Bridal Jitters Read Online Free Page A

he had watched Virginia in action. She’d only had a handful of clients during the time she had been renting office space from him, and she had dealt with them on her own.
    He felt psi energy spark and shiver in the air. Very high-rez. He was impressed. She was as powerful as her academic credentials claimed.
    Technically speaking, she was an ephemeral-energy para-resonator; a tangler in common parlance. With the aid of the specially tuned amber that she wore in her earrings, she could focus her particular type of paranormal energy in a way that allowed her to neutralize the vicious and sometimes deadly illusion traps. The wicked snares were one of the hazards of para-archaeological work in the alien ruins. The vast majority of tanglers became para-archaeologists. It was one of two natural career paths, the second being the illegal antiquities market.
    An illusion trap was tricky. Once tripped, it released a web of ephemeral psi energy in an alien nightmare that enveloped the mind of the unlucky person who had triggered it. No two traps produced the same harrowing visions. Some were simple to de-rez, especially the really old ones. But in later Harmonic traps, the energy had been woven into complex patterns that defied all but the most skilled tanglers.
    No one who had ever survived the experience of being caught in an illusion trap’s web could ever fully describe the nightmares. Sam had sensed enough on the occasions when he had been zapped with some of the flashback energy from a poorly sprung trap to know that the visions were composed of unimaginable colors and a vertigo-inspiring darkness. The experts claimed that the nightmares lasted only a few minutes before the human brain sought refuge in unconsciousness. The resulting coma, however, could last for hours or days. When the victim eventually awakened, he or she invariably suffered an amnesia that cloaked most memories of the event. Some never recovered completely. They tended to end up in the para-psych wards of mental institutions. Others were so traumatized they could never work underground again.
    No one knew why the Harmonics had booby trapped their underground catacombs. Whoever their enemies had been, they were as long gone as those who had set snares for them.
    “Got it,” Virginia said with soft satisfaction. She took abreath and looked up from the jar. “Didn’t even heat up my amber. It’s clean.”
    “Nice job.” He picked up the jar and turned it in his hands, examining it from every angle. The fizz of malign energy that had warned him of the trap had ceased. The trap could be reset by a skilled tangler, but unless that was done, the unguent jar was safe to handle.
    He looked down into the interior. The unnatural, viscous shadow was gone. In its place was the ordinary darkness one expected to find in the interior of any small vessel. There was also something else inside the little jar. He pulled out a square of folded paper.
    Virginia frowned. “It looks like a note.”
    “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Maybe our prankster wants to brag. Thoughtful of him to provide a clue.” He unfolded the paper and read aloud the single sentence typed on it. “‘Happy Halloween. The ghosts and goblins are real in the catacombs this week. Stay out. This will be your only warning.’”
    “What in the world?”
    “Not real original,” Sam remarked.
    Virginia snatched the paper from his hand. “Let me see that.” Her brows drew together in a stern line as she read it silently. Then she looked at him. “What do you think this is all about?”
    “I think,” Sam said, “that one of Mac Ewert’s competitors doesn’t want us to go to work for him. Wouldn’t be the first time a rival has tried to scare off another team’s consultants.”
    “Huh.” She dropped the note into the trash. “Obviously whoever sent this doesn’t realize who they’re dealing with. The firm of Gage & Burch doesn’t get scared off
that
easily.”
    Sam saw the gutsy