She barely kept from rubbing the ache. “How did you know?”
He reached for the bandages. “I’m observant.”
Maybe so, but she hadn’t given one clue her neck hurt. “I’m fine. No need for bandages.” She wanted to keep the bite from Jordan as long as she could. How freakin’ embarrassing was that?
Kane cleared his throat. “Okay.”
Curiosity reared up. “What’s it like? I mean, being the smartest guy on the planet?”
An elegant shoulder lifted. “It’s pretty convenient.”
Amusement had her smiling. She’d expected him to be nonchalant or humble, maybe even deny he was so brilliant. “No, really, don’t argue with me. You’re super smart. Honest.”
He rubbed his chin with long, tapered fingers, good humor lighting his eyes. “Well, there are issues. Genius and madness skirt a fine line. Most geniuses go stark raving mad at some point.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
“I’m not. If the voices take over, they take over.” He grabbed a bandage from the counter to hand her. “If you change your mind, this has numbing medicine on the pad.”
She took the small object. To keep Jordan’s bite, even for a short time, she’d live with the pain.
Chapter 11
Alone in the underground bedroom, Janie stretched sleepily in her bed, waiting for daylight to arrive. She loved being inside the earth, which often whispered secrets to her. So many secrets existed right now, and every time Janie tried to see the future, it morphed into different paths. The future distorted daily.
She tugged on the horseshoe necklace around her neck. Zane had given the token to her in a dream when she’d turned five years old. Nobody could explain how she’d carried the gift from her dream into reality. They only met in dreams—and somehow the big world seemed smaller, the monsters less scary when she knew Zane waited to meet her someday.
Hurt slithered down her torso to pool in her abdomen. Sure, there was a six-year age difference between them, but they’d been friends. In fact, for too many years, Zane had been her only friend. How could he abandon her? God, she hoped he wasn’t dead. It’d been so long since she’d had a vision concerning him.
Her thoughts in turmoil, her stomach rolling, she drifted back into sleep.
The dream came quickly and she dropped right into it.
Dank and wet, the cave made her shiver. Janie rubbed her hands along chilled arms and stopped moving. Taking in each dark wall, the blistering wind whistling outside, and the smooth damp floor, she surveyed her surroundings, just as her father had taught her.
Realization came with a flash.
Dreaming. She walked in a dream ... one she hadn’t engineered. It had been so long, she’d almost missed the signs.
A low groan echoed from the darkness ahead.
She could leave, or go forth and find out what was going on. In a dream, she was safe. Probably. But regardless, Janie Kayrs had never been a coward.
Three steps forward and a dark wall stood in her way. Shuffling to the side, she discovered the passageway and slid her feet slowly, making sure the ground continued to exist. The smell of damp moss permeated her senses. A sharp turn to the right and she found a room.
One lit by a huge hole in the rock roof.
A man sprawled on the stone floor, his back to a wall, his face turned away. He was as large as Uncle Dage, with a buzz cut and wide shoulders. He’d dressed in black combat gear from flak boots to the bulletproof vest lying by his side next to a bloodied shirt. His bare chest bled from several cuts. Deep ones. The wall cradled his head as he slowly turned toward her, eyes closed. Pain etched lines at the side of his mouth and he groaned again.
The world tilted, then focused with too much speed. Janie stumbled back a step. “Zane?”
His eyes flashed open. Dark and green, they zeroed in on her. “Janie Belle?”
She shook her head against reality. He’d given her the nickname years ago, declaring “Janet Isabella” to be too long. A man’s voice, low and deep, had rumbled from what was clearly a man’s body. A muscular, adult man’s body. Thank God he wasn’t dead. “You grew up.”
His smile tightened into a grimace. “You didn’t grow.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So I’ve heard.” Caution kept her at the entrance to the cavern. “How badly are you injured?”
“I’ll be fine—just need to catch my breath.”
“You’re bleeding.” So much blood.
He exhaled with a grimace. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” Hurt filled her voice, no matter how hard she wanted to hide it. “I fell asleep, and here I am. You must be asleep and for once not blocking me.” Unless he’d passed out. He had probably passed out.
He closed his eyes again. For a man, he had dark, thick lashes. She’d known he’d be handsome, but hadn’t realized how very much. High cheekbones created manly hollows in his face, rugged and strong. The chin that had once been stubborn had grown into a thick jaw, one with an intriguing cleft in the middle. Barely. But enough of one to pique her curiosity. A scar ran from his right temple to his jaw, making him look dangerous. Deadly even.
In all her visions, in all her dreams, she’d never seen the scar.
A deep exhale sent more blood cascading down his defined abs. Whoever he’d battled had done a good job of injuring him.
No way was she letting Zane die during her dream. Thank God he still breathed. Even though he’d hurt her, she needed him to be alive. “Why did you stop talking to me?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry we had to stop talking.”
Anger swirled in her chest. “That’s not an answer.”
Long, tapered fingers reached for his shirt, which he used to wipe blood off his torso. Inhaling, he stared at the opposite wall, and the wounds slowly began to close. “You need to leave, Janie.”
Enough with the orders. She strode into the center of the room. “You’ve blocked me for years. Apparently you’re too injured to block now.” Another step closer, and she halted. “Do you need blood?” Her heart sped up at the thought.
He started. “No.” Sweeping one hand out, he sat straighter, back against the wall. “Stay where you are.”
“Or what?” She lifted her chin.
He gave a strangled cough. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
That hurt. “Yes, I have. I’m almost seventeen.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “You turn sixteen next week.”
Warmth spread through her. He’d remembered her birthday. “I don’t suppose you planned to slip into my dreams and sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ ”
His gaze dropped to the horseshoe necklace. “Sorry.”
Desire to hide the necklace had her shoulders going back. They’d been friends and she cherished the token. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am.” He bent a knee and rose unsteadily.
“No, I don’t. All I know is your father belonged to a group of vampires, and when he died, you disappeared.” She fought the very strong urge to touch him and help him up. “We can’t find out who you are.” So many times she’d asked Uncle Dage to find Zane, and so many times he said he couldn’t. She took in the battle gear, the knife strapped to Zane’s leg. “You’re obviously fighting. Who and where?”