Obsidian Prey Read Online Free

secrets he had kept three months ago—but she would had to have been incredibly dim not to have realized that he possessed a lot of raw power.
    Anyone endowed with a high degree of talent required an equally high degree of control. Those who wound up with the former but not the latter generally spent most of their lives in nice, quiet parapsych wards knitting scarves and taking little pills.
    “I was out of town at the time,” Nancy said, trying to paper over the awkward moment. “I always close the gallery for a couple of weeks in early summer. Mandatory family gathering at the lake house.” She made a face. “You know how it is with family.”
    “Yes,” Cruz said. He looked amused. “I do know how it is with family.”
    The two of them exchanged a smile of mutual understanding. If there was one thing most people could bond over, it was the subject of family. After the Curtain had closed, stranding the colonists, the First Generation settlers had understood that their very survival depended on the strength of the family unit, the basic building block of any society. They had set out to shore up family ties with every legal, social, and moral tool at their command.
    The Founders had achieved their goal. Family was all on Harmony—except when you did not have one of your own.
    Lyra took another sip of champagne and made no comment, her customary response whenever the subject of family ties arose. Her grandfather, who had raised her after her parents had been killed in a mining accident, had died four years earlier, leaving her alone in the world.
    “And then I decided to tack on a buying trip to Resonance and Cadence,” Nancy continued, evidently feeling pressured to carry the conversation. “That took another week. By the time I got back . . . uh . . .” She broke off, reddening, and she darted an uneasy glance at Lyra.
    “By the time you got back it was all over,” Lyra said, amazed by her own calm. She flashed another polite smile for Cruz and swept out a hand to indicate the artifacts on display. “Which of these lovely things brings you here tonight, Mr. Sweetwater?”
    “You,” he said.
    She felt as though the floor of the gallery had fallen away beneath her feet. He really had come back to apologize and make amends. The weeks of amethyst orchids had been an effort to pave the way, just as she had hoped.
    But she had to be strong, she told herself sternly. There was a lot of groveling left to be done. If she let him back into her life too quickly, it would set a very bad precedent. She had the edge in this relationship now. She had to maintain it. Cruz Sweetwater had a bad habit of getting whatever he wanted. That had to stop. Boundaries had to be established.
    “I’m confused,” she said with just the right amount of bewilderment. “Did you want to hire me to tune some amber or consult on an amethyst artifact?”
    “No,” he said. “I’d like to talk to you.”
    “Certainly.” She assumed an expectant look.
    “In private,” Cruz added.
    “Oh, look,” Nancy said before Lyra could respond. “There’s Mr. Fitzburn.” She smiled at Cruz. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to have a chat with him. Fitzburn is a potential client. He missed out on the first three Chimera paintings that I had in my gallery, and he’s afraid I won’t give him a chance at the next one.”
    “I understand,” Cruz said.
    “Are you interested in modern art, Mr. Sweetwater?” Nancy asked.
    “It’s not really my thing,” Cruz said. “I take it this Chimera is popular?”
    “He’s a hot new talent. Just on the brink of being discovered by the art world, according to the critic at the Frequency Herald . But he’s very reclusive. Won’t do interviews or promotion of any kind. He’ll only display in my gallery.”
    “I see.”
    “You’re welcome to visit my gallery,” Nancy said. She whipped a card out of her little black bag. “It would be an honor.”
    “Thank you,” Cruz said. He took the card