“That’s always the way it is.” Celinda made a tut-tutting sound. “The client is less than forthcoming on the questionnaires and then complains when the match isn’t perfect.”
Was she teasing him? He couldn’t believe it.
“Damn it, Celinda.”
She drew her knees up under the bedclothes and wrapped her arms around them. “I did some thinking on the way home last night while you were sleeping. It’s not like there isn’t a long tradition of myths and legends about people who can make themselves invisible or appear to do so. Some of the stories go back to Old Earth tales.”
“I know. Trust me, I’ve done the research. A lot of the tales are linked to military or combat traditions.”
“Ninja warriors?”
“Among others. I found a couple of legends involving invisibility when I studied records of an Old Earth group called the Arcane Society, too.”
She frowned. “I remember running across a mention of the Society in a History of the Paranormal class I took in college. It was an organization devoted to psychic research, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. There are also plenty of stories about Old World magicians who could pull off invisibility.”
She watched him very steadily. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “We’re human. Something here on Harmony is pushing the evolution of psychic talents in the population, but that probably wouldn’t happen if we didn’t already carry some innate genetic ability to access the paranormal plane. I think it’s possible that there may have been a few humans back on Old Earth who could do what I do.”
She thought about that. “The talent is obviously rare. It’s likely to stay rare, too. Judging from what I saw last night, it exacts a huge price in terms of physical and paranormal energy.”
“Yes.”
She searched his face. “Trig told me how you wound up in the hospital for a long period of time after you rescued a little girl who had been kidnapped. To avoid the kidnappers you had to keep yourself and the child invisible for over five minutes. He said the resulting coma lasted for weeks.”
“The real problem,” he said quietly, “was that I wasn’t unconscious that whole time.”
She stared at him, eyes widening with sympathetic horror. “Dear heaven. You mean you were aware of what was going on around you, but you couldn’t communicate?”
“For the first three days or so after I collapsed I was completely under. But after they got me into the hospital, they started experimenting with their damn drugs in an effort to bring me out of the coma. They succeeded, but only partway. I could walk if someone steered me. I could eat if someone fed me. But I couldn’t initiate any action. I couldn’t speak.”
She tightened her arms around her knees, hugging herself. “I was in a similar kind of limbo after Landry shot me full of that heavy-duty tranquilizer drug. But at least I was only trapped for a few hours. I can’t even imagine how bad days and weeks in that condition would have been.”
“The orderlies used to take me outside to sit on the veranda.” He grimaced. “They probably figured that looking at the gardens would be soothing. But I hated those gardens. Every time they sat me down on that damn veranda, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to walk away from that place.”
“I understand.”
“In fairness, it wasn’t the fault of the doctors. They’d never seen anything like my case before. They had no protocol for treating me, so they went with the experimental approach. In their place, I’d have done the same thing.”
“What happened?” she asked. “How did they finally bring you around?”
“They didn’t. For the most part, all the drugs did was suppress my psi senses and tranquilize me into a stupor. Eventually they tried a drug that was not very effective. I was able to surface long enough to say a few words.”
“What words?”
“‘Stop the damn drugs.’”
“Good choice. How long did it take you to recover?”
“Took about three days for the drugs to wear off enough so that I could move on my own without falling down. The first thing I did was check myself out of the hospital.” He smiled very thinly. “The director did not approve.”
“How long would the psi coma have lasted if they hadn’t given you the drugs?”
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “For obvious reasons, I don’t have a lot of practical experience with the problem. Going invisible for more than a minute or two just requires too much energy. Take it from me, it’s not pleasant sliding into even a short-term coma.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “The dreams are not sweet.”
“You dream while you’re in that state?”
“Yes.” He felt his jaw tighten. “After what happened last night, I should have been out for at least three or four days, maybe longer. I’ve never burned that much psi before. For all I know, I might not have come out of it at all. But what I experienced was just a routine hunter crash, the kind I get after working a normal level of silver. Trig said you used the relic on me?”
“It not only enhanced my own natural ability to read psi energy, it allowed me to manipulate your patterns. During the fight underground, I was able to use it to enhance the fear of two of the hunters.” She gave him a very sober, serious look. “It’s a very powerful tool, Davis.”
He did not want to fight this battle now, he thought.
“I see,” he said neutrally.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
She fixed him with a determined look. “Bet you ten bucks I wouldn’t have screamed. At least not because I woke up and discovered that part of you was invisible.”
“Celinda.” He stopped. He had no clue what to say next.
“Of course, I might have screamed for another reason,” she added. Her eyes were very green now. “The same reason I screamed the other night in the hotel room in Frequency.”
“I’m a freak, Celinda.”
“No, don’t you dare say that. It’s not true.”
She came up off the sofa bed like a small whirlwind. He had time to register the fact that she was wearing a very demure white nightgown that covered her from throat to toes before she was standing directly in front of him, eyes brilliant with outrage.
“Listen to me, Davis Oakes, you are not a freak. Benson Landry is a freak. Trust me, with my kind of talent, I know the difference. You are a good man, a fine man. You are a brave, honorable man. You are all the things that Landry is not.”
“Hey,” he said, taken aback by her fierceness. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m no hero.”
She gripped his shoulders with both hands, tried to shake him a little. “Yes, you are. You’re my hero.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
His reaction was immediate. He was suddenly hot and desperate for her. He pulled her close against his chest, aware of the gentle, ripe feel of her breasts through the thin fabric of the modest nightgown. He realized that her nipples were hard.
She did not try to retreat. As far as he could tell, she was as hungry for him as he was for her. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back down the hall to the bedroom.
He got rid of the nightgown and dropped her lightly onto the rumpled bed. Within seconds he was out of his own clothes and falling on top of her. She was soft and damp, and the scent of her body made his head spin.
She coiled around him as she had last night, but this wasn’t like last night. Last night had been all about warmth and connection, about holding on the way you hold on to a lifeline. This morning was about headlong desire, heat, and reckless thrills.
They struggled against each other for the embrace. The wrestling was no holds barred. When her hand curled around his erection, he sucked in his breath. When he looked down at her, he saw the sensual challenge in her eyes. She opened her mouth a little, giving him a shadowy glimpse of the tip of her tongue.
In retaliation, he caught her wrists and anchored them in one hand above her head. She taunted him with a sexy, seductive smile that let him know more clearly than words that as far as she was concerned, she had won the small battle.