the door opened without warning. Tamara Wyatt walked into the office. One look at her tense, drawn expression and Emmett knew that she was very tightly rezzed. The stress she was under was taking its toll.
“Perkins.” She nodded at the little man. “Wondered where you were.”
“Mrs. Wyatt.” Perkins bobbed his head deferentially and then looked at Emmett for directions.
“That’s all for now, Perkins,” Emmett said. “Let me know when Verwood gets here.”
“Yes, sir.” Perkins left, closing the door discreetly behind him.
Tamara went straight to the window and stood looking out at the view of the Dead City and the mountains beyond. In spite of the strain she had been under since the call that had summoned her to the hospital, she was as sleek and polished as ever. Her dark hair was neatly coiled in an elegant chignon that focused attention on the excellent bones of her striking face. She wore her amber in her earrings.
Tamara was a ghost-hunter, a strong one, although she had never worked much underground. Her interests lay elsewhere. Tamara preferred the halls of Guild politics to the alien catacombs.
She was a beautiful woman, endowed with that subtle aura that people called glamour. The old meaning of the word implied sorcery and magic and looking back he figured he must have been under some kind of spell when he had proposed to her. Or maybe he just hadn’t been paying much attention, he thought. Either way it was hard to explain why he hadn’t noticed the single-minded, all-consuming thirst for power that guided Tamara’s every move.
The tabloids had got it wrong this morning. His engagement to her hadn’t ended because she had been swept off her feet by Mercer Wyatt. Tamara would never have allowed herself to be distracted from her objectives by anything so mundane and inconsequential as passion.
The truth was that Mercer and Tamara were in many ways a perfect match, he thought. In spite of the fact that Wyatt was nearly four decades older than her, they had a lot in common. They both had a talent for manipulating Guild politics and they were both obsessively loyal to the organization.
But last month Mercer had informed Emmett that he intended to retire so that he would have more time to enjoy life and his lovely new bride. Emmett was pretty sure that news must have come as a shock to Tamara.
“I assume you’ve seen the headlines in the tabloids this morning,” Tamara said curtly.
“Hard to miss ’em.”
“They couldn’t get much worse. What if the media picks up those old rumors about you being Mercer’s illegitimate son?”
“My birth certificate states that I am the son of John London. As far as I’m concerned that’s the way it’s going to stand.”
“What a hideous mess.” Tamara turned away from the window and began to pace the room. “Any news from the police?”
“No. I assume they are following their own leads.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to start a private investigation using Guild resources.”
She nodded in a distracted manner. “I just came from the hospital. Mercer’s two daughters are there now. They arrived a couple of hours ago.” Her jaw tightened. “They are not particularly fond of me, you know. They tolerate me because they have no choice, but as far as they’re concerned I married their father for mercenary reasons.”
“Well, look at the bright side. They’ll probably want to stay in a hotel while they’re in town. You won’t have to put them up at your house.”
“That is not very funny, Emmett.” She halted on the far side of the room. “There are a couple of problems that have to be dealt with immediately. First, you do realize that your temporary appointment has to be ratified by a majority of the Guild Council as soon as possible?”
“I’ve scheduled a meeting of the Council on Thursday. Can’t do it any sooner than that because three of the members are out of town.”
She frowned. “Confirming you as
“Perkins.” She nodded at the little man. “Wondered where you were.”
“Mrs. Wyatt.” Perkins bobbed his head deferentially and then looked at Emmett for directions.
“That’s all for now, Perkins,” Emmett said. “Let me know when Verwood gets here.”
“Yes, sir.” Perkins left, closing the door discreetly behind him.
Tamara went straight to the window and stood looking out at the view of the Dead City and the mountains beyond. In spite of the strain she had been under since the call that had summoned her to the hospital, she was as sleek and polished as ever. Her dark hair was neatly coiled in an elegant chignon that focused attention on the excellent bones of her striking face. She wore her amber in her earrings.
Tamara was a ghost-hunter, a strong one, although she had never worked much underground. Her interests lay elsewhere. Tamara preferred the halls of Guild politics to the alien catacombs.
She was a beautiful woman, endowed with that subtle aura that people called glamour. The old meaning of the word implied sorcery and magic and looking back he figured he must have been under some kind of spell when he had proposed to her. Or maybe he just hadn’t been paying much attention, he thought. Either way it was hard to explain why he hadn’t noticed the single-minded, all-consuming thirst for power that guided Tamara’s every move.
The tabloids had got it wrong this morning. His engagement to her hadn’t ended because she had been swept off her feet by Mercer Wyatt. Tamara would never have allowed herself to be distracted from her objectives by anything so mundane and inconsequential as passion.
The truth was that Mercer and Tamara were in many ways a perfect match, he thought. In spite of the fact that Wyatt was nearly four decades older than her, they had a lot in common. They both had a talent for manipulating Guild politics and they were both obsessively loyal to the organization.
But last month Mercer had informed Emmett that he intended to retire so that he would have more time to enjoy life and his lovely new bride. Emmett was pretty sure that news must have come as a shock to Tamara.
“I assume you’ve seen the headlines in the tabloids this morning,” Tamara said curtly.
“Hard to miss ’em.”
“They couldn’t get much worse. What if the media picks up those old rumors about you being Mercer’s illegitimate son?”
“My birth certificate states that I am the son of John London. As far as I’m concerned that’s the way it’s going to stand.”
“What a hideous mess.” Tamara turned away from the window and began to pace the room. “Any news from the police?”
“No. I assume they are following their own leads.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to start a private investigation using Guild resources.”
She nodded in a distracted manner. “I just came from the hospital. Mercer’s two daughters are there now. They arrived a couple of hours ago.” Her jaw tightened. “They are not particularly fond of me, you know. They tolerate me because they have no choice, but as far as they’re concerned I married their father for mercenary reasons.”
“Well, look at the bright side. They’ll probably want to stay in a hotel while they’re in town. You won’t have to put them up at your house.”
“That is not very funny, Emmett.” She halted on the far side of the room. “There are a couple of problems that have to be dealt with immediately. First, you do realize that your temporary appointment has to be ratified by a majority of the Guild Council as soon as possible?”
“I’ve scheduled a meeting of the Council on Thursday. Can’t do it any sooner than that because three of the members are out of town.”
She frowned. “Confirming you as
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