Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (9 page)

Cut it out
,
Taylor!
I gave myself a mental shake. But really, I couldn’t fault myself for feeling punch-drunk and vulnerable after such a long, emotional roller coaster of a day.

“Where are you going to sleep?” I asked, striving for casual, though I was beginning to feel nervous and fluttery.

He gave me a long, slow look with his green-gold eyes, a look that we held in silence. I think we were both remembering the passionate exchange from earlier, which created a whole new tension that I don’t think either one of us was ready to deal with.

“I’ll sleep on the floor in the second bedroom. Help yourself to a shirt if you need one,” he answered quietly. After another quiet moment, his lips firmed up into a tight line, and he briefly closed his eyes, like he needed to break our connection, and stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

I released a shaky breath.

Was this attraction normal? I didn’t even know the guy, but my body was doing its best to convince my brain it didn’t matter. Did that make me a slut? Who the hell was I becoming? It was like suddenly I didn’t recognize myself. In the last several years, I might have thought someone was attractive, but I didn’t get tingles just thinking about them. How could I be feeling all hot and bothered with this guy in the face of having had such a tragic day? Then again, at three in the morning, did anything have to make sense?

Absently, I wandered to the closet, trying to find my equilibrium again, and let my fingers feather along a few of Ryder’s T-shirts, thinking it strange that he had so little clothing, even for a guy. Grabbing one off the top, I shook it out. It said Señor Frog across the top and had a beer-drinking green critter grinning broadly on the front. It seemed that every guy owned this shirt in Southern California.

Though my usual preference would have been to sleep naked, I was feeling profoundly out of my comfort zone and out of control in general, what with everything that had happened in the last few days. I needed some form of protection. Not that a T-shirt would repel bullets or anything, but it did give me some measure of ease. I hated feeling vulnerable.

The sheets were cool and refreshing, with just a hint of his masculine scent still clinging to them. Shoving my face in the pillow didn’t help me capture any more of his essence, yet somehow it seemed I could sense him in the next room over, nothing specific or anything. His thoughts felt heavy and frustrated, which made my lips curl with a random thought.

Did guys really get achy balls?

Though it was probably fanciful and a trick of my imagination, covered in his shirt and with his sheets wrapped around me, I felt like I was surrounded by him. I felt safe.

With his sinewy, rugged image in mind, I dropped into sleep quickly and easily.

Chapter Five

I jogged through the forest feeling light, exhilarated, carefree and energized, like I could just keep going forever. The wind was cool, crisp and sweet smelling against my face, and I could hear the sounds of birds chirping and bugs buzzing about their business. It also seemed like I could take these superbig steps that carried me far quickly, which was fun to experiment with. One leap easily took me five feet and another took me twice that, making me laugh with my foolishness. Clear blue sky framed tall redwood trees, and dappled sunlight warmed my skin. Then there was that iridescent bloom that caught my eye. Hadn’t I seen one before? I couldn’t remember. The flower was lying innocently, pristinely, in the middle of the path, I paused to pick it up, already knowing it was going to be soft to the touch.

Energy hummed through the petals, giving off a feeling of warmth and comfort. A heavenly smell drifted teasingly toward my nose, and I couldn’t help but put my face to the bloom and inhale. A sudden image of a field full of these blooms flashed through my mind, a warm smile, soft blue eyes.
Yesssss
... whispered gently through my mind, and there was a feeling like a puzzle piece suddenly falling into place. A foreign feeling—contentment—touched me.

We all serve a purpose
,
Taylor.
The words seemed to float on the wind, here and gone, but they left behind a warmth and security I could embrace. I had a purpose.

How lovely.

Still holding the treasured flower, I skipped with all lightheartedness along the path. I was going somewhere, so there had been a purpose to my running, though I wasn’t sure what it was just yet. I was getting close, though. I could sense it. I felt the pull of a familiar energy source.

The woods opened up on a lake that was glassy and tranquil and nearly a mile wide. Tufts of springy clouds dotted the blue sky here and there. The most beautiful part of the picture was the reflection on the surface of the water; there was a mirror image of the forest and mountain on the opposite side of the lake from where I was standing. An amazing detail I caught? There was a reflection of a large moon and a smaller moon in the water, which seemed eerie and otherworldly because it was a beautiful, bright sunny day. I looked up and there they were, right beside the sun.

All I could do was stare in awe.

There was the sound of a large splash, and the glassy water suddenly rippled. I became aware of young men laughing and turned to see a pair of older teenagers swinging from a homemade rope swing over the lake, about twenty yards down the embankment. In a stand of trees that were old, large and bent like grizzled men, fat limbs sprang up, and it was to one of these that the swing was tied.

She wants you
,
Rye.
And she’s got a nice round pair.
Maybe she’ll let you play with them a little.
The blond boy doing the teasing was swinging back and forth, building up momentum and height.

Shut up
,
Nick.
The dark-haired boy grinned good naturedly
.
I could see his features and was momentarily transfixed, trying to figure out how I knew him. He was tall, with wiry muscles and a face that hadn’t yet filled into manhood. His skin was sun bronzed, and only a few black chest hairs were scattered across his pectorals.

Oh
,
Ryder
,
you’re so strong.
Oh
,
Ryder
,
you’re so handsome.
Kiss me!
The blond boy, Nick, used a horrid, high-pitched voice to mimic a female and dove off the swing into the water.

All right!
That’s it!

The dark-haired boy caught the swing and immediately swung into the water, trying to retaliate against his friend, a look of spirited determination on his face.

Ryder! I realized this was little baby Ryder. Awww.

Nick, aka baby Adonis (yes the Adonis that stole Cynthia away the other day), managed to get out of the lake and yell truce as Ryder surfaced out in the water. Nick grabbed a towel and wrapped up. He tossed one out to Ryder, who caught it as he came out of the water, shaking his dark hair out like a dog.

Any word yet?
Ryder flung the towel around his neck as he asked his friend the question.

Going light-years away.
It’s official.
Nick’s youthful face had a mile-wide grin.
What about you?

Ryder’s face took on a grim look.
Yeah.
I’m going.

I
take it your dad’s mad?

Hands braced on his hips, Ryder nodded grimly.
We got into an argument.

You knew that was coming.
He doesn’t want to see you go.

I’ve been looking into being one of the high-court investigators
,
which I can do while getting my judiciary merit.
He finally agreed to let me go because he thinks I’ll follow in his footsteps
,
from high-court council
,
like my mother
,
to high-court representative.
And my mom convinced him it would be good for me.

After a thoughtful pause, Ryder continued,
I’m still surprised he agreed.
It was really strange.
I’ve never seen my dad get this emotional.
I
mean
,
when Asily...you know
,
he went into a rage and punished the ones who killed her.
Ryder stopped, as though he couldn’t talk about it anymore.
He’s always so serious
,
holding it all in.
He can face down a murderer in high court and not show any kind of emotion
,
but the thought of me completing higher studies elsewhere is troubling him.

You’re going far
,
Ryder
,
not just a few hundred miles.

I
know.
And my grandfather was one of
“
the lost.
”
It’s as though our family is being targeted.

He could be right.

I
don’t think so.
It’s her ghost.
Asily’s.
It’s like she’s always there
,
but we can’t talk about her.
It’s like we have to pretend she never existed.

She died
,
Ryder
,
in this forsaken war.
She was his child
,
your sister.

The spirits know I’m aware.

It was the fault of the Brausa
.
Brutish animals.
Abominations.
Scorn creased Nick’s fair features, disdain staining his voice as he said the name.
We must remember who is at fault.
Always.

There are times I question that.
Ryder looked bleak as he stared down at the ground, his youthful face seeming to carry the weight of the world.

Rye
—

Ryder ran a hand through his dark hair, seeming to shake off the somber tone of the conversation. He put on a friendly face.
So I’ll be joining you on Earth.

It took a moment for Nick to switch gears, but seeing the resolute look on Ryder’s visage, Nick spontaneously gave a mischievous grin. He took on that high-pitched voice again.
Please don’t go
,
Rye.
I
haven’t shown you my very round breasts yet!

You’re getting it this time.
Ryder dumped his towel and the race was on. Nick took off up the slope and grabbed the rope swing.

Just as he jumped on it to swing, it snapped and broke. He went plunging down the hillside, crashing through the brush to smash against a tree. His shout was suddenly cut off, and Ryder, fear pouring over his face, called to his friend in a panicked voice. He rushed to where Nick lay gasping with pain near the water’s edge.

Oh
,
my God!
I exclaimed and ran down the embankment. Ryder looked up as I came crashing through the bushes, and his young green eyes looked confused for a moment, as though he recognized me and was trying to place who I was. I could almost see his memory catching up, and then baby Adonis (Nick) faded away into mist, like a projection that was turned off, which was absolutely the most astounding thing I’d ever seen. One moment he was there, writhing in pain and holding his obviously broken leg, and the next he was gone. How the hell had that happened?

I looked to Ryder, unsure whether to be horrified or confused by the sight, either way hoping to be reassured. But then Ryder transformed before my eyes. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it. One moment he was his teenage self, his face youthful and more slender, and the next, he was the man I’d come to know. He grew tall, over six feet, and broad, with thick, ropey man muscles that ran through his torso and legs. His square jaw filled in, a few lines fanned out from his forest green eyes and across his forehead, and all I could do was stare in awe, until I looked up at his eyes.

They were frighteningly cold. Menacing. If I’d thought he looked untamed before, it was nothing compared to how savagely angry he looked now. Enraged, even. It was a look no one had ever leveled at me before. It was a killing look. Fear engulfed me. I gasped for air like a fish out of water. My heart beat a quick, frantic warning to escape.
You have mylunate.
His voice rumbled across the space between us, amplifying, enveloping me in its deep vibration until I felt it shake through my bones.

What’s that?
I barely managed the whispered words. It was hard to think through gut-wrenching panic, especially as he started walking toward me. Stalking me. I stumbled back a few steps in reaction.

Don’t play fucking stupid with me.
You’re dreamwalking.
You can’t dreamwalk without continuous exposure to mylunate.
What the fuck kind of game are you playing?
His voice was a powerful, raspy growl that pounded the air between us.

I saw a merciless warrior looking at his enemy, not the tender, sensual man I’d locked lips with earlier that day. I barely kept a whimper of terror from slipping out. I backed away, one step at a time up the embankment, my legs feeling wobbly as rocks and gravel gave way, forcing me to catch myself.

I
don’t know what dreamwalking is.
I tried harder to scramble up the embankment. I needed space! More space between us, dammit! But the ground refused to give me purchase.

His eyes narrowed on my movements. His lip curled disdainfully.

How long have you been working for Grayson?
Ryder moved deliberately, one step at a time, closing the distance between us. His eyes drilled holes into mine, and his steps ate up the space separating us. He had no trouble stepping through the soil, as though it were an even trail. He was catching up to me without having to work at it, and somehow that made my hair stand on end more than anything else.

Who’s Grayson?
I
—
I
work for Alliance
,
in Hollywood.

He ignored what I said.
What’s in it for you?
Were you offered money?
Got tired of being trailer trash?
He looked over me scornfully, as though he found me wanting.
We could have offered you a better deal.
You should have come to us first.

I gasped, feeling like a shard of glass had pierced my heart.

Trailer trash.

He’d recognized my classless beginnings, even with all that I’d tried to accomplish in my life to overcome that handicap. Raw pain mixed with powerful fear clogged the back of my throat, and I could hardly respond. I was as invalid to him as I had been to all the people in my life. He could kill me with no remorse, and no one would protest or find injustice in it.

The thought brought a silent protest and a renewed fight from the depths of my soul.

I
don’t know what you’re talking about
,
Ryder.

Don’t you?

No!

I
didn’t have you pegged for a murderer.
Thousands of my people have died to protect our nation
,
and here you are working to revitalize a war that was all but over.
Twenty fucking years gone to shit.
Grayson was smart to pick you.
Somehow he just knew
,
didn’t he?
The statement was bitter and served to make him even angrier.

A
murderer?
I
haven’t done anything!

I
won’t play this game with you.
You fooled me with your big blue eyes and innocent look.
Fuck!
His eyes blazed with fury into mine.
It ends now.

Ryder suddenly stretched to gigantic proportions. He was ten, fifteen, twenty feet tall. His teeth became sharp fangs, and his eyes glowed an evil, piercing green. He issued a roar that shook the very ground where I stood.

My blood turned cold. The flower dropped from my fingers. I froze. A ball of energy surged powerfully from my gut, and the sound of a shrill, terrorized scream tore from my throat. The sound broke my paralysis.

I ran for all I was worth. It did no good.

The soil beneath my feet instantly, magically turned into the finest sand. I scrambled on all fours to get up the embankment, but it kept slipping under me. Instead of surging forward, I kept sliding back. A large hand grabbed my heel, and I shook it off frantically, pulling my foot out of my tennis shoe.

Free again, I tried to get to my feet and run, but the air around me developed the density of molasses. I couldn’t move through it.