by Jaycee Clark
Deep breath. Maybe she needed to take up yoga.
What the hell was she going to wear? Oh my God, she had a date. Panic skittered through her nerves. No, not really a date. It was coffee. Just coffee. Right? With the possibility of dinner, with a guy who was older. Who found her interesting and not in a freaky way. A guy who was an empath.
A date.
She smiled. It was going to be okay.
She decided she’d call and warn Dad now so by the time she got there, it wouldn’t be weird. Or at least not too weird.
She hit “one” on her phone and speed-dialed her father. The thought that she was nineteen and should have another number one flitted through her brain, as it always did when she dialed it. But it was what it was. Her dad was, actually, pretty cool. It rang and she waited while the machine picked up. “Dad, it’s me, I just wanted you to know I’m going to be home in about fifteen minutes after I get the Grimm Brothers to order this book I want.” Taking a deep breath and wondering why she was so nervous, she hurried on, “I’ve got to get ready.” She smiled. “I’ve got a date.”
Deciding not to tell him who it was with, she hung up. She shoved the door, since it was usually stuck, into the bookstore. Like always, it squeaked as she opened it.
Jay was behind the counter today and she paused. She could drop her shields and read things, but then she’d weird out and want to leave before she asked them to order her book. She’d seen one she wanted today in Santa Fe but she didn’t want to pay fifty bucks for it. So she’d have Yancey order a used copy for her.
Or that was her plan until she walked in.
Jay.
Sighing, she smiled and leaned onto the counter. “Hi. Is Yancey in?”
Jay looked pale again and skinnier, if that was possible. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at her from under his brows. His yellow eyes danced over her nerves.
Should just come back tomorrow.
“I can h-h-help you.”
She shouldn’t be rude, but she really wanted to get out of here.
“I’m sure you can.” She sighed. What the hell. She’d just order the book and get out of here.
“There you are!” Yancey said. “I was wondering when we’d see you again. I had a feeling you’d be in.”
She grinned at him. “And so I am.”
Jay started to get off the stool behind the counter, but Yancey put a hand on his arm. “You can help her, Jay. Just ask her what she needs.”
Jay frowned. “W-wh-what do you need?”
She took out a piece of paper with the title and author on it. “I was wondering if you guys could order this book for me.”
Yancey laughed and patted her hand. “I’m sure we can, Alyssa.” He turned to his brother. “Jay, you look this up on the computer like I showed you, and we’ll see if we can get it for our Alyssa.” Then he turned back to her. “Would you like some of that passion tea you like?”
She started to say no, but realized she was thirsty. She agreed and waited.
Yancey returned in a couple of minutes with a steaming cup of tea in a blue mug and handed it to her. “Did you find it, Jay?”
Jay nodded. “There’s three editions, which do you want?”
“The newest one and the cheapest.”
She took a sip of the tea and realized it wasn’t as hot as she’d thought it was. “Perfect,” she told Yancey with a smile.
“Well, I know you like it and since you’re one of our favorite customers, we aim to please.” He grinned at her. “So, any news?”
She thought for a moment and figured what the hell. “Yeah, I’ve got a date.”
Yancey looked startled. “Oh? With Mark? Or Thad?”
She laughed. “Neither. I’m going out with an artist. Who didn’t blink when I read his aura and,” she said, leaning closer, “who’s an empath.”
“Really?” His gaze ran over her. “And when is this date?”
“Tonight.” She couldn’t help smiling.
He tilted his head to the side. “Very nice.”
She took another drink of her tea as she watched Jay’s fingers flying over the keyboard. She wondered if he was gifted in other ways. Maybe he just wasn’t good with people, or with normal everyday things, but was a whiz on the PC. There were stranger things.
Then again, she’d seen the way Yancey was very protective of his brother, so that probably wasn’t it.
Yancey muttered something about the back room. She finished off the tea as Jay finalized her order. “Should be here in three days.”
Alyssa nodded and the room suddenly spun. Damn. Probably should have eaten today.
“That’s…” She shook her head a little, hoping to clear it, but still things spun. “That’s fine.”
Get out! Get out! Run!
Her gaze rose to meet Jay’s. She tried to focus on him but it was like looking down a long tunnel to his yellow eyes. Glowing. Were they glowing? The walls moved, waved.
She swallowed. Her mouth felt funny and thick, like when she went to the dentist and had to get a tooth pulled.
What the hell? The room tilted.
She took two steps and her legs gave out.
Oh shit.
She tried to reach for her phone clipped to her waist, her fingers fumbly.
The tea…
“Dad,” she whispered, her gaze locked on the door. Have to get out. Have to get out!
The walls spun.
Something was pushing in on her. Threatening. Pushing, shoving, wanting in…
Fear roared up in her and she hurtled back to the car accident. Rolling, shattered glass, pain.
Her shields trembled. Lowered. Burst so quickly, pain iced through her head.
Pain, anger, rage slapped her and she screamed, but it only came out in the whisper of a moan.
Evil, dark and swirling, hissed out at her, sliced into her.
She turned and saw him.
The monster. Black fog. Red daggers, tendrils with wicked, spiked arrows on the ends.
“No,” she whispered.
“It’s time,” he hissed, his red eyes glowing…
Everything went black.
13
He looked at her lying on the floor, her hand near her phone. She’d tried. They always tried to get away. Why was that?
It would be so easy right now to take what he wanted.
But that wasn’t how it was supposed to be. No, he had to wait. Just a little longer. He wanted the drug to wear off and that would take a while. Had she called her father? Had she managed to let him know where she was?
He looked at his brother. “You know we had to do this.” His brother didn’t say anything. He reached down and picked her up. “Close and lock the shop.”
Her aura pulsed, slowly, blurring to the point where his own vision blurred and pain thrummed through his head.
He sensed her puny effort to keep him out. Yet the power surge to shatter her shields had still cost him. But shatter them he had, with such a force, he’d grabbed onto the counter to keep from going to his knees. She’d even moaned. He knew the moment she’d felt him. Felt him as if he were part of her, pushing against her, having her. He loved that moment, that first crack in their resistance. If it had been a few years ago, he would have enjoyed playing with her, taking her bit by bit until she conceded her power to him.
Taking it by force was fun too. And so damned heady it had addicted him faster than even the meds he had to consume.
Pain stabbed through his skull, but he tried to ignore it. He had to ignore it. There were things to do. Things to ready.
Her to ready.
Time.
Time.
Time.
He could feel it slipping further and further away from him.
Her scent, young, innocent, yet worldly, rushed up his nostrils, calling to him, taunting him, warning him.
It would be so nice to take his time with her.
But time was something he just didn’t have.
&nbs
p; So he’d get her ready.
Ready for him.
For the transfer she’d give him. He shuddered at the feel of her power brushing alongside his. Fear, her fear trembled in her mind, wishing, needing to get away.
Aphrodisiac to him.
“Lake,” she whispered.
He paused as he carried her to the hallway and the closet. He took a deep breath, already tired.
Lake. There was a thought.
Maybe he’d take them both.
Both… Excitement licked through his veins, hot and too tempting. Both. The transfers would be phenomenal.
Moving towards the closet, he shifted her so that he could open the door. She didn’t weigh much, but then she’d just been getting her life back on track. If she was healthier, she’d be curvier.
He sighed, leaned over and nuzzled the side of her neck. Innocence and power. Very heady. Very fragrant. Very alluring.
He wanted her.
He’d always wanted her. The way she moved called to him, hesitant, cautious, yet with purpose. Her power called to him, teasing, taunting, just waiting for him to claim what should be his.
Her power was his.
It really was a shame to see it end, to see her end.
Yet at the same time, anticipation coursed through him. He really couldn’t wait.
This would be wonderful.
Setting her on the floor of the deep walk-in closet, he pressed a button on the side of the back wall, hidden just beside the rod. A back panel swung open to reveal his very special, very private room. He glanced over his shoulder, his brother would not bother him. His brother never bothered him. He’d always understood.
He smiled and bent to pick her up. This time, the walls tilted and he stumbled, knocking into the row of shelves lining one wall.
His brother appeared in the doorway. “You need help. You should go back to the doctor.”
“Doctors said there was nothing they could do. This will help. She will help.”
For a moment they stared at each other.
“I’ll help you.” His brother bent and picked her up, then carried her through the open doorway.
His brother was another reason he had to do this. The transfers had to work. He couldn’t leave his brother.
Feeling weak, sick to his stomach, he followed.
He’d bought the building next to them several years ago and had put in a connecting doorway that no one knew about. He’d also walled off two of the rooms. There were no windows. It was his special room.
His room to do with as he pleased, with whom he pleased.
And he had.
He had kept several others here before. Granted it wasn’t as nice as the special place he’d had in California, but that was okay too. This one served its purpose. The simplicity of it was just what he needed. The walls were white so as to not draw attention from the power. Very important not to distract the power. White was the best. It kept the powers contained, kept them as they should be without distorting anything. The bed was white, the sheets white. Everything was white. He rather liked it that way. There was even a white stereo because he liked music as well. In the past he’d recorded them so he could play it back, hear the soft, begging sounds they made just before they died. He could almost relive it all in those moments.
He sighed and sat down in the white armchair. He watched as his brother laid her on the bed, excitement thrumming through him.
“Lake,” she muttered yet again.
Lake. There was an idea…
He needed both of them.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked that idea.
He’d take both their transfers.
He’d never done two at once before. A ménage of sorts. He smiled, a plan forming in his mind. He looked down at her knowing he didn’t have to bind her, she was too drugged.
Time, this gave him time to get things ready.
Lake…
Lake pulled her shirt over her head and laughed as Max kissed her yet again.
“Alyssa will be home any minute,” he said. “But she has a date tonight so I can always come over.”
She smiled. “Maybe so.” She kissed him back. “I’ll have to think about it.”
She bent down and pulled on her shoes. At least her clothing was in the studio, neatly folded, and she hadn’t had to go searching for the articles. Been there, done that. Of course, their day had not started out as a foray into sex. Then again, she’d agreed to pose nude for a man she’d almost had on her couch, so it was probably a given. She’d never look at that beautiful chaise the same way again. Or gold gossamer for that matter.
She looked around the studio, the canvas he’d been painting of her, neatly covered with a cloth—damn it. She wanted to see it. She glanced to the corner where Alyssa’s artwork stood leaning against the wall. One of Alyssa’s paintings, the dark colors and twisted images all but screamed off the canvas. Alyssa…
“You think she’ll be okay with us?”
He jerked on a blue Henley he’d grabbed from somewhere, his jeans still undone. God he was gorgeous.
“I don’t see why not. Alyssa is Alyssa and if she’d had a problem with you, she would have said something. She’s not shy about that, you know. I’ve a feeling she would have said something to you while you two meditated or whatever it is you do.”
Again she smiled, then realized he was still worried about the two of them. “You know, that is pretty much what we do. I’m trying to teach her to control her gift through practice and a healthy lifestyle.”
“Control it?”
“Instead of it controlling her.” She shrugged. “I’ve just been where she is. Well, not exactly, but I’ve been in the situation where I didn’t understand what was happening to me, and the people I should have been able to count on to help me only made my life hell because I was different. There’s nothing worse than not being able to be who you are. It really screws things up inside, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know and can’t quite forgive myself for that one. Leaving her like I did.”
She tilted her head and looked at him. “Alyssa will be fine. She’s very powerful. But with her power comes a cost, from what I’ve learned. Either she learns to control her gift or it controls her. And you don’t want the latter.”
“I don’t?”
She sighed and realized she wanted to go home, think and get dressed up for him. Then her mind switched back from what she’d wear to what they were talking about. “Some think that schizophrenic patients have psychic capabilities.”
He nodded. “Some also believe they are the modern-day demon possessions.”
“Either way, I don’t want to see her go down that path when all she has to do is train herself to control her gift. So, yeah, I’ll work with her. Reminding her to enjoy life, get out and do, to eat right, stay healthy, get plenty of rest. With meditation and concentration, she should learn how to maintain her shields so that she only reads, knows, sees what she wants.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, with as powerful as she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she weren’t an indigo.”
Both brows rose. “Indigo?”
She waved a hand. “It’s a term, slang for super psychic.”
“Uh-huh.”
At the skeptical note in his voice, she gave him her attention. “Well, take me. I can read auras. I pick up on emotions because of the auras and on rare, rare occasions, with those who I’m close to, I get an inkling when things aren’t right or something might happen. The latter only twice in my life, so I don’t think it really counts.”
He shifted and buttoned his fly.
“So what’s your specialty?” she asked him.
“Huh?”
“Well, your daughter got her gift from somewhere, and from what I’ve heard about your ex, it wasn’t her.”
For a moment he just stared at her. Then he sighed. “Mostly I just know when things are right. Sometimes, though it’s been years, I kne
w when things were wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“It happened more when I was younger than it has now that I’m older. Though with art, it’s still there. I just follow my gut instinct on what will work and what won’t. So far it’s steered me right. I haven’t gone bankrupt yet.”
“Intuition. Got it.”
“So, indigo?”
She pulled on her coat. “Well, Alyssa has them all, or at least a multitude of gifts.” How to simplify? “Think super psychic for a very loose term. From her aura, I could see so much. She’s intuitive, like you, but I think she’s clairvoyant, more than likely her precognition is highly developed. Probably an empath, and from things she’s mentioned to me, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t also a medium. The really strong ones usually are.”
For a minute he didn’t say anything.
She pulled her hair from under her collar and looked at him. “What?”
A frown wrinkled his brow as he stared at her.
“What?” she asked again, wondering what the hell she’d said to have put that look on his face.
“I knew she was special.” He softly asked her, “You really think she’s that gifted?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitating.
He sat on the edge of the chaise. “She’s that gifted.”
What was this? She studied him and wondered if he was okay. Maybe she should have explained it differently? She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I need to go home and change, especially if we’re going out to eat.” He was staring at the floor, his hands hanging between his knees.
Okay, so he definitely needed to think.
Without another word, she walked to the door.
“Lake?”
She turned, her hand on the knob.
His eyes were shuttered, his expression guarded, but still she felt the hurt and confusion waving off him, saw the regret shimmering in his aura.
“She always said, and I believed her…” He trailed off. “But her mother…” He shook his head. “And all this time, she’s been to doctors, been medicated, told that she wasn’t what she was.” His eyes were filled with pain. “What kind of parent does that to their child?”
