Shortly before midnight she heard the front door of the cottage open and close. Cool night air wafted down the hallway into the bedroom.
“Have a good time tonight?” Cyrus asked in low tones.
Lyle chortled a cheery reply. Sedona heard his little claws clicking on the hardwood floor in the hall. A moment later he bounded up onto the bed, a small rock clutched in one paw. He dropped the chunk of amber onto the quilt near her hand. Her senses pinged in recognition. She smiled.
“Where did you find this?” She picked up the amber. “It’s lovely, thank you. I’ll have Charlotte tune it in the morning. A woman can’t have too much good amber.”
She placed the chunk of amber on the bedside table. Satisfied, Lyle rumbled contentedly and settled down. She reached out and gave him a couple of pats.
Out in the front room the sofa creaked beneath Cyrus’s weight. It occurred to her that she could get used to the notion of having him close by at night if not for the frustration factor. The attraction between them was definitely not diminishing with proximity. It was only growing more intense—at least on her end.
But she was deeply wary of allowing the sparks to flash into a full-blown flame. Some relationships a woman could walk away from relatively unscathed—the relationship with Brock Prescott, for example. Sure, she had not been above taking some satisfaction from the unexpected shot at revenge that had come her way. She was only human, she thought. But her heart had not been broken. She had been pissed off when Diana Easton had opened the door of Brock’s town house but not heartbroken. There was a difference. Singed but not burned.
Her intuition told her that things would be different if she allowed herself to get drawn into a more intimate relationship with Cyrus.
She heard the sofa springs creak once more. Cyrus was up again. She could hear him moving around in the front room. Alarm shot through her when she heard his boots on the floor, heading toward the door.
Lyle woke up, too. All four eyes snapped open. He sleeked out, leaped off the bed, and shot down the hallway.
“What in the world?” Sedona said.
There was no response. The front door opened and closed.
She tossed back the covers, grabbed her robe, and shoved her feet into her slippers.
The thud-thud-thud of running footsteps echoed in the night just as she went outside onto the porch. In the orange and green lighting of the Halloween decorations she could see Cyrus silhouetted against the dense fog. He gripped the railing and watched the cemetery. Lyle, still sleeked out and ready to rumble, was perched nearby.
A portable light had been rigged up to illuminate the cage around the gravesite, and a guard had been posted to prevent unauthorized entry into the Underworld.
To Sedona’s ears, the pounding footsteps sounded unnaturally loud in the fog-muted night. A flashlight beam bobbed frantically in the mist. She thought she could hear ragged breathing now. Then she caught the sound of a second set of running footsteps and saw another flashlight beam.
“Stop,” a man shouted. “Orders of the new Guild boss.”
The first set of footsteps did not slow.
“Got to get help,” the first runner gasped.
Sedona moved to stand next to Cyrus.
“What’s going on?” she asked in low tones.
“I’m not sure,” Cyrus said. He, too, kept his voice pitched low. “Treasure hunter, maybe.”
“Coming up from the catacombs?”
“Probably. I saw two people emerge last night. Figured they were locals who were using the gravesite entrance to do some treasure hunting. That’s why I stationed a guard there tonight.”
“Sounds like your guard scared off an intruder,” Sedona said.
“Maybe.”
The ragged breathing and the pounding footsteps got louder. A figure burst out of the fog and scrambled to a halt at the foot of the porch steps, chest heaving with exertion. Sedona recognized him immediately.
“Joe,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Joe Furnell was most likely in his midforties but there was a tough, hard-bitten quality about him that made it impossible to guess his true age. He lived alone in a cabin located near the psi-fence that surrounded the Preserve. Like many on Rainshadow, he kept to himself for the most part. He drove into town in a battered truck once a week to pick up groceries and a fresh supply of the herbal tisane that Rachel brewed for him. Joe was grouchy even on his good days and he did not have much use for people in general, but Sedona had always felt a certain sympathy for him.
“This is Joe Furnell,” Sedona said quietly to Cyrus. “Retired hunter.”
A second man appeared out of the fog. He stopped when he saw Cyrus.
“Sorry, boss,” he said. “He took me by surprise. I was watching for intruders attempting to go down into the tunnels. Wasn’t expecting one to pop out like this guy did.”
“It’s all right, Montrose,” Cyrus said. He switched his attention to Joe. “What’s going on here?”
Joe aimed the flashlight at Cyrus.
“You’re the new Guild boss, right?” Joe said. “Heard you had taken up with Miss Snow, here. You gotta do something, sir. My boy’s down there.”
Cyrus released his grip on the railing, went down the steps, and snapped the flashlight out of Joe’s hand. Joe did not seem to notice. Sedona could see that he was dazed and disoriented.
“Joe Furnell,” Cyrus said in a cold voice that carried the bracing edge of a command. “Report.”
Joe responded immediately. He straightened and seemed to pull himself together.
“Yes, sir,” he wheezed. “Henderson and I went down into the catacombs tonight.”
“That was an unauthorized entry into the Underworld.”
“Yes, sir. I know, sir. I apologize, sir.”
“Did you use the cemetery entrance?”
“No, sir. Used another one that I found awhile back just outside the Preserve. It’s farther out but we switched to that one after you put a guard on the cemetery entrance today.”
“What happened tonight?”
“Henderson and I are working a site,” Joe said. “Awhile back we found a cache of Alien artifacts. Worth a fortune.”
“Go on,” Cyrus ordered.
“We were clearing out the last of the relics. But something happened when Henderson touched one of the artifacts. He said he was pretty sure he could resonate with it. Next thing we know, a gate opened up in the tunnel wall. Thought we’d find ourselves looking into the Rainforest but it wasn’t like that at all. Everything on the other side of the gate seemed like it was made of crystal and quartz and it was all loaded with hot psi. Dazzled our senses. Henderson got real excited. He said he wanted to take a look around. I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Something went wrong, I assume,” Cyrus said.
“Yes, sir. Henderson went through the portal. And then the damned gate started to slam shut. That’s when I heard it, sir.”
“What, exactly, did you hear?” Cyrus asked.
Joe appeared to be on the verge of losing his control. His mouth opened and closed. His face crumpled. Sedona realized he was starting to cry. Impulsively, she went down the steps and touched his arm.
He looked at her, as if he had forgotten she was there.
“Miss Snow,” he rasped. “Tell the boss here that he’s gotta help me.”
“You said you heard something just as the gate started to close,” Sedona said quietly. “What was it?”
“Henderson,” Joe whispered in an agonized voice. He turned back to Cyrus. “I heard Henderson screaming. He started running toward the gate. But . . . but he didn’t make it. The gate closed up solid.”
“Who is Henderson?” Cyrus asked.
“He’s my son,” Joe said. “He found me a few months ago. They told him I was dead, you see. But when he grew up, he came looking for me. Henderson is the only family I got left in the world. You gotta help him, Mr. Jones.”
Sedona looked at Cyrus.
“You’ll need me to open the gate,” she said.
Cyrus did not look thrilled but he didn’t argue. “Yes, I will.”
His lack of enthusiasm hurt a lot more than it should have, she thought. What had she expected? He was a Guild boss who was going to have to lead a dicey search-and-rescue mission with a gatekeeper who might be an unstable multi-talent.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t crash and burn on you.”
He looked at her. “No, you won’t.”
She suddenly felt a whole lot better.