"I want you," he said. "I want you too."
"Come to bed."
"I want to. But I can't. It's… it's just a lousy idea. It's been a long time for me. I can't just climb into bed with you and perform all kinds of weird Tantric sex acts. It's not what I want. You can't even come, for crissake!"
He combed through her hair with his fingers. "All right." He held her a while longer, then let her go. "Do you want anything? A drink?"
"Some coffee, if you have any."
He put water on the stove and ground a handful of beans, watching her over the breakfast bar. "What I can't understand," he said, "is why I can't get anything from these people's minds."
"You don't think I'm making all this up?"
"I know you're not," Fortunato said. "I could tell if you were lying."
She shook her head. "You take a lot of getting used to."
"Some things are more important than social niceties." The water boiled. Fortunato made two cups and took them to the couch.
"If they're as big as you think they are," Eileen said, "they're bound to have aces working with them. Somebody who could set up blocks for them, blocks against other people with mental powers."
"I guess."
She drank a little of the coffee. "I met Balsam this afternoon. We all got together at the bookstore."
"What's he like?"
"Smooth. He looked like a banker or something. Threepiece suit, glasses. But tanned, like he plays a lot of tennis on weekends."
"What did he say?"
"They finally mentioned the word `Mason.' Like it was the last test, to see if it would freak me out. Then Balsam gave me a history lesson. How the Scottish and York Rite Masons were just offshoots of the Speculative Masons, and that they only went back to the eighteenth century."
Fortunato nodded. "That's all true."
"Then he started talking about Solomon, and how the architect of his temple was actually an Egyptian. That Masonry started with Solomon, and all the other rites had lost the original meaning. But they say they've still got it. Just like you figured."
"I have to go with you tonight."
"There's no way you could get in. Not even if you disguised yourself. They'd know you.",
"I could send my astral body. I could still see and hear everything. "
"If somebody else came here in their astral body, could you see them?"
"Of course."
"Well? It's a hell of chance to take, isn't it?"
"All right, okay."
"It has to be just me. There's no other way."
"Unless."
"Unless what?"
"Unless I went inside you," he said. "What are you talking about?"
"The power is in my sperm. If you were carrying-"
"Oh, come on," she said. "Of all the lame excuses to get somebody into bed…" She stared at him. "You're not kidding, are you?"
"You cant go in there alone. Not just because of the danger. Because you can't do enough by yourself. You can't read their minds. I can."
"Even if you're just-hitching a ride?" Fortunato nodded.
"Oh God," she said. "This is-there's so many reasons not to-I'm having my period, for one thing."
"So much the better."
She grabbed her left wrist and held it close to her chest. "I told myself if I ever went to bed with a man again-and I said if-it would have to be romantic. Candlelight and flowers and everything. And look at me."
Fortunato knelt in front of her and gently moved her hands away. "Eileen," he said. "I love you."
"That's easy for you to say. I'm sure you mean it and everything, but I'm also sure you say it all the time. There's only two men I've ever said it to in my life, and one of them was my father."
"I'm not talking about how you feel. I'm not talking about forever. I'm talking about me, right now. And I love you." He. picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
It was cold in there and her teeth started to chatter. Fortunato lit the gas heater and sat down next to her on the bed. She took his right hand in both of hers and held it to her mouth. He kissed her and felt her respond, almost against her will. He took his clothes off and pulled the covers over the two of them and began to unbutton her blouse. Her breasts were large and soft, the nipples tightening under his tongue as he kissed them.
"Wait," she said. "I have to… I have to go to the bathroom."
When she came back she had taken the rest of her clothes off. She was holding a towel in front of her. "To save your sheets," she said. There was a smear of blood on the inside of one thigh.
He took the towel away from her. "Don't worry about the sheets." She stood naked in front of him. She looked like she was afraid he would send her away. He put his head between her breasts and pulled her toward him.
She got under the covers again and kissed him and her tongue flickered into his mouth. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, the underside of her chin. Then he rolled onto his hands and knees above her.
"No," she whispered, "I'm not ready yet.. "
He held his penis in one hand and moved the head of it against her labia, slowly, gently, feeling the brittle flesh turn warm and wet. She bit her lower lip, her eyes closed. Slowly he slipped inside her, the friction sending waves of pleasure up his spine.
He kissed her again. He could feel her lips moving against his, mouthing inaudible words. His hands moved up her sides, around her back. He remembered that he was used to making love for hours at a time and the thought amazed him. It was all too intense. He was full of heat and light; he couldn't contain it all.
"Aren't you supposed to say something?" Eileen whispered, breathing raggedly around the words. "Some kind of magic spell or something?"
Fortunato kissed her again, his lips tingling like they'd been asleep and were just now coming back to life. "I love you," he said.
"Oh God," she said, and started to cry. Tears rolled down into her hair and at the same time her hips moved faster against him. Their bodies were flushed and hot and sweat ran down Fortunato's chest. Eileen stiffened and kicked. A second later Fortunato's own brain went white and he fought off ten years of training and let it happen, let the power spurt out of him and into the woman and for an instant he was both of them at once, hermaphroditic and all-encompassing, and he felt himself expand to the ends of the universe in a giant nuclear blaze.
And then he was back in bed with Eileen, feeling her breasts rise and fall under him as she cried.
The only light came from the gas heater. He must have slept. The pillowcase felt like sandpaper against his cheek. It took all his strength to roll over onto his back.
Eileen was putting on her shoes. "It's almost time," she said.
"How do you feel?" he said.
"Unbelievable. Strong. Powerful." She laughed. "I've never felt like this."
He closed his eyes, slid into her mind. He could see himself lying on the bed, skeletal, his dark golden skin disappearing into the shadows, his forehead shrunken to where it blended smoothly into his hairless scalp.
"And you," she said. He could feel her voice echoing in her chest. "Are you all right?"
He drifted back to his own body. "Weak," he said. "But I'll be okay."
"Should I… call somebody for you?"
He knew what she was offering, knew he should agree to it. Caroline, or one of the others, would be the fastest way to get his power back. But it would also weaken his bond to Eileen. "No," he said.
She finished dressing and bent over to kiss him lingeringly. "Thank you," she said.
"Don't," he said. "Don't thank me."
"I'd better go." Her impatience, her strength and vitality, were a physical force in the room. He was too distant from it to be jealous of her. Then she was gone, and he slept again.
He watched through Eileen's eyes as she stood by the front door of the bookstore, waiting for Clarke to close up. He could have moved all the way into her mind, but it would have used up what little strength he was slowly getting back. Besides, he was warm and comfortable where he was. Until the hands grabbed him and shook him awake and he was looking into a pair of gold shields. "Get your clothes on," a voice said. "You're under arrest."