RS01 The Lost Night

by Jayne Castle

  “Run,” she gasped. She was breathing as hard as if she had been fleeing for her life. Her pulse pounded. “He’s here. Run.”

  “It’s all right,” Harry said. His arms closed around her, crushing her against his chest. “I’ve got you. He can’t touch you.”

  Harry’s heat and energy enveloped her. She was safe. She opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath. It was still dark, but the storm had dissipated into a gentle, steady rain.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, mortified. A woman who had grown up in the Harmonic Enlightenment community and trained at the Academy was supposed to have better control of her dreamscapes.

  “It’s okay.” Harry held her close. “It’s okay.”

  For a moment or two she allowed herself the luxury of being cradled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Gradually the remnants of the dreamscape faded and the real world closed around her. She listened to the light drumming of the rain on the roof of the SUV.

  After a while she forced herself to stir in Harry’s grasp even though she would have preferred to remain right where she was for whatever was left of the night.

  “Well, that was embarrassing,” she said.

  “You’re embarrassed by a bad dream?” Harry asked.

  “Of course. I’ve studied dream theory, lucid dreaming, and focused dreaming techniques since I was a kid. I control my dreams; they don’t control me.”

  “Sounds like a slogan or a bumper sticker.”

  “It is for a member of the Community. When I was five, my mother embroidered those words on a pillow for me. I’ve also got them engraved on the inside of my bracelet.”

  Automatically she raised her hand to show him the band of silvery metal that she wore around one wrist. The charms tinkled lightly, but the action caused the edge of the blanket to fall away. Belatedly she remembered that the blanket was all she was wearing unless you counted the panties, which, she concluded, were hardly worth mentioning. At least the darkness inside the vehicle offered a semblance of modesty. Then she remembered Harry’s excellent night vision.

  “Oh, geez.” Hastily she grabbed the edge of the blanket and clutched it to her throat. “This is getting more and more awkward by the second.”

  “Take it easy.” He released her, allowing her to sit up. “I’m not going to assault your virtue.”

  “I know.” Now she had offended him. Chagrined, she tried to wriggle off his thighs and into the other seat. In the process her hand came in contact with his bare shoulder. She froze, fascinated by the compelling heat and the sleek, masculine power of muscle beneath skin. “You’re all wet.”

  “I couldn’t squeeze over the front seat to get to you. It was easier to get out on my side and climb in beside you. That meant a couple of seconds in the rain. I’ll live.”

  “Yes, I know.” She did not take her hand off his shoulder. She was keenly aware of his scent, an exciting blend of the rain, the wild woods, and the essence of all that was male and Harry. She was enthralled. “But, still, it’s my fault. I’m sorry you had to get out in the rain again because of me.”

  In the shadows his eyes heated a little. Mostly with irritation she thought. But there was something else, there, as well, a hard, edgy flicker of arousal. It did not take a psychic’s intuition to recognize sexual desire in a man. She was suddenly very conscious of the hard muscles of his thighs beneath her hips.

  “You can stop apologizing anytime,” Harry said.

  “Okay. Right. No more apologies.”

  She should move. Now. But she did not want to move. Her hand was still on Harry’s rain-dampened shoulder. She tightened her fingers ever so gently and opened her senses to savor the full spectrum of sensation.

  Energy danced and shivered in the atmosphere. Her own, she thought. And his, too. She was well aware that her sexual experience was quite limited by the standards of most people her age. Nevertheless, her intuition assured her that whatever was happening tonight was not the norm. True, physical contact between two people of talent sometimes had unpredictable effects on the auras of both parties, but this flashing, sparkling excitement effervescing through her senses was unlike anything she had ever known. She did not need to see the paranormal heat in Harry’s eyes to know that he was aroused. She could feel it the old-fashioned way—through the fabric of the blanket and Harry’s jeans. His erection was pressing against her bottom.

  “It would probably be a really good idea to get off my lap,” he said. He sounded as if he was speaking through tightly clamped teeth.

  She raised her hand from his shoulder and touched the side of his hard jaw. “You saved my life tonight.”

  “You doused my after-burn fever. That makes us even.”

  “No.” She thrust her fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t.”

  “Damn it, Rachel—”

  “Would you mind very much if I kissed you?”

  For the first time he seemed to be caught off-guard.

  “A gratitude kiss?” he asked, sounding wary. “Because you think I saved your life?”

  “No.”

  “Because I woke you out of that nightmare?”

  “No. I just want to kiss you.”

  He stilled. “Why am I getting the feeling that you’re trying to run some kind of experiment?”

  “I suppose you could call it that. Do you mind? Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick and painless. It will be like it never happened.”

  He breathed in deeply. The heat in his eyes went up a notch, but she sensed that he was pulling hard on the fierce control that he used to handle his talent. She wondered briefly why he needed that kind of mag-steel power to deal with a simple kiss. Probably the result of the fever-burn earlier, she decided.

  Clutching his shoulder, she raised herself up a little and touched her mouth tentatively against his. It was meant to be a light, fleeting kiss; a butterfly kiss. But without any warning the intimate energy smoldering in the atmosphere flashed across the spectrum, igniting her senses. She was suddenly intoxicated with the dazzling excitement that swept through her.

  “Harry?” she whispered against his mouth.

  He did not answer—not with words, at any rate. She felt a shudder go through him, heard the groan deep in his throat, and then his arms clamped around her, crushing her against his chest.

  Chapter 12

  He could not remember the last time he had made out in the backseat of a car. Not since his teens, he thought. Things were definitely different this time.

  The fierceness of his arousal should have been all the warning he needed to know that the situation was getting out of control. But at that moment he just did not give a damn about maintaining control. He no longer cared if she was running some weird aura experiment.

  The hot currents of passion burned in the close confines of the backseat of the SUV. In its own way the energy flaring in the atmosphere was hotter than the paranormal fire that had consumed the gatekeeper’s cabin. He could not remember ever wanting or needing a woman as much as he wanted and needed Rachel tonight.

  He cradled the back of her head in one hand and deepened the kiss until her mouth opened beneath his. He heard a soft little moan and then she released her grip on the edge of the blanket and wrapped her arm around his neck. He could feel her soft breasts pressed against him. Her scent was an exotic drug, intoxicating all of his senses. Her feminine energy, teasing and tantalizing, flowed around him.

  She knew him for what he was and she did not fear him.

  He moved his free hand down to the sweet curve of her shoulder.

  “You’re so delicate,” he said against her mouth. “And warm. And soft.”

  She flattened her palm on his chest and spread her fingers. “You’re so hard. And so very, very hot.”

  Dread sliced through him. “The psi-fever?”

  “Not that kind of hot.” She laughed lightly. “The good kind of hot.”

  The touch of her hand on his bare skin was incredibly exciting. It took everythi
ng he had to keep from coming then and there.

  “Harry,” she said in an aching whisper. “I think something weird is happening here. Something about our auras.”

  “Define weird.”

  “Amazing.”

  “Amazing works for me.”

  He didn’t try to say anything else because he was pretty sure he was hovering on the brink of incoherence. Besides, he had better things to do with his tongue than talk.

  He pulled free of her mouth and kissed the warm, fragrant place just behind her ear. She twisted in his arms, curling into him. He slid his hand down to her breast and covered the tight bud of her nipple with his palm. She tensed and her nails sank into his chest but she did not pull away. Instead, she shivered and started to sip air in quick, shallow breaths.

  He shifted his hand down her side, savoring the feel of her sleek, smooth, resilient skin and the delicate bones beneath the surface. The curve of her hip was lush and firm and elegantly rounded.

  When he moved his hand between her thighs, she tensed, murmured something he could not quite catch, and then parted her legs. She kissed his chest. Her mouth was wet and warm.

  When he explored further, he discovered that she was as hot as liquid amber. He eased aside the thin scrap of fabric that barred his path. The panties were damp and not from the rain. When he eased a finger inside her, he found her tight and full. She shivered again and clutched at him. He sucked in a ragged breath.

  “If we’re going to stop, this is the time to do it,” he said.

  “Okay,” she gasped. “Okay.”

  She sounded distracted, as if her attention was focused on something far more important than the answer to his question. He realized that her fingers were on his belt buckle. He held his breath, everything in him taut and hard. The need for release was almost overwhelming.

  “I need clarification here,” he managed. “Was that okay, as in we should stop, or okay, as in let’s keep going?”

  “Okay, as in we should find out what this is all about.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I need clarification, too.”

  “Clarification.” What the hell did that mean?

  She tugged on his belt. “Absolutely.”

  He caught her face in his hands and raised her head. His senses were sparking wildly because of his aroused state. He did not have to focus his talent to see that her eyes were glowing like molten amber.

  “Rachel,” he said.

  “Yes?” She was a little breathless, shivering in his arms.

  “You’re sure you won’t regret this in the morning?”

  “Positive.” In the shadows her smile was a tantalizing mix of feminine invitation and challenge. “Are you always this hard to talk into bed?”

  A sound that was half laugh and half groan rumbled at the back of his throat. He pulled her head down on his shoulder and held her there while he ripped off the panties. Then he finished the job that she had started on his belt buckle and went to work on his zipper. At last his straining erection was free.

  He settled her so that she rode him astride, clamped his hands around her thighs, and urged her downward. He stopped when he discovered that she was clenched tightly against him.

  “Relax,” he whispered.

  “I can’t relax,” she said. Her nails dug into his shoulders. “I feel like I’m about to come apart.”

  “So do I. We’ll do it together.”

  He stroked her until she was hot and melting and shivering with need. Then he pushed slowly into her, gently forging a passage through the tense little muscles.

  “Harry.”

  At last he was inside where he needed to be, and she closed snugly around him. She rose once, twice, three times, and then her release struck. He could not have resisted the compelling heat and energy even if he had wanted to do so—and that was the very last thing he wanted.

  He thrust into her one last time and then his climax powered through him, taking him out of himself. Energy flashed in the heated atmosphere. And suddenly the wavelengths of his aura were no longer clashing and challenging Rachel’s—just the opposite. He could have sworn that their currents were resonating in a harmonious pattern that increased the power of both energy fields.

  The breathtaking intimacy of the experience was beyond anything he had ever known. He longed to hold on to the sensation forever. Somewhere in the darkness he heard the sweet, seductive music created by the gently clashing charms on Rachel’s bracelet.

  Chapter 13

  A loud thump on the hood of the SUV and a muffled chortle woke Rachel. She opened her eyes to the gray light of dawn. The rain had stopped and she could no longer hear any wind.

  She lay quietly for a few seconds, orienting herself. She was a little stiff and cramped and she was wrapped in the blanket. She realized she was looking at the roof of the cargo bay.

  Another muffled chortle sounded from the front of the vehicle. She sat up cautiously, wincing a little when she felt the slightly bruised sensation between her legs.

  She looked out the window and saw Darwina, Amberella in one paw, bouncing up and down on the hood. There was no sign of Harry. Beyond the charred remains of the cabin she could see the woodshed. The door was open.

  The hot memories flooded back. After the heated lovemaking—no, after the hot sex, she mentally corrected herself—Harry had lowered the rear seats to make room for both of them to stretch out for the rest of the night. She had a vague recollection of him pulling her into the curve of his body and locking her there with one strong arm. After that, she had slid into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She found her clothes draped over the front passenger seat where Harry had moved them. Getting dressed proved to be a serious struggle. Her panties and bra were dry but the pullover top and jeans were still damp. So were her socks and the new boots. Her lovely leather jacket would never be the same, but she told herself that the coolest leather jackets always looked somewhat battle-scarred. Her hair was a disaster.

  All in all, she could not wait to get home and into a hot shower.

  She took two energy bars from the emergency kit, opened a door, and got out. Although the storm had cleared, the atmosphere still shivered with the currents of psi leaking out of the Preserve. The smell of charred wood drifted on the air. The temperature was warming up rapidly, but in her damp clothes she felt chilled.

  She unwrapped one of the bars as she walked toward the front of the SUV. Darwina cackled cheerfully, waved Amberella, and vaulted onto her shoulder. Rachel gave her the other energy bar.

  “And where did you spend the night, missy?” Rachel asked.

  Darwina, munching enthusiastically on the energy bar, ignored the question.

  Rachel took a bite out of her own bar and started around the blackened ruins, heading toward the woodshed.

  The two firebombers stumbled out into the clearing, their hands secured behind them. In the dreary light of the cloudy dawn they looked as young as they had sounded last night. She doubted that they were even out of their teens. When she raised her talent a little, she could see that they were dazed and scared. A couple of kids who were in way over their heads, she thought. She could have dredged up some sympathy for them if they hadn’t torched the cabin and tried to kill Harry and her.

  Harry emerged from the darkness of the shed. He did not look like a man who had survived a raging inferno, taken down a couple of young thugs, engaged in torrid sex, and then spent the rest of the night sleeping in the cramped confines of an SUV. On second thought, maybe he looked exactly like that kind of man—one who did that sort of stuff on a routine basis and took it all in stride. Whatever the case, he definitely looked good in the early light.

  He was back in black. Her jeans might be damp and uncomfortable but evidently his clothes had dried just fine. She might be moving somewhat stiffly this morning, but he glided across the clearing with a virile, masculine grace. Her hair was straggling around her face, but it was obvious that he had raked his fingers through his
own dark hair, pushing it back behind his ears where it had obediently stayed.

  Awareness fluttered through her, and more memories of the night heated her senses. My lover, she thought. At least for one night.

  Harry glanced at her. There was no psi-heat in his eyes this morning, just the familiar everything’s-under-control-here look.

  “Good timing,” he said. “I was about to wake you. We’re going to put this pair in the back of the SUV and drive them into town, assuming the road is passable after that storm. Officer Willis can lock them up. I want to talk to each of them separately.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Rachel said. “Want me to call Kirk Willis and give him a heads-up?”

  “I just tried to do that,” Harry said. “No luck. The phones are out.”

  “Not surprising after that storm.”

  Darwina stopped munching the energy bar long enough to growl at the two young toughs.

  “It’s okay,” Rachel said. She gave Darwina a small, reassuring pat. “Thanks to you, they won’t be torching any more houses for a while.” She looked at Harry. “What will you do if these two start yelling for a lawyer?”

  The one named Vince brightened. “Yeah, I have a right to a lawyer.”

  Harry looked at Rachel. “Are there any lawyers on Rainshadow?”

  “Good question,” she said. “If they’re here, they are keeping a very low profile.”

  Harry nodded once, satisfied. “In that case, we won’t worry about that problem.”

  “You can’t put us in jail,” the other kid said. But he sounded uncertain.

  “Watch me,” Harry said. He gave Rachel a brief, assessing glance. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you can handle a mag-rez?”

  “Are you kidding?” she said. “I’m HE, remember? We don’t do things that involve weapons. Guns are associated with violence, and violence creates all sorts of disharmony in the aura. Very Unenlightened. Takes hours of meditation to get the currents resonating properly again.”