High Energy (12 page)

himself, he displayed a compellingly suave voice that would have been at home on

any pulpit. He was exactly what she had expected.

"Now that's more like it," she whispered to Tyber. "I can't believe that when I

first entered your classroom I actually thought you were a guru. It's really

sort of silly now that I think of it."

"Really. Would you like to see how fast I can mesmerize you?" He poked one of

her polka-dots.

"Very funny. Shh—let's hear what he has to say like good little sycophants."

Xavier LaLeche faced his audience with a serene yet compelling demeanor. "Good

evening and welcome to the Healing Heart Seminar. It gladdens my spirit to see

so many new souls reaching for a higher attunement." He paused dramatically. "I

hope tonight that each and every one of you, if only for a moment, will

experience a finer perception, a lifting, if you will, of your consciousness, an

embracing of your higher self, and you'll allow the miracle of healing into your

being." A hearty round of applause followed.

Zanita leaned into Tyber. "What did he just say?"

He patted her knee. "Nothing to be concerned about, dear."

LaLeche continued, "In order to understand about healing we must first

understand about energy."

Tyber leaned forward in his seat. Here was a subject he was an expert on.

"Ancient esoteric knowledge holds that the body is contained in a field of

energy. But how is it contained?"

Tyber started to raise his hand, thought better of it, and lowered it.

"The energy in our bodies is, shall we say, controlled by our consciousness.

Indeed, our very life force is an emanating energy coming from each and every

one of our cells. That is why we are all so very different from one another."

"Huh?" Zanita scratched her head.

"Even Chinese philosophy subscribes to the belief in an energy system,

preferring to think of it as an actual electric current which runs throughout

the body. You may have heard of this in connection with the technique known as

acupuncture. The Sanskrits believe in centers of energy within the body. They

call these centers of energy chakras."

"I don't believe this." Tyber spoke low in her ear. "He's taking bits and pieces

from different respected traditions, then he's tossing them together to form"—he

pointed to the handout they had been given at the door—"the LaLeche Method,'" he

mouthed, causing her to giggle.

"Energy vibrations!" LaLeche's voice boomed throughout the room. "All living

things have energy vibrations. All living things vibrate with their own special

frequency. All living things vibrate at their own levels."

"It's called a discrete frequency, but he got it completely skewed. This is what

I mean about knowing your physics, Zanita. If the man had more background

knowledge on the principles of—" A man behind them shushed Tyber.

LaLeche was on a roll now. "Our bodies are always vibrating!"

"I know mine is," Tyber drawled in her ear. Zanita elbowed him in the side.

"… Our bodies are also instruments through which we experience spiritual as well

as sexual ecstasy…"

"Ah, now we're getting to the good part." Tyber winked.

"… sexual and spiritual ecstasy are both experienced through the chakras,

specifically, the same chakra. This is why we so often mistake spiritual

awakening with sexual arousal…"

"I can't say that's ever happened to me. How 'bout you, Curls?"

"Shh!"

"When I'm aroused, I'm definitely sure it's sexual in origin." He tickled her

arm.

"Sexual energy is focused; it seeks a release through intense activity…"

"Is it getting hot in here to you?"

"Tyber!"

He grinned.

"… whereas spiritual energy flows. It is everywhere, through you and me, rocks,

trees, the stars—the body craves ecstasy…"

"Can't argue with that."

"Tyber, quit it! You're making me laugh."

"Allow me to demonstrate. I'll need a volunteer." Several hands went up in the

audience. "You there"—he pointed in their direction—"the one with the polka-dot

shirt."

"Me?" Zanita squeaked.

"Yes, you. Come on up! I want to demonstrate the difference between spiritual

and sexual ecstasy."

Tyber immediately stood up. "Now just a minute—"

"I assure you, sir, it's perfectly safe ecstasy." He gave Tyber a smarmy smile.

The audience laughed at the double entendre.

"It's okay, Tyber." Zanita stood next to him. "Don't worry, he's not going to do

anything too weird on the stage. Try and remember, we're supposed to like this

guy."

Tyber wasn't convinced. He clasped her shoulders. "I don't know if I want you

going up there. Who knows what he might do? I don't want him putting his hands

on you."

"Will you listen to yourself!" She leaned into his chest, speaking quietly. "You

sound like a… you know."

He looked perplexed. "A uno?"

"A boyfriend!" she gritted out.

Tyber dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Oh. Sorry." Zanita turned, walking

jauntily up to the stage. Regardless of what I sound like, if he puts his hands

on you, baby, he's dead meat.

"Hi, there." LaLeche held out his hand to her. "What's your name?"

"Zanita."

"Pretty name for a pretty lady. Tell me, Zanita, do you meditate often?"

"Um… every month."

Tyber winced at her response, but LaLeche seemed very understanding. Too

understanding to Tyber's way of thinking.

"I know; sometimes it's hard to find the time in our busy days for the really

important things. Now Zanita—have a seat—I want you to close your eyes and think

of a white light. Do you see it?"

"Yes."

"It surrounds you. Embrace the white light."

"I thought you weren't supposed to do that."

"Whyever not, my dear?"

"In that movie, Poltergeist, they kept saying, 'Stay away from the light, Carol

Ann. Stay away from the light.' " The audience laughed, thinking she was joking.

LaLeche was caught off guard for a minute.

Tyber, recognizing the Zanita touch, smirked. Just wait, buddy, it's only the

beginning.

"Yes, well, that was Hollywood and this is reality. You can trust me; let the

light surround you."

"Okay; I'm surrounded."

"Er… good. Now I want you to meditate on scenes involving outer and inner self.

When you breathe in, say inside; when you breathe out, say outside. This will

help you to focus, to image."

"Okay. Inside. Outside…" Zanita performed the exercise, her breathing getting

deeper, her voice breathy. "… inside… outside…"

Tyber looked around the audience, particularly at the male members, noticing

that some of them were beginning to sweat. He crossed his arms and stared at the

stage, watching LaLeche like a hawk.

"You see, sometimes an attunement can be as erotic as an actual sexual

experience."

"Inside… outside…"

LaLeche put his hand on her shoulder. "That's fine, my dear. You can go back to

your seat now."

When she reached Tyber's side, he noted that several men were watching her with

speculative looks in their eyes. The pirate captain in him impaled them one by

one with an appropriately icy glare. Their attentions skittered away like bilge

rats.

"That was pretty impressive." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Fine piece

of acting up there, Curls."

"Who was acting?" She fanned herself. "I feel like a cat on a hot tin roof!"

He grinned. "You wanna go outside? Pick-up's got an eight-foot bed."

"Cut it out. Next time you're the guinea pig. So what do you think so far?

Genuine or not?"

"Not."

"Because you don't think there's anything to this healing stuff?"

"No, actually I think there might be something to psychic healing. But not this

guy."

"Why?"

"He's too slimy."

Chapter Six

« ^ »

"The audience seemed pretty impressed with him."

"He has an impressive stage presence; but then, most charlatans do."

They were once again in Big Red, making the long drive back to Tyber's house.

Unfortunately, it was through dark back-country roads.

"I'm glad you're driving; I'm beat." Zanita yawned.

"Long day."

"Long night." She yawned again.

"If you noticed—his topics were very general in this seminar. On the handout

they gave us, it says he'll be appearing next Friday at the South Town meeting

center. Much smaller room. I have the feeling that performance won't be

advertised."

"How come?"

"I think he filters through his audience until he gets the group he's looking

for. On Friday, you'll see another gleaning."

"Looking for the most devoted?"

"That; and the most malleable."

"How'd you get to be so smart?" She playfully pulled a hank of his hair.

"I ate my vegetables when I was a little boy."

She peered disbelievingly at him in the dark confines of the truck's cab. "You

were once a little boy?"

"Well, not really."

"I didn't think so."

"After he separates the next group out, you'll probably see something like an

'invitation only' demonstration."

"Think we'll make the break?"

"Yup."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Two reasons: first, he liked you." He threw her a slightly disgruntled look. "A

lot."

"How do you know that?"

Tyber sighed deeply. "I know."

"What, is this like a man thing?" Zanita folded her arms across her chest, put

out by the ridiculous assertion.

"Yes. Believe me; he liked you."

"Uh-huh. What's the second reason?"

"He recognized me."

Zanita sat forward in her seat. "How can you be sure?"

"I had my suspicions when his glance strayed my way once too often; I knew it

for sure the instant he chose you from the audience."

She exhaled. "Does this blow our cover?"

"Not completely. He has no reason to be suspicious of you; as far as he's

concerned you were just with me. He's probably as curious as hell as to why I

was there."

"What are we going to say?"

"At the next meeting, when he contrives to meet with us, I'll tell him the

truth—that I'm very interested in all aspects of psychic healing."

"What makes you think that will be enough to get an invitation to these inner

circle meetings?"

"He won't be able to resist the bait. My name in any connection with his would

instantly give him mainstream credibility. He will do everything in his power to

lure me."

"God, you make him sound like a vampire or something."

"He is. But instead of blood, he sucks the hope, the money, and the spirit out

of people who believe in him. People go to him with a pure desire to enhance

their spirit; instead, he drains it away. I want to nail him, Zanita."

She knew how Tyber felt; she had felt the same way when she found out about Mrs.

Haverhill. She put her hand on his shoulder. "We will."

"Are you cold, baby? Should I put the heat on?"

"A little." She yawned again, stretching her now bare feet to the heater under

the dash. "Mmmm, that feels good."

"Only another ninety minutes to go; we should be home about one-thirty. I wonder

what kind of sandwiches Blooey left us. I'm hungry now—how about you?"

Somehow he wasn't surprised when he received no response. Zanita had, of course,

already fallen asleep.

Blooey had left the porch light on for them.

Tyber made his way around the truck to Zanita's side, gently lifting her out of

the cab.

"Mgphm…"

"Shh. It's okay." Tyber carried her up the stairs onto the porch.

When he inserted his key into the lock, she sleepily asked, "What is it? The

Hogs?"

What was this with the hogs? "No, baby, go back to sleep."

He grabbed a sandwich off the kitchen table with one hand, holding Zanita with

the other. He devoured it as he climbed the stairs with her. Once in his

bedroom, he quickly undressed them both, put her into bed, put himself into bed,

took her in his arms… and immediately fell asleep.

He was already inside her when he woke up.

He didn't remember how it had happened, but he had a pretty good idea. Zanita

had done something to him from the minute he laid eyes on her. He knew it; and

his subconscious knew it, too. How would she react? He decided to tip the scales

in his favor.

Zanita's eyelids were just fluttering open in confusion as Tyber lowered his

head, joining their mouths as well.

"Good morning." His eyes sparkled slumberously down on hers as he readjusted his

fit in her.

"Tyber…" Her violet eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep and rising passion; he

thought her wildly sexy.

He lifted her hand from where it was resting on the bed, ardently pressing

scorching lips to her palm before swirling his tongue across the sensitive

center.

Zanita's breath caught.

His thumb and forefinger held her wrist up for the downward play of his open

mouth across her inner arm. Slowly, he traversed the arm, caressing with velvet

lips that gently blew across the moistened skin.

It was devoutly erotic.

And all this time, he remained embedded in her to the hilt.

Strange, but it seemed to him as though time had somehow slowed down just for