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concede that you did not actually use the word criminal . But it’s obvious that you don’t think highly of those in my profession.”
    â€œI believe that the Guilds have far too much power when it comes to what goes on underground. A great deal of power in the hands of any one organization is always dangerous.”
    â€œDo you really think it would be a good idea to strip the Guilds of their authority underground?” he asked.
    â€œI’m not saying that some control and organization isn’t necessary. Everyone knows that people with your sort of talents are necessary for safe exploration.”
    â€œMy sort of talents?” he asked softly. “What do you know about my talents?”
    â€œYou’re obviously a hunter, a powerful one, I’m sure. You wouldn’t have made it to the top of the Guild unless you were a very strong dissonance energy para-rez talent.” She paused. “Of some kind.”
    She tacked on that last line very deliberately. Historically, the Guilds had always maintained that there was only one sort of hunter talent: the ability to work green ghost light. But in the course of her new career as an investigative reporter, she had picked up some very interesting rumors hinting that some hunters could work other kinds of alien psi, specifically silver and blue light. If it was true that there were some exotic hunter talents, it was yet another secret that the Guilds were keeping. She doubted very much that she could trick Fontana into admitting it, but it had been worth a shot.
    â€œLet’s assume for the moment that you know all you think you need to know about me,” he said, ignoring the subtle dig about unpublicized talents. “What about you?”
    She froze. Elvis, sensing her distress, left his coffee and skittered across the desk. He jumped down onto her knee and then bounded up her arm to sit on her shoulder. She reached up and touched him in a reassuring manner.
    Fontana could not possibly know about her own talent, she told herself. He was fishing in the dark, trying to provoke her the same way she had tried to prod him. They were after each other’s secrets.
    â€œI’m a reporter, Mr. Fontana,” she said coldly. “Whatever talents I have are in the realm of journalism.”
    He gave her a slow, knowing, shatteringly intimate smile. “I’m not buying that, not for a minute. I know power when I sense it, Miss McIntyre.”
    â€œI did not come here to talk about myself. This was supposed to be an interview with you.” She closed her notebook and slipped it into her purse. “But it appears that isn’t going to happen, so I might as well be on my way.”
    â€œYou surprise me. I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.”
    She got to her feet. “I don’t mind wasting your time, but I’m not real keen on wasting my own.”
    â€œSit down, Miss McIntyre.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I am, as the old saying goes, about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
    â€œAre you threatening me?”
    â€œI hope you won’t take it that way.”
    â€œAnd if I refuse?”
    He smiled. “You won’t.”
    â€œWhy won’t I?”
    â€œBecause I’m going to give you a shot at a real exclusive, the biggest story of your career.”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œYou don’t trust me, do you?”
    â€œNo farther than I could throw you.”
    He watched her with a steady, unwavering look. “I’m dead serious.”
    It was the word dead that aroused all her new journalistic instincts. Okay, maybe he was serious.
    â€œThis would be a Guild story?” she asked warily.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat, exactly, do I have to do to get this hot exclusive?”
    â€œMarry me.”

Chapter 2
    SHE SAT DOWN AGAIN. HARD. SO HARD THAT THE DUST bunny on her shoulder bounced a little and had to scramble to hang on to his