energy earlier today in his office, but now it was as if he had just lowered a barrier and let her see the full strength of it.
    Once again the hair was stirring on the nape of her neck, but her reaction had nothing to do with the flashing, sparking ghosts that separated them. She was responding to Fontana with every fiber of her being. Heat spilled into her veins. She knew then that, whatever his reasons for the marriage, one thing was clear: her short-term husband wanted her.
    Heaven help her, she wanted him, too. That was probably not a good thing. At the very least, it was a very