Ghost Moon (2 page)

Rinna and Logan had both taught her so much. Enough to get around here. She had a driver’s license, Social Security number, and credit cards. They were of no use back in Sun Acres, the city where she had lived for the past nine months. But here, they were a necessity. Logan had even given her driving lessons, although she wasn’t very good at it yet.

She rubbed her arm, where an adept had removed the slave mark from her flesh. She was a free woman now. Yet she carried heavy obligations. And she must hurry.

After taking a moment to orient herself, she went to the green plastic storage bin that she had hidden in a tangle of raspberry brambles. Inside was modern American clothing. After removing a T-shirt and jeans, she stood for a moment, sending her mind outward, searching the woods for danger. In this place, it always felt like someone was watching her, yet when she looked around, she saw nothing.

Putting the feeling down to her own uneasiness, she pulled off her leather tunic, the cool evening breeze tightening her nipples. With a shiver, she snatched up the bra that Rinna had told her was part of a modern woman’s clothing here and wrestled it into place. Again she looked around, seeing no one but still feeling like someone was spying on her.

Determined to shrug off the unsettling feeling, she reached for the T-shirt.

It was tempting to keep on her own leather pants, but she knew they would look primitive in twenty-first century America. So she shucked them down her legs as rapidly as she could before donning silky panties.

When she followed them with the worn blue jeans Rinna had given her, she breathed out a little sigh.

Next she exchanged her sandals for socks and running shoes.

After bundling up the clothing and hunting knife from her own universe, she took out a fanny pack and hooked it around her waist. Inside were her ID cards—and a Sig Sauer. Logan had taught her gun safety and marksmanship, but she still hated the power of the weapon.

When she’d returned the plastic box to the tangle of brambles, she started toward the Marshalls’ stone and wood house, using a rough trail through the thick underbrush. It was a familiar route, but this time she came to a place where loose dirt and boulders had tumbled down a cliff, blocking her path.

She stopped, running a hand through her sun-streaked hair as she considered climbing over the mess. But if the rubble shifted, she could get hurt. And out here, there was no one to help her. So she reversed directions, taking an alternateroute.

She reached a small clearing in the woods and started forward,then stopped short, her nerves tingling.

Sometimes she could sense other people’s emotions. And this evening the ability was working strongly.

Her eyes strained to penetrate the shadows. Although she saw nothing, she knew there was some presence hovering here. Waiting for
her
.

Waves of deep pain beat at her, pain and a gnawing hunger. Not for food.

Shuddering, she took a quick step back, ready to turn and flee. But before she could escape, the air around her rippled, as though a portal had opened in front of her.

A portal to her world?

Impossible.

Portals didn’t just spring up at random times and places. And as far as she knew, nobody here could open one. A group of trained adepts from her world had to cut a slice in the membrane that separated one world from the other. At least that was the way she had pictured it. Cutting with a sharpened psychic talent instead of a knife. And it took the energy of more than one person to do it.

When the air stopped shimmering, she breathed out a littlesigh. The sigh turned into a scream when a man’s strong arms grabbed her from behind. But the scream was cut off by a large hand clamping over her mouth.

CHAPTER TWO

Quinn gasped and
tried to twist away from the man who held her. She knew it was a man, because she could feel a masculine body pressed to her back—and feel his arm across her middle, just below her breasts.

Unable to break free, she kicked backward, trying to inflict some damage. But she couldn’t make contact with his legs.

Although he held her in place like a giant restraining a troublesome child, when she looked down, she saw nothing.

And that was more terrifying than catching a view of a powerful opponent. As the horror of her plight slammed home, her heart skipped a beat and started up again in double-time.

She had called him a man. But she couldn’t see him. Not because he was hidden. There was
nothing
to see. Yet she felt the substance of his energy body and knew that his grasp was stronger than that of any mortal.

He wasn’t human. Couldn’t be human. And a feeling of desperation made her redouble her efforts to get away. Arms and legs pumping, she jabbed and kicked at the air, even though she knew that to best a demon or ghost or whatever this supernatural being was, she needed cunning, not physicalforce.

As her strength ebbed, she wondered how she had gotten caught by this creature. Truly, she hadn’t expected anything like this in Logan’s universe.

Fighting the impulse to keep struggling, she forced her shoulders, arms, and legs to relax. And when she did, she thought she heard a ghostly sigh.

“Turn me loose,” she said softly, a plea not a demand. Maybe that would work.

“Not yet.”

Because she hadn’t expected an answer, hearing any words at all gave her as much of a shock as her captivity.

His voice was deep and resonant and just a little rusty, like a man who hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Who are you?”

“I will not hurt you,” he answered softly.

“Turn me loose,” she repeated.

“You’ll run.”

He had that right. But she wasn’t going to agree—not out loud.

With nothing to lose by trying to gain his confidence, she closed her eyes and leaned back against him.

“What do you want from me?” she said, hearing the strained quality of her own voice.

“I want . . . company.”

“Why?”

“I have been here a long time.”

The way he said it had her fighting empathy, yet she answered, “Other people must have come through these woods.”

“Yes. But they cannot feel me or hear me the way you do.”

What luck!
Her psychic talents had gotten her into this trap.

Was her captor a ghost? Or a demon? Or something else? She wanted to know, but she was afraid to find out.

While she was silently debating her options, she felt him stir, felt his hold on her change subtly.

One arm moved upward to press against her breast. While she was reacting to that, she felt the fingers of his other hand stroking her cheeks, then her jawline in a pattern that could have been soothing—or sensual.

Then the feel of his fingers on her skin was replaced by his lips. His invisible body hunched as he slid his mouth gently along the line where her hair met her face. And he sighed as he found the curve of her cheekbone.

“Your skin is so soft. Like silk.”

His voice had turned almost dreamy. Was this her chance to pull away?

She shouldn’t let this opportunity go—when his guard was down. If it was down.

But her resolve faded as she caught the woodsy scent of him and felt his lips travel to her neck. Her earlier fear was replaced by a buzzing in her brain . . . and a tingling along her nerve endings.

“Don’t,” she managed.

“Why not?” he asked, his mouth moving against her neck, then sliding lower, to her collarbone. His lips were warm on her skin, his breath exciting little tingles of sensation.

His breath? Warm? How could that be possible?

The question drifted through her mind and right out again. He was standing behind her, so that his mouth couldn’t reach hers, even when she arched her neck and threw her head back.

“You’re beautiful. I love your hair.” He ran his fingers through the locks she had grown out recently. “Your little nose. And your sensual lips.” As he spoke, he touched each feature he mentioned.

He still seemed to be behind her. Could he really see her face? Or was he talking about the view of her when she’d first walked into the clearing?

A thought struck her, and she stiffened.

“What?” he murmured.

“Were you watching me undress?”

“You gave me a wonderful view of your body. But not all at once. First your breasts. Then that sweet dark triangle at the top of your legs.”

She felt her face heat.

“I was too far away to touch you.”

“But not too far away to make those rocks block the path!” she accused.

He chuckled, his voice rich and deep. “That wasn’t easy. But I did it.”

“Why?”

“Each time you came from . . . the other place, I tried to get you to notice me. But you were too far away to hear my voice—or feel my touch.”

The finger at her lips stroked back and forth. “Open for me.”

She struggled to resist. But somehow he had bent her to his will. After a few moments, she did as he asked, and his finger slipped inside her mouth, tenderly playing with her inner lips and, sliding along the line of her teeth, arousing currents of sensuality that pulsed through her.

In some corner of her mind, she was shocked at what she was doing—allowing herself to respond to him on such a basiclevel.

Yet she had stopped fearing him. He was no devil. Or if he was, he knew how to give a woman pleasure. Was he an incubus, trapped here in this patch of woods? That would explainthe effect he was having on her.

Or was she simply so starved for a relationship with a man that she welcomed the attentions of a phantom?

She tried to stiffen her resolve. Even if she was needy, she shouldn’t allow him this access to her body. Yet what choice did she have? He was stronger than she was. And he wanted this contact.

She dragged in a breath, her legs turning shaky so that she swayed as though she were fighting a strong wind blowingthrough the forest.

He pulled her more firmly against his invisible body, and she knew that he was aroused. At least she felt what seemed like an erection wedged against the top of her ass.

Rationalizations tumbled through her mind. He had her under his control. This was not her fault. She was helpless to keep him from doing whatever he wanted.

Even if he had once been a man, he was more than that now. More powerful. More commanding. Sexier.

Maybe he sensed her response to his power, because he increased the intimacy of the contact, his hands sliding to her breasts, weighing them in his hands, pressing and kneading,his fingers circling around her hardened nipples but not touching them.

“Please.” She wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to go on—or stop.

No, that was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted him to do.

And so did he. His fingers tightened the circles barely brushing the sides of her raised nipples, wringing a cry from her. In some corner of her brain, she realized he didn’t have to slip his hand under her bra the way a mortal man would have. His knowing touch was simply there, his fingers circlingthen plucking at her with the practiced skill of a man who knew how to arouse a woman.

She felt the blood rushing hotly through her veins, felt her breath sawing in and out of her lungs as physical sensationsspiraled out of control.

“You like that.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. He understood very well what he was doing to her.

With the arrogance of a conquering male, he slid one large hand down her body, cradling her thigh and then glidinginward toward her sex. As her response leaped to meet his touch, a measure of sanity returned to her mushy brain.

If this kept up, he was going to make her come—and maybe he was doing it to give himself more power over her mind and her body.

As he’d aroused her, her fear of him had receded. Now it surged up again. And in that moment of terror, she summonedthe strength to wrench herself away. Or maybe he had let his guard down.

Freedom was a shock. She hadn’t expected to escape, so she lost her footing and tumbled forward, landing in a pile of leaves a few feet from where she had been standing.

She tensed, waiting for him to come down on top of her. He chose not to. And she breathed out a grateful sigh.

As the night air cooled her heated flesh, she sat up and looked around, trying to find him.

“Damn.” It was a mild curse, yet it carried a wealth of emotion.

She zeroed in on the place from where the voice had emanated.“Stay away from me.”

“I won’t force myself on you.”

You already did,
she thought. Well, at the beginning. Then she’d been a willing participant.

The light was starting to go, but she still focused on the place where it sounded like he was standing. Could she see something? A flickering in the air? Like when she’d first sensed him?

In her world, children with psychic talents went to special schools. And in one of her classes, the teacher had taught a series of lessons on ghosts. Not just in theory. The instructor had summoned several apparitions. She remembered how they had looked. A few had taken human form. Most were not substantial at all, just a disturbance or a ripple in the air. Of course, for the safety of the students, they had been benignghosts. Although few of the children could communicatewith them, Quinn had been able to talk with some. But that was years ago, and she hadn’t done it again, until now.

“What are you thinking?” the phantom asked.

“If you were me, wouldn’t you think this was a strange situation?”

“Yes. It is for me, too. But I won’t hurt you.”

“Why?”

“I have my honor.” He made a derisive sound. “Honor! That’s how I ended up dead.”

“So you
are
a ghost.” she said, glad of the confirmation.