by Amber Carew
He sipped his hot chocolate. He’d gotten hooked on it when Fiona brought him a cup mid-afternoon. When he’d tried it, he’d decided it was love at first taste--similar to his reaction to Lucinda and the first time he kissed her--and he’d indulged in several since then. Also similar to kissing her.
"Actually, I am coping quite well."
Absently, she drummed her fingers on the armrest. "That’s what confuses me. For someone who’s in such a strange situation, you’re taking it a little too well."
He placed his mug on the coffee table and laced his fingers together.
"Lucinda, I am as anxious to find out who I am and what happened as you are, but anxiety will not help me attain that goal. I have a feeling of rightness being here with you and I am confident you will help me discover who I am. And more." He leaned forward and took her hand, sending shimmering awareness scooting up her arm. "That coupled with the knowledge that you and I are meant to be together--"
She tugged her hand away. "As mentor and student."
His gaze drew hers like the sun draws a comet, then held it captive.
"We will be much more than that."
The solemnity of his words seeped into her, like water into cracked, dry soil, making her believe a carefully nurtured seed of love just might grow if she allowed it to take root.
Fool. It’s only his way of keeping you off balance.
She ignored Nyte’s comment, not allowing herself to be distracted from her purpose.
"Wherever you’re from, or rather whenever, you seem comfortable in today’s world." Which seemed a direct contradiction to the fact that Rand insisted he was a wizard from way in the past and that he’d been missing for countless centuries. "You don’t seem to be intimidated by our modern gadgets." Not that she’d expect Nyte to be intimidated by anything, but he shouldn’t be quite as at ease as he seemed. "Do you remember anything about before?"
"No, I have no memory of the time before you found me. At least, nothing concrete."
She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
He sighed and leaned back, settling comfortably against the couch. "I have a sense that this place isn’t exactly like the one I’m from, but there are many similarities. Gadgets, as you call them, don’t seem new to me. I also believe I’ve had to adjust to radically different situations over time."
She nodded, though she really didn’t understand. "That would explain your adaptability, I suppose."
The mystery of Nyte grew deeper and more obscure with time, and she found herself desperately wanting to shed light on it.
She hesitated. Over dinner, she’d had an idea that might help him, but it involved interacting with his energy field again. After the strong effect of this afternoon’s encounter, she was wary.
But she had to make every effort to help him. He was her responsibility. And besides, she was a tenth level wizard. She could handle this situation.
With a quick swallow of Coke, she pushed aside her wariness.
"I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind. It may help bring back your memory."
His features aligned in a keen look of interest. "By all means."
She leaned toward him, resting her elbows on her knees. "It will involve... touching you."
He smiled wickedly. "All the better." His velvet voice brushed across her in a sensuous caress.
A jittery tremor traveled from the bottom of her stomach to her throat. Touching him could only mean trouble. She was far too susceptible to his charisma.
On the other hand, she had to try this.
"Lie down on the couch," she directed.
He said nothing, but a devilish gleam lit his eyes.
"Stop looking at me like that. This is a healing technique, nothing more."
He reached forward and took her hand, then drew it to his lips. "I’m sure the touch of these hands could heal my very soul."
The tremor within her turned into a full-blown earthquake.
He settled into position on the couch, his muscular body stretched out before her. Man but she’d love to do some exploring of that landscape, and not for health reasons. In fact, she was certain it would prove decidedly negative to her emotional health.
She tugged the hand-crocheted afghan--a gift from a client--from the back of the couch and covered his magnificent body, hoping if she couldn’t see it, she wouldn’t lust after it. She hadn’t counted on the blue ripple pattern drawing her gaze the length of his body, and emphasizing the breadth of his chest and narrowness of his waist.
She knelt beside the couch and drew in a deep breath, concentrating on the role of healer. This time, she would not allow hormones to bombard her like overheated popcorn, jerking her senses into a frenzy.
She laid her hands on the sides of his head. Nervousness quivered through her as his magical energy mingled with hers. A trembling wave of desire surged through her, but she focused on her purpose and slowly--infuriatingly slowly--it eased back. It still lapped at the edge of her consciousness, but she could ignore it for now.
His long, silken hair threaded around her fingers as she pressed her palms against his cheeks. His breath whispered across her face. His dark eyes watched her and she felt far too close and far too exposed.
"It will be better if you close your eyes," she said. For her, not him, but she didn’t have to admit that.
He closed his eyelids, shuttering those intense, disturbing eyes from view.
She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Then again. After several moments, a calmness settled over her. She focused her healing senses on his physical form.
She felt nothing out of alignment in his head, the first place she would have expected to find an injury that might cause amnesia. She drew her hands downward, over his chest. Strong, healthy muscle and bone was all she sensed. As she drew her fingers over the tight muscled ridges of his stomach, she noticed he was having a uniquely male reaction to her touch. An impressive bulge stretched his pants taut. An answering twinge convulsed in her vagina. She felt a blush tinge her cheeks and thanked heaven his eyes were closed. She shifted to his hips, then down his legs.
No sign of injury anywhere.
In fact, the incredible health of his physical body stunned her. No signs of wear and tear, no signs of stress or deterioration. It just seemed... brand new. She found no signs of an injury that might have triggered amnesia.
She flattened her palms on either side of his collarbone and curled her fingers over his shoulders, ignoring the feel of solid muscle under her hands and the intimacy of his body so seductively close to hers.
She forced the erratic rhythm of her breathing to calm, until it became deep and even, at the same time emptying her mind of every thought but one.
Heal Nyte’s amnesia.
She felt the energy within him, let it guide her hands across his body. They shifted down his chest, then to the right. A feeling of agitation skittered through her, indicating an area of energy disruption. She needed to feed energy to it and smooth out the flow. She shifted to the center of the disturbance.
Instead of feeling heat, as she would expect from a recent hurt, she felt intense cold. The energy pulsed in her palms, like a live thing snuggling against her flesh, but as she concentrated on healing the wound, it drained from her hands as if the extreme cold was sucking the life from her. She concentrated on drawing more energy through her body, to feed the frigid hole.
A swirling torrent swept through her. Dizziness. Disorientation. Pain. Blackness.
More energy. She needed to draw more. She felt it quiver through her body like electricity through a wire. But it wasn’t enough to fill the deep well of agony within him. She felt herself dragged down, falling into the icy depths of hell.
"Lucinda, what’s wrong?"
Nyte’s words sounded very far away. She struggled to drag herself from the cataclysmic pull, but the need to close that gaping wound and heal the anguish blocking memory from his conscious mind was too strong.
&nb
sp; "Lucinda!"
Warm hands covered her own and dragged them from his body. At the sudden disconnection, her eyelids popped open and the world seemed to spin around her. She realized she was sprawled across Nyte’s body. He held her hands firmly within his own, and he rubbed them vigorously as his dark gaze, filled with concern, searched her face.
"Lucinda, you should not have put yourself in danger to help me."
He sat up and drew her onto his lap. As he held her against his chest, he stroked her back gently. She shivered in his embrace. He tugged the afghan around her shoulders and she welcomed its warmth.
Had she been in danger? She’d never experienced anything like that before, where she felt she might lose herself in the process of healing. She’d never felt anything so disturbing.
She shook uncontrollably and he held her closer, pressing her cheek in a comforting position against his chest.
"My God, Nyte, what happened to you?"
"I don’t know, Lucinda. That’s why I’m here." His words were calm, spoken in a reassuring tone. He continued to stroke her back in short, soothing caresses.
A disturbing thought bolted through her. Tomorrow afternoon she would start training him. As he attained his magical powers, he would probably regain his memories.
When his memory did return, what horrific incident would he have to face?
* * * *
The next morning, after Lucinda went to her office, Nyte sat down with the small stack of magazines she had left for him, then quickly read and discarded them. He perused a few books from her shelf, but he wanted to find out about the current culture, so he turned to the television, which Lucinda had shown him how to operate last night. He found the commercials absolutely fascinating.
When Lucinda returned at noon, Nyte was watching a documentary. She piled a new set of magazines in the magazine rack, then announced she would start Nyte’s training that afternoon.
He looked forward to learning how to work magic, but more importantly, he knew it was the way to unlock the secrets of his past.
After lunch, she led him to a large room across the back of the house. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, except where a worktable stood against one and a desk against another. Her preference for a bright decor reflected in this room. The furniture was all white, and paintings of cool pastel shades decorated the walls.
A crystal ball sat in a prominent place on one of the shelves and several crystal pendulums hung on hooks behind it. She had a wide selection of colored stones--ranging from bright and speckled to subdued and translucent--in various clear bowls around the room.
One small shelving unit, mounted over a table, was dedicated to tiny pewter figures of dragons and wizards in various poses.
Nyte watched as Lucinda selected a large, moss green, leather-bound book from one shelf and set it on the desk in front of her, then started flipping through the pages.
He looked forward to exercising this energy field she’d explained to him.
Magic. It seemed such a natural concept. He had no idea why she thought he would doubt it, yet he had no trouble accepting the fact that most people would have trouble believing in it. Odd. Once his memory returned, perhaps it would make more sense to him.
He wished he understood what had happened to Lucinda during her attempt to heal his amnesia last night. He had enjoyed the feel of her hands on him, and the deep, soothing warmth where she’d touched his chest--until he’d sensed something was wrong. He’d dragged himself from the wonderful haze of healing to see Lucinda’s eyes draining of light. He’d actually felt her growing weaker. His heart clenched.
He didn’t think he’d ever known fear before that moment.
"Are you ready to start?" she asked.
Lucinda smiled in his direction and he could tell she was anticipating this as much as he was.
He smiled in return. "As ready as you are."
She removed her necklace--a clear crystal rod, pointed at one end and rounded on the other which hung from a delicate silver chain.
"We’ll start by having you move something without touching it."
He wanted to say that he’d already done that with her, but he bit back the words, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate being reminded of how she’d reacted to the attraction between them. During yesterday’s kiss, she’d been swept away by her own response, and clearly it had alarmed her. Now, he only had to get close to her and she skittered away.
Just as well. He didn’t think either of them could withstand the overwhelming attraction between them if they actually touched.
"Feel the energy flowing through your body," Lucinda instructed. "Feel it flowing through your arms to your hands."
He felt a lot of things flowing through his body, and not just energy, but he focused on her words and concentrated.
She held her arm straight out at her side, the necklace dangling from her finger.
"Now hold up your hand and point at the pendant. Imagine the energy leaving your fingertips and shooting across the room toward it. Concentrate on focusing the energy. Try to overshoot the target so you have a good amount of momentum."
He felt warmth flow through him, like overheated blood flooding his veins. But it was more potent than that. Less restricted. It surged across his shoulders and down his arms. He focused on the crystal pendant, determined to move it. The energy burst from his fingertips and he could sense it blasting across the room in a steady stream.
"At first you may only nudge it a little, but--"
The energy hit the pendant and it swung wildly. As he watched its erratic jostling, he concentrated on the energy streaming from his fingers, focusing it to a tight, steady flow. The necklace swung upwards. He willed the energy to follow it, up and around, completing a full revolution, then continued until it swung in a circle, like a propeller. He smiled, pleased with his effort, though it felt more like a child’s game than a serious attempt at magic.
Once he had it at a steady state, he glanced at Lucinda. Her wide-eyed look of shock surprised him. He broke off the energy flow and the pendant dropped, bounced a few times, then settled into a mild swing.
Lucinda’s gaze turned to him and he could see she was trying to tamp down her astonishment. Clearly, he had surpassed her expectations.
"That was... very good. You seem to be a natural at this."
She sat down at the table and referred to the book she’d opened earlier. She dragged her finger down the page. "Well, I think we can skip some of these other exercises." She glanced at him. "How do you feel? Tired?"
On the contrary, energy seemed to crackle through him, enhancing every one of his senses.
"Not at all. I feel quite invigorated."
"I see. Okay, then...." She flipped a few pages then brushed her hand down the center of the book to smooth down the pages. "Let’s try levitation."
Chapter 6
Lucinda watched the large boa constrictor slither past her toward Merlin, who was curled up asleep on the carpet under the worktable. The snake opened its gigantic jaws. As its mouth bore down on Merlin, he opened his eyes. His ears flicked down flat and he hissed into the huge mouth.
Nyte chuckled and the snake disappeared.
Merlin blinked, then slowly stood up. His fur had spiked in all directions and he resembled a black pinecone with a long, bushy squirrel’s tail. He shook himself, smoothing his fur down to its usual sleekness, then glared at Lucinda. He turned his back on her and stalked toward Nyte, then leaped onto his lap.
It wasn’t my fault. It was Nyte’s illusion.
Merlin curled up, keeping his back toward her.
Fine, be like that.
She watched as Nyte’s large, strong hand stroked Merlin’s glossy, black fur.
"I think it’s time for a break," she suggested. "I’ll go fix something to eat."
She went to the kitchen and retrieved a large pot of homemade soup from the fridge, then served up two bowls and popped them in the microwave.
Nyte was an exc
ellent student. He mastered everything she explained after one try. It was as if he’d always known how to work magic but had only forgotten. Which would make sense if he were a wizard with amnesia. He wouldn’t be learning new things, he’d be remembering what he already knew.
It seemed that part of Rand’s story--that Nyte was a wizard from the past--was true. If that was true, she couldn’t help wondering what else was true.
"You seem deep in thought."
She turned to see Nyte standing in the doorway, Merlin draped across his shoulder, purring.
"Either you’re a prodigy of some sort, or Rand never told me I was the slowest wizard who ever lived." On the contrary, he had told her she’d advanced very quickly, but modesty prevented her from admitting that. "It took me two months to levitate a thimble and I’d been in training for at least six months before I could form even the simplest illusions, and yet you have mastered levitation in only an hour and are creating illusions real enough to scare the wits out of Merlin."
Merlin’s ears flicked forward then back again, the only indication he’d heard his name.
"Obviously, you’re an excellent teacher."
Merlin sneezed, then blinked at Nyte as though questioning his sanity.
She ignored the cat and shook her head. "That’s not it and you know it."
He drew Merlin from his shoulder and placed him on the floor. "What do you think is the answer?"
"It seems clear Rand was right that you’re a wizard from the past."
He stepped toward her, a serious expression on his face. "Is it the fact that I’m from the past that bothers you, or something else?"
How could she answer that? Rand had told her a lot of other things about Nyte and she didn’t want to believe any of them. She turned to the microwave and opened the door. The humming stopped. She stirred the bowls of soup, then closed the door and pressed the start button. The humming resumed. When she turned around again, he was watching her intently.
