by Jaime Rush
She nodded, too tired to argue. She didn’t even begin to hope he would tell her the truth about any of this.
He followed her inside, and she closed the door and leaned against it.
“Sit, please,” he said, nodding toward the Grape.
This was going to be bad.
She walked in and draped the orange blanket Orn’ry had become attached to over the cage. “Uh-oh,” he said in his small voice, which would have been comical in other circumstances.
Cyrus gave her those moments when he was clearly agitated. He’d always been patient. Or maybe controlled. Though he masked his glow colors, she could see a jagged shadow all around his head.
Robotically, she walked over to where he stood. “I’m not sitting.”
“Amy, you don’t know what you’re into here.”
“You’re right. Tell me.”
Oddly, he got a wistful look on his face. “When you were a girl, you were scared of things you didn’t understand. Remember when I took you to Disney World, how you wouldn’t go into the Haunted Mansion?”
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“I know.” He said that on a sigh. “This is something you should be afraid of.”
“Are there spooks?” she said, taunting him with a reference to the CIA.
“More than that,” he replied, not taking the bait. “You need to trust me. Tell me what you know.”
“Tell me what you know.” She remembered the listening devices and went to the stereo. “Wait a minute.” A few seconds later Green Day’s lead singer belted out “American Idiot.” She returned to stand in front of Cyrus. “Okay, we can talk now.”
“Amy…” He closed his eyes and rubbed them hard with his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to live this way, sneaking around, going to gay festivals, for God’s sake.”
“You’ve been following me.”
“For your own good. I don’t know what you think is going on, what Eric and Petra Aruda told you, but this has nothing to do with you.”
“Then tell me what it does have to do with, Cyrus. Let me decide. You want honesty, well, you go first.” She’d learned that much from dealing with Eric and Petra.
She saw his frustration, even without seeing his glow. “All I can say is that you’re in dangerous territory and you have to back off.” He gestured toward her office. “Go back to being your little hermit self saving hard drives and sanity. Forget this.”
The second person to tell her that. Of course, that would be the sane and undoubtedly safe thing to do. There was one hitch in that escape hatch: Lucas.
“Not until I see Lucas…Lucas Vanderwyck.” She aimed an accusatory look at him.
“I didn’t want you digging.” A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Why do I get the impression that you care about him? The guy broke into your apartment. I’m having a hard time understanding why he matters so much to you.”
“I would have an even harder time explaining it—” She felt a catch in her throat. “But I need to see him.”
“I told you, he died here.”
“No, he didn’t. He’s alive, and they’re doing something to him, they’re hurting him! I want him released, and I can’t let this go until that happens.”
“Eric and Petra told you that, didn’t they? They’re lying.”
“They didn’t tell me.” Emotion strained her voice. “Don’t ask me how I know, I just do!”
He blew out a breath. “Amy, you can’t save him. I don’t know what they’re doing to him, but neither one of us can save him. If he is still alive, he’s going to die, and you’re going to have to let him go.”
“No!” she screamed, feeling the pain and anger at those words rip through her.
He clamped his big hands on her shoulders. “You can’t save him, but you can save yourself. Let this go.”
Her voice was a hoarse whisper: “Did my dad kill himself?”
“Yes.”
“Cyrus, do you know why he died?”
For just a glimmer, she saw something she’d never seen before—Cyrus’s glow. Yellow, sadness, regret. Then it disappeared.
“No,” he said, as convincingly as he’d told her about Lucas Brown, serial killer. He squeezed her shoulders so tight they hurt. “I’m sorry you got involved in this, Amy. I’m sorry you can’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on. I’m trying to protect you, but I can’t if you keep digging. This is way beyond anything you can handle, emotionally or physically. You may not trust me, but you can’t trust the Arudas either. That leaves you alone and more vulnerable than you were the day you were orphaned. If you drop this now, things can go back to the way they were. Maybe not between us,” he added at her hard look. “But you’ll still have your life.”
She was seeing him as a man she’d never known. This was his CIA persona, and maybe this was how he really was. He’d thrown that barb about her days after her dad’s death to break her down. It hit its mark but didn’t weaken her. No matter what, she didn’t have Cyrus anymore. But she wasn’t alone, not as long as Lucas was alive.
“Am I an Offspring?” she asked.
“If I said no, would you believe me?”
She shook her head.
“Then why bother to ask?” He sounded weary.
“I was hoping you’d tell me what it meant.”
“I know you, Amy. You’re dedicated. And even though you try not to, you care too much. Maybe that’s what’s driving you. But Lucas isn’t some cute, abandoned animal. No matter what he told you, he’s dangerous. And your dad, he just lost his mind, nothing more.”
He walked to the door, but before he opened it he turned to her. “I can’t answer your questions. All I can do is beg you to go back to your life before Lucas Vanderwyck broke in. This is your last chance.”
Her pulse throbbed at her temple as she met his gaze. Maybe he was trying to protect her in some way. Maybe she should take his advice. She said nothing. With a dip of his head he opened the door and left.
She locked the door behind him. She could never go back to her life before Lucas. Maybe her father hadn’t abandoned her out of a lack of love. She might be something called an Offspring. They were up against a big bad government agency that would do everything within its power to squash them. And a gorgeous, mysterious man cared enough about her to put his life on the line to protect her. She could only do the same.
Cyrus’s words, though, came back to haunt her: He’s going to die, and you’re going to have to let him go. Grief and helpless frustration swamped her. She might have Lucas in her dreams, for now, but what if she couldn’t save him? Worse, he didn’t want to be saved, not at the risk of her life or that of his friends’ lives.
For a few minutes she didn’t have to be strong. She stumbled to the couch, curled up around her bunny, and let the pain engulf her. In the throes of it, though, she felt something stealing through her. Comfort. She knew this feeling; every time she’d felt despair, it filled her with peace.
“Dad?” she whispered. She had always believed it was him, comforting her from beyond. She’d heard stories, and hell, she just wanted to believe he hadn’t abandoned her after all. She sank into the comfort and then, a few minutes later, into sleep.
In the dream, she walked down a pathway in a deep green forest. The sound of a waterfall roared in the distance. She knew the feel of this dream, and she anxiously searched for him. Lucas always brought some beautiful place with him, and here he had chosen a spot that spoke to her soul. But where was he?
She saw him up ahead, his hands draped above him on a branch, his body relaxed but eyes sparking with desire. All these months she couldn’t see his face, and now she saw all of him: his strong jawline, captivating eyes, and waves of dark hair. He wore a button-down blue shirt that was open to reveal a sculpted chest, and old and comfortable blue jeans tight enough to show muscular thighs. Her heart raced as she came to a momentary stop, taking him in. His mouth quirked in a subtle smile as he released the bran
ch.
As though something broke loose inside her, she ran to him. Her body slammed into his and her hands went to his face, and then up into his hair, and their mouths collided. His hands moved over her, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. They moved in circles, getting dizzy and devouring each other.
“Lucas,” she said on a breath, just wanting to lose herself in the fact that he was real and here with her, loving her.
Framing her face with his hands, he looked at her as though etching every feature into his memory. “God, it’s good to see you. Are you all right?”
She kissed him again, not wanting to get into everything, not able to get into so much of it. None of that mattered right then. She wanted him, to touch her, inside of her.
When they took a breath, she said, “Why did you hide your face from me all these months?”
“Just in case we ever happened to run into each other. Wouldn’t that have freaked you out?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “But I would have gotten over it. And then—”
“No, it had to stay just like it was.”
“Why?”
His fingers massaged her scalp, sending pleasurable sensations through her body. “It’s just better this way.”
Words begging him to tell her where he was threatened to pour out, but he kissed her and stole them away. Still, she had to know…
“Lucas, are you all right? Are they still—”
“I don’t want to talk about what’s going on here. I want to get lost in you while I can.”
He began to kiss her again, but she pulled back. “While you can? What does that mean?”
He closed his eyes, obviously regretting those words. “We won’t ever be together, love,” he said, warming her heart with his endearment and crushing it with the words preceding it. “Except for here, for now. Maybe I’m selfish for wanting you when I can’t give myself to you—”
“No, Lucas, don’t even say that. I’m the selfish one, because I want to save you so you’ll be mine, so we—”
He kissed those words away, too, and she tasted sorrow and regret. He pulled away to look at her. “I want you, but when I’m gone, when I don’t come anymore, I want you to forget me.”
She couldn’t pretend to agree with that. “What about Eric and Petra? Can’t you give me some clue to give to them?”
“I don’t want them hurt either. This is my problem.”
She wasn’t going to mention that Eric had said the same thing.
He held her chin, making her look into his eyes. “You promised you wouldn’t get involved with all this. You’re not, right?”
How well could she lie in her dreams? “I promise. But—”
He put his finger over her mouth. “No buts.” He pulled her close and she heard his soft sigh. “I’m sorry about Cyrus. I’m sorry you have to feel this pain.”
She pulled back. “Why did you say that?”
He gave her that provocative Mona Lisa smile. “Remember when I told you we weren’t strangers?”
“How could I forget? But that’s because we’ve…well, the dreams. Right?”
“It started long before the dreams; I only recently figured out how to come to you.” He searched her eyes. “I’ve been connected to you since we were kids. Our souls bonded when we were all together. After you moved away, I started getting glimpses of this little girl. For a while they were just quick flashes, and I always felt some emotion. Like when you found your father. I was there, in a way.”
“You were there?”
“I could feel what you were feeling and I saw what you saw.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I realized your emotions pulled me to you. Whenever you were really upset or really happy. Just a while ago I felt your sadness and frustration. I’m sorry if I had anything to do with that.”
“It’s been you all these years?” Not her father, but Lucas. Always there, her protector. She felt tears forming in her eyes. “And I’m supposed to just forget you?”
He wiped away a tear that escaped down her cheek. “I won’t come if it’s going to cause you pain.”
“No, don’t stop coming. I’ll be sad, of course, but”—she forced a smile—“I’ll survive. I always do.”
A dirty lie, but she’d already gotten away with one.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded, unable to say the word. Then she pulled him down for another kiss. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers, the way his tongue wandered through her mouth and his body moved against hers. She pushed back his shirt, and he shrugged out of it. Her hands explored him, feeling his smooth skin and the muscles beneath, the ridges of his taut stomach, every inch of him.
He pulled up her top, and the forest spun around her, leaving them next to the stream and standing on a blanket. Just as suddenly, she was naked. He was the master of the dream, and she the willing slave. It wasn’t hard to be willing with his mouth trailing down her skin, his tongue tracing a wet line around the swell of her breast and then her nipple, and when she couldn’t contain the pressure growing between her legs, he gave her other breast the same loving attention. She was about to melt when he slid down to his knees and tickled her belly button with a flick of his tongue.
Thank goodness in dreams she didn’t have to worry about belly button lint, she thought before he went lower. His mouth nuzzled that pleasurable place over her pubic bone, and then as her fingers kneaded his hair while her head was thrown back and eyes closed, she was suddenly lying down and he was exploring her folds with his tongue and making her toes flex so hard her joints cracked.
He spread her legs, and she completely trusted him, opening for him as she had never done for anyone in real life. She heard her breathing quicken, her heart race, and her body convulse as orgasmic waves washed over her. He kept kissing her sensitive flesh until another wave of pleasure cascaded over her, and then, over the sounds of her gasps, she heard him chuckle as he did it again.
Still, he wouldn’t let her up as he kissed along her inner thighs and down to her toes and the soles of her feet. He sucked each toe into his mouth while he watched her arch in pleasure.
“Your turn,” she said, trying to get up, but he gently pressed her back down to the blanket.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
He took his time kissing and gently sucking every inch of her body, even her ankles, and, God help her, the back of her knees, which she had no idea could feel so erotic. Then he crouched over her, his hair tickling her skin, and kissed her so tenderly she wanted to cry out. Though he had never said the words, he kissed her and looked at her like someone who loved her. She had never been loved like this, loved and cherished, and she never wanted to let him go.
She grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans and pushed the button through the hole. Then she stopped. “How do you do that instantly naked thing?”
His grin was so devilish she couldn’t help but smile the same way.
“Just think it. This is like lucid dreaming, where you’re aware of your dream and can change it. You can even make me blond if that’s your preference.”
“I’ll take you just the way you are…except naked.”
It worked! She pushed him down and took the same pleasure he had taken. She’d never realized that giving could feel so good. His naked body beneath her hands and the taste of him as she took him into her mouth filled her with a sensual charge. What had amazed her, those first times she and Lucas made love, was how easy it was. Nothing like that awkward scenario she experienced the first time she had sex with a guy who, like her, was only curious. She’d decided that sex was overrated and not at all worth the effort. Then, as Lucas had seduced her, she discovered how wonderful all aspects of making love were, even the parts she hadn’t been too sure about, like this one. She gently scraped her teeth over the velvety tip of his head.
Over the sound of the rushing creek, she heard a bird calling out in a trilling sound. There was something about the bird, something annoying. Not
Orn’ry. She tried to make it go away, just as she’d made his jeans go away.
It didn’t. In fact, it grew louder and more ominous.
The phone!
“No, no, no,” she said, willing her mind to shut it out. It had happened one other time, the phone pulling her out of one of their dreams, leaving her grouchy all day. Now it meant so much more.
The ringing stopped. She giggled. She was still in the forest with Lucas. He rolled her over and kissed her again as he playfully prodded her opening. He was never in a hurry to consummate, something she loved. He slid inside her, but only up to his tip, and then slid out again.
“Aaaah!” he shouted, grimacing, falling away from her and then…he was gone.
“Lucas!” she shouted, searching frantically even though she knew he wasn’t there anymore. Fear clawed at her as she sank back to her knees, hugging herself. What was happening to him?
The bird started trilling again. No, the phone. She was pulled from the dream as quickly as Lucas had been.
Early-morning light washed through the front window. She lurched for her cell phone but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” she answered in a rough voice.
“Hey, pinto bean,” Eric said in a Spanish accent. “You got my green. I know you got company, but I need my cash, man.”
Disoriented, she stumbled from the couch and fell on the floor. “I, uh, you have the wrong number.”
She tried to make sense of the message. Pinto. Green. You got company?
Oh, she had company. Someone to ditch.
That was as daunting as sneaking into Cyrus’s house while he was there and getting onto his computer. Still feeling the imprint of Lucas on her skin and in her soul, she grabbed her backpack. Nothing was going to keep her from trying to find him, especially not a little thing called fear.
Okay, a big thing.
CHAPTER 8
Lucas snapped out of the dream when the lights came on like a blast of cold air. For hours he’d been in the dark, without sound or any kind of stimulation whatsoever. Except for his dream connection with Amy. Only that had kept him sane these past two and a half days. He wasn’t sure if the deprivation was some kind of torture, but they’d done it for a reason, one he feared he would find out soon. Another less torturous device was the rubber cap they’d put on his head with electrodes hooked to a machine.
