Read Harmony 01 After Dark for Free Online

boot heels did not echo on the pavement.
    He walked deliberately back to where he had parked the Slider, but he did not hurry. He was in no great rush to return to his hotel. He needed to think, and it was easier to do that out here in the shadows.
    Things were becoming complicated, he reflected. Hiring Lydia Smith had not been part of the original plan. But with Brady dead, the only thing he could do was improvise.
    The prickle of awareness at the top of his spine interrupted his thoughts. It got his immediate and complete attention.
    The telltale whiff of synch-smoke told him that the watcher was somewhere in the shadows to his left. He continued along the sidewalk without pause, but he took his hands out of his pockets.
    A figure stirred in an unlit doorway.
    "Mr. Emmett London?"
    Well, that was a first, Emmett thought. Small-time thugs who preyed on late-night bar crawlers rarely addressed their intended victims by name, let alone in a polite, damn near deferential tone.
    Which meant that the young man in the shadows of the doorway was probably not a garden-variety street thief.
    Emmett came to a halt and waited.
    The man stepped out of the shadows into the pale glow of the streetlamp. He was thin and lanky, and he had the trademark ghost-hunter slouch down cold. He also had the wardrobe. He was dressed in khakis, boots, and a supple black leather jacket with the collar pulled up around his ears in a rakish manner. His long hair was tied back at his nape with a black leather thong. He wore his amber in a belt buckle the size of a car.
    The size of one's amber wasn't important. It took only a small chunk of the stuff to focus psi power and convert it into a usable energy field. But try telling that to the flashy dressers.
    "Didn't mean to alarm you, sir. My name is Renny. I'm just the messenger."
    "That can be a high-risk profession."
    "That sounds like something the boss would say," Renny replied.
    "Who's your boss?"
    Renny scowled. "I'm a guildman. My boss is Mercer Wyatt."
    "Really?" Emmett smiled slightly. "You take orders from Wyatt?"
    Renny flushed. "Well, not directly, of course. Not yet, at any rate. But I'm movin' up fast in the Guild. One of these days I'm gonna take orders from the big man himself. Meanwhile, I get 'em through Bonner."
    "And what exactly did Bonner tell you to tell me?"
    Renny drew himself up as if preparing to recite from memory. "Mr. Wyatt requests your presence at dinner. His place."
    "Let me be sure I've got this straight. This is an invitation."
    "Yeah, right."
    "So why didn't Wyatt just pick up the phone and call me at my hotel?"
    Renny looked slightly taken aback by that suggestion.
    "With all due respect, sir, Mr. Wyatt is real big on tradition, y'know? He likes to do things in the old ways."
    "You mean he likes to run things the way they were run in the days following the Era of Discord. Somebody ought to tell him that times have changed."
    Penny's brow furrowed deeply. "Just because the Resonance City Guild decided to turn itself into some kinda wimpy business corporation doesn't mean the other Guilds got to do things that way. Here in Cadence, we're into tradition."
    "Well, Benny—"
    "Renny."
    "Excuse me. Renny. Tell you what. Go ahead and honor your traditions. In the meantime, not only is the Resonance Guild making money hand over fist, but one of the vice presidents is getting ready to run for a seat on the Federation Council."
    Renny's mouth dropped open. "The Council? Are you serious? A guildman is running for public office?"
    "He's mounting a campaign, and the latest polls show he's probably going to get elected. You know why? The voters think he's had a lot of good, solid business experience because of his executive position in the Guild."
    "Well, shit." Renny shook his head. "If that don't beat all. How the hell did they do it?"
    Emmett shrugged. "Let's just say that the last boss of the Resonance Guild decided he didn't like being regarded as the CEO of a racketeering mob. He