23
ULTRAVIOLET DREAMLIGHT STIRRED SLOWLY, SLUGGISHLY
deep within the lamp. Like some primordial sea beast aroused from
hibernation, the faint currents of energy shifted and swirled. She
watched the rising glow, excitement and fascination sweeping
through her. It was nearly midnight, but she had finally managed to
make the artifact heat a little with psi. She was on the right
track.
She had turned off the room lights earlier in order
to be able to focus more intently. She was sitting in darkness,
transfixed by the faint light of the lamp, trying to sort out the
currents when the jolt of awareness struck. It came out of nowhere,
shattering her concentration in a heartbeat. It took her a few
seconds to realize that the disturbing new energy was not coming
from the lamp. Jack.
She jumped to her feet and whirled to face the
entrance of the adjoining bedroom. There was enough light from the
cold neon of the casino sign across the street to show her that the
door was still closed. She released the air she had not realized
she had been holding in her lungs.
Jack was dreaming. But he had been asleep for
nearly two hours and until now she had not been bothered by any
stray dream vibes. He was in the other room with the door closed
between them. She shouldn’t even be able to sense him from this
distance. The energy that she was picking up not only was very
strong but also carried the taint of some kind of heavy
sedative.
He had promised her that he wouldn’t take any
meds.
She crossed the room, made a fist and rapped loudly
on the door.
“Jack? Are you okay?”
There was no response. Cautiously she opened the
door, expecting to see Jack lying on the bed. But he wasn’t there.
He was on his feet, looming directly in front of her.
“Jack. For Pete’s sake, you scared the
living daylights out of me.” She glanced behind him and saw that
the bed was still fully made. She could see the depression of his
body on the bedspread where he had sprawled earlier. He had removed
only his shirt and shoes. He was still in his trousers and black
crewneck T-shirt. In the sparking neon light his face was an
implacable mask, but his eyes burned with psi. So did the
footprints on the carpet behind him.
“Jack?”
“I’ll keep you safe.” The words were spoken in a
chilling monotone, devoid of all nuance and emotion. It was the
voice of a man in a trance.
She braced herself for the shock she knew was
coming and touched his shoulder. To her amazement there was no
electric crackle across her senses. She couldn’t believe it. She
was touching a person who was deep in the dreamstate, but her
senses were not recoiling from the brush with the energy
field.
She badly wanted to think about what it all meant,
to try to figure out the implications. But there was no time. She
had to deal with Jack’s sleepwalking.
He seemed unaware of her fingertips on his
shoulder. Cautiously she pulsed a little more energy, searching for
the pattern of the sleepwalking currents. She found it
quickly.
“Jack, wake up,” she said.
“You’re in danger.”
“Not now. Not tonight. Not from you.” She set up a
dampening current, trying to interrupt the heavy flow of
fugue-state energy. There was no response. That was not good news.
By now he should have been fully awake. “Jack, can you hear
me?”
He raised a hand and touched her face, his eyes hot
in the shadows. “I’m dreaming.”
Another kind of energy suddenly infused the
atmosphere. It was elemental, fiercely masculine and stunningly
sexual. It rattled her senses like the first winds of an oncoming
storm striking the closed windows of a well-sealed house. She was
suddenly disoriented and, for the first time, seriously
alarmed.
But underneath the rising tide of uncertainty and
confusion she was aware of the sensual heat shimmering to life
inside her. She knew what sexual attraction felt like. Under normal
circumstances the pleasant warmth and the sense of arousal were
nothing she couldn’t suppress or ignore if necessary. But what was
happening now could no more be ignored than lightning. And it was
probably just as dangerous.
“Yes, you’re dreaming,” she said. Her voice sounded
a little husky to her own ears.
She pulled more energy, struggling to push through
the compelling distraction created by the currents of desire so
that she could zap Jack with a stronger jolt of dreamlight. She
tightened her grip on his shoulder.
Psi flashed across the spectrum. To her heightened
senses the energy looked like iridescent snow falling through the
beams of a car’s headlights. She had no idea how Jack perceived the
sparkling, glittering waves of light, but she felt the change in
the pattern instantly.
Jack did not simply emerge from the trance—he
slammed into the waking state riding shockwaves of energy. The
currents of psi roared over her own energy field, swamping the
delicate pulses of dreamlight she was generating.
For a few seconds she felt consciousness start to
slide away into a very deep hole in the ground. The room spun
around her. The neon moonlight outside the window blazed as bright
as a spotlight. Instinctively she covered her eyes with her arm,
but that offered no protection. When she was using her other senses
she perceived light psychically, not with her normal vision.
Instinctively she shoved back at the raging tide
with all the energy at her command. She felt like a swimmer trying
to stay on the surface of a violent sea while a whirlpool
threatened to pull her down into the depths. For an eternity she
thought she might actually go under permanently.
Without warning the wavelengths of heavy psi
stopped trying to drown her. Instead, they began to resonate with
her own currents.
It happened so quickly she had difficulty
processing the shift. Between one breath and the next she was no
longer trying to block Jack’s power. Just the opposite—she was
responding to it in ways she had never dreamed were possible. Okay,
maybe she had dreamed about this kind of experience, she
thought, but she had never actually let herself believe it could
happen.
Awareness blazed in Jack’s eyes. She knew for
certain that he was no longer in the fugue state, but he was
running hot on intense sexual arousal. He was focused wholly and
entirely on her.
“Are you all right?” He closed his hands around her
shoulders. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m okay,” she managed, fighting not to sound
breathless. The feel of his strong hands sent shivers of excitement
through her. She wanted him to keep touching her. She wanted to
touch him, needed to touch him. “You were in a trance, just like
you described. I woke you up. As promised. All part of the
service.”
His fingers tightened around her. “I could have
hurt you.”
“No,” she said, very certain. She glanced past him,
checking out his smoldering footprints. “Never.”
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into going to
sleep without the meds.”
She flattened her palms on his chest. The sleek
muscles beneath the T-shirt felt very good. She tried to ignore the
sensation.
“Pay attention here, Winters. There is no problem.
I was able to bring you out of the fugue, just as I said I
would.”
He searched her face. “When I came back to my
senses I had the feeling that I was crushing you, overwhelming
you.”
“It was the first time I’ve ever tried anything
like that with someone as powerful as you. First times are always a
learning experience.” She sank her fingertips a little deeper into
the T-shirt. “I had to make a few adjustments, that’s all. Like I
said, no problem.”
Another one of her rules, she thought. Never let
the client think you might just possibly be out of your
depth.
He studied her, clearly awed, for a couple of
beats.
“You are one hell of a bad liar,” he said
finally.
“Hey, I learn fast, and I know what I’m doing now.
Look, it’s after midnight. Go back to sleep. And whatever you do,
don’t take any meds.”
“And if I sleepwalk again?”
“I’ll deal with it. Go back to bed, Jack.”
“I don’t want to go back to bed.” He pulled her
closer, not forcing her but making his intent clear. “Not
alone.”
She tried to think, but the fizzy, giddy elation
sweeping through her made thinking difficult.
“I have this rule,” she whispered. “About sleeping
with clients.”
“Chloe,” he said.
That was all he said. Just her name. But his voice
was rough and urgent. Sensual hunger heated his eyes and his aura.
The raw power of his still-hot senses created a dazzling whirlwind
in the small space. Her own currents were still resonating strongly
with his. Desire burned hot and deep inside her, incinerating the
last vestiges of caution. She knew that if she did not seize this
moment with this man she would regret it for the rest of her
life.
Entranced by the magic and the mystery of the
sensation, she raised her fingers to his face.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”