Touched by Light

by Spangler, Catherine

  “Very funny,” she muttered. But she found herself bracing, until she saw the laughter in his eyes. “Oh, don’t tell me you have a sense of humor. That’s too many shocks for one day.”

  “Sorry about that.” He grinned, and she saw he had dimples. Add that to the bad-boy persona and the dark good looks, and the guy was killer. She was off balance and not thinking clearly. No way would she allow herself to be attracted to him.

  “Okay, do your thing,” she told him, and closed her eyes.

  His fingers tingled against her skin. Slow, hypnotic warmth rolled through her body. With her inner eye, she sensed more than saw bright, cleansing light flowing in the heated wake, chasing all vestiges of darkness from her body. Her stomach calmed and her muscles relaxed.

  But a new sensation tensed her muscles. A new type of heat caressed her skin. Desire sparked and flared; sexual energy rolled through her veins, turning her body on like a light switch. Need sizzled in several key spots. Startled, it took her a moment to figure out what was happening. Damn it! The guy really was a class A bastard.

  “Cut it out!” She slapped Sean’s arms away and stepped back. “You’re a lowlife slime, you know that?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? I just did you a favor.”

  Some favor. No way could he not know, especially since she had no doubt he’d used some of his special powers to turn her on. Both Adam and Sean had said she wasn’t a conductor, and therefore she assumed she wasn’t in the sexual attraction loop that apparently occurred between Sentinels and conductors. But that didn’t mean Sean couldn’t zap her with some sexual mojo and try to take advantage of her. What a jerk.

  “You know what? Just keep your distance.”

  Anger flared in his eyes. “Gladly. I don’t like hanging with freaks anyway—especially when they’re crazy.”

  So he was just yanking the sexual chain for grins? At least she could respect the basic lust a young, healthy guy might feel, even for a woman who wasn’t his type. In her experience, most twenty-something guys didn’t require much to get turned on. But she believed Sean was playing with her, and found it infuriating. Damned if she’d show it, though.

  “I wouldn’t point too many fingers, Mr. Supernatural.” She scooped up her backpack and headed to her bedroom.

  “Hey, a ‘Thank you for getting rid of the evil Belian sludge inside me’ would be nice.”

  “Oh, go burn on Saturn.” Sean had told her about Belian expulsions to Saturn earlier, and it gave her supreme satisfaction to throw that back at him before she closed the door.

  Then she locked it very deliberately, although she didn’t know if a mere lock would be effective against a Sentinel. She wondered if there was some sort of metal or alloy that disabled them. For all she knew, they might even be repelled by garlic.

  Not that any was necessary, because she and Sean seemed to naturally repel each other. On the other hand, if it worked on Belians, that would be helpful. Apparently, Belians were the epitome of true evil.

  And she had a very bad feeling about the one they were hunting.

  A conduction. Julia stared at Adam, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Shock fired through her, the kind that made it impossible to think clearly, much less assimilate accurate data. But then Adam had the ability to reduce her to both bumbling idiot and raving lunatic status.

  “You led me to believe that you needed me for my precognitive visions. And I made it clear that we wouldn’t do any conductions. I can’t—”

  Coward. She’d been wrong—she was a coward. She should be willing to do anything to stop this Belian. But old demons were raising ugly heads, spurring painful memories that overrode rationality. She felt like she was on a roller coaster, going from a physical bombardment of sexual energy to an emotional bombardment—all of it a highly unstable mixture.

  “I did not mislead you about needing your visions,” Adam said. “And I’ve referred several times to the spiritual and physical bonds between us, and what I’ve seen in my own visions. We just discussed all of this.”

  “If your visions are so damned powerful, why the hell do you need me?” She struggled to her feet.

  “Julia.” He stood, moving forward as she tried to back away. He reached out and grasped her arm. “Listen to me. We will not have sex, unless it is by mutual agreement.”

  “What about the conduction? What kind of game are you playing, Adam?”

  “Sit down. Give me a chance to explain.”

  “I can’t. Not right now.” She whirled, looking for her cane. She desperately needed to put some distance between them, needed time to regain her self-control.

  She hated that her thoughts were in a tumult. That she had panicked like a wounded animal and overreacted. That Adam had the power to shake up her hard-won control—and that he had to see her like this. He was a powerful adversary—one who would ruthlessly take advantage of her weakness if it suited his purposes.

  But worst of all was the brutal reminder she might never get over what Bennett had done to her. That he might win.

  “Julia. You’re going to hear me out.” Determination edged Adam’s voice. In one swift move, he sat on the couch, pulling her down beside him. His arm circled her shoulders, effectively pinning her against him.

  She tried to get free, found her limbs going rubbery, while a strange lethargy flowed through her. She managed to raise her fist and hit his shoulder, but it was like moving slow motion through quicksand and carried no force. “How dare you take advantage of me with your freaky abilities!” At least her vocal chords were working.

  “Believe me, you’d know if I was taking advantage. I’m just helping you to calm down, so we can discuss this rationally—something that’s supposedly one of your strong points. And so I can explain that a conduction doesn’t necessarily include sex.”

  Surprise stilled her struggles. “What? I thought sexual surges and intercourse were part of the deal.”

  “All conductions involve a sexual surge as the energy initiates and flows up through the four lower chakras. But the actual sex is optional. It makes the conduction more effective, but it’s not necessary. In this case, as a Sanctioned, I can pull in more energy, so we’ll still have a very clear conduction without joining physically.”

  “Oh.” She was definitely in the bumbling idiot category now. “I didn’t know. Nobody told me that.”

  “Marla never mentioned it?”

  “We’ve never discussed her sex life. I guess she’s reluctant because of . . . damn it.” She tried to push against him, getting the quicksand effect again. “Let me go.”

  “In a minute, after I’m certain you won’t try to mutilate me.” He slid his hand along her shoulder, kneaded the knots there. “You’re so tense. Take a deep breath, and try to relax.”

  She felt like a fool, but she did what he requested, so he’d release her. Being this close to Adam was wreaking havoc on her libido again, almost like a sensual overdose. She might be psychologically crippled when it came to sex, but her hormones were alive and well and currently clamoring, given the fact he was such a primo male. Not to mention the Sentinel/Sanctioned/whatever/conductor bond.

  Her utter embarrassment at her behavior helped quench some of the hormonal fire. For the second time in as many days, she’d lost all sense and self-control, her emotional meltdowns going way beyond sane actions.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” she murmured. “The panic was a gut-level reaction. I keep telling myself that I’m over the ra—” Even now, she couldn’t bring herself to say rape. It was just a word. Why couldn’t she say it?

  “What happened twelve years ago,” she continued. “I won’t give Bennett any victory over me—at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. But the thought of being with any man still throws me. I hate this loss of control. I hate my cowardice.”

  His hand slid over the nape of her neck, an unsettling, possessive gesture. “Listen to me, Julia. You are
not a coward. Not when you were attacked, or when you testified against that bastard and put him away, and went on with your life. And you’re not a coward now. You’re just dealing with a lot of unsettling things, including Bennett’s release. You’re normally so self-contained and controlled that you probably never vent your feelings. Sooner or later, the pressure valve is bound to blow.”

  Great. Dr. Masters was in session, and worse, he was probably right. But he wasn’t her therapist, and she wasn’t delving into her psyche with him. She brought the discussion back around to the matter at hand.

  “I want to catch this Belian as badly as you do. I want his rotten soul to burn on Saturn for an eternity. And I want to help make that happen. Even if my emotional baggage might put a crimp in a sexual conduction, if we can do one without the sex, I’m completely willing.”

  “That’s the Julia I know and admire.”

  “And I would like to be able to move now.”

  He released her, and she felt the strength returning to her limbs. She slid away from him, resettled herself at a safer distance. “I know you told me you had visions, but I never really thought about what that meant. Why do you need me if you’re capable of seeing things?”

  He stood and went over to the wet bar, produced a bottle of merlot and a corkscrew. She found herself staring at his ultraprimo butt, hastily forced her attention elsewhere.

  “Like you, I can’t always control what I see,” he said. “It’s very difficult for me to envision Belian activities, because of their shielding abilities. Why your precognitive ability can get past those shields is one of those universal mysteries. It’s also a point in our favor.”

  He opened the bottle and got out two wineglasses. “A conduction works by amplifying the Belian’s psychic signature that’s already been gathered, unraveling some of the layers and revealing more of the Belian’s essence. It provides deeper insights into the Belian, and often more information.”

  She considered that. “I remember you telling me that in a conduction, the third-eye energies of both the Sentinel and the conductor merge to create the magnification of the Belian psychic signature.”

  “That’s correct.” He brought a glass of wine to her. “I know we haven’t eaten yet, but it’s probably best to wait until after the conduction. However, there’s nothing wrong with a tonic to calm the nerves.”

  She accepted the wine. “I’m not sure one glass will do the job.”

  He tapped his glass to hers. “When we’re done, you can have the rest of the bottle if you want. I’ll even throw in some chocolate.”

  She had to smile. “You know, you can be really nice when you want to be.”

  His expression turned serious. “You might not think so when all is said and done.”

  Just like that, they were back to the reminder that he was a Sanctioned, capable of being utterly ruthless if he deemed it necessary.

  Not to mention the fact that they were about to do a conduction.

  IT was a constant struggle keeping the cursed Sentinel under control. He had to wage the battle whenever the alcohol began wearing off, whenever the Sentinel had a surge of awareness and fought to regain the upper hand. But he was clever, and he used the Sentinel’s foolish grief over a mere human, used his weakness for alcohol, to keep him in an emotional and physical stupor.

  By doing so, he was able to maintain control—just barely. He had the disadvantage of trying to function in a physical body that was impaired by booze, of having to deal with constant hangovers. And whenever the Sentinel started regaining cognizance, he had to force more alcohol into the body to keep control.

  But Belial’s hunger for blood, for vengeance, sustained him. He was more powerful, more cunning than the mourning Sentinel. Hatred was far more potent than weak, nonproductive emotions like love or empathy. And blood was far headier than liquor or drugs. It offered an indescribable euphoria, forged a bond with Belial.

  Belial was with him now, giving him strength and purpose. He had planned to make the blood offering over the weekend, when the Riverwalk would be more crowded with humans, to give more glory to Belial. But he sensed he was being hunted. And the Sentinel was stirring again, fighting to get back to the surface, back in control.

  He had to strike while he had the upper hand.

  So he strolled the Riverwalk, pleased that there were a lot of people out tonight. They were eating, listening to music, shopping, or just walking. All unaware of their destiny to glorify Belial. They thought they were safe, and the many police officers patrolling the Riverwalk added to that sense of false security.

  He spotted a policeman ahead of him, and Belial suggested a grand plan. One that he had never considered. It was unexpected, and so devious, so brilliant. It involved tapping into the powers of the subdued Sentinel and adding them to his own impressive abilities. Then he would reach out—just so—and take control of the policeman’s mind.

  And then . . . There would be blood for Belial. All for Belial.

  HIS name was Tomas Olvera, and he was good at his job. He’d been on the San Antonio police force for six years and genuinely liked people, which made him well suited for patrolling the Riverwalk. He had a low-key, personable way about him that could calm the rowdiest partygoer. But he could also be tough, if the need arose.

  He loved his beat, because it wasn’t strenuous work and it wasn’t particularly dangerous. It enabled him to spend quality time with his family and not worry about leaving them prematurely. He adored his two children, Anna and Daniel; he and his wife, Maria, had a great marriage. Life was good.

  Tomas was on duty this balmy Friday night, but he was off tomorrow and planned to take his family to Six Flags for Daniel’s fifth birthday. As he patrolled the Riverwalk, he thought about the miniature motorized four-wheeler he’d gotten Daniel, and how his son would love it. Another part of him kept a sharp eye out for any problems.

  The headache struck with sudden and debilitating force. It felt like someone had stuck a hot poker in his head. A wave of dizziness swept through him. He stumbled, tried to catch his balance. He reached for his radio to call for help.

  But darkness descended, inexorable . . . and final.

  JULIA sat on the sofa, her tension palpable. She was pale, despite the wine. Adam had moved the coffee table aside and pulled an armchair across from her. He sat, took her cold right hand in his left. “Do you trust me?”

  A spark of humor flared in her eyes. “About as far as I can shove you. Throwing you would be impossible.”

  He could feel her anxiety, sense the roiling emotions beneath her composed exterior. He wasn’t nervous, but low-level adrenaline buzzed through him. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done this before, either.”

  “Good. I’d hate to be the only conduction virgin here.” She gave him a challenging look. “Are you sure you know what to do?”

  “Of course. It’s my job to know these things.”

  “I can count on one constant with you—arrogance.”

  He knew she was saying that to ease some of her tension. In the past two days, she’d become more relaxed around him, not always on her guard or so prickly. She might not realize it, would probably deny it vehemently, but subtle changes in her body language when they were together told him otherwise. It had surprised him earlier when she put her hand on his arm and offered her support. Progress.

  “There are a few things you should know,” he said. “Once the conduction starts, don’t break our hand connection. Brace yourself, because the energies will rise fast, and they’ll be very powerful. You’ll feel strong sensations, possibly discomfort, in certain centers of your body as the chakras open. You’ll probably see colors and hear sounds. When our third eyes open and engage, you’ll see images flashing by at a rapid speed, and they might be disturbing. You don’t have to try to decipher them, or do anything but hold on. I’ll be able to absorb them and mentally replay them later.”

  “So I’m basically just a lowly conduit.”

/>   “Not lowly—you’re an extremely important component of this process. I’m going to shield now. Give me a few moments.”

  He pulled the pendant from beneath his sweater with his free hand, and going a step further than his earlier shielding, opened his crown chakra without preliminary meditation; something only Sanctioned could do.

  Immediately, his soul was sucked from his body, hurtling up, up, up, into the spiritual planes. Looking back, he saw the shining silver cord anchoring him to his physical body; saw the Earth far below, a glistening orb of jewel tones.

  Then he saw the shimmering, wavering shapes of the High Sanctioned, felt the jolt of their immense power like an electrical shock. Heard the cacophony of sounds that, with focus and intent, could be translated into comprehensible words—divine messages from demigods.

  The mystical veil that separated the current physical life from the akashic records of all existence, past, present, future, dissolved. Adam could see his past lives, flashes of Atlantis and the temple where he had served The One. It was a heady experience, and one in which a weaker being could become enmeshed. For Adam, it was merely an at tunement of his power for the conduction.

  He dropped back down to Earth, slid into his body with ease. As he settled, he chanted the ancient Atlantian words of supplication: Being of Light, surround us in your love and protection. Shield us from all that is not of the Light. Guide us to vision and truth, so that we may serve the Light. He felt the protection of The One wrap around Julia and him. It was time.

  “Ready?” he asked, releasing the pendant.

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Hold out your left hand, and turn both hands palm up.” He placed his hands over hers, palm down, and then wrapped his fingers around her hands. “Don’t let go.”

  He didn’t even have the words out before the energies surged up into the base chakras, exploding like gasoline torched by a match. Sexual need punched through him, bursting open the four chakras almost simultaneously with flashes of red and orange. A burning sensation in his chest competed with the raging demands of his sudden erection.