Read Obsidian Prey for Free Online Page B

Vincent. “Ready to go on a trip to the jungle, buddy?”
    Vincent chortled enthusiastically and scampered across the room. Lyra scooped him up and headed for the door.
    “Let’s go,” she said to Cruz. “The sooner I get your cretins out of the chamber, the sooner I can go to bed. It’s been a very long day.”

Chapter 4

    THEY ENTERED THE CATACOMBS THROUGH ONE OF THE official gates located inside the Dead City. That alone told Lyra just how seriously everyone was taking the situation.
    “Oh, wow,” she said when Cruz brought her to a halt at the doorway of one of the ethereal green quartz towers. “I get to go in through an actual authorized gate? I thought the only people allowed to use the Guild gates were corporate-and academic-sponsored R&D teams that paid top dollar for the privilege. I’m just a small-time independent, remember? Are you sure the Guild honchos know about this?”
    “I’m aware that you don’t like the Guild any better than you do Amber Inc.,” Cruz said.
    “Mostly because they have always worked hand in hand with AI to monopolize exploration underground and in the jungle, not to mention crush small indies like Dore Tuning & Consulting. Aside from that, I have absolutely nothing against either AI or the Guild.”
    “Do you think you could hold back on the sarcasm until we get those five people out of that chamber?”
    “Sorry. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.”
    “I noticed.”
    She gave him another glowing smile, aware that she was feeling downright reckless. Okay, so he hadn’t come crawling back on his hands and knees to beg her forgiveness. He was back, and like it or not, he needed her, at least for a short time. As vengeance went, it was pitiful, but it was something.
    They made an odd-looking pair, she thought. She was dressed for the jungle in the jeans and work shirt that she usually wore when she went underground. Cruz had removed his black jacket and tie, but he still had on the black trousers and black shirt he’d worn to the gallery reception. He had not wanted to waste time returning to his town house in a gentrified section of the Quarter to change clothes. But he had replaced his dress shoes with a pair of black leather boots, and he had a pack on his back. Both items had come out of the trunk of the Slider, where they were evidently kept for emergencies. Assassin informal, Lyra thought.
    There were no windows inside the tower room, but the interior green quartz floor, walls, and ceiling glowed gently, just as the outside walls did at night. As far as anyone knew, the aliens had never used any openings other than strictly necessary gates and doors in their aboveground structures. It was as if they had done everything possible to avoid letting sunlight and fresh air into their strangely graceful buildings. As far as the experts could determine, the lush, thriving surface of Harmony, with its fertile valleys, thickly forested mountains, broad rivers, and vibrant oceans, had been toxic to the long-vanished civilization. For the most part, the aliens had lived their lives underground.
    Two ghost hunters guarded the tunnel entrance. They were dressed in the traditional khakis and leather that rank-and-file Guild men favored. The macho attire went with the swagger. They had been lounging against a green wall when Lyra and Cruz walked into the chamber, but they straightened quickly.
    “Mr. Sweetwater,” one of the two said, nodding respectfully. “We were told to expect you. The sled is standing by down below. There’s an extra locator on board. Anything else you need, sir?”
    “Not at the moment,” Cruz said. “This is Miss Dore. She’ll be accompanying me to the site.”
    “Yes, sir,” the second man said. He gave Lyra an appraising survey. “They said you’d be bringing someone who could open that damned ruin.”
    “That would be me,” Lyra said coolly.
    “Yes, ma’am.” The first man eyed Vincent. “That a dust bunny?”
    “Yes,” Lyra said.