Grace jolted awake. Beside her, David thrashed on his back, his arms pinned to the mattress as if something held him down. His distress tore into her psyche, it sliced, it scoured her raw from the inside out.
She jostled him. "David, wake up."
His eyes flew open. They darted side to side, in search of phantoms spawned from his own fears and guilt. She understood his pain, but not its source, because he refused to tell her.
David shoved a trembling hand through his golden hair, gasping, sweat streaming down his face. His gaze swung sideways toward her, and he grimaced. "I woke you. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing and start explaining. Let me help you."
"I don't know what you mean." He mopped the sweat from his forehead with his T-shirt. "It was a bad dream caused by bad memories. A singular event. End of story."
"Uh-huh." He honestly had no clue. Well, it was time to give him one. "I know you haven't slept in our bed for months, until this little cat nap. And I know about your nightmares."
His body went rigid. His expression blanked.
She tucked her hands under her cheek, depressing the pillow. "Come on, David. What part of telepathic bond do you not get?"
He cleared his throat.
She poked him with her knee. "I can feel when you leave the room, and no matter how far away you run, I can also feel when you're having a nightmare. The same way you felt my panic."
David settled a hand on her hip, squeezing. "I didn't realize you felt it when I leave. I should've guessed." He pulled his hand away. "I am sorry."
His head rotated toward her, those gorgeous eyes focusing on her. She stretched, draped one leg over his, and combed her hand through his hair. He was unharmed and oh so alive, her vision of his death had been a mistake, it must've been. If he wouldn't talk, then she'd settle for nonverbal communication. "I'm feeling refreshed. How about you?"
"No, Grace."
"What?" She let her hand fall to his cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.
He bolted upright and patted her hip. "Time to get up. We have work to do."
When will you stop running away? She knew the answer. Not until he got his revenge. She wanted Tesler to pay too, but not at the expense of her relationship with David.
Flopping onto her back, she groaned. "What now?"
"You need to build a wall in your mind."
"May I please pee first?"
"I suppose I'll allow it." A slight smirk slanted his lips. He ripped the blankets away, and cool air prickled her skin. "You do that, and I'll make us breakfast."
She watched him rise, that muscular body unfurling. The sinews in his back flexed under his shirt as he stretched and yawned. He believed she was oblivious. Yes, she was oblivious of many things, hindered by amnesia. Yet she knew he was keeping secrets from her, most likely in the foolish male belief that ignorance equaled protection.
A few months ago, she'd caught him using her computer in the middle of the night. No big deal, she'd thought. But the sight of him stopped her — the bulging eyes, the parted lips, the blankness beyond his usual stoicism, his hands gripping his thighs. She'd hesitated in the doorway between the hall and the living room, her gaze glued to David, where he hunched in the recliner with her laptop balanced on his knees. The second he noticed her, he'd clapped the laptop's lid shut — along with his emotions.
When she'd asked what was wrong, he dismissed the whole incident by saying he'd "stayed up too late trolling the Internet."
Yeah, right.
David strode around the bed, offering his hands to her.
She let him help her up, but frowned at him. "What happened to your urgent lead? You know, the one that made us rush to the airport in the middle of the freaking night."
"I told Sean to wait for me and we'll check it out later."
"At one o'clock this morning, it was deathly important."
"Things change." He slapped her bottom. "Go. I'll meet you in the kitchen."
She started for the door, but paused on the threshold to glance back. "What changed? What's more critical than your mission to find Tesler?"
Though his expression had shuttered, his eyes burned into hers. In a voice low and steady, he said, "You should know the answer."
He pushed past her, stalking down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Grace sat cross-legged on the bed, hands on her knees, eyes closed. A touch danced across her skin, exciting places deep within her. Softening tension. Wiping away fear. She peeked out between her eyelashes. David perched on the bed's edge, angled toward her, hands resting on the comforter. His gaze trailed across her flesh like a physical touch. He could caress her without moving a finger. That knowledge shot fierce arcs of desire through her.
But when he did explore her body with those hands…
"Concentrate," David said.
Right. She was supposed to be doing that. He slid his gaze over her again, drinking in every inch of her, his sapphire-blue eyes gleaming. Oh lord. Her body melted, and she slanted toward him as if he commanded the response from her. The lamplight burnished his short blond hair, transmuting it into twenty-four-carat gold. He sat straight, shoulders square, like a warrior angel meditating before a battle.
David frowned, the expression carving lines in his features. "You're not even trying. Building a psychic firewall won't be easy, so you have to concentrate."
"It's hard to focus when I keep thinking about — " You kissing me.
He closed his hand around hers. "I didn't die."
An image punched through her mind. The knife slashing down into his chest. The blood. David sprawled on the ground. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, pining for the warmth, but the frost inside her resisted it. "Tesler stabbed you. I watched it happen, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do."
"It must've been a dream."
"I was awake. And unless you're implying I've gone psychotic, I did not hallucinate it."
"You aren't insane."
He rubbed her arms, his touch banishing some of the chill. A breeze from the air conditioner wafted over her. The frost inside thickened, sweeping through her from scalp to toes. David wrapped his arms around her, and his warmth enveloped her. She rested her head on his chest, relishing his heat. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. His heart ticked like clockwork.
"Maybe what you saw was real," he said, "but it hasn't happened yet."
"Huh?"
He enfolded her hand in his, massaging the sensitive flesh of her palm with his thumb. "You might've had a vision of the future."
"I don't have premonitions."
"Your powers must've grown."
"What if I don't want them to?"
He shrugged. "Can't fight it. Your brush with the Golden Power might've altered your psychic makeup."
"Great."
His lips curved into a smile. "Your powers are the strongest I've ever seen. Who knows what new abilities you might develop."
Christ. She'd implored the universe to grant her amnesia about her brush with the Golden Power, and yet the memory plagued her to this day. Biting into immeasurable power. Sipping from limitless knowledge. A piece of her buried deep hungered to feast once more.
Never again.
She scooted backward, drawing out a distance between them. "Maybe it was a premonition. In which case, you need to stay home."
"Can't."
"Why?"
"You know why." He traced his index finger down her blouse and over the center of her bra, stopping at the rectangular plastic object tucked inside. She stroked her tongue across her lower lip, overcome by the notion she could taste him in the air, and her body bent toward him just a little. With his fingertip, he pinned the object to her breastbone. "Still safeguarding our treasure?"
The husky tone of his voice excited her skin, like sparks crackling over her. Damn him. He was doing this to her on purpose. The flicker of irritation couldn't overwhelm her hormones.
"Yes, your blasted flash drive is safe and sound." She dived a hand down her blouse, grasped the one-inch-long device, and yanked it out. Her blouse flapped. "You can have the stupid thing."
David folded his fingers around hers, enclosing the flash drive in their hands. His gaze bored into her eyes with an intensity that fluttered her stomach. A blush fired up in her cheeks, so hot her face must've glowed.
He nodded at their joined hands. "Maybe I should keep this."
The flash drive contained all the research data from Project Outreach, the psychic research initiative her parents and grandfather had run. When a deranged man bought out ALI, the company that funded the research, her world plummeted into a blood-soaked nightmare. Her parents were murdered. She'd believed her grandfather also died. And a door in her mind slammed shut then, blocking out every memory she had of those events — and of David.
Until he found her again six months ago. They'd re-forged their bond, psychic and emotional, but she would've risked her sanity, her life, to regain the rest.
As for the flash drive...
She shook her head. "It's safer with me."
He stared at her for so long she wondered if he'd gone catatonic. Then he dropped her hand, slanting his head. His concern radiated through the air, swirling around her. Anxiety stabbed through her. When he ran off again, she'd have to cope with her psychic intruder alone. Why did she put up with his self-imposed mission to stop Tesler?
A dull ache tugged at her heart. She put up with it because she loved him too much to give up on him without a teeth-grinding, heart-ripping, soul-wrenching fight.
She rolled her shoulders back, shimmying to get a better position. "I need to build a psychic firewall. Before you leave."
He plucked the flash drive from her hand and dropped it down her blouse. It plunked back into her bra. "Then you need to concentrate. And relax."
She settled her hands onto her knees. Closed her eyes. Exhaled. "Where did the crossroads come from?"
"I don't know. Nobody does."
She opened one eye. "How does it work?"
"You know how. You've accessed it."
She drummed her fingers. He studied her, his face impassive, his posture straight but casual.
"Yeah, but what is it?" she asked. "What's the crossroads made of? Who created it? Why does it work?"
"Like a real crossroads, the sort that carries cars, the metaphysical crossroads acts as a junction. It has many more connecting lines than any physical crossroads has, but the principle is similar."
"But how — "
"For Christ's sake, Grace, I don't know."
A smile punctuated her meditative repose. His lips had twisted into a frown. He hissed a breath out his nose. Though his strength and composure reassured her, once in a while she craved a taste of the passion simmering below. A kiss would've sated her better, but an annoyed outburst would do for the moment.
He shook his head, fighting back a smile. "You did that on purpose."
She laughed. "Yep."
He patted her knee. "Back to work."
Grace shut her eyes.
David's voice, calm and gentle, guided her. "Relax, and let go of everything."
She relinquished her hold on thoughts, on sensations, on everything. Her body lightened, as if floating above the bed's covers.
"Focus," David said. "Think about building a wall."
"Right, a wall. What does that mean?"
"Whatever you think it means."
"Could you be less specific?"
He squeezed her knee. "I don't even know if this can be done. But you need to try."
Letting out a long breath, she unwound her muscles one by one. Her mind drifted into blankness, hovering. She slithered through the dark tunnel and out into the crossroads. Stars glimmered, yet none beckoned her.
She had no wish to travel anywhere. Strength, power — she coveted those things. The crossroads could slake her thirst.
Vibrations bristled her astral body. She unlocked her mental gates, throwing them wide. The energy cascaded into her, bolstering her powers, chilling her down to the core of her psyche. Enough. She'd harvested sufficient energy from the crossroads.
Gathering the new power she'd absorbed, she imagined its glow encompassing her, solidifying, transmuting into bricks that constructed a circular wall. Holes in her psychic structure filled in, imbuing her mind with a new strength.
A ray of warmth prodded the chill inside her. David. Calling her home. She dived through the tunnel. Pressure constricted her mind, stuffing it back into her body.
Claws clamped onto her, wrenching her back out into the crossroads. Sticky, dark power fused to her astral skin.
She grappled with the force restraining her. Its talons dug into her psyche. Her head swam. Pain lanced her eyes. Let me go.
"Come back to me."
David's voice reverberated in the chasm. She latched onto it, her life preserver, and kicked at the restraint. The talons slipped, loosening. She plummeted into her body. Her eyes flew open.
Blackness drowned her vision. Oh no, please no.
Hands seized her. David's energy poured through her, scalding away the frost. She hugged their connection and dragged herself up it like climbing a rope. The restraining talons tore at her. She funneled David's warmth into her, firing it at the force that held her. The talons popped free.
She vaulted out into the light, gasping for breath, sucking in blessed oxygen. David stared at her, his wide eyes searching hers, his hands fastened on her shoulders. Why was he so far away? She squinted, as if peering through a telescope at an object miles distant. His touch anchored her, yet her mind still hovered. Numb. Remote. Separate from everything physical, even the hammering of her own heart.
David shook her. "Come back, Grace. Please, whatever it is, shake it off."
His voice, riddled with tension, chopped through the invisible fog. His words shepherded her out of limbo and back into reality. Air tickled her skin, cool and dry. Humming vibrated her eardrums. The AC had just kicked on. She wiggled her trembling fingers, the nails scraping across her cotton sweatpants.
She blinked once, twice. The world shifted into focus.
David covered her hands with one of his. The heat of his skin bled into her. Warm. Alive. Normal. She hadn't been dragged into a netherworld.
He grasped her face in his free hand. "What the hell happened?"
"I — I don't know. Something grabbed me, it was alive, it… wanted me."
He plowed his fingers into her hair to tilt her head up, bringing their eyes into alignment. "Are you okay?"
"I think so. Yes." She forced a smile. "Whatever it was, it's over."
His eyes narrowed and his lips compressed.
"Really, David, I'm fine."
If she told him about the talons, and the oily energy, he'd realize it might be connected to the Golden Power. She was tainted, forever. How could he want her if he knew? Then again, if he accepted it, he'd worry about her, about what was happening to her. The distraction, in the midst of his quest for Tesler, might get him killed.
She drew his hand out of her hair, feathering a kiss over his palm. "I get anxious about using my powers, you know that. Probably all this was. Anxiety."
His shoulders slumped a little, his lips relaxed, and he nodded. "Okay. We'll chalk it up to stress affecting your powers — for the moment. Did you at least try building a firewall?"
"Yes." She rolled her shoulders back and straightened. "I'm not sure what I did, but I think it worked."
"Good."
David's phone chirped. He wrestled it out of his pocket. Grace leaned forward to read the caller ID, spotting a name she knew. Sean Vandenbrook. David's sort-of protégé.
He gave her a little shove. "Stop snooping. I have to take this."
"You know what he wants."
"Uh-uh." Tapping the touch screen, he grunted a greeting. His expression blanked. "I'm on my way. Don't move until I get there."
David jammed the phone back in his pocket.
She clasped her hands on her lap, quelling the lingering tremors. "You're leaving."
"Yes," he said. "I ordered him not to, but Sean traced the lead he got earlier today and he thinks he found another of Tesler's facilities in Montana. If I don't get there quickly, he'll go in alone."
She sighed, her shoulders deflating. He was right, but she still itched to throttle him, to burst into tears, to scream, to implore him to stay. Instead, she spoke in an even tone that demanded all her self-control to achieve. "Sean's even more obsessed with finding Tesler than you are. He could get himself killed."
The teenager needed adult supervision. Sometimes she thought David did too. Both he and Sean pursued every lead, no matter how lame, to track down Tesler. How many times had they stumbled home with bruises and cuts? She'd lost count. There was nothing she could say to stop them. Right now, she could strangle the pair of them — one with each hand.
She anchored her hands on her hips. "Besides, even when you're here, you're not really here. I get more attention from the mailman."
"Grace, don't do that."
"What?"
"Don't retreat into your fortress of sarcasm."
The anger boiled off in an instant, dissipating into the air. He was right, again, and she hated herself for being such a bitch. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to do it. Stuff sort of bubbles out of me. You better head out, help Sean. I can call Grandpa if I need anything."
David scrunched his eyebrows, the only crack in his unreadable expression. "Are you sure you don't mind if I go?"
Of course she minded, dammit. But what else could she say? She'd deal with it. Like a mature adult.
Rats. She hated being a grown-up.
"Sean needs a rational adult to rein him in," she said. "I insist you go."
He nodded, and then strode out of the bedroom. She pursued him down the hallway to the front door. A stoic mask cloaked his face, revealing nothing but those glittering eyes.
She bit her lip. "Remember, just because Sean can heal you doesn't mean you can take crazy risks. I expect you to come home in one piece. Don't make me have to rescue you again."
Her features tensed, darkened by a reaction that baffled her. What had she said?
"I'll be careful," David said. He spun away and grasped the door knob. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Yes." The word burned on her tongue, but she had to say it. He needed to hear it.
He yanked the door open.
Humid air whispered over her, cloying and hot. Her socked feet slid across the wood floor, heavy and stiff, unwilling to let her lift them even while she closed the distance to David. Her hand lighted on his arm and she soaked in the heady warmth of him. Her fingers caressed the firm ripples of his muscular body, tracing the lines up his arms and onto his back. Before he left, she yearned to etch him into her memory.
Fear crunched her heart in its icy fist. The vision. Tesler. Blood slicking her hands. Pain searing her chest. His pain. His blood.
He might not come home this time. Remember.
She explored him with both hands, relishing the contrast between hard muscle and tender flesh. As the fabric of his shirt rasped across her palm, a shiver vibrated through her. Even through the barrier, his heat spread into her palms. It poured into her body, dousing the tension, snuffing out the fear.
"Go," she murmured. "I'll be okay, and Sean needs you more than I do right now."
His body tensed. His muscles undulated, igniting a tingle in her hands. It unfurled through her body in a blistering, aching wave that tightened something deep inside her. Oh God. She gnawed her lip, battling the urge to drag him into the house. Slam the door. Jam the deadbolt. Fall on her knees and plead with him to stay here, with her.
He whirled around and crushed her against him.
His kiss consumed her in a fiery torrent that scorched away reason and doubt. Her body wilted against him as his lips sparked firecracker explosions inside her. Every ounce of his passion and anguish rushed through her mind and body, a gift of sensation that stole the breath from her. The world gyrated around her. A delicious ache washed through her body. Her legs quivered, on the verge of buckling. Heat flushed her skin. Her chest heaved. Oh David.
He pushed her away and stomped out the door.