"Orchid, wait—"
"I quit Find yourself another prism. I'm going to call a cab. And then I'm going to call another private investigator."
"What the hell for?"
"To help me prove that Theo didn't steal that relic." She stalked to the massive, Later Expansion period table and snatched up the phone. "I'm going to dear his name."
"Damn it—" Rafe started toward her.
"Don't come near me." She punched out the number of the cab company she routinely used. Then she turned quickly, holding up a hand to ward him off. "Stay, back."
His eyes darkened. "Stop giving me orders as if I were a cat-dog."
She felt the heat suffuse her face a second time. "I never meant—"
"Yes, you did." He snatched the phone out of her hand and slammed it back down into the cradle. "Calm down and listen to me. You can't walk out now."
"Watch me."
"I'm the one who's been hired to solve this case. If you really want to prove that Theo Willis did not steal that artifact, working with me is the most efficient way to do it."
His logic brought her up short. She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking quickly.
"I hate to admit it, but you've got a point," she said finally.
His jaw tightened. His expression was stark. "There's another reason why I want you to work with me on this case."
"Yeah, I know. You want me because I'm the best prism you've ever had."
"Because I want you. Period." His hands closed around her shoulders. "The only question I have at the moment is, do you want me?"
She stared at him, stunned, into silence by the dark flames of sexual desire that leaped in his eyes. An answering heat stirred deep within her.
"Oh, my," she whispered. "So you feel it, too."
"If you're talking about what happens when we link, yes. I feel it. That's not a problem."
"It's not?"
"I could deal with that, if there wasn't anything more to it."
She could not look away from his intent face. "What is the problem?"
"The problem," he said very deliberately, "is that I go on wanting you after we cut off the focus link."
She was very close to him now. The heat of his body pulsed against her, drawing her nearer. "I see. That is a problem, isn't it?"
"I need to know if you have the same problem."
She drew an unsteady breath, violently aware of the sudden, exhilarating rush of her own pulse. "I'm sure it's just a superficial sort of thing. Some kind of weird, lingering after effect of the link."
"Think so?"
The flash of icy amusement in his eyes annoyed her.
"Well, it's not as if we have anything in common," she said.
"Don't," he said, "remind me."
He brought her up hard against his chest, wrapped one hand around the back of her head, and kissed her. A deep, hard, fiercely urgent kiss.
A driving thrill of need washed over her.
"Just call me superficial." She wrapped her arms around Rafe's neck.
It felt so right. Excitement and need rose within her. It shouldn't feel this good, but it did.
Rafe's low, hoarse groan induced a delicious, fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach. He tightened his hold on her. She felt his hand close over her breast. The heat of his palm seeped through the fabric of her T-shirt She sensed his pleasure when he discovered that she wore no bra. His satisfaction increased her own desire in some crazily synergistic fashion.
The contours of his heavily aroused body pressed against her. She could not get close enough to him.
Without warning, just when everything seemed to be going along quite nicely, she felt herself float up off the ground. She gasped and clung more tightly to Rafe. Surely the passion he was generating could not have triggered an illusion on the metaphysical plane. She was excited, but not that excited.
Admittedly there was a dreamlike quality to Rafe's kiss, but she was not hallucinating.
The world shifted around her.
She squeezed her eyes more tightly together. She was okay. Awake. Not dreaming.
So why the dazed sensation?
She opened her eyes part way, seeking to steady herself with a view of the solid, stable room.
There was nothing reassuring about the sight of the old-fashioned jelly-ice candles in the wall sconce spinning past her field of vision.
Before she could sort it all out she felt herself falling. Slowly, gently, she floated downward until she became aware of the thick rug beneath her.
It finally dawned on her that Rafe had swung her off her feet and lowered her to the carpet.
Laughter bubbled through her.
He came down on top of her, crushing her into the thick rug. He braced himself on his elbows. His eyes burned.
"Want to share the joke?" he muttered against her throat.
"If there's a joke, it's on me." She framed his face with her hands and pulled his mouth back down to hers. "I never dreamed it could feel like this."
He uttered a low, hoarse, hungry groan. His mouth closed over hers again. He wedged one leg between her thighs and pushed his hands up under the hem of her T-shirt.
She was fumbling with the edge of his pullover, trying to get her hands underneath it, when a measure of sanity returned. What was she doing? It was all happening much too quickly.
"Rafe. I'm not sure this is a good idea. It's too soon. We barely know each other. A superficial kiss is one thing. Superficial sex is something else."
"You may be right." Desire gleamed in his eyes. It was echoed in the faint curve of his mouth. "Maybe it will seem like a better idea if we do it this way."
She felt the familiar questing probe of his psychic talent seeking a prism. Automatically she responded. On the metaphysical plane a crystal clear prism took shape. Rafe eased power through it with seductive skill.
This time the accompanying flare of sexual awareness was so intense Orchid could not think. She could not even breathe. She felt as if she had just plunged over a waterfall.
And then she understood what Rafe was trying to do. Outrage slammed through her, dousing a good measure of the passion.
"Oh, no you don't, Stonebraker." She pushed against his looming shoulders as she tried to break off the psychic connection. "Stop it right now. Damned if I'll let you use a focus link to seduce me."
"No, wait," he whispered. "Don't let go. Please."
Out on the psychic plane Rafe caged the prism she had created with shimmering bands of raw power.
Orchid was horrified to realize that she could not break the link. If she had not heard the tales from her friends at Psynergy, Inc., she would not have believed that it was possible to do what Rafe was doing.
Instinct and the self-defense tenets of meta-zen-syn took over. She stopped trying to resist. Instead, she sent more of her own power out onto the psychic plane. Swiftly she manipulated the facets of the prism, altering the focus until the energy waves scattered. It was as if they were refracted through a thousand glittering mirrors. Power ricocheted aimlessly across the psychic plane.
"What the hell?" Rafe's stunned surprise came through on both the physical and metaphysical planes. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think you're doing?" she retorted.
"Damn. I'm sorry." Rafe's reflexes on the metaphysical plane were even faster than they were in the physical world. He cut the flow of talent with devastating suddenness. "I'm sorry. Oh, shit, I never meant—"
Orchid quickly dissolved the prism. She watched warily as Rafe slowly sat up beside her. She did not know what to expect from him. He did not look angry or baffled or shocked.
He looked deeply mortified. A dull red stained his high cheekbones. Chagrin, embarrassment, and humiliation blazed in his eyes. There was something else there, too, she realized. Fear?
Why should Rafe be afraid?
"I'm sorry," he said again. He put out a hand as if to touch her and then withdrew it. "That was very . . . primitive o
f me, wasn't it?"
Relief flooded through Orchid. She suddenly understood the fear she had glimpsed in his eyes. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm used to that kind of thing."
He blinked. "You are?"
"Sure. I write about psychic vampires all the time, remember?"
"I am not a vampire."
The tightly leashed fury in him brought her up short. She sat up slowly. "No, of course you're not. It's okay. I was only making a joke."
"I fail to see any humor in the situation."
"It might not be the funniest thing that's ever happened to me, but it certainly isn't the end of the world, either."
"Orchid, listen to me. I swear I never meant to do what I did."
"Lighten up, Stonebraker." She patted his knee. "You got a little carried away with the first prism who could focus your full range of power. No big deal. Next time you'll know what to expect. You won't go off the deep end a second time. You've got too much control for that."
His jaw was rigid. "I did not get carried away because of the focus link."
"No?"
"I got carried away because I didn't want to lose—" He broke off. "Forget it."
"I will," she assured him. And knew that she was lying through her teeth. She would never forget that kiss as long as she lived. "It was just a kiss that got a little out of hand. Probably happens all the time, right?"
He watched her closely. Dark curiosity lit his gaze first. It was followed by a flash of satisfaction.
He knew that she was lying.
Impossible. He couldn't be reading her mind. Strat-talents were not human lie-detectors, she reminded herself.
"You're wrong, you know," he said quietly. "That kind of thing does not happen very much to me. What about you?"
"Uh, no." She cleared her throat. "No, it doesn't happen much to me, either."
She held her breath, afraid he would pursue the point with the sort of single-minded intensity he applied to his investigation work.
But to her euphoric relief, he changed the topic.
"I knew you could create a near-perfect focus," Rafe said. "But I didn't realize you could manipulate it in a negative as well as a positive way. Before tonight, I would have said that what you just did was impossible."
Chapter 6
Orchid was suddenly mildly embarrassed. "It's not that weird, you know. I have a friend named Zinnia who can manipulate the prism she projects to some extent. She can twist it. When that happens any power flowing through it is also twisted in a way that's painful for the talent"
"You did a hell of a lot more than twist the focus. You manipulated each individual facet of the prism."
"Yes."
"It's incredible."
"I'm glad you're impressed," she muttered.
Rafe shoved his fingers through his hair. His eyes were wary. "I didn't mean to jump your prism the way I did."
"I know."
"I didn't even realize I could jump a prism in that way," he admitted. "Didn't think it was possible."
"Happens all the time in psychic vampire romance novels."
He smiled ruefully. "Is that a fact? Maybe I'd better read one." He drew a breath. "Five hells. No wonder the folks at ParaSyn wanted to run a few experiments on you."
Orchid fussed with her T-shirt while she collected herself. Then she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I'll let you in on a little secret."
"What's that?"
"The ParaSyn researchers knew that I was an ice-prism, of course, but I never let them see how much I could do with my prism construct."
Rafe's gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"I allowed myself to get talked into doing the study for the sake of science. But once I started I realized I didn't want to demonstrate the full range of my abilities. Some instinct made me limit what I showed the researchers."
"You don't have to explain. You're talking to an off-the-chart strat-talent, remember? I don't go around telling people how strong I am, either."
She smiled wryly. "No, I can understand that."
Rafe reached out to catch her chin on the edge of his hand. He turned her head so that her eyes met his. "The last thing I wanted to do was scare you so badly you had to resort to using your secrets."
Annoyed, she lifted her chin away from his hand. "Will you please stop apologizing? You didn't frighten me. You made me angry. Big difference."
"Right. Big difference. I'm sorry that I made you angry."
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "If you say you're sorry one more time, I'll get really mad. I think you're only apologizing because you don't want to admit what really happened."
"What do you think really happened?"
"You lost control for a few seconds. Losing control bugs the heck out of you, doesn't it?"
His mouth thinned, but he said nothing.
She patted his knee again. "Don't fret about it. I'm sure it won't happen again."
His eyes gleamed. "It might if you continue to pat me as if I were a cat-dog."
She paused in mid-pat and hastily retrieved her hand. "Sorry."
He got to his feet with languid grace and stood looking down at her with a thoughtful expression. "You know, psychically, I'd say we're fairly well matched."
She rose, ignoring his outstretched hand. "I suppose this means that we do have something in common besides the fact that we can't get a date. Well, it's been an interesting evening, but it's getting late. I'd better be on my way."
She scooped up her jacket from the high back of the old Later Expansion period sofa and started toward the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
"Home. Are you going to drive me or shall I call a cab?"
"What about Theo Willis?"
She stepped out into the hall and paused to look back at him. "I've decided that you're right."
"About what?"
"Working with you will be the most efficient way of proving that Theo didn't steal the missing relic."
"Willis is dead," Rafe said evenly. "He won't care whether or not you clear his name. From what I learned today, he doesn't even have any close family who will give a damn if he was guilty or innocent."
"I care. He was an ice-prism. There aren't very many of us. This sort of thing gives my kind a bad rap. Makes us look even more weird than we are. For the sake of ice-prisms everywhere, past and future, I'm going to prove that he was innocent."
"Damn," Rafe said as he followed her toward the door. "I hate it when this happens."
"When what happens?"
"When naive, amateur investigators set out to solve a case for the sake of a principle."
"Really?" One hand on the doorknob, she glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Why do you set out to solve cases?"
"I do it for the money."
"Liar." She opened the door and walked out into the night.
The dream bore down on her with the relentless, heart-stopping power of a jungle storm.
The psychic vampire sent forth the questing probe from the heart of the night. Talons of strange, unnatural energy lanced across the metaphysical plane, seeking, groping, clawing for a prism.
All of her instincts, psychic and physical, fought the terrible summons. She knew that if she weakened, she would be trapped forever in the eerie embrace.
Darkness howled across the psychic realm. Paranormal power crackled like lightning. The vampire was closer, closer than the last time. She must awaken. If she did not, she would see the creature's face. She did not want to confront the predatory thing that sought to imprison her. Her only hope was to wake up before it was too late . . .
Orchid's eyes snapped open with shocking abruptness. She sat straight up in bed, aware that she was soaked to the skin with perspiration. Her nightgown clung to her breasts and the place between her shoulders, yet she was chilled to the bone.
This was the worst it had ever been. The vampire had been so close this time.
The jarri
ng warble of the phone broke through the last remnants of dazed, mindless fear. Orchid blinked and reached out to turn on the bedside light. At the same time she forced herself to do some meta-zen-syn breathing exercises.
The phone rang again, an imperious summons. She realized that it had been ringing for some time. She glanced at the clock as she picked up the receiver. Nearly three in the morning. She had been asleep since shortly after Rafe had brought her home sometime after midnight.
"Hello?"
"Orchid?" Rafe's voice came through the line with the bracing impact of a bucket of cold water. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"
"Yes." Orchid fell back against the pillows with a sigh of relief that she sincerely hoped Rafe did not hear. It would probably not be a good idea for him to know how grateful she was for his call. "Yes, of course. I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
"You awakened me in the middle of a bad dream." It occurred to her that his timing could not have been better. "I'm all right now. Why in the world are you calling at this hour?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
"This is not a good tune to go cryptic on me. I don't think very clearly at three in the morning."
"I'm telling you the truth. I woke up out of a sound sleep with the feeling that I had to call you right now. So I did."
Orchid shivered. "Weird."
"Yes."
"I'm glad you did," she confessed. "I've had that particular dream before. Several times during the past week, in fact. I don't like it very much."
"I could tell. What's the dream about?"
"I'm sure you've got better things to do than listen to me tell you about my stupid nightmare."
"No, as a matter of fact, I don't have anything better to do. I'm just lying here looking up at the sky."
"The sky?"
"I've got a window in my bedroom ceiling. Both moons are out tonight."
"Oh." She had a sudden, disturbing image of what it would be like to be in his bed gazing up at the twin moons.
"Tell me about your dream."
Orchid knew that she should say goodnight and hang up the phone. Dreams were very personal. Much too intimate to discuss with a business client.
But the impulse to confide in him was overwhelming. Perhaps it was the hour. Three in the morning was a very dark time of night. Or maybe it was because her pulse had not yet settled down to its normal pace. Maybe it was simply because Rafe had crossed the invisible barrier between client and something else earlier in the evening when he kissed her. Whatever it was, Orchid could not resist the urge to talk to him now.
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