"Aleksi, that's not fair."
"Fair?" She barked a laugh, and he heard the pain in it. "Life's not fair, Hutch. You know that." She turned back to the window. "You work and you try to make a life that you can live with, but there's always someone there to kick you in the stomach."
She fell silent and he didn't know what to say. Then he did. "Someone like Derrick Penningly."
"Exactly. There's always someone who will ruin you just because they can." She wiped her eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm feeling sorry for myself. Julie hates me, my dissertation's in the toilet, the police think I'm a murderer, and I miss Bob."
"Aleksi, you remember the night you asked me up to your apartment?"
"Yeah." She shook her head and looked down. "Yeah I remember. You were right. We'd both had too much to drink, and it was a bad idea."
"I'm sorry that it was a bad idea, Aleksi." She looked back up to meet his eyes in the window. "It would have created a scandal, but don't think that because I said no, that I don't think you're beautiful and alive and brilliant."
She turned around, wiping away tears, her eyes wide. She looked scared. "But…you…"
"Said no." He nodded. "Because it's still a bad idea. I'm your advisor. I can't."
"You were right about me, Hutch. I've changed." She stepped up to him, starring up into his eyes, her pupils large, irises flecked with gold that he didn't remember seeing before. "I dream about you every night. I come alive when I catch a whiff of your aftershave. I know it's a bad idea for us to get involved, but I can't stop thinking about you."
"Aleksi. Please. We can't. There'll be nine shades of hell to pay."
"I'll pay it. You're worth it." She reached up to brush her fingertips along his neck. "You're the first person in this world who has ever made me feel good about being me."
"Aleksi…" He couldn't say it. Not again. Cold bed, cold apartment, cold floor… Her touch sent shivers through his entire body.
"Oh my God." Her hand dropped away suddenly, and she stepped back, fear returning to her face. "Your career. I can't let you risk it. Not for me." She turned away again. "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid and selfish."
"Aleksi." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Wait. Please."
"Hutch, don't make it harder." She trembled under his hands.
"I want to make it easier, Aleksi."
She looked back then, tears streaking her cheeks. "What?"
"You said you'd pay it. So will I." He turned her around and cradled her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "You're worth it."
She stared at him. "But your career…"
"Aleksi, you're here, and you're going to spend the night. Who's going to believe that were not involved?" He smiled down into her face, and saw his eyes reflected in hers. "If there's hell to pay, we'll pay it."
She blinked at him. "I can't believe you're saying this to me." She sounded terrified.
"Believe it, Aleksi." He wiped more tears away. "It's real."
She made a sound, half laugh, half sob, all joy. Their first kiss was a little salty, and way more than he had bargained for.
Finally!" Willis threw his coat in the general direction of his chair and fluttered an envelope at his partner. "Judges will be judges. Took hours to get Haverty to sign the damn search warrants! He wanted to read the whole freakin' case file. I think it was the pics that finally decided him. Danger to the public, and all." He went to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup.
"Well, I don't know if I want to go through this tonight. It's already past six, it's Friday, and it's wicked cold out." Jasper looked at his watch and sighed. He'd hoped to wrap this up by the weekend, but that wasn't going to happen.
"What, you got a date?" Willis bolted half the cup of coffee and sank into his chair.
"It has been known to happen." He didn't, other than with a cold beer, his TV, and a frozen dinner, but that wasn't his partner's business. "Just because you're happily married, doesn't mean the rest of us don't have social lives."
"I'm happily married because my husband's a cop and understands cop hours, cop tempers, and cop stupidity." He finished his coffee and put his cup on his desk. "But now that you mention it, neither of these two is a flight risk, and I do owe Charles dinner and a movie."
"Then let's do this in the morning." Jasper pushed himself up from his chair and stretched. "We're more likely to get them both at home anyway. Even Harvard students have social lives, from what I understand."
"Who told you that?" Willis grabbed his coat and grinned.
"That professor guy, Hutchinson. Seems he's pretty strict about keeping his life separate from work."
"Wish I could." Willis laughed. "All I ever get at home is 'this perp,' and 'that perp,' and stories about handcuffs."
"That's what you get for marrying a vice cop."
Willis laughed. "Tomorrow then. Eight okay?"
"Let's start at seven. Element of surprise, you know."
"Okay." Willis grabbed his coat and headed for the door with a wave. "If there's one thing I love, its surprises."
Persephone was right, Aleksi thought, as she lay in Hutch's arms, listening to his breathing slow and deepen into sleep. I did need this, and he is very good.
Thinking back on the last hours, their tumultuous fumbling on the couch, then the floor, discovering things she'd never even dreamt, then a giggling groping shower, and finally a slow, sensitive, rocking experience in his bed that she thought would be the end of her—that if she died that moment, her life would end perfect—she realized that Persephone wasn't right about the second part. Hutch wasn't very good, he was magnificent. Not that she had any great experience with men. She'd had exactly two lovers before tonight, and neither of those had lasted more than two weeks. But Hutch was patient and gentle, strong and thoughtful, and he knew more about pleasuring a woman than any man had a right to.
Lying there, she was happier than she had ever been, but as with all of her happiness, it was tainted. Bob was dead, Julie was torn apart inside, Hutch was risking his career, and Aleksi was happy. It wasn't fair.
Life isn't fair.
Afraid of the dreams sleep would bring, she slipped out of his slack embrace and eased silently out of his bedroom. The sky had cleared, and moonlight streamed down on the crystalline cold scenery. She stood at the window, gazing out at the view in awe. Trees glowed white, covered with icy crystals, each tiny branch distinct. A few cars drove slowly down Memorial Drive, wary of icy streets. She could hear their tires crunching, see the puffs of steamy exhaust and the careful grip of cold hands on steering wheels. An intrepid couple walked along the foot path, arm in arm, their strides synchronous, talking about school, work, children…
I'm so changed, she thought, pressing a hand against the cool glass, feeling the night on the other side. Her hand shimmered with warmth, with life. She felt like she could sense her own blood racing through her veins.
She heard him wake, his first indrawn breath, then a sleepy, "Aleksi?"
"Out here," she said, reluctant to leave the view, the night, the beauty.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and she looked back to see him fumbling with a robe.
"Wonderful." She turned back to look into the crystalline night.
"You look amazing in the moonlight." He sidled up behind her and wrapped her in his robe, his hands cool on her skin. "You're so warm."
"Mmmm." She leaned into his embrace, clutching his arms around her, inhaling him. She felt safe. She felt loved. "Thank you, Hutch. For everything."
"My pleasure." He nibbled her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
She felt him stir and reached back under his robe. "Oh, my! Look what I've found!" She turned in his arms to fondle him more purposefully, nibbling at his collarbone and neck, feeling the faint stubble beneath her lips, tasting him.
He gave a little moan. "You're going to be the death of me, woman."
The statement, though she knew it was in jest, stopped her cold.
Her dreams came crashing in, memories of his flayed flesh, blood on her lips. She pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes.
"Never." She kissed him hard, pulling him to her and whispering in his ear. "Never say that!"
They made love once more that night. A very slow, tender, and in the end desperate coupling that left them both exhausted. She lay in his arms again, listening to his heartbeat, and let sleep take her. Her last waking thought was, Please, no dreams tonight.
But of course, there were.
27
She senses him. He is near. She can smell him, hear his heartbeat, feel his pulse in her chest.
Prey…
A memory invades her, flesh against flesh, penetrating warmth, fullness…ecstasy. But she is beyond that. Hunger stirs within her, banishing the memory.
She catches a glimpse of him, pale skin, lithe muscles playing underneath, and her mouth begins to water. Flesh, muscle, sinew, meat…prey.
She spreads her wings and closes in for the kill.
Hutch felt her stir against his back, her warmth like a furnace under the thick duvet. He was too warm, but didn't want to move and wake her up. She was breathing fast, twitching and flexing her hand against his chest, dreaming.
Let her dream, he thought, blinking his eyes open to glimpse the clock. Five ten. He moved slowly, flexing a few muscles one at a time to stretch without waking her. He was pleasantly sore.
Memories of last night sifted through his waking mind, pleasure and guilt all coming back. That he had begun a relationship with a student, breaking one of his own cardinal rules, felt like a knife in his conscience. There would indeed be nine shades of hell to pay, and if Dr. Oliver found out, it would double. But he had needed her, and she him. Bob's death, the loss, the wrenching pain of someone so young, with so much ahead of him, being brutally murdered had left a void in both of them that needed to be filled.
She stirred again, her arms flexing, pulling him close. Strong…
More memories of their lovemaking surfaced, and he felt the pulling warmth of desire center in his stomach and move down. God, what a lover she was. Never had he experienced a woman so eager, so willing, so joyous in her body, so centered on giving and receiving, so passionate.
Her hand twitched, fingers flexing against his chest, nails scratching. Sharp nails! He griped her wrist, not wanting to wake her, but not willing to get scratched, either. She resisted his grasp, her hand flexing hard against him, her body twisting.
She's having a nightmare, he realized, remembering her stories about bad dreams. He gripped her harder and shook her arm gently. "Aleksi." Her arm flexed hard, nails biting. "Aleksi! Wake up! You're dreaming!"
She pulled harder, nails raking, and her other hand against his back, grasping his shoulder. Pain lanced through him as those nails pressed into his skin.
"Aleksi!" He twisted, keeping his grip on her left wrist and grabbing the other.
She lunged up, flipping a leg over him, grasping him hard between her thighs. One glance at her face told him that something was wrong. Her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing, her face stretched in a rictus of…what? Anger? Rage? Hunger?
Her legs clamped down harder, and she reached for his throat. She's so strong! Hysterical strength. Then he saw her nails—no her claws! She flexed her fingers and the claws slipped from their sheathes, reaching for him, ready to rip him open.
"Aleksi! No!"
She stared into nothing and strained for his neck, so strong he could not hold her off, but she wasn't very heavy. Hutch brought his knees up, planted his heels and bucked hard, catapulting her forward. Her forehead cracked the headboard, and her arms went slack. Her eyes focused. She shook her head and stared at him in shock, then at her hands, at his grip on her wrists, and panic surged into her face.
Pain lanced through her head, and the nightmare vanished into a reality even more horrible. Hutch lay beneath her, his face contorted in fear, his grip hard on her wrists. There were scratches on his chest, parallel lines of red, not quite bleeding, and her nails…
"Oh my God!" Aleksi stared at her hands, at her nails, half an inch beyond the tips of her fingers, ridged and arched. And sharp! "No!"
She fumbled back, and he released her. She had to get away from him, had to flee before she hurt him, killed him, tore his flesh into long, bloody strips and feasted on it. She lunged away, but the blankets tangled her legs and she landed hard at the foot of the bed. Still panicked, she scrabbled back, knowing only that she had to put distance between them before she killed him. Her back struck the far wall of the bedroom, and her head cracked against it, stunning her slightly. She blinked, unable to think.
"Aleksi!" His shout pierced her panic. The memories of the bloody nightmare, the horror of waking ready to rip him open with her claws, still blocked her ability to think. Light flooded the room. He was out of the bed, coming to her, but she couldn't let him get close, couldn't touch him, couldn't ever touch him again.
"No! Don't!" She put out a hand to fend him off and stared at her fingers. New horror surged through her; her ring and pinky fingers were longer than the others, and at the base of each elongated nail a ring of tiny golden bumps, like fine scales, framed the cuticle. "What the fuck?"
"It was a dream, Aleksi." He knelt before her, edging cautiously closer. He held out a hand to brush her trembling leg. "A nightmare."
"Don't touch me!" She pulled away. Tears spilled from her eyes with the horror if it all. "Don't…I don't want to…" She couldn't stop staring at her hands, at the claws, the scales, the scratches on his chest. Memories of the wounds that had ended Bob Tomlin's life flooded her mind, and she choked back a sob. "I can't…" She drew her knees up and clutched her legs to her chest, rocking and sobbing, unable to think.
"Aleksi." His voice was soft, gentle. There was no more fear in his face, only concern. "Hey. It's okay. You didn't hurt me." He reached out again and touched her leg, and she was unable to draw back any further.
"Please…" The tears wouldn't stop, and he wouldn't stop touching her. "Don't…I'm not…safe."
"Aleksi, you're not going to hurt me. You're awake now. This isn't a dream."
Dreams, nightmares, reality…it all blurred in her mind. "How do you know I won't?"
"Because you won't." His fingertips gently stroking her clenched forearms. "Remember last night." A suggestion, not a question. "Remember us together. You won't hurt me. Not on purpose."
He smiled at her, gentle, patient, and her heart ached.
"Not on purpose…" The muscles of her forearms eased, and she relaxed from her panicked fetal posture.
"Come on." He stood and offered his hand. "Let me help you."
Aleksi reached out, tentative, careful, and put her hand in his. His grip was firm, cool and solid. She let him pull her to her feet and her knees almost gave way. He grabbed her arms, steadying her, and she clutched him closer, unable to help herself. He drew her into his arms, held her tight and rocked her back and forth.
"Better?"
"I…yes." She did feel better, but all the fear, all the panic lurked under the surface, ready to overwhelm her. She sniffed and pushed him away, steadier now. "But…" She held up a hand between them, turning it to show him the claws, the tiny rows of scales. "What the hell's happening to me, Hutch? I don't…I can't…"
"Shhhh." He took her hand in his. "We'll figure it out, Aleksi. Here." He released her and grabbed his robe from the bedpost. He wrapped her in the soft folds of flannel and gripped her shoulders. "We'll figure something out." He went to the dresser, pulled a pair of pajama bottoms and donned them. "We'll call someone. Get some help."
He lifted the phone from the night table beside the bed and pressed three digits. She heard the tones clearly, one low, then two higher. 911 New panic shot through her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Two steps and she snatched the phone from his grasp. She stabbed 'end' hard enough to crack the face.
"Aleksi! What…" His face was slack, a flicker
of fear behind his eyes.
"Nine-one-one?" Her ears were still ringing with the surge of panic. She cringed at the cracked face of his phone and put it back on the nightstand. "Sorry about your phone, but Christ, Hutch. What the hell do you think the police are going to do to me if they see this?" She held up one hand and flexed her claws out.
"Aleksi, I…" His eyes were wide, but then he nodded. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. You're right. But we've got to do something. We've got to get you some help."
"I'm all for help, Hutch, but being locked up in a cage isn't my idea of help." She clutched his robe closed and ran a hand through her hair. Several long strands came out in her grasp, and her eyes widened in new panic. "What the fuck?"
"Okay. You're right, Aleksi. No police, but we've got to think." He put his hands on her shoulders, gripping her hard. "Something physiological is happening to you. This isn't just nightmares or hallucinations. We've got to get some medical help. If it's some kind of infection, some reaction to something, maybe they can arrest it with antivirals or immune suppressants."
"You think this is an infection?" A faint memory tickled her mind, drew her eyes to her right palm. Something…
"I don't know, Aleksi, but we're both scientists, and this isn't some delusion. It's real." He pulled her face back to his, his palms cool on her cheeks. "I know quite a few doctors in the medical school. If anyone can crack this, they can."
"Doctors." Visions of needles, hospitals, wrist restraints… But she couldn't think of any other option. "I need coffee before I can deal with this."
"Good idea. And maybe something to eat." He took her hand in his and pulled her toward the kitchen.
You look like crap." Jasper lowered his feet from his desk and put his coffee cup down.
"Late night." Willis filled a cup and stirred in an obscene about of cream and sugar. He raised it to Jasper with a weak grin. "Breakfast of champions."
Dragon Dreams Page 24
