There was a short, tense pause.
"You don't appear to be having any trouble dealing with my talent," Rafe pointed out dryly. "That makes you something more than a full-spectrum. A lot more. In fact, now that I've had a chance to focus at this level with you, I can see that there's something different about the kind of prism you project. What is it?"
Orchid was suddenly grateful for the enveloping darkness. It made it impossible for Rafe to see her blush. At least, she amended, thinking of his para-heightened senses, she hoped it made it impossible for him to notice the heat she felt in her cheeks.
"I'm an ice-prism," she mumbled. Until tonight there had been no reason to demonstrate the full range of her abilities to Rafe.
"A what?"
"An ice-prism."
There was another short silence. "I've heard of those. Never met one."
"There aren't very many of us around."
"Is it true what they say about ice-prisms?" He sounded genuinely curious. "Can you really manipulate the prisms you project?"
"Mr. Stonebraker, do you have any immediate plans to get us out of here or are we going to hang around chatting all night?"
"Sure." An unexpected note of amusement laced his voice. "But you've got to admit that this is rather ironic. A couple of psychic vampires meeting in the dark. Just like something out of a novel. One of yours, perhaps?"
It was uncomfortably similar to a scene in her latest book, Dark Desires, but she had no intention of telling him that.
Out on the metaphysical plane, the raw chaos of energy pulsed through the prism, emerging in sharply controlled, brilliant bands of power. Orchid knew that, so long as she channeled the energy for him, Rafe could use it the way he used any of his other senses.
Strat-talent energy waves looked different from other kinds of paranormal power. The colors were deeper, stronger, less transparent. They vibrated on slightly different wavelengths, augmenting ancient hunting instincts and heightening senses that had long been lost to mankind. That was why the experts considered them more primitive in an evolutionary sense.
Rafe's psychic energy was fierce and powerful but it was clean, even at this level of intensity. It was not tainted with the muddy hues of evil and incipient madness that had shaded Calvin Hyde's talent.
She watched, enthralled as the energy surged across the metaphysical plane. It was exhilarating to focus at the highest ranges of her own power. This was what she had been born to do, she thought. It was akin to breaking into a run after walking all of her life.
She knew that she was not the only one savoring the experience. She could feel Rafe's exultant satisfaction. It occurred to her that he had probably seldom, if ever, had a chance to focus at this level for any extended period of time.
"Five hells." He sounded slightly dazed. "This is good. This is incredible."
She smiled to herself. The urge to show off overwhelmed common sense. She was an ice-prism, after all. One who rarely got to exercise the full range of her unique abilities.
You think this is good? she thought. Watch this.
She studied the nuances of Rafe's strat-talent, noting the rhythms of the waves, the subtle differences in hues, the texture of his surging power.
Using the exquisite control she wielded over her own psychic energy, she made minute adjustments in the focus. A gentle alteration here, a slight sharpening of power there . . .
The prism glittered as she went to work on its myriad crystal facets. When she was finished the metaphysical construct was so brilliantly clear that it seemed to glow with the light of an inner sun.
She heard Rafe groan. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath as he watched his powerful talent focused with preternatural clarity and precision. It was the kind of elemental sound he might make in the moment of sexual release, Orchid thought, fascinated. An answering rush of sensual heat flooded her stomach.
This was ridiculous. She took a couple of meta-zen-syn breaths to regain her self-control.
"It's as if you made that prism just for me," Rafe whispered.
"I did."
"A perfect focus."
"I told you, I'm an ice-prism."
"So it really is true ... I never realized—" He broke off abruptly.
Orchid took a couple more controlled breaths and called on an old meta-zen-syn mantra. Balance and harmony, she chanted silently to herself. Balance and harmony was the key. The last thing she wanted to do was make a fool out of herself in front of Clementine's most exclusive client.
She had not felt anything that even remotely resembled physical attraction when she had focused for Calvin Hyde three years ago. All she had experienced on that occasion was complete and utter revulsion.
So why the sudden rush of yearning when she focused for Rafe?
Even now, in the midst of the crisis, she was aware of a passionate sense of intimacy, a wistful need for something more, something she could not describe. After her first focus assignment with him she had assured herself that the bizarre side effects of the focus link would disappear when she grew accustomed to working with his unusual talent.
But familiarity was definitely not leading to boredom or even to the customary, emotionally neutral state that defined the usual focus link.
"I'd rather not spend the rest of the night here," she said briskly. "Got any ideas of where the crypto-talent installed the second exit?"
"I'm a strat-talent, remember? I can find things."
"Even in the dark?"
"Especially in the dark. Why do you think I prefer to work at night?"
Chapter 2
"Well? Did you find the seam you thought would be there?" Orchid's voice held a crisp edge of urgency.
"Yes." Rafe ran his fingertips along the wall. His focus-heightened sense of touch assured him that it was more than the place where two strips of steel had been joined. He could feel the faint trace of escaping ah-. "It's here. Right where I thought it would be."
"You're kidding?" A cautious relief bubbled in the words. "You actually found it?"
It occurred to him that she had not been terribly optimistic about his chances of locating the second exit. "Nice to know I had your confidence all along."
"Yes, well, I didn't mean to imply that I doubted your ability, it's just that—"
"Forget it."
"I've insulted you, haven't I?"
"I'll get over it."
"I'm glad to hear that," she said. "But you've got to admit, I had cause to be concerned. It's impossible to see my own hand in front of my face. The odds against your finding a hidden door were pretty dismal."
"No, they weren't. The odds were pretty damn good that I would locate it. Anything a crypto-talent can hide, I ought to be able to find."
The gallery was as dark as the inside of a sarcophagus but with his para-sharpened awareness, Rafe did not need light to see what he was doing.
He could make do without illumination, he thought. What he really needed at that moment was a cold shower. Orchid was standing much too close. Her unique, shatteringly feminine scent was distracting in the normal course of events. It became a heady drug to his paranormal-enhanced senses. He could feel the heat of her body even though she was not touching him. Hell, he could feel the heat of his own body. He was burning up with the crazy desire that always hit him when he linked with Orchid.
Primitive. The word seared through him. He was in control, he thought. He was not a beast.
He took a couple of meta-zen-syn breaths to steady himself. Then he shoved a bookcase away from the wall. It had only taken a few minutes to find the telltale seam in the stainless steel panel. Now all he had to do was locate the release mechanism that would open the emergency exit.
A piece of cake-tart under normal circumstances. A real challenge with Orchid breathing down his neck. It worried him that he had over projected a few minutes ago. Orchid now knew that he was no class six. He had not meant for her to discover that so soon in their still-prickly relationship. She did not seem unduly concerned about the fact that he was an off-the-chart talent, but that was almost beside the point.