Dangerously Yours

by Lark Brennan

  She nodded. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

  “Did you feel everything I did?”

  “Yes. Do you mind?”

  Oddly, he didn’t. He liked the idea of sharing the experience with her. “No. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Her smile twisted something in his chest. He slid his hand behind her neck and eased her face toward him as he lowered his mouth gently on hers. Her lips were warm and soft. The scent of the sea filled his head and she tasted faintly of honey and lemon. A flick of his tongue opened her lips to him. Reverently he explored her mouth, intoxicated by the caressing response of her lips and tongue.

  Christ! He jerked away from her. “You’re still in my head.” Except the connection had snapped closed. “You did that.”

  “Did what?” Her eyes flashed with indignation. “You kissed me!”

  And seeing her so flushed, he wanted to do it again. “Only because you…” She what? Manipulated him to kiss her? That egotistical accusation would get his face slapped or worse. The truth was he’d felt—what had he felt? He had no frame of reference for his feelings.

  “Yeah, because what?”

  He ran a hand over the top of his head. “Hell. I don’t know.”

  He expected a smart-ass comeback. Instead, she slid away from him and lifted her leg over the bench.

  “Why don’t you practice with the orphic on your own for a while,” she said and rose. “Then if you still want me to, I’ll try to teach you to build a psychic shield.”

  He nodded. “Where are you going?”

  “Just for a stroll on the path. That way.” She pointed east. “There’s something I want to check out.”

  “You okay?”

  Slipping on her dark glasses, she flashed a half-hearted smile. “Fine.”

  She was lying, and he wished he didn’t care.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lex marched up the path swearing under her breath. How could she have left herself so open to him? Had her subconscious wanted him to know how she felt? Christ, how did she feel?

  The sun was no longer directly overhead, but there was still plenty of time for him to work with the dolphins, assuming he didn’t change his mind now that he’d acquired his new powers. No, he wouldn’t go back on their deal and she still hadn’t fulfilled all of hers.

  The problem was she hadn’t expected to learn so much about him when he let her into his head. She’d used a relaxing technique Adrien had taught her to make him open to the projections of her memories and in doing that had stripped away the armor he’d built over a lifetime to cover his deepest emotions. That shell was a lot like the shield she was going to teach him to build. Sure, she’d figured the guy was suppressing hurt from his past, just not how much or how ingrained those feelings were.

  Maybe it was sensing her own loneliness and isolation reflected back from him that had touched her. Maybe it was sharing the victory of him using his power. Either way, the revelation was the same. She was falling in love with him.

  She stopped and gazed out over the sea to the north. The angry dark clouds over the open ocean indicated a squall in the distance. Could the weather front be affected by a blast of delphic or orphic energy? She made a mental note to ask Bodie. The possibility he could change the weather thrilled her.

  The only fair thing to do was to teach him to use a psychic shield. It should protect him from the worst of the negative effects of the red orphic in the dolphins. It would certainly also block Mark’s telepathy and her brother would be pissed as hell about that. So would Adrien. She cringed. Too bad. Bodie deserved protection and privacy, even from her family. She’d made him a promise and she’d keep it, no matter the price.

  Stiffening her spine, she began walking again. The skin on the back of her neck prickled and her muscles tensed. The unmistakable scent of magic drifted on the breeze. Magic, not majik. Someone had been here recently. With slow, deliberate steps she approached a crossroad, carefully inspecting the scraggly foliage along the way for signs of a spell. Someone had crushed a stick on the path, and near the cross the residue of the magic grew stronger.

  From childhood the Durand were taught to smell and taste sorcery—not unlike how Bodie smelled and tasted delphic and orphic energy—so they could detect the majik of their Dissembler enemies. Years of Protector training had honed her innate ability to identify the degree of malice and malignancy in a spell. Her senses told her the magic performed here had positive intent, so she walked on.

  Something still remained where the two paths crossed. With each careful step, she scoured the trail and brush for clues to be sure she didn’t inadvertently tread on a piece of the spell. Twenty feet farther and the carefully arranged objects lay at her feet. A chill slithered over her skin. Powerful magic was at work here, although she had no idea what practice it was. Vodoun? Santeria? Obeah? Whatever it was, the sorcerer had been here recently. She knelt on one knee and studied the objects on the ground.

  A square of white linen, perhaps a napkin, occupied the center of the intersection with its corners pointing at each corner of the path. Three cowrie shells anchored each corner. A symbol had been drawn in the middle with a thick red liquid—not blood—ketchup or hot sauce maybe, and a thick line of white granules which was likely salt formed a circle around the symbol. The only object that seemed wrong was a cheap stainless fork lying on its side inside the salt circle where a priestess might put a piece of hair or finger nails or a personal object to direct the spell.

  Whatever this was, it wasn’t her area of expertise. She pulled out her ComDev and snapped a close up picture then stood up for a larger view. Normally she’d post the photos on the Protector board and mark them urgent, and someone would identify the ward in no time. That would be normal procedure had Adrien not warned her of the traitor. Now she’d have to try something off the radar.

  The clock on the ComDev said 4:38 p.m., so it would be 6:38 a.m. at Chantal Durand’s campsite in Australia. Her anthropologist cousin was an expert in symbols and much better than Lex with spells. She was also First Order Durand and above any suspicion. Texting the photos to her was the safest way to get a read on them. Found this on JVD. No stink. What can you tell me? She hit send and slipped the ComDev back into her shorts pocket. Chantal’s reply could take five minutes or several hours and she still had a promise to Bodie to fulfill.

  • • •

  When she entered the shelter he was sitting in lotus position on the bench, eyes closed and facing north. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow on his skin. She cleared her throat.

  “How was your walk?”

  “Good.” She wasn’t ready to tell him about the spell she’d found and complicate what she needed to do now. “Have you perfected your energy controlling technique?”

  His face took on an expression of boyish wonder. “You were right. Within a couple of tries, the entire process felt second nature. Maybe it’s because I’ve lived with the energy for so long, but it seems to want to do whatever I think. Does that make any sense? Orphic cooperating with me, following my mental orders?”

  “Yeah, I understand. That’s the way I’ve always felt about animal telepathy. I just do it and the animals respond. This is your talent. Now how about I teach you to build a shield?”

  “What’s that going to entail?”

  She didn’t blame him for being reluctant and wasn’t all that keen to reestablish the intimacy either. But the sooner this thing was done, the better for both of them. “Same as before. You let me show you how forming a shield feels and then do it yourself with me on the sidelines.”

  “And once I form this shield I’ll have some kind of psychic protection against anyone who tries to get in my head?”

  “There are people and entities who wield all kinds of powers to invade and control unprotected minds,” she explained. “Our enemies are masters at subverting ordinaires to do their evil work—serial killers, mass murderers, leaders committing genocide, and terrorists are some
of the more overt examples. Your shield will prevent anyone from exerting any kind of mind control through majik. Spirits and ghosts won’t be able to plague your dreams or subconscious. If I’m right, the shield will also keep delphic or orphic from entering your body when you manipulate it unless you allow it in. I don’t have much experience with energy, just feeling it through you, but in theory you should be able to control the red orphic externally with your will without getting sick.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “If that doesn’t work and you try to help the dolphins, you’ll probably throw up and we’ll have to find another way to help them.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. So we sit again?”

  “Yes.”

  They took the same positions as they had before and he extended his hands on his knees, palms up. This time the warmth of his skin on hers felt more intimate and she forced her response to him to the back of her mind. Concentrate on the task. Show him how to build the shield. Physical awareness shimmered between them, quickening her pulse. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth,” she said quietly. “Relax and allow yourself to sense what I’m going to make you feel.”

  His even breathing fell into rhythm with hers and she reached inside herself for the sensation of forming a psychic shell around her mind without actually creating it.

  “Imagine a hood of glass forming around your head from the molecules of light floating in the air. The glass is thinner than paper, lighter than air and tougher than any material you’ve ever known.” As she spoke she mentally led him through the process, feeling the barrier form, waver, solidify, and waver again. She’d experienced the psychic power he could command and nudged his confidence. “Don your armor, Bodie. You can do it.”

  His attention waivered for a moment, refocused, and she felt a psychic shell begin to form before it crumbled.

  “I can’t hold it,” he said. “It’ll never stay in place.”

  “Yes, it will. It isn’t a mental or intellectual function but a psychic skill. Once it’s in place, your shield will hold itself.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “It is.”

  “But how?”

  “I have no idea,” she said.

  “Then how do you know…”

  “Goddamn it, will you quit being a physicist and start being a psychic? Relax and let’s go back to breathing.” She slipped into his mind and repeated the process of showing him how it felt to build a shield. When the sensation was almost solidified, she pulled out. “Now finish it yourself.”

  His shield snapped in place, locking her out. She smiled.

  The pressure of his hands gently squeezing hers forced her to open her eyes and face him.

  “I did it, didn’t I?” he said. “Amazing. I never imagined doing anything with my mind except think.”

  Pandora’s box came to mind. “Will you promise never to use your abilities against ordinaires, except in self defense?”

  He grip stiffened. “I promise.”

  “Or the Durand?”

  His gaze hardened. “Only in self-defense.”

  A protest rose to her tongue and she bit it back. “The Protectors are the good guys.”

  “Nothing’s ever that simple.” He let go of her hands and pushed back on the bench so he could swing his leg over it. “If you want me to work with the dolphins, we’d better get going. I need to check on the scanner first and it’s getting late.”

  She got to her feet and their eyes locked. A puzzling new emotion swirled deeply in his.

  They were equals now and there was no going back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Oxley Cowan gulped for air and sputtered into the cell phone. “You’re sure it’s Jack Wilson? The Jack Wilson.” He dropped into the desk chair in front of his computer screen. How could the son-of-a-bitch have survived? He’d seen the surveillance video of the bloodbath himself.

  “Of course, we’re sure,” the heavy voice replied. “How close are you to testing on a human target?”

  The cold air in the bunker seemed to drop another ten degrees. Oxley had known the question was coming and wished he had the answer the Boss wanted. Unfortunately when Sardou tried to open the bent hatch last night, the lens had cracked, and Oxley didn’t trust him to replace it with their only spare. At sundown he would perform the task himself.

  “Tonight?” he said and immediately regretted the question in his tone. The Boss preyed on weakness.

  “You will report when you are ready.”

  “No problem.” He hoped. He couldn’t help himself asking, “What are you going to do about Wilson?”

  The silence on the other end of the line was like a blast of liquid nitrogen. “You do your job and don’t worry about Wilson. We’ll get what we need from him this time.” The line went dead.

  In other words, none of your business.

  Oxley’s head throbbed. He rubbed his temples with his cold fingertips to curb the pain. Three years of busting his ass to reconstruct Jack Wilson’s work and the motherfucker had been alive the whole time. What had he been doing? The knowledge that Jack was out there made him shake with rage.

  How many nights had Oxley sat at the edge of the drunken collection of wannabe scientists listening and absorbing, while Jack threw out all kinds of crazy speculations. The others had laughed at his outlandish theories, but not Oxley. And when the head of the organization he only knew as Unit XE approached him, he’d been ready.

  He took a deep breath. Wherever Wilson was, he couldn’t have had access to the kind of resources Unit XE provided. The Boss knew his business. Scary, powerful business that gave the laser the energy it needed. Oxley had even begun to feed it a little himself and one of these days he’d be rid of Sardou. Wilson had never even imagined the existence of the kind of majik these people wielded or how to affect the perfect marriage of majik and science.

  But Oxley had done it and now that he had more power than Jack ever dreamed of at his disposal, the payback for dismissing Oxley Cowan was going to be a bitch.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Leaning back in her chair, Lex shook her head. “The team has run every test they could think of on Elvis and Moondog and there’s not a single piece of data I can use to explain a miraculous recovery for our cover story. No chemical imbalances, nutrient deficiencies, nothing, and David’s not going to buy a laying-on-of-hands healing.”

  “Especially if I’m doing it. What about a simulated electromagnetic shock treatment?”

  Rolled blue eyes told him what she thought of that idea. “He’d never believe I’d torture the dolphins like that. Besides, electricity and water are a bad idea.”

  “Invoke Durand Tech like you always do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, well, it works. We can make up some DT device that does some ultrasonic electromagnetic crap that shocks the dolphins back into sanity.”

  “Nobody’ll believe that.”

  He shrugged. “The proof’s in the results, princess.”

  The workings of her brain played out on her face and he wondered why he’d never noticed how transparent she was.

  “Okay,” she said. “You got anything in your bag of tricks that looks like an ultrasonic whatever?”

  “It won’t pass close examination, but, yeah, I think I can dig something up.”

  “David isn’t stupid. He’ll want details.”

  “Well we’ll just have to come up with some if you want me to try to rid them of the orphic.”

  He didn’t wait for her answer but headed for his room. He checked to be sure the exterior doors and windows were locked then rooted through his shaving kit for a prototype hair clipper DT had produced from his specs. It was waterproof and odd shaped with a flat plastic cover over the blade mechanism. Best of all, it vibrated. Audibly. No way would it pass scrutiny up close, but hopefully it would look impressive from twenty feet away. Slipping it into his pocket, he gr
abbed the Desert Eagle, wrapped it in a beach towel, and closed the bedroom door behind him.

  • • •

  From the passenger seat of the jeep, Bodie looked out over the calm water of Little Harbor as Lex drove along the shoreline. “You have a plan or do we just wing it?”

  “Both,” she replied. “We’ll take over monitoring the dolphins and let you do your thing. If it works, we’ll give them the antidote for the tranquillizer and let them go.”

  “Hope I can remember all those details.”

  She grinned at him. “Want me to write them down?”

  “Just coach me as we go.”

  The jeep bounced over the sorry excuse for a road toward a long dock and a beach on the far side of the bay. One of the Ariel’s Zodiacs was tied to the dock and two crew members tended one of the floating dolphins. Farther out, Mac and Sam attempted to get the other gray body into a larger inflatable.

  Lex pushed the car door open. “Great, Mac’s taken charge. All we can do is bluff through some obscure research observations and hope he doesn’t call me on them.” She got out and reached for the canvas equipment bag but he beat her to it.

  “Bullshit and a prayer,” he said. “Glad you’ve thought this through.”

  “Well enough. You have your DT ‘electromagnetic’ device?”

  He patted his shorts pocket with the clippers in it. “Yup.”

  “Then tuck the tranq gun in your other pocket in case we need it.”

  “For the dolphins or your crew?” he asked.

  She slung a neoprene cross-body pouch over her head. “We’ll leave our options open.”

  Adrenaline rushed through him at the reality of what he was about to attempt. What if it didn’t work? What if it did?

  The two techs with the dolphin greeted Lex and eyed him curiously. She introduced them as Ashley and Carlos. Deeply tanned, the team members all wore matching yellow Ariel shorty wetsuits and no one except Mac appeared to be older than their early twenties. At thirty-three, Bodie felt ancient.