Free Amaryllis by Jayne Castle

wrong?”
    â€œNo.” He wondered if she had felt anything. Maybe it was just him. Damned hormones.
    Lucas fought for control. He was the Iceman. He exhaled halfway and fumbled again with the delicate link. Slowly, carefully he took hold of it.
    It was as though he used his big, calloused hands to grapple with a strand of silk spun from fine crystal. He was terrified of ripping the fragile thread to shreds.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Amaryllis murmured at his side. “I won’t break.”
    Gingerly, Lucas tightened his grip on the link. He felt the power vibrating in it, a natural complement to his own strength. She could handle him, or at least as much of him as he intended to use. Lucas relaxed slightly.
    An unwarranted exhilaration rushed through him. It felt so good. So right. The sensation of intense intimacy returned. In that moment he felt closer to Amaryllis than he had ever felt to any other human being in his life.
    He longed to know if Amaryllis was feeling the same surge of sexual desire that was soaring through him. He did not dare look at her.
    He ordered himself to concentrate. This was business. Amaryllis probably didn’t feel a thing. She was a pro. This weird stuff was probably only happening on his end of the link.
    He eased raw energy through the unbelievably clear prism.
    Out on the psychic plane, the normally chaotic, unpredictable talent flowed into the prism and emerged in theform of strong, sharply delineated bands of colored light. Almost a full spectrum. Lucas damped down the power level. He was supposed to be a nine, he reminded himself. He had to be careful.
    But he allowed himself another few seconds to savor the experience. While it flowed through the prism, the rush of talent was steady and sure. He could use it just as he used his other senses. Pleasure and deep satisfaction welled up inside him.
    This was how it was meant to feel
, he thought. Natural. Powerful. It paid to work with a professional.
    With gathering confidence, Lucas concentrated on the task at hand. His goal was to detect Merrick Beech in the act of using a hypno-talent.
    The hum of music and conversation faded around him. Another kind of noise filled his head. He recognized it immediately. It was the echo of a strong talent at work somewhere nearby.
    â€œI’ve got him,” Lucas muttered.
    â€œYou’ve got someone.” Amaryllis’s voice held a new note of tension. “But it doesn’t feel like a hypno-talent. I’ve focused for hypnos in the past, and they didn’t feel anything like this.”
    â€œDamn.” She was right. Lucas realized that while she was holding the focus, she felt and experienced everything he did. He did not want to dwell on all the ramifications right now. “What’s going on?”
    â€œI can’t tell.” Amaryllis paused. “But because you’re a high-class detector, you’re picking up the prism’s energy, too. There’s something familiar about the way he or she is working.”
    â€œFamiliar?”
    â€œA prism’s technique usually reflects his or her training. There are nuances of style that vary from prism to prism—” Amaryllis broke off, apparently concentrating.
    â€œCan you tell if the prism is a man or a woman?” Lucas asked.
    â€œNo more than you can tell if the talent is male or female.”
    He was in no doubt about the gender of the prism he wasusing, Lucas thought grimly. But she was right. He could not tell the sex of the other talent or prism in the hall.
    â€œWhat sort of talent is it, Lucas?”
    â€œI’m not sure. I’ll try to get a handle on it.” Lucas retuned the bands of light, searching for one that would clarify the other’s talent.
    He caught it, held it, analyzed it. “What the five hells is he doing?”
    â€œLucas?”
    The strange talent snapped off abruptly.
    Lucas reluctantly released the psychic link with Amaryllis. She