“I won’t press you physically today,” Adam said, “but we need to explore the possibilities and range of your fear reflex. We should be out of sight of Segue here. I’d have worked with you in the training rooms inside, but they can be monitored discreetly, and with Spencer in residence, I want to play it very safe.”
Safe would be getting far, far away from here. Away from Spencer, away from Jacob, and away from Adam and his unnerving way of getting under her skin.
“Let’s start with your fear reflex. How your fear—”
Something snapped inside her. “Can you quit calling it that? My fear? What the hell is that? Makes me sound pathetic, which I am, but you don’t have rub it in every chance you get.” Talia glanced over her shoulder. Nobody there, the white block of Segue cut into shining ribbons by the trunks of the trees. Nobody was close enough to hear. “And, furthermore, the word is not accurate: It’s not a reflex and it’s not made of fear. Just because you’ve witnessed my ability when I’ve been afraid, does not mean my fear creates it. You’re implying a causal relationship where none exists. Bad logic, really.”
Adam lips twitched, one moment his demeanor hard, the next he strained for composure and gravity. As if this were funny.
He should save himself the effort.
“If not fear, then what is it? How does it work?”
“I don’t know,” Talia said. The darkness did not come from inside her like emotion. She reached for the thin, silky layers. Or—or moved into them, but without taking a step. In between one place and another, a place wraiths couldn’t reach.
But that made no sense. It would be ridiculous to articulate it.
“Well, how do you alter your environment? What is your range?” Adam stepped forward and grazed her jaw with the back of his fingers. “How is it that when I touch you in the midst of it, my perceptions change as well?”
Adam’s touch was so quick and unexpected, Talia didn’t have time to dodge it or brace for what filled her. His stroke carried an electric current of interest, all his considerable intensity focused on her. It had been there in Jacob’s cell, a strange thread of intimate curiosity in the midst of painful revelations. But now, alone with him under the sky, the sensation had an edge of intent, and most disturbing of all, desire.
Talia retreated. She couldn’t get her feelings straight when he stood so close. When his emotions tangled with her own. Did he have to crowd her space? Did he have to ask so many questions? Couldn’t he just give her a little room to breathe?
“Can you do it at will?” He dropped his hand.
His questions needed answers. She’d had a peek inside him. Now it was her turn. Aunt Maggs would be horrified that she was about to break her childhood promise to never, ever tell anyone about what she could do. Sorry, Maggs—the worst had already happened. She’d been discovered, and now she had to learn how to save herself.
“I—” Damn it. She’d never talked about this before. She remembered what Adam had been through, took a terrifying inward leap, and started again. “For me, shadows have texture and…and substance. I can feel them. Even now, I can feel them.”
They were all around her—in the dark patches under the trees, the filtered light through the leaves, the cast of her and Adam’s body on the ground. If she wanted, she could reach for the darkness, tuck herself under its umbrella to look out at life from a safe refuge.
“How does it feel?” Adam’s tone softened.
Talia sighed. “Safe. And cold.” And lonely.
“Can we try it together? You’ve been in distress each time I’ve experienced it. I’d like to…take a look around.” He held out a hand. His expression was neutral, almost businesslike, so she didn’t trust it.
Talia looked at his outstretched palm, then at his face. She didn’t want to touch him. Feel him inside her again.
“Come on.” He wiggled his fingers. “We’ve done this before. Let’s just take it nice and slow. Go easy.”
But she’d been afraid for so long. It was past time to try something new. Talia braced for the worst and grasped his hand.
Sensations inundated her. His relief. Amazing control. Curiosity with, yes, a distinct sexual undercurrent that sent eddies of arousal to burn and buzz through her blood to her belly. Talia swallowed hard and tamped down on her reaction, fighting to think. She couldn’t be turning him on, that was for sure. Could be the anticipation of her trick with shadow that gave him a charge. Or fighting Spencer. Anything but her.
Only when she shoved that feeling away did she notice something darker, uncomfortable, even toxic within him that she couldn’t name and didn’t want to try.
“When you’re ready,” Adam said.
This was insane. She was certain she’d regret it later. Anxiety constricted her breathing, tightened her skin, but she pulled on shadow, softly.
She heard Adam’s intake of breath as she wrapped the veil around them, the day falling from sunny blue to a dreamy murk. They stood in layered fog, the veils of shadow sensuously lapping at their bodies. The trees, the meadow beyond, the hulk of Segue were all there, yet somehow appeared transient. As if one good gust of wind might carry it all away.
Adam’s hand warmed in hers. He filled her with his wonder, which was better than all the rest. Made her realize how beautiful shadow was, too.
“A little more,” he said.
Talia reached, and the day darkened to dusk, the orb of the sun shifting from blazing yellow to deep violet. The world turned to myriad purples and shades of blue and black. Sounds stretched so that the birds’ twitters and crickets’ chirps became high, eerie notes warped by darkness. Shadow settled on her shoulders and slid deliciously against her skin in welcome.
Adam’s wonder turned to awe and building excitement.
Talia glanced at him to see how much of what he felt could be read on his face.
He looked down at her, about to say something, but instead he stopped and stared. That sensation was back, a trickle in the sense of his discovery, then a flood blotting it out. Desire.
So he did want her.
She’d have torn herself away, but his gaze held her. His eyes lowered to her mouth, then forcibly lifted again.
She trembled, tension coiling in her deepest core, and Adam’s grip tightened. Tugged her toward him. She stumbled, but allowed him to enfold her, turning her in the circle of his arms so that her back was trembling against the wall of his chest, yet still holding her hand. He felt so good she let herself stay, and be, quivering in anticipation of what he’d do next.
“Do you have a name for this place?” His voice was a low caress at her ear, his breath in her hair.
Swamped sensations muddled her head. “Segue?”
“This isn’t Segue, not anymore. This is…”
Oh. “Between. Shadow.”
His mouth grazed her neck, temptation roaring across their connection. She could’ve easily lost herself to it. Wanted to lose herself. To feel everything his touch promised.
He shifted slightly behind her, lifting his head, surveying the valley again. She turned her face to catch the warmth coming off his body—so much better than the chill of her darkness.
But she caught a hint of that bad feeling again, bleeding insidiously into the desire.
“What would happen if…” his words cut off in a surge of longing.
“Yes?” her own longing answered.
“…if someone were to die here? Do you know?”
Talia tensed. Tried to pull out of his hold. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He held on tightly. “Jacob. If I killed him here, would he stay dead?”