by Nora Roberts
is, she was interested. She’s exploring herself, and this is part of it. I’m sorry it upsets you; I was afraid it would. And if I’d been paying more attention to the time, I’d have shut it all down before you got home.”
“So you’d have hidden it from me? That’s a nice touch.”
His own temper rumbled. “Tough to win with you, Deputy. No, I’ve never hidden my work from you, and I wouldn’t have done so now. But I’d have tried to respect your feelings about it, as I’ve tried to do from the start.”
“Then why—”
He cut her off by holding up one finger. “The simple fact is, thisis my work, and you have to deal with that. But this is your home, and my being here under these circumstances upsets you. I’ll apologize for that. It’ll only take me about fifteen minutes to break this down and get it out. I’ll tell Nell I’ll take a rain check on dinner.”
“Oh, stop being such a jerk.”
“You know, Ripley, you just keep pushing and pushing until nobody wins.”
When he turned away to remove his camera from the tripod, she reached up, pulled her own hair until the sharp pain cleared her head. “Maybe I do. I didn’t ask you to leave.”
“What are you asking?”
“I don’t know! I come home after a pisser of a day, I’m tired and I’m irritable, and I walk in on you doing your mad scientist routine with Nell, who’s obviously not only cooperating but enjoying the hell out of it. I wanted a damn beer and a hot shower, not a confrontation.”
“Understandable. I can only apologize for the timing. It doesn’t change the fact that this is what I do.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Nor, she realized with a twinge, did it change the fact that she’d jumped down his throat because of it. That he’dexpected her to.
Not only was she being a bitch, she was being a predictable bitch. It was lowering.
“You missed a level.”
He packed his camera, closed up his laptop. “Which is?”
“I want to know why you didn’t ask me.”
“I couldn’t ask you if you’d mind if I ran tests with Nell because you weren’t here to be asked.”
“No, why didn’t you ask me to run them with you?” As he stopped unhooking cables to stare at her, she shrugged. “I think it’s rude that you went to Nell before you came to me.”
Just when he thought he had her pegged, she changed the pattern on him. “Would you have agreed?”
“I don’t know.” She huffed out a breath. “Maybe. I’d have thought about it, anyway. But you didn’t ask.”
“Are you serious, or are you just using this angle to twist things up so I come out being a jerk?”
There was no arguing that however geeky he might be from time to time, his mind was a scalpel that cut through all the bullshit in one swipe. “The jerk part’s just a side benefit. I shouldn’t have jumped on you that way. Taken jabs at you and your work. I’m sorry for it.”
“Now you’re apologizing. I have to sit down.”
“Don’t milk it, Booke.” But she went to him, laid her hands on his arms. “Why don’t you get us those beers, then while I’m taking that hot shower you can explain to me what all this stuff’s for. Maybe I’ll let you use it on me.”
“I can do that.” He reached up to take her hands before she could slide them away. “But I have a question first. Why are you considering it now?”
“Because it’s like you said. It’s your work, your deal. I respect you, Mac. So it looks like I’m going to have to start respecting what you do.”
Not one of his professional or academic accolades had ever given him such pleasure as that one hard-won statement did. He stepped closer to her, framed her face with his hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’re still a jerk.”
“Understood.” He felt her lips curve into a smile under his when he kissed her.
“Paranormal science—”
“Now, see, there you lose me, right at the kickoff,” Ripley complained. “Because to me that’s an oxymoron.”
They were in her bedroom, with her sitting cross-legged on the bed while he set up his equipment.
“There was a time when astronomy was considered outside the mainstream. If science doesn’t push the accepted scope, study the possibilities, it stagnates. We don’t learn anything by standing still.”
“Science and education are part of what turned magic from the acceptable into the condemned, then into the dismissed.”
“You’re right, but I would add ignorance, intolerance, and fear to that mix. It’s science and education that may, in time, turn the tide back again.”
“They hunted us down, slaughtered us and countless others.”
It was in her voice, he thought. Cold rage, hot fear. “You can’t forgive that?”
“Could you?” She moved her shoulders restlessly. “I don’t dwell on it, but it pays to remember what can happen when fingers start to point.”
“You’re worried about what might happen to you if outsiders look too close.”
“I can take care of myself. Just as the sisters took care of themselves. Do you know how many witches were hanged in Salem Town, Mac? None,” she said before he could speak. “All were innocent, powerless victims.”
“So you’re a cop,” he said, “because you’ve chosen to protect the innocent and the powerless as others once weren’t protected.”
She started to speak, then just hissed out her breath. “You don’t have to be a superhero to keep order on Three Sisters.”
“That’s not the point, though, is it? You protect, Mia educates—books—and Nell nurtures. You’ve all chosen to do what you can to heal old wounds. To balance.”
“That’s all a little deep for me.”
He ran his hand gently over her hair before he bent down to hook up cables.
The gesture, the simple gentleness of it, loosened every muscle in her body.
“Have you ever been hypnotized?”
Just as that question tightened all her muscles up again. “No. Why?”
He glanced back at her. Briefly, casually. “I’d like to try it. I’m licensed.”
“You didn’t do that weird stuff with Nell.”
“I’ll ignore the wordweird . No, I didn’t use hypnosis with Nell. I didn’t want to push it. But you and I have a different relationship and, I like to think, a different level of trust. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I know that. It probably wouldn’t work on me, anyway.”
“That’s part of what I’d like to see. It’s a simple process, based on relaxation techniques, and perfectly safe.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“Good. Why don’t you lie down?”
“Just wait.” Panic ticked at her throat. “How come you can’t just follow the same routine you did downstairs with Nell before dinner?”
“I could. I’d like to add a few tests, if you’re willing. First, I’m interested in seeing if your gift makes you more, or less, susceptible to hypnosis. And if you can be hypnotized, if you’re able to demonstrate power in that state.”
“Have you considered that in that state I might not have perfect control?”
He nodded absently while he nudged her back on the bed. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it?”
“Interesting. Jesus. You’ll recall that Mia fried one of your toys when she was a little miffed.”
“That was cool. But she didn’t hurt me,” he reminded Ripley. “And neither will you. I’m just going to hook you up now. I explained what the machines are for.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You need to lose the sweater.”
She glanced toward the camera, smirked. “So do you and your fellow geeks watch these tapes at stag parties?”
“Absolutely. Nothing like watching a video of a half-naked woman to break up the tedium of lab work.” He kissed her forehead before affixing the first electrode. “But I’ll keep this one in my private collection.”
/> He took her through the same steps as he had Nell. Casual questions, monitoring and recording her resting vital signs. There was a slight shift when he asked her to do a small, basic spell. Anxiety, he noted. She wasn’t completely comfortable opening herself to power.
But she obliged, and the lights in the adjoining bath switched off and on rapidly.
“I used to do that when Zack was in the shower, when we were kids,” she said. “Just to piss him off.”
“Give me something bigger, more demanding.” Her heart rate was up more than Nell’s had been. Anxiety again, he decided. But the brain-wave patterns were remarkably similar.
She cupped her hands, lifted them. He saw the ball of light glow, then shoot up to the ceiling. Another followed, still another. As he watched them take position, he grinned.
“It’s a baseball field. Infield, outfield, nine players.”
“Batter up,” she said and sent another light into her batter’s box. “I used to do this as a kid, too.” And had missed it, she realized. “When I couldn’t sleep, or didn’t want to. Let’s see how he likes a fastball.”
Another light, small and blue, shot out from the pitcher’s mound. There was a snap of sound, a burst of streaming light. “Yes! Base hit, deep right field. Let’s stretch it into a triple.”
Forgetting his machines, Mac sat on the foot of the bed and watched, marvelously entertained, as she played through an entire inning.
“Keep it going,” he urged. “How old were you when you first recognized and used your gift?”
“I don’t know. It just always seemed to be there. Double play, smooth as silk.”
“Do you ever play on a terrestrial field?”
“Sure. Hot corner—I’ve got great hands. You?”
“No. Too clumsy. Divide eighty-four by twelve.”
“Struck him out! And the side retires. Divide what? That’s math. I hate math.” Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t say there was going to be a quiz.”
“Give it a shot,” he told her and rose again to check the readings.
“Twelve’s one of the sucky ones. Hanging curveball, low and outside. It’s six, no, wait. Damn it. Seven, seven times two is fourteen, and carry the deal to the other deal. Seven. So what?”
Excitement trickled through him, but all that showed in his voice was amusement. “So you strained your left brain a bit, but maintained the pattern.”
She breezed through the backward alphabet. He wasn’t entirely sure what that said about her mind or her personality, but her readings remained high and steady. “Okay, close the spell.”
“But I’ve got a man out and a man on.”
“We’ll pick it up later.”
“This is starting to feel like school,” she complained, but opened her hands again and drew the lights down, extinguished them.
“I need you to relax again. Breathe in through your nose, out gently through your mouth. Slow, deep breaths.”
Ready to pout about the game delay, she looked over at him. And saw what Nell had seen. Cool, calm control. “I’m relaxed enough.”
“Breathe, Ripley. Count the beats. Slow, deep, easy.”
He sat on the side of the bed with her, checked her pulse with his fingers. “Relax your toes.”
“My what?”
“Your toes. Let your toes relax, let all the tension slide out.”
“I’m not tense.” But he felt her pulse kick. “If this is your prelude to hypnosis, it’s not going to work.”
“Then it won’t work.” Watching her face, he trailed his fingers to the pulse in the curve of her elbow, back to her wrist. Soft, steady strokes. “Relax your feet. You’ve been on them most of the day. Let the tension go out of them. Out of your ankles.”
His voice was so quiet, so soothing. His fingers on her skin were a lovely, light connection.
“Relax your calves. It’s like warm water flowing up through your body, washing out the tension. Your mind’s relaxing, too. Just let it empty out. Your knees are relaxing now, your thighs. Visualize a soft white field. Nothing on it. It’s easy on the eyes. It relaxes them.”
He drew the pendant from under his shirt. Wrapped the chain twice around his hand. “Breathe in the calm, expel the tension. It’s safe here. You can just drift.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me I’m getting sleepy?”
“Ssh. Breathe. Focus on the pendant.”
Her pulse jumped again when he held it up in her line of vision. “That’s Mia’s.”
“Relax. Focus. You’re safe. You know you can trust me.”
She moistened her lips. “This isn’t going to work anyway.”
“The pendant’s in front of that white wall. It’s all you can see, all you need to see. Let your mind clear. Just look at the pendant. Listen to my voice. It’s all you need to hear.”
He took her down in stages, gently, until her eyelids began to droop. Then slid her deep.
“Subject is unusually susceptible to hypnosis. Vital signs are steady, readings typical for a trance state. Ripley, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to remember that you’re safe and that you’re not to do anything that you’re not willing to do and comfortable doing. If I ask you to do anything that you don’t want to do, you’re to tell me no. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Are you able to stir the air?”
“Yes.”
“Will you do so? Gently.”
She lifted her arms, as if for an embrace, and the air moved over him like a soft wave of water.
“How does that make you feel?” he asked her.
“I can’t explain. Happy, and afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“I want it too much, want too much of it.”
“Close the spell,” he ordered. It wasn’t fair to ask her questions like that, he reminded himself. She hadn’t agreed to it before he’d put her under. “Remember the lights? The baseball lights? Can you bring them back?”
“I’m not supposed to play after bedtime,” she said, and her voice had changed subtly, become younger and full of mischief. “But I do.”
He stared at her rather than the lights she threw toward the ceiling. “Subject has regressed, without direct suggestion. The childhood game appears to have triggered the event.”
The scientist in him wanted to pursue it, but the man couldn’t follow through.
“Ripley, you’re not a little girl. I want you to stay in this time and place.”
“Mia and I had fun. If I didn’t have to grow up, we’d still be friends.” It was said sulkily, her mouth in a pout as she played the lights.
“I need you to stay in this time and this place.”
She let out a long sigh. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Can I touch one of the lights?”
“It won’t hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” She brought one down until it hovered above his hands.
He could trace it with his finger, a perfect circle. “It’s beautiful. What’s inside you is beautiful.”
“Some is dark.” As she said it, her body arched, and the lights flew around the room like bright stars.
Instinctively Mac ducked. The lights began to whistle shrilly and pulse bloodred.
“Close the spell.”
“Something’s here. It’s come to hunt. To feed.” Her hair began to twist into wild curls. “It’s come back. One times three.”
“Ripley.” Lights flew past his face as he rushed back to her. “Close the spell. I want you to close the spell and come back. I’m going to count back from ten.”
“She needs you to guide the way.”
“I’m bringing her back.” Mac gripped shoulders he knew were no longer Ripley’s. “You have no right to take her.”
“She is mine and I am hers. Show her the way. Show herher way. She must not take mine, or we are lost.”
“Ripley, focus on my voice. Onmy voice.” It took all his control to keep his voice soot
hing. Firm but calm. “Come back now. When I reach one, you’ll wake up.”
“He brings death. He craves it.”
“He won’t get it,” Mac snapped. “Ten, nine, eight. You’re waking up slowly. Seven, six. You’re going to feel relaxed, refreshed. Five, four. You’ll remember everything. You’re safe. Come back now. Wake up, Ripley. Three, two, one.”
As he counted down, he saw her come back, not just to the surface of consciousness but physically. As her eyelids fluttered, the lights vanished, and the room was still.
She breathed out, swallowed. “Holy shit,” she managed, then found herself plucked off the bed into his lap and crushed in his arms.
Seventeen
He couldn’t lether go, couldn’t stop blaming himself for taking chances with her. Nothing he’d seen, experienced, theorized, had ever terrified him the way watching Ripley change in front of him had done.
“It’s all right.” She stroked his back, patted it. Then realizing they were both trembling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight. “I’m okay.”
He shook his head, buried his face in her hair. “I should be shot.”
Since gentle soothing wasn’t working, she switched tactics into something more natural to her. “Get a grip, Booke,” she ordered and shoved at him. “No harm, no foul.”
“I took you under, left you open.” He pulled back, and she could see it wasn’t fear on his face but fury. “It hurt you. I could see it. Then you were gone.”
“No, I wasn’t.” His reaction had given her little time for one of her own. Now her stomach quivered. Something had come into her. No, she thought, that wasn’t quite right. Something had comeover her.
“I was here,” she said slowly, as she tried to puzzle it out for herself. “It was like being underwater. Not like drowning or sinking, but just . . . floating. It didn’t hurt. More of a quick shock, then the drift.”
Her brows drew together as she thought it through. “Can’t say I cared for it, though. I don’t like the idea of being tucked aside so someone else can have her say.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Fine. Actually, I feel great. Stop taking my pulse, Doc.”
“Let me get these things off you.” But when he started to remove the electrodes, she closed a hand over his wrist.
“Hold on. What did you get out of all that?”
