Page 41 of Guild Boss

“Right.” Lucy squared her shoulders. “Got to stay focused.”

Chapter Twelve

“The client doesn’t want to wait any longer,” Tuck said. He lounged against a workbench and hooked a thumb in the gear belt slung low on his hips. “The experiment will be conducted tonight. The client wants proof of concept before authorizing more funding for your lab.”

His full name was Tucker Taylor, but after being kicked out of the Guild he had reinvented himself as just Tuck. It sounded stronger. More dangerous. It suited his new position as an elite operative in the Blue Amber Agency, an exclusive private security business.

“Fine, have it your way,” Preston Trenchard muttered. “I’ve got enough of the liquid crystal to do one full-scale demonstration, but that’s it.”

“It happens tonight,” Tuck said, putting a little more ice into his voice.

“I heard you the first time, all right? But I’m warning you, this will bring my work to a halt until you get me access to more of the crystal. To do that, you’re going to have to deal with the weather problem.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t worry? You’ve screwed up twice since you lost Bell, and all you’ve got to show for it are a couple of dead channelers.”

“Relax. We brought them in from outside. Independents. None of the locals knew them. Hell, nobody was even aware they were in town.” Tuck paused a beat for emphasis. “And nobody so much as blinked when they disappeared.”

The implied threat sounded good, he thought. They both knew that no one would bat an eye if Preston Trenchard vanished. Trenchard was an inventor—eccentric, reclusive, obsessed with his theory and his creation. He had submitted one patent after another for decades. Thus far, every application had been rejected as frivolous. No government agency, no corporation, and no research institution would back him.

But a little more than four months ago, an anonymous client had offered to fund the development of a prototype of the machine.

“You must understand that we can’t keep using second-rate talent,” Trenchard said. “We need the best. I must have more of the crystal. You’ll have to pick up the Bell woman again.”

“What makes you think Bell is still capable of handling the project?” Tuck said. “By all accounts, she’s developed some form of post-traumatic psychic stress. She hasn’t worked underground since she escaped from the hospital.”

“Because no one will hire her,” Trenchard said, exasperated. “Ghost hunter teams and miners are a superstitious lot. They’re afraid to work with Bell. But I’ve researched her psychic profile. I’m convinced she’s the only one who might be able to access the pool of liquid crystal.”

“The only one? There are hundreds of professional weather channelers scattered around the four city-states, not to mention all the indies who work off the books.”

“Sure, but you can’t keep kidnapping them at random. You’ve gone through two already. Bell has the talent we need, and she’s an independent. There won’t be many questions when she disappears.”

“The new Guild boss is fucking Lucy Bell,” Tuck said. “He’s going to notice if she disappears again.”

“So?” Trenchard grimaced in disgust. “Guild bosses go through women like popcorn. Make her disappearance look good and Jones will forget about her soon enough. If necessary you can send another woman around to get his attention. Everyone knows Guild men are very simple creatures when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“We don’t know how Jones will react if Bell vanishes again.”

“Then I suggest you be more careful this time,” Trenchard said through clenched teeth. “You’re telling me to do my job. You can damn well do yours. You’ll get your demonstration tonight. In return I must have more of the crystal immediately.”

Tuck shrugged. “If the demonstration goes off the way you say it will, there will be more liquid crystal.”

He straightened, opened the door, and went out into the never-ending gray fog that cloaked the Shadow Zone. Trenchard was wrong. The new Guild boss would notice if the woman disappeared. So would the press.

But if Jones and the woman both vanished together in the Underworld... things would be different. Accidents happened all the time down below. Everyone knew that.

Chapter Thirteen

Trenchard waited until the annoying security man was gone before he gave in to his frustration. He grabbed a wrench off the workbench and hurled it against the nearest wall.

It was infuriating. A man of his genius should have been working for one of the top labs in a major city-state like Cadence or Resonance. Instead, thanks to a lack of appreciation for his bold concepts, he was stuck in the backwater of Illusion Town, reduced to taking orders from an unknown client who hired thugs like the swaggering, bulked-up Tuck.

The only reason he was sticking around was because the client had the two things he required to achieve his goal: money and the vision to comprehend the revolutionary value of the suppressor weapon.

Trenchard had long dreamed of creating the device. For years he had been confident in the theory and the design. The stumbling block had been the lack of the unique liquid crystal required for power.

The unknown client had supplied the makeshift lab and threecanisters of the crystal. There was enough left to put on an impressive demonstration, but once it was gone his work would come to a halt. He could not bear the thought. He was so close to perfecting the suppressor. Just a few more tweaks.

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