After Dark by Jayne Castle Page A

“It’s a business meeting, not a date.”
    â€œSounds boring.”
    Whatever else Emmett London was, Lydia thought, he was definitely not boring. She met Zane’s gaze in the mirror and smiled.
    Zane had just turned thirteen. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, he was slim, energetic, and hitting the awkward stage when he badly needed a man’s firm hand on his shoulder. Unfortunately, there was no adult male in the picture. His father, a ghost-hunter, had been killed years ago in the catacombs. His mother had died in a drunk-driving accident shortly thereafter. Zane was being raised by his aunt, Olinda Hoyt. They lived downstairs on the third floor.
    The majority of Lydia’s so-called friends and colleagues at the University had disappeared after the Lost Weekend incident. Zane and Olinda had befriended Lydia at a time when she had found herself badly in need of friends. She was deeply grateful.
    â€œThe important thing is that Mr. London is going to pay me big bucks to help him find a lost family heirloom,” Lydia said.
    â€œHuh. Still sounds boring.” Zane paused hopefully. “Unless we’re talking about something from the catacombs?”
    â€œNope. It’s an Old Earth antique.”
    â€œWhy do you want to mess around with Old Earth stuff? I thought you wanted to get back underground.”
    â€œI do. But before I can attract that kind of business, I need to establish my reputation as a private consultant. That means I’ll take any business I can get.”
    â€œI guess.” Zane took a swallow of cola and wrinkled his nose. “So is it okay for me to study here tonight with Fuzz while you’re out?”
    â€œSure.” Anything to encourage his educational efforts, Lydia thought. “Fuzz enjoys the company.”
    Zane was a budding dissonance-energy para-rez. Unless he was forcibly prodded into a different path, his career prospects were all too obvious. It was almost a given that he would join the Guild when he turned eighteen and become a ghost-hunter. To make matters worse, he was thrilled with the image of himself in leather and khaki.
    Lydia was doing her utmost to discourage him. At best, ghost-hunters were little more than high-priced body-guards, in her opinion. Bodyguards, furthermore, who could not be depended upon in a crunch, as she had discovered at her own expense six months ago. At worst, they were gangsters.
    Zane was too bright to waste his life in a dead-end muscle job. She might not be able to keep him from doing some ghost-hunting on the side, but she was determined that he get a college degree and study a respectable profession.
    She sat down in the chair across from him. “Zane, before Mr. London gets here, I want to ask you a question. This is real serious, okay? So please don’t tease me.”
    He gave her a quizzical look. “Something wrong?”
    â€œMaybe. Last night someone summoned a ghost and sent it into my bedroom to frighten me. Today, at work, I got a weird phone call about it. I think it must have been someone from the neighborhood. Any idea who it was?”
    Zane sputtered on a mouthful of cola. “Are you kidding? None of the guys I hang with are strong enough yet to actually summon a ghost.”
    â€œHow about one of the older boys? Derrick or Rich?”
    Zane took another swig of his soda while he pondered that. “Jeez, I dunno, Lyd. I don’t think so. Maybe it’s someone new in the area.”
    â€œI was afraid you’d say that,” Lydia muttered.
    â€œA lot of the guys would probably tell you they could do it, but don’t believe ’em. They like to flash a lot of amber around, but I’ve never actually seen any of ’em do much except maybe get a couple of flickers going.” Zane eyed her closely. “You sure that wasn’t what you saw? Some flickers?”
    â€œPositive.” Lydia knew that Zane and his buddies used the word