Special Attraction (The Coursodon Dimension Book 3)

by M. L. Ryan

  Exhausted by both the physical effort and the emotional release, I collapsed onto Alex’s chest. Finally, I lifted my head and purred, “Damn, that was great.”

  He opened his eyes. “Just great?” he scoffed. “Shall we go again and try for fantastic?”

  I assumed he meant after an appropriate interval for recharge, but Alex had a somewhat more accelerated timeline in mind. A half-hour—and two shared orgasms later—we surpassed fantastic and moved on to legendary.

  “That was some amazing recuperative display,” I marveled once I resumed normal breathing.

  A sly grin spread across his lips. “You inspire me to greatness.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t mention that to whoever has to straighten the place up. I think we may have broken one of the lamps on the nightstand.” I glanced over at the small bedside table and sure enough, the glass shade was shattered.

  Alex rolled over and studied the broken shards. “We may have broken it? That was all you, carisa.”

  I vaguely remembered hearing the glass break, but I knew I hadn’t been the one to knock it over. Even in the throes of passion, I’d recall smacking into something other than Alex. “I didn’t do it. When it broke, I was on the other side of the bed and…”

  “And?” Alex inquired as my voice trailed off.

  Realization dawned. “Uh, maybe it was me,” I mumbled. I planned to leave it at that, but I couldn’t stop myself from blushing and Alex, being an observant kind of guy, noticed the telltale flush, even in the diminished light.

  “And?” he asked again, this time in a more demanding tone, even though I noticed a bit of playfulness.

  “You didn’t, by any chance, feel anything out of the ordinary the last time?”

  “Out of the ordinary, no. It was as phenomenal as all the other times. Why?”

  I didn’t know why I was hesitant to tell him. After all, we’d just been as intimate as two people can be, and some of the stuff we’d done was probably illegal in a number of conservative states.

  “I was trying out TA,” I confessed. “And if you didn’t feel it, I must have, I don’t know, overshot my mark.”

  Alex was silent for what seemed like an entire minute. “Wow, he said finally. “Imagine what I might look like right now if your aim was better.”

  “Oh my God, I had no idea I could hurt you! I’ve been practicing, and I’d gotten pretty good at it. No one told me it could be dangerous.”

  He threw his head back and laughed until tears came to his eyes. Wiping them from his cheeks, he sputtered, “Normally it’s not, but nothing is by the book where you are concerned, carisa. I so wish I could tell Sebastian!”

  “Oh no, I’m embarrassed enough as it is. You are not mentioning this to anyone, particularly not Sebastian. I’d never hear the end of it.”

  Alex chuckled. “I know, I would never share any of our intimate moments, but he would be so proud.”

  “That’s sick,” I said, grimacing. “What kind of a pervert would be pleased I almost castrated you?”

  “Not that,” he countered as he took me in his arms, “The fact that you were practicing on yourself.”

  18

  Either our exuberant antics or the crash of breaking glass caused poor Rufus to take refuge in the bathroom. He was sleeping in the tub when I went to get a drink of water. I tried coaxing him out, but he stayed put until the morning. He probably figured if we weren’t ready to call it a night—which we weren’t—he’d be safer in there. His reaction to our carnal cavorting was completely different from Vinnie’s, who usually sat at the end of the bed and watched. I often wondered what he was thinking, Hurry it up; you’re disturbing my twenty-three hours of sleep? You call that flexible? I can stick my back leg behind my head and lick my genitals at the same time. Stupid humans—they shed their skin, leave it in a pile on the floor, and in the morning, put on an entirely different one? Most likely, all that went through his little kitty brain was wondering if I remembered to fill his bowl with fresh kibble.

  Alex and I spent most of the day in one of the ballrooms, which had been converted into a makeshift ops center. For the most part, the throng of researchers, scientists, Xyzok and Klyzok—the group responsible for enforcing Courso laws within Courso—huddled in small, tense groups. Some of the clusters appeared to be engaged in typical command post activities like scanning maps, disseminating information, and guzzling copious amounts of faytri. The majority were involved in various magical tasks I didn’t understand, but whatever they were up to, the constant flow of arcane energy from so many sources infused the air with ozone. The clean, crisp scent made me a little homesick recalling the super-charged, crazy summer thunderstorms in Tucson.

  Hypnos, who was sitting alone at a small table apart from the others, waved me over when he noticed me. “I trust you have had no deleterious effects from our experiment?” he asked as I plopped into a chair next to him.

  “Nope, I’m good. What are you up to all by yourself?”

  He opened his hand to reveal the blue, egg-shaped stone Doc had dream-gifted me. “This is a most curious object,” he said, rolling it between his thumb and fingertips. “It emits a tiny bit of energy. Almost as if it were alive.”

  “Is that even possible?” I’d seen some really crazy stuff lately, but living minerals was off-the-charts freaky.

  Hypnos chuckled and handed me the stone. “Not living in the classic sense. It clearly is not sentient, but whatever energy it contains oscillates much like a heartbeat.”

  Squinting at the polished surface, I couldn’t detect anything pulse-like. “It just feels warm,” I remarked.

  “Warm, you say?” Hypnos extended his hand, and I dropped the egg into his palm. “Interesting. It feels cold to me.” He held the stone just at the larger end and invited me to touch the pointier side.

  “Still nice and toasty,” I reported as my fingertips rested on the proffered end.

  His eyes widened. “Most interesting. It is at the same time cool or warm depending on who is doing the touching.” He glanced around the room and beckoned to anyone who looked like they weren’t busy to come over. Each person handled the egg, and each one reported on its temperature. Not one out of the seven thought it felt warm.

  When the test handlers departed, Hypnos placed the rock on the table. He scrutinized it for a long time. “I have no explanation. Perhaps the differing tactile perceptions are because it was given to you.”

  Sure, yet another Hailey-centric oddity in this epic cluster-fuck. Frowning, I said, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “It may not be either,” he replied. “But given its unusual affinity to you, I think it will be prudent to keep this as far from you as possible. In any case, I probably could spend the rest of my career studying this piece of Dekankara. It is quite remarkable.” He gazed at the egg in much the same way that Rachel eyed expensive jewelry: educated appraisal mixed with unfettered longing. I didn’t think there was anything that would elicit that sort of response from me. Well, nothing that didn’t involve dark chocolate, or Alex stepping out the shower.

  “Why do you think Doc gave this to me?” It was a question I’d thought about a lot lately. I knew he said he used me because I was weak and well-connected, but for some reason, that didn’t seem quite right.

  Hypnos regarded me for a full minute before he answered. “I believe he is attracted to you. Not sexually,” he added when he noticed my look of horror, “but I sensed some affection coming from him while I was monitoring your dream. He does not want to hurt you, of that I am sure.”

  “Just everyone else,” I noted. “Why do I have to attract the wackos?” I muttered.

  “Perhaps being Yterixa makes you interesting to more than just animals. You are quite unique in many ways.”

  I was hearing that a lot lately. I wasn’t sure if it meant I was exceptional or strange, but right about now, I could go for a little more run of the mill.

  Thanking Hypnos for his time, I
excused myself and looked around the room for Alex. It took a while—the chamber was large and crowded—but I finally found him sitting with Cortez, the two Xyzok huddled in deep discussion.

  “Where have you been hiding?” I asked as I drew near. “I haven’t seen you since we got here.”

  Cortez looked up and a corner of his mouth curved into a small grin. “I just returned from an unsuccessful survey of the far northern regions of Alenquai for signs of our third-dimensional foe.”

  I knew that part of Alenquai was rather cold and desolate and while that might make it a logical place for someone who wanted to remain hidden to hide, trekking around in the ice and snow for a couple of weeks couldn’t have been pleasant. “Who’d you piss off to get that crappy assignment?”

  He tilted his head and smirked. I glanced at Alex, but he seemed to be fascinated by some invisible something on the table in front of him. I had been kidding about Cortez’s atrocious duty, but apparently, I’d hit a sore spot. Come to think of it, that seemed like some job they’d give someone with much less seniority. Then it all became so obvious, I almost smacked myself for being so dense.

  “I’ll take a wild guess. Sebastian sent you off on some ridiculous task because he’s jealous of your relationship with Rachel?”

  Cortez didn’t answer, but the look on his face screamed I’d hit the nail on the head. Which made me want to slap my ex-body mate upside the head for his insufferable use of his position to punish a subordinate for a perceived personal slight. Turning to Alex, I demanded, “Can he do that?”

  Before Alex could answer, Cortez waved him off. “Whatever. It’s done, I’m back, and I’m the one sleeping with the hot human.”

  Leave it to Mr. Mochachino, the guy who thought a grunt constituted a conversation, to so succinctly put everything in perspective. No bad-mouthing, no whining—just focusing on the prize. Of course, I wasn’t about to mention that before we left, Rachel was thinking of tossing him to the curb. Let him have his feelings of triumph, I reasoned.

  By way of changing the subject, I inquired about what he and Alex had been discussing and immediately regretted asking. My eyes immediately glazed over when Cortez began a lengthy and mostly unfathomable colloquy about using astral disturbances and the relationship between velocity, pressure, and height of a flowing, non-viscous fluid in a horizontal flow to determine where Doc went when he disappeared. So much for the man of few words—I must have never asked him the right questions before. It brought back unpleasant memories of hours spent in over-crowded lecture halls lulled to sleep by some professor’s incessant droning about fluid mechanics and differential equations.

  Alex made an attempt to summarize Cortez’s theory by describing how water might move if an object, say, an apple, was dropped into it. “As the Dekankaran dematerializes, he should leave a similar wave front in the air,” he continued. “If we can devise a way to track it, we might be able to calculate a trajectory.”

  I could understand how they might be able to detect when he left, but not where to. I abandoned my vow to never waste neural synapses on this type of scholarly endeavor, and argued my concerns.

  “I thought you were a biologist,” was the only comment Cortez offered.

  Briefly offended that to Cortez my life science background meant I was somehow incapable of comprehending the practical applications of sciences some perceived as more rigorous, I took a deep breath and waited until my irritation cleared. “As an undergrad, I double-minored in Chemistry and Math.”

  Alex seemed surprised. “Really? On purpose?”

  Most people were surprised when they found out that bit of Hailey trivia, particularly because it wasn’t something I liked to admit. It was bad enough seeing the vacant look spread over most people’s faces when I told them I had a Master’s in physiology. If I included the mega-geek minors, they generally became catatonic.

  “By the time I took all the required classes, I only needed a couple extra to complete both minors,” I explained. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “What else have you been keeping secret from me?” he joked.

  “I figured that was too much information so soon in our relationship. It’s bad enough you know I have a terrible temper. I was afraid if you knew about my academic past, you might realize how flawed I really am.”

  “You are probably right, carisa,” he began, assuming a mock-serious tone. “If I wasn’t already in so deep, that would be something I’d find difficult to overlook.”

  Under his breath, Cortez muttered, “It’d be a deal breaker for me under any circumstances.”

  “Thanks, Cortez,” I sneered.

  Alex seemed genuinely confused. “What is wrong with a woman being knowledgeable in mathematics or chemistry?”

  Cortez turned to me. “While you were taking calculus, statistical regression analysis, p-chem, did you ever date anyone in those classes?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I answered, completely bewildered.

  “I rest my case,” he said emphatically. “I could never have a relationship with a woman who would date someone that dorky.”

  Alex tilted his head. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you go out with a woman with some advanced physics degree a couple of years ago?”

  “You mean Sabrina? I never dated her; I just slept with her.”

  I was shocked. “So she was okay for a booty call but too nerdy to date?”

  Cortez didn’t answer, but his lack of denial was confirmation enough.

  “You do recall that your current girlfriend and I are best friends, right?”

  “Sure, I met her through you.”

  “And as best friends, I will repeat this conversation to her?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Why would you do that?”

  It was difficult to believe anyone could be that slow and still be breathing. “Because she’s my friend,” I said, explaining what seemed painfully obvious, at least to me. “That’s what girlfriends do.”

  Cortez inclined his head and looked deeply puzzled. “Huh,” he observed finally, “I guess you’re right, but I never really think of you as a woman.”

  “What do you think of me as?” I snapped.

  Cortez’s gaze flitted between his boss and me. Alex lifted his hands and warned, “You’re on your own, buddy. I’m staying out of this.”

  I tapped my foot and, while waiting for a response, I intentionally let some magical annoyance leak out. If my abilities were stronger here, I was definitely going to make use of them. I knew Cortez could feel it, and while he tried to keep his expression neutral, he couldn’t disguise the tiny beads of sweat that appeared on his forehead. Whether he was worried about me unleashing a magical temper tantrum, or telling Alex about his eyeful of naked Hailey in North Carolina, was unclear. Either way, I was having fun making him squirm.

  Finally, he sputtered, “I meant it in a good way. I think of you as one of the guys.”

  I had no idea what the hell that meant, and I didn’t really want to. Cortez had managed to insult me, educated females, and women in general all at the same time. The one thing I was certain of was this: If we all got home in one piece, I was so going to encourage Rachel to dump his sorry ass. Even if that meant creating a clear path for Sebastian to sweep her off her feet, he had to be better than Mr. Neanderthal. At least, I hoped so.

  Disgusted with Cortez’s affront to womankind, I briefly considered attempting to explain how his attitudes were archaic and demeaning. In the end, I decided I’d just be wasting my breath, and I opted instead for a quick exit. Alex was going to be working for a while, and I took Rufus for a run. After that, however, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Reluctantly, Rufus and I headed to my room.

  I showered, dressed, and moved on to reading a novel Rachel recommended. Unfortunately, the book was less engaging than I’d hoped. After struggling through a couple of chapters—one of which consisted almost entirely of an excruciating description of the offerings at a cheap Asian buffet—I gave up. No
sense wasting battery life on that, I lamented, turning off the reader. Next, I grabbed a notepad and tried to make a list of everything we knew about Doc. Except the list turned into more of a disjointed, virtually indecipherable flow chart that I crumpled and flung across the bed in frustration.

  Rufus was happily occupied gnawing on an antler, either a new one someone gave him or maybe the same one he’d previously eschewed. They all looked the same to me. It was almost as big as the dog, and he steadied the thick, main section with his paw as he munched on one of the numerous branches. The point he was concentrating upon was next to another, shorter one that almost touched his ear. So close, in fact, that I wondered if he could maneuver the boney appendage so he might munch and scratch behind his ear at the same time. Maybe I could help with that, I reasoned and concentrated on moving the antler.

  For a good five minutes, I labored to get the damn thing to move without success. So much for using magic to displace something, I lamented. For some reason, I decided to try TA on Rufus. Not to arouse him of course, that would be nasty on a multitude of levels, but as Sebastian explained, TA was really just touching from afar. Mindful of the previous night’s debacle with the lamp, I knew I’d have to be careful to ensure I didn’t hurt the dog. I figured it would be a lot easier to control myself now when I wasn’t teetering on the edge of sensual bliss.

  I concentrated on something simple, a little poke on his hind foot. Surprisingly, after a few attempts, Rufus turned his head and looked at his back paw for a moment before returning to the antler. Cool! In case his glance was completely unrelated to anything I did, I tried to mentally tickle the bottom of his foot on the opposite side. Sure enough, shortly thereafter, Rufus spun his head to the other side. For the next few minutes, I successfully prodded him a few more times. The dog seemed completely confused over the unseen irritant, but my accomplishment made me downright giddy. And overly confident. I wanted to focus my efforts on something more complex—a scratch behind the ear.