Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (27 page)

“How long have I been out?” I sat up and scooted back to lean against the blue-stone wall, noting with relief that I was in Cynthia’s clothing and that no one had felt the need to put me in something else.

“About five hours. Ryder’s been with you the entire time. He only left the room a few minutes ago because Nick told him the high court needed to speak with him immediately.”

Poor Ryder, so used to being in control. My heart warmed. It was probably his worst nightmare to lose the ability to handle a situation where danger was afoot. More somberly, I figured this was particularly true, knowing what I knew about his sister. His sister. I couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to lose a sister. Did you ever get over that? My mother was still alive, yet I still mourned her.

I didn’t quite understand why any of them were worried, though. So what? I was asleep. What was the big deal?

I felt him before I saw him. Ryder. My dark, mysterious knight. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his body tense, his energy thrumming. There was a wild look to his pale eyes. They roamed my face searchingly, almost desperately, like he was assuring himself that I was okay. I barely noticed when Cynthia left the room, muttering about getting food put together. I wasn’t paying her any attention. I just wanted to look at his face, memorize the lines of care and concern.

This was addicting. This was dangerous. Tenderness warmed my heart, but with that came my warning voice.

I wanted him, but he had the power to hurt me.

I’d never wanted anyone before, but he was making me care.

Was I ready for this? I didn’t seem to have a choice. I was enthralled by his intense, pale green gaze. It refused to let me look away.

But then he ruined the whole damn thing.

I could almost see the fear become replaced by anger. His voice shook as he growled, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” My mind was in such a different place, it took a moment for me to catch up.

“What the hell were you thinking, to put yourself in danger? You took on a Brausiian warrior, Taylor!” He stalked the length of the room toward me, his body throwing off suddenly fierce energy.

“You’re mad because I stopped terrorists from bombing your marketplace?” Incredible. He was going to be mad about that? I glared at him, feeling my anger begin to simmer. What was wrong with him? He made no sense.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You know why I’m mad.”

He did that thing where he braced his hands loosely on his hips. It was such a guy pose, and really sexy, like calendar sexy. Even with his mad look on, where his eyes were, like, blazing at me, I was momentarily disarmed. It stalled the flow of irritation that I was ready to unleash on him because I was suddenly focused on his lips. They were great lips. Really kissable lips. All right. I had to admit it. I was E.Z.

I sighed. “You’re being irrational.” That was apparently a bad thing to say to an angry guy.

“I’m irrational?” His look was one of disbelief.

“Yes, you are. I’m sitting here perfectly fine and no one died, but you’re stomping around here, huffing and puffing—”

“Huffing and—”

“Puffing. Yes, that’s what I said.”

“You don’t get it!” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair in agitation.

“No, I don’t.” It dawned on me that I didn’t want to argue with him. There wasn’t anything to argue about. Normally I would have been all, “Screw you, pal, and the horse you rode in on,” but I just wasn’t feeling it. More than that, I was confused. What was he really mad about? That was the part I was missing.

“Dammit! Was it rational to attack a man almost three times your size when you didn’t have a weapon or any training? I saw the guy, Taylor. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I have some training,” I protested, but more as a muttered aside, because I was still trying to figure out what was setting him off. Again, that seemed the wrong thing to say, because his exasperation became almost tangible.

“Your gym class with Rico isn’t training. The heavy bag doesn’t hit back.”

“I tagged you out, didn’t I?”

“Only because I didn’t want to hurt you! You’re a menace to yourself,” he bit out. “Here comes danger, and there you go running for it!”

He was mad because I hadn’t been cautious? His concern was me? My personal safety? That was the missing link. He was...maybe...starting to care for me? And just maybe, it had freaked him out to imagine the worst that could have happened, and maybe he just needed time to calm down and everything would be all right.

Was there really anything worth getting mad about? Could I be mad that he’d worried about me? No. I decided to try something new. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my legs up and sat cross-legged. Maybe we could just...talk.

“Ryder, will you please come here? Sit with me?”

He glared at me warily a moment, and I wondered if he was going to ignore my request. Then he closed the gap between us with one step and sat ultraclose, facing me on the bed. There were mere inches separating us. His voice quieted. “He had a knife on you, Taylor. He was going to fucking kill you.”

“But I’m okay.”

“You were supposed to let Cynthia alert security. They would have been there in seconds to handle the situation.”

“It’s over now.”

“You don’t understand. I had to watch you lie there, unmoving, for five hours. I didn’t know if you were sick or hurt. No one could tell me why you were catatonic. I kept checking to make sure you were still fucking...breathing. There wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. It was like you were...” He bit off his words, looking off to the side as emotion seemed to close his throat. I saw it working as he tried to swallow.

Emboldened by the knowledge that he’d been so worried about me, I reached up a hand to cup his whiskery jaw, compelled to touch him, soothe him. His eyes met mine with fierce emotion, remnants of anxiety keeping his muscles revved. Leaning forward, I pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth and looked up at him. His breathing slowed. I kissed the other side of his mouth. His pale, green eyes burned brightly, and he turned his sinful lips to my palm, pressing a kiss into it, which sent lovely tingles up through my nerve endings.

“What is it?” I whispered, still puzzled as to why he was so anxious. Not even Cynthia had been all that concerned. “I don’t understand. I’m not hurt. Everything is fine.”

In a quietly gruff voice, he said, “You were out for five hours. Not moving. It was like you were—” he paused a moment to take a steadying breath, scowling, “—dead. I couldn’t reach you. I tried to find you in sleep, but you were just...gone. I couldn’t feel your energy anywhere. I couldn’t find you.” He looked briefly tortured, and my hand slid down to stroke his chest soothingly, wanting to take away that look from his face.

“You were trying to find me?”

“I needed to know you were okay.”

He released a breath of air, like he was letting go of some of his tension. Then his arms snaked around me fiercely, pulling me tightly into the warmth of his body. His hands ran up and down my spine in a way that seemed more to soothe his peace of mind than anything, which was all I’d really wanted all along. My body sighed into his as he shoved his face into my neck and took a deep breath. It was like he was grabbing a lungful of me. There had never been a time when I’d affected someone in this way. I liked it.

“I’m okay.” I stroked his back, tracing fingers along the muscles in his shoulders. It was so hard to believe that this was the same man who’d so coldly told me he was going to take me to high court for torture earlier. Frowning, I felt some of my pleasure dim.

Yes, he was that same guy.

But then he distracted me, and I forgot my line of thought.

He nuzzled my neck, rubbing his whiskers gently over the soft skin there. Oh... The rough, prickly hair along his jaw set off little nerve-ending explosions that made my blood thicken and my breath catch. “Ryder,” I whispered.

“What are you doing to me?” he said roughly. “You make me...fear.” His lips took lingering, sensual kisses from my neck, the act making me feel weak and languorous. I couldn’t stop the soft sigh from escaping my lips. Butterfly wings set to flight in my stomach, and heat spread gently like warm molasses.

“I don’t know, but it’s happening to me too,” I admitted in a hushed tone.

His lips dragged up my neck, prickly whiskers marking the way with burning tingles of sensation. Our eyes connected for the space of a breath, a heartbeat, green into blue, smoldering. I could feel my energy reaching out to his, intertwining, and I was drawn helplessly into the delicious abyss of need.

“Ryder, please,” I murmured, not sure what I was asking for specifically.

“I love hearing you say my name.” His deep voice turned husky. It vibrated on the air between us.

Caught in his spell, I could only watch his lips descend to mine with tingling anticipation. I needed to feel them on me. I’d been thinking about them, remembering them, wanting them. They paused a hairbreadth from touching, teasing me with a promise, but I didn’t have to wait long.

His lips took mine, and the heat sparked a breathy cry from my soul. It was so hot. I was on fire. Ryder swept my mouth with his tongue, slanting his lips roughly, taking possession like a master, owning me, and the fire burned out of control. I was burning up. My womb spasmed, and I moaned with the wonderful, primal feel of it. I didn’t want it to go away.

I wanted more. He’d teased me last night with a deep, hot kiss, but today, I would take.

Feeling bold, I got up on my knees and fisted my hands in his hair, to hold him where I needed him. My tongue lightly lapped at his lower lip in warning, loving the hot feel of him, before pushing inside, tangling with the heat of him. He groaned deep, which was a totally sexy sound that got me freaking wet. His hands ran down my spine and found their way under my shirt, sliding up my sides, branding my skin with his touch.

A knock sounded just outside the room. I pulled away abruptly, my eyes clouded with desire, my lips swollen and heated from his kisses. I was back to shallow breathing. Ryder tightened his grip on my waist to keep me from pulling away any farther.

“What is it?” Ryder snapped over his shoulder, but he still looked down at me hungrily.

“High council needs you. They won’t be put off any longer,” Nick said firmly, not the least bit intimidated, though he remained respectfully out of sight.

Cursing sharply under his breath, Ryder replied, “I’ll be right there.”

I did have at least one sane voice left in my head that was telling me this interruption was a good thing. Taking time to think and consider what was happening was smart. My sex kitten hissed at my sane person, and I had to ignore both voices and just breathe.

Ryder looked up at the ceiling with exasperation, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as though he needed to get a grip. He exhaled and ran his hands over my arms, gently.

“You will be the death of me,” he murmured gravely, looking down at me again.

“Me?” I gave a wide-eyed look of innocence.

“I have some comfortable clothes you can sleep in. They’ll be big for you.” He gave me an unexpected, crooked smile that snuck in under my guard. It was so rare to see him smile. My heart warmed, and my lips curled, mirroring him.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. I still wanted to understand his behavior from earlier, get some feel for how he could go from one end of the spectrum to the other in so short a time, from enemy to love interest, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

Maybe when we were alone again we could talk.

I was likely going to get hurt in this, but there seemed to be a momentum building between us that was way beyond my control. Maybe the universe had a plan here, because I didn’t. There was nothing usual about this situation in the least, and all I could do was have faith that I could manipulate whatever hand of cards I was dealt. I’ve always been a survivor.

In for a penny...

Chapter Twelve

I’d expected to feel sore after everything I’d been through the last few days—much less the last few hours—but as I got out of bed, I felt surprisingly good. Restored. Plucky, even.

“Call out if you need anything,” Ryder had stated, leaving reluctantly. I’d gotten an eyeful of his lean hips and gorgeous backside as he walked out, and I’d felt like giving off a bawdy whistle. My world was feeling A-OK once again.

The sex kitten in me mocked me.
See what a hot guy can do for you?

Shut up
, I replied, then smirked because I was actually telling myself to shut up.

Besides, he wasn’t just any old hot guy, he was Ryder. I’d been around other good-looking guys before. I mean, c’mon, I worked in Hollywood. But they’d never put me in such a strangely confused, overly emotional, unreasonably lustful state of mind before.

My summation made me smile. I guess I was feeling better.

The floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the forest below. Sunlight slanted at an extremely low angle across the sky, letting me know it was early evening, evidence that I’d truly slept a chunk of the day away.

This time, seeing the green canopy of massive trees didn’t frighten me. Seems I was getting used to being there. If I stretched my imagination, I could even imagine being in a tropical place, maybe on vacation with Ryder in a rain forest back on Earth, just the two of us trying to get to know each other better.

That was a pretty far stretch, though. Curiosity got the best of me. Taking a moment to wander was too hard to resist. A big soft bed dominated the center of the room, with quilted covers making it ultrafluffy. I would kill to have a bed like that at home. It would be dangerous, of course, because I’d never want to get out of it. All I’d need would be a TV and someone to bring me food.

Like the rest of the dwelling, the walls and floor were the same vibrant blue polished stone. It was calming. I liked it. Various floating shelves were nailed into the walls, holding books and knickknacks, and there was a large, floor-to-ceiling bookshelf built into a chiseled-out wall nook in front of Ryder’s bed. Man, this guy really liked books. I found myself running fingers along the spines of the books, most of which were in foreign languages. I recognized ones in English and saw that others were in Spanish and French.

How many languages did he speak? And not just speak, I realized, but also read and—I assumed—write in? He must have had to study for hours and hours. How unexpected. I guessed I could see him turning all that intense focus on his studies. For all his hot maleness, he was a pretty serious guy, not a party guy. He wouldn’t have been the beer-bong-drinking, fraternity-pledge kind of guy on Earth.

One of the books that I did recognize, which totally stuck out because it was so different from the others in content and appearance, was a softcover edition of Jane Austen’s
Pride and Prejudice.
Wasn’t that interesting?

Gently, I pulled the book free. It seemed an old copy. The pages were yellowed and slightly brittle. It was comforting to see something concrete that was from Earth. I couldn’t help carefully opening the book, which made something fall out of the pages and flutter to the floor. When I picked it up, I saw it was a palm-size picture of a beautiful young girl with dark hair, green eyes and an infectious smile.

Written on the inside front cover of the book was the name Asily Rose Langston. Wasn’t Langston his last name? A cold chill skated my spine when I figured this was likely a picture of his sister, the one who’d died, whom he was memorializing in one of her books. The book took on a sense of reverence. I could imagine a girl enjoying the beautiful romantic tale and maybe doing a little daydreaming of her own future Mr. Darcy. It made me ache to think of that girl gone in so harsh and painful a way.

Tears pricked my eyes.

After taking an extra moment to look at her picture, imagining the fear and pain she must have gone through in her death, I put the photograph back in the pages and replaced the book without damaging it.

The picture was a harsh reminder that this was no vacation. Asily Rose Langston had died. According to Cynthia, she’d been raped and killed in this life-and-death struggle between peoples. Today, again, I’d almost gotten killed. Gutted. As much as I thought I had nothing to do with what was going on here, somehow I seemed to have found myself in the middle of it all. And not only that, there was a feeling of rightness in it. I was serving my purpose.

Wait. Where had that thought come from?

Serving my purpose.

My memory felt as if a xylophone had pinged a true note, struck a nerve connected to a forgotten file of information. It wasn’t a new thought. It rolled off my brain so easily. The feeling that there was knowledge sitting just out of reach on the edges of my memory taunted me, and the more I tried to reach for it, the more it slipped away. Damn, but I was tired of feeling frustrated.

Not in the mood for analysis anymore, I shook it off.

Time to dress. No more poking around. Ryder was probably wondering what happened to me, at this point, and I was wondering how things were going to be different between the two of us, or if I even wanted them to be. Being objective was hard at the moment.

The clothing Ryder had found for me was, of course, extremely large. He’d provided me with a T-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants. The sweatpants only stayed up because I cranked down on the drawstring, tightening the waist before tying a feminine bow. The T-shirt was thin and ultrasoft. It smelled like him, and I know that, because I engaged in the purely girly activity of burying my face in it and taking a deep breath. I loved the way he smelled.

When I put the shirt on, it was a bit like a dress, so I loosely tied the bottom in a knot at my waist. It exposed some of my midriff, and I wondered if Ryder would find me sexy like this.

But if he did, what then? I felt an attack of nerves coming on at the thought. Flashbacks of embarrassing groping and disappointing conclusions popped up from experiences with my college boyfriend, and I had to wonder if I was just not sexual, which didn’t feel right because all I had to do was picture Ryder to get all hot and bothered. Hmm. Confusing.

My inner sex kitten batted her lashes and told me not to think about it so much, and given that I didn’t know how to think about all the sudden changes in my life, I decided to relax and see what happened. No way was I going to figure it all out now. I had to admit to feeling excited, though.

I wasn’t sure what the three-ring circus would have in store for me when I walked into the main rec room again, but I didn’t have long to wait. As I came down the hall, I heard a whispered, angry conversation between Nick and Cynthia in progress. It halted as soon as I made some loud, obvious noises, which consisted of me doing a bit of throat-clearing and scuffling my feet, coming down the hallway.

There was dead silence by the time I rounded the corner.

“You’re up!” Cynthia was the first to recover, and she plastered a cheerful look to her face. She swooped over, giving me a big hug, and started talking really quickly. “I knew you’d be okay. You’re too tough to stay down long. The medical team couldn’t find anything wrong with you, and of course I told them all that you have been under a whole lot of stress these days. In any case, you’re the big hero! Saved the day!”

“Well, we both did.” I pulled away, wishing I could find out what was going on with her. Nick was suddenly busy on an electronic gadget that he’d pulled out of his pocket, a heavy, dark look weighing him down.

Cynthia rattled on. “Hey, I stored some food in the fridge, so you guys don’t have to think about dinner. I’d stay, but you know, I have to check in with my mom. She’ll flip out on me if she finds out I’ve been back on Te’re and didn’t check in. I’ll come back tomorrow, ’kay? We’ll hang out some more, but no more trips to the mall. I think we need a vacay after what happened today.” Cynthia backed off toward the archway across the room with an overly bright smile, using stylized language that she didn’t usually and clearly trying to make an escape.

I didn’t question it. “Okay,” I replied. Who was I to judge? When you needed to go, you needed to go. Nick wasn’t having it, though.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said firmly, putting his device in his pocket and clasping one of her elbows before she got too far away from him. I could see that her first reaction was going to be to yank herself away, but she didn’t want to make a scene. Her eyes became chips of ice.

“Well isn’t that nice of you,” she said coldly, and she walked out with him, which left a bit of a vacuum.

Alone and unsure of what I was supposed to do, I decided to look for Ryder. I took a quick walk across the rec room through the archway and saw the library with the stacks and stacks of books in bookshelves. He wasn’t there. The beautiful blanket still was. With a feeling of dismay at the careless way I’d left such a treasure, I quickly refolded it, and I felt that odd buzzing sensation again. Threads of energy began weaving into my skin and up through my arms.

I dropped the blanket back onto the couch like it burned, staring at it uneasily.

“I don’t even want to know,” I muttered to myself after a moment. There was enough newness I needed to accept without taking on more than I could handle. The feeling that there was yet something else significant, something else I couldn’t quite remember, attached to the blanket frustrated me, but I deliberately blew it off. Hadn’t I had enough drama for the day? I could always think about it later.

I wandered back to the archway of the main rec room to find Ryder had appeared and was setting out plates in the kitchen. He’d changed into a pair of sweatpants similar to my own, leaving his muscular chest bare. Without giving away my presence, I paused to stare in a purely primal, animalistic reaction. I was in awe of the beautiful male before me. He had that amazing V-shaped body where the muscles in his stomach, arms and shoulders stood out, calling to the female animal in me.

I
want him
, whispered my mind, and my body quickened, reminded of the unfinished business we’d begun in the bedroom.

A smattering of dark hair sprinkled his broad pecs. It trailed down his washboard stomach, disappearing beneath the drawstring of his pants, where an interesting bulge made me crave exploration. I could almost feel my eyes go vixenlike.

Sheesh. Who was I turning into?

He sent a worried look in the direction of the bedroom, bracing his hands on his hips for a moment with a look of impatience. I loved that stance. It was so him. Then he got back to what he was doing, his muscles flexing with ease and grace as he moved. Grabbing a plate of something out of a small fridge, he tightened his lips and glanced toward the bedroom again. Was he worried about me?

I cleared my throat and stepped out from the archway. Immediately, his green eyes flashed to me; there was a hint of surprise to his expression, since he wasn’t expecting me to appear on this side of the room.

The surprise in his eyes melted into a heavy-lidded look that lingered over my body. His nostrils flared, and he swallowed. I looked down and realized that not only was the neckline of the T-shirt low, weighted by the knot I’d tied at the bottom, but my nipples were peaked and perky, and my breasts were clearly outlined by the lovingly clingy material of the old T-shirt. I felt naked under his stare.

Heat swept my cheeks, though at the same time, my inner sex kitten purred, recognizing that he wanted me. This big, powerful man was having to check himself because he wanted to jump me. A flash of desire zeroed in at the top of my thighs, making them clench. A warm pulse point developed there.

Ryder cleared his throat and looked away a moment, as though trying to gain some control, before looking back at me. “Where were you?” he asked softly, which was a direct contradiction to the intensity of his eyes.

“Library. Looking for you,” I replied.

A faint, crooked smile eased over his features, and he continued the task he was working on. My response pleased him, and I realized I wanted to please him.

“Can I help with anything?”

“I’ve got this covered. I made a couple of sandwiches. Nothing you haven’t tasted before, I’m sure.”

“No brontosaurus burgers?” I smiled nervously to cover the heat that felt like it was radiating off me.

He smirked. “Right. No brontosaurus burgers. Turkey sandwich. Chips. Soda.”

“Sounds pretty normal.”

“Thought you could use normal after what you’ve been through the last few days.” He looked up and our eyes clicked again, held. The power of the connection was unnerving, for both of us I think, because gruffly, he said, “Have a seat.”

Exhaling quietly, I replied, “O-okay.”

Sexual tension hung in the air in a way I’d never experienced before. I was finding it hard to concentrate on what I was doing. Heck, I was finding it hard to breathe normally. My breasts felt heavy and full. My inner sex kitten was trying to assert herself, and I was fighting an internal battle of morality with her as he brought food to the square dining table and sat with me.

“Dig in.”

The sandwiches were delicious, but the silence was unnerving. On the outside, I tried to be calm, working through a few bites of food, but on the inside, my imagination was going wild. My body hummed with energy, wondering what was going to happen next. I pictured myself running my fingers over his chest, tracing the narrowing pattern of hair toward his waistband. The thought alone had me taking a deep breath to control my uneven breathing. Energy was building through my body, gradually heating the air around me. I could practically see my fingers trembling with the rush of blood in my system as I reached to grab my cup for a drink of water.

Was I actually ready to go there? Memories of the two times I’d tried to have sex with someone sprang forth. Feelings of awkwardness, and some pain, continued to haunt me. Of course, I hadn’t known what I was doing during those times, but then, I still didn’t, so there was a high likelihood that I was going to look foolish.