Helen and Susan looked stunned.
Helen turned to Alice.
“You’ve been living on the streets all this time?”
“It wasn’t so bad,” Alice said with a touch of pride. “Winter and I took care of each other. I told you, we’re sisters.”
Brittany looked at Helen and Susan. “Two months on the streets is a very long time for a couple of girls their age. There may be some separation anxiety issues when Alice leaves with you. I’ll make sure that Winter gets counseling.”
Helen and Susan exchanged glances again. A silent message was sent and received. Susan smiled at Brittany.
“There’s no need to send Alice and Winter down the hall for a soda,” she said. “Winter will be coming with us—assuming that’s what she wants, of course.”
Alice gave Winter a triumphant grin. “Told you that my aunts would take both of us.”
Winter had been about to open the door. She froze, a disorienting sense of unreality sweeping through her. It wasn’t that simple. It was never that simple—not in the world she had entered when she had been orphaned.
Brittany fixed Helen and Susan with a considering look. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Helen and Susan looked at Winter.
“Positive,” Helen said.
Susan turned back to Brittany. “About that paperwork you mentioned—”
Brittany got a very serious, very determined expression and went back around behind her desk. She slipped on a pair of glasses, cranked up her computer and started tapping keys.
“I’ll close out Alice’s file today,” she said. “That will be a straightforward matter. Family members took her into their care.”
“What about Winter?” Alice asked.
Brittany paused long enough to peer over the rims of her glasses. “Under most circumstances that would be much more complicated. However, it turns out that Winter disappeared several times in the past year. I haven’t had time to open a new file on her. Terrible backlog here in the office, you know. I don’t see why she can’t disappear again. If she wants to come back into the system, she knows where to find me.”
Alice glowed and turned to Winter. “See? You’re coming with us.”
Helen smiled at Winter. “It’s your choice, but why not give us a chance? We’ll find a hotel. Susan and I need to get cleaned up and then we’ll get some dinner and talk about what we’re going to do next. If you don’t like what you hear, you can always go back to the streets.”
Winter braced herself. “There’s something you should know about me.”
“Okay,” Susan said. “You can tell us over dinner.”
Sometime later, halfway through an extra-large, family-size pizza, Winter told Helen and Susan about her talent for hypnosis. She was pretty sure it would be the end of the whole we’re-all-gonna-be-a-new-family thing. They would assume she either had serious psychological problems or she was flat-out lying. At least she had gotten some pizza out of the deal.
“We think Winter might be a real witch,” Alice concluded proudly.
“Not a witch,” Helen said. She studied Winter with a thoughtful expression. “Everyone has a talent, but some talents are more complicated than others. We’ll figure out what to do with your skill set, Winter. But with an ability that powerful you’re going to need to establish rules for using it.”
“Rules?” Winter said.
Susan smiled. “A code, one you can use to determine when and how to use your talent.”
“Everyone needs a code to live by,” Helen said.
“How do I figure out my code?” Winter asked.
“Don’t worry,” Susan said. “You will. That’s part of what being a family is all about. Now, then, brace yourself, ladies. You’re going to be homeschooled. Except you won’t be at home, at least not very much of the time. You’ll be with us in the field.”
Alice’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You’re going to take us with you when you do your research?”
“We’ll need to get passports for both of you,” Helen said. “And some trek gear. There will also be a few shots involved. Oh, and Winter?”
“Yes?”
“Until you know what you’re going to do with your talent and decide on your personal code, it would probably be a good idea not to mention the hypnosis thing to anyone outside the family.”
“Okay,” Winter said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jack turned off the lights, got into bed and spent some time alternating between listening to the silence in the adjoining room and running scenarios for Quinton Zane’s endgame. Always assuming that my suspicions are correct. At this point he did not have enough information to know if he really was chasing Zane or just another ghost.
When he was weary of telling himself he had to get more data before he concluded that Zane was behind the attack on Winter, he stopped and thought about Winter instead.
Eventually he fell asleep.
And plunged into the fire maze dream . . .
. . . The dreamer walked through endless hallways of molten lava, searching for the burning footprints that would tell him he was on the right path. From time to time he glimpsed a figure in the dark shadows of the flames but whenever he tried to pursue it, the ghostly silhouette vanished down yet another fiery hallway.
He stopped at the intersection of two corridors and listened carefully. Faint laughter echoed from somewhere deep in the maze. Zane.
The dreamer moved more quickly, following the sound. He told himself that he was closing in on his quarry but a part of him knew that he was rushing forward into a trap. Still, he went deeper into the maze because he was close . . . so close . . .
He turned a corner and found himself in the seething, flaming heart of the maze. Zane was there, waiting for him; smiling in triumph.
“Welcome to my world,” Zane said. “I control everything here. You are on my ground because you walked straight into the trap I set for you.”
“I don’t belong here,” the dreamer said.
“I’m afraid it’s much too late for you to leave,” Zane said. “This is like the Hotel California. You can check in but you can’t check out.”
The dreamer looked around, searching for the corridor that would take him back to the entrance of the maze. But everywhere he turned he saw only hallways of fire that dead-ended in walls of scorching flames.
He could not afford to panic. There was a way out. All he had to do was find the escape word.
A figure appeared at the end of a fiery hallway, beckoning to him. He recognized her instantly.
“Winter,” he said.
And just like that he was out of the dream. Relief threatened to overwhelm him. He drew a deep, steadying breath.
“What’s wrong?” Winter asked.
He looked around and saw her in the opening between the two bedrooms. The perspective was wrong, he thought. He was in bed. He should be viewing Winter from a different angle.
But he was not in bed. He was standing at the window. Winter was watching him anxiously. He looked down. At least he was not in a hospital gown and festooned with electrical leads this time, but all he had on was a pair of white briefs and a white undershirt.
“Shit,” he said.
Well, at least she wasn’t screaming. But, then, he had a feeling it would take a lot to make Winter scream.
“You were dreaming, weren’t you?” Winter said.
“Yeah.” He groaned. “Sorry I woke you up. I thought I told you not to come in here.”
She was dressed in a long nightgown. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and her feet were bare. She looked way too soft and inviting.
He wished he had a robe to put on but there wasn’t one.
“I heard you say my name,” Winter said. “I thought you might need help.”
“It was the damned fire maze dream. I didn’t dream it on purpose. It was just waiting for me after I fell asleep.”
“I was afraid it wouldn’t go away quietly,” Winter said. “You reran that dream many times. You spent time and energy constructing the maze. I’m sure the imagery is still very vivid for you. But it will fade as you become more familiar with your new dreamscape.”
“Good to know.” He paused. “The dream was different tonight.”
“In what way?”
“For the first time I got to the heart of the maze. Zane was there, waiting for me. Laughing at me. He said I had walked into the trap he had set. He told me that this time I wouldn’t be able to get out of the maze.”
“Well, obviously you did.”
He nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off her. “I used the escape word.”
“I’m glad it worked.” Winter hesitated on the threshold. “Well, if everything is okay, I’ll go back to bed.”
“Winter.”
She had started to retreat back into her own room but she stopped.
“What?” she said.
“That’s my escape word. Winter. I used it tonight to end the dream. That’s why you heard me calling your name.”
“You used my name,” she repeated softly.
He wondered if he had somehow managed to offend her. “Is it okay with you?”
She looked as if she had to give her answer some deep thought.
“Yes,” she said finally. “Yes, it’s okay to use my name. I mean, whatever works for you.”
“It works for me.”
“Good. That’s good, then.”
She started to retreat into her own room.
“Tell me the truth,” he said. “Do you think that the dreaming thing means I might be borderline unstable?”
She turned back. “I’ve told you, I’m sure that what you do is a form of meditation or self-hypnosis.”
“You’re sure? Because I have to tell you, sometimes I wonder if I’m sunk so deep in the currents of my conspiracy theory that I can’t see the true patterns.”
She strode briskly across the room and stopped in front of him, inches away.
“Here’s what I know,” she said. “You were born to do what you do.”
“Weave conspiracy theories?”
“No. One of my foster mothers once told me that everyone has a talent. Yours is hunting bad guys.”
“I don’t have any choice when it comes to this particular bad guy.”
“Maybe it was Zane, the demon from your childhood, who ignited your passion for what is now your life’s work. But a talent for hunting bad guys must have been there from the start. Sooner or later it would have manifested itself. It was just a matter of time. You not only found your mission, you have a code, and you live by that code. You are a decent man, a man of honor, Jack Lancaster. Do you realize how rare that is in today’s world?”
He smiled. He did not know if it was the result of the incredible relief he felt because she hadn’t screamed when she saw him surfacing from the maze dream or because she didn’t think he was crazy. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Whatever the case, he felt good. Better than good.
He raised his hands to capture her face.
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he said.
This time she was the one who smiled.
“In that case I must remember to do it more often.”
“Winter.”
She put her arms around him and raised her lips to his.
“Yes,” she said. “Absolutely yes.”
He covered her mouth with his own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The kiss was inferno-hot and soul-deep. It swept over her and through her, a storm of energy that intoxicated her senses.
She had been in a self-imposed trance for most of her adult life, afraid to trust a lover with her deepest secrets. But Jack’s kiss shattered the invisible barrier that she had erected to protect her heart. The past and the future did not magically disappear but for now they could be set aside. Jack knew the truth about her talent and he was okay with it. He did not think that she was weird or delusional. He not only believed her; he was not afraid of her.
She was free to hurl herself headlong into the exhilarating torrent of desire. She returned his kiss with all the fierce, hot energy of a woman who had suddenly decided to take risks. She needed this kiss. She deserved it. She had waited long enough to find out what it was like to be caught up in the raw energy of passion.
Jack groaned and tore his mouth from hers. His glasses were still on the nightstand so there was nothing to mask the heat in his eyes.
“‘Tyger Tyger, burning bright,’” she quoted softly.
“What?”
“Not what, who. William Blake.”
“You’re thinking about poetry?” He sounded incredulous.
“Forget it.” She slid her thigh up the side of his leg, tango-dancer style. Her nightgown rode high above her knee. “Kiss me.”
“No problem.”
He kissed her again, hard and deep. She tightened her arms around him. His heavily aroused body thrilled her. She had summoned this response from him, she thought. He wanted her. She was dazzled, euphoric; a little giddy at the knowledge that she had the power to command so much intense passion from a man who wielded so much self-control. It was even more exciting to know that she was capable of responding with equal heat.
With an obvious effort Jack took a step back and caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“You look . . . fierce,” he said.
It wasn’t quite what she had expected him to say. He hadn’t used words like beautiful, gorgeous or lovely. That was the thing about Jack. A man who was driven to find predictable patterns in others was himself unpredictable in some unexpected ways. He was right about one thing, though—she was feeling very fierce. Sultry. Intense. Hot.
She traced the unyielding line of his jaw with her fingertips. He did not blink—just continued to fix her with his relentless gaze—but she could feel the sensual tension that tightened every muscle in his body.
“Are you good with fierce?” she asked.
He bound one of his hands in a fistful of her hair.
“Fierce definitely works for me,” he said. “Just like your name works for me. Winter.”
The way he said her name—low and rough with desire—thrilled her.
He cradled her head in his palm, drew her closer and kissed her again.
By the time he finished she could hardly catch her breath.
“What about you?” he said. “Are you good with fierce?”
“I think so, yes.”
“You think so?”
“Never actually been there,” she admitted. “Just sort of skirted the edges of it a few times.”
He surprised her with a husky sound that was half exultant laugh and half sexy growl.
He caught her wrist, drew her to the side of the bed and hauled her nightgown off over her head. She thought that his hands trembled a little. The garment pooled at her feet.
He gripped her waist, the edge of his palms resting on the curve of her hips. For a moment he just looked at her.
“I knew you would be perfect,” he said. “And you are. Perfect. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, Winter. My whole life.”
“I’m right here,” she said.
She knew that his judgment was probably clouded by desire but in that moment she did not give a damn. Her judgment was most likely clouded, too. It seemed like a win-win, at least for tonight. Tomorrow could take care of itself.
She got him out of his white T-shirt and flung the garment across the room. His shoulders were sleek and powerful. His skin radiated a vital, elemental heat that made her want to wrap herself around him.
>
He drew his hands up her rib cage until his thumbs rested just beneath her breasts. Then, very deliberately, he caught her earlobe lightly between his teeth, sending the message that he could match her when it came to fierce. A shiver of excitement sparked through her.
Before she realized his intent he scooped her up in his arms and let her fall lightly onto the tumbled white sheets. He did not take his eyes off her as he got out of his briefs and cast them aside.
She was taken aback by the size of his erection but in the next instant fascination set in. She took him in her hand and stroked him.
He groaned and came down on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows. He began to kiss her thoroughly and completely. When he worked one hand down her body to the hot, wet place between her thighs, she shuddered. The little eddies of excitement deep inside her became a riptide, pulling everything tighter and tighter until she could hardly bear the tension.
She shifted beneath him and sank her fingers into the taut muscles of his perspiration-slick back. He wedged a leg between her thighs, opening her up to his ever more intimate touch. She raised one knee, issuing a silent invitation.
“You first,” he whispered.
It was both a command and a promise. She was about to warn him that if they waited for her to climax first, they might be there indefinitely. But before she could get the words out of her mouth he did something amazing with his fingers.
And she was lost.
She was not prepared for her release. It came out of nowhere, splashing through her, flooding her senses, stopping her very breath.
She was still dealing with the cascade of sensations when he thrust into her, going deep. She did not know if the shock of his entry triggered a second climax or simply extended the one that she was riding. All she could do was hang on tight.
Jack surged into her again and again before he sank into her fully, filling her completely. In that moment his body was so hard and taut he could have been channeling lightning.
She opened her eyes and watched him with a sense of wonder. A hunger for which there were no words sharpened the planes and angles of his face.
Untouchable Page 15
