Parallel Heat

by Deidre Knight

  Marco, she thought, feeling her energy gyrate dynamically throughout her form, what about you made this so necessary?

  She went long periods of time without allowing her Change—without even thinking about it. Other seasons brought such frank restlessness that she could hardly slake her thirst for it. But those impulses usually accompanied her mating cycles.

  Tonight was different, she thought, with a pirouette and shimmy of golden glory. This night, a man had made her yearn to Change—and for once it hadn’t been Jared. No good can come of these feelings—look what loving Jared did to me! That thought instantly dulled her exultant freedom, and all the thrilling fire inside of her turned icecold. She felt adrift, marooned in her natural form, and with a sullen groan of power, changed back to her Refarian body. She collapsed in front of the hearth, staring at the charred remnants of last night’s fire, and felt surprisingly frightened. Frightened that any man had the power to ignite her like Marco McKinley obviously could.

  Correction, she thought, planting her elbows on her knees glumly, it wasn’t Marco. It had been her visions of him. No wonder she was frightened. Her gift of intuition never operated that way, not with such concrete images and dialogue. All those impressions about Marco had been much more like memories—very specific and concrete memories.

  The dizzying impressions came rushing to the fore again, as vividly as if Marco were standing right in front of her. She felt his angry grip on her, felt the heat of his body. ‘‘You aren’t capable of love,’’ he snarled coldly. I want to tell you how I feel, she thought, pressing her eyes closed. She could taste the feelings, the need for him that she’d suppressed every waking moment she had spent near the man. He’d thought her dead inside, but she’d only been lost. So very, very lost. Wake me, Marco! she had desperately wanted to cry. Make me alive again!

  Blinking back the eerie, quick-firing images, she felt her heart squeeze tight. I’m capable of loving you, Marco, a soft voice supplied in her mind, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

  ‘‘What in All’s name is happening to me?’’ she whispered, burying her face in both trembling hands.

  The fact was, something supernatural had begun to weave its web between the two of them tonight; he’d obviously felt it too. And there was only one possible course of action, at least if she wanted to make sense out of the strange memories in her mind: She had to go back to his room. Tonight. But first there was something she had to bring with her, something he needed to know all about.

  A soft knock came on Marco’s door, and he sat upright in bed, instantly alert. He hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, not with his thoughts darting wildly from one urgent topic to another. That, and his body had been tighter than a drum after being so close to Thea in this same room.

  Maybe she’d returned, he thought with a hopeful lurch out of bed. He didn’t bother dressing, but strode to the door wearing only his boxer briefs. When he opened it, Thea stood on the other side, her mouth set in a tense line. She had gathered her composure since her visit an hour earlier, but her cheeks still bore the telltale flush that he’d given her the last time. That blush deepened as her gaze slid over his half-naked body in subtle appraisal. ‘‘Back so soon?’’ he asked, leaning lazily against the door frame.

  She held a book in her hands, and pressed it protectively against her chest, avoiding eye contact. ‘‘I must speak with you, Mr. McKinley. Tonight. It’s a matter of great urgency.’’ The two soldiers flanking her stared at him hard, but neither made a move. Slowly Marco pushed the door open, maintaining his position until she had brushed past him. Only then did he turn and pull the door shut, leaving the soldiers on the other side of the threshold.

  ‘‘I’m assuming you had a private meeting in mind?’’ He folded both arms over his chest.

  ‘‘Th-there’s something we must discuss,’’ she said, and he noticed that her voice had a trembling sound to it. Instantly he was worried, all pretense of flirtation and provocation falling to the wayside.

  ‘‘What’s wrong, Thea?’’ he asked seriously. ‘‘Did something happen after you left here?’’

  ‘‘No, that’s not it.’’ She shook her head, staring down at the slim volume held within her hands. ‘‘But you’re right—I do need to understand what happened tonight,’’ she told him softly, licking her lips.

  He sat down on the edge of his bed, and gestured toward a chair on the other side of the cramped room. ‘‘Of course.’’ He gave an encouraging nod. ‘‘Talk to me, Lieutenant.’’

  ‘‘At the bar? Tonight? I heard things—in my head. Saw things,’’ she explained, gesturing nervously with the book. ‘‘I need to know if that’s what you were talking about earlier.’’

  ‘‘I heard things too,’’ he answered simply, trying his best to behave in her presence. She was confused and upset enough; she didn’t need him baiting her, no matter how much he wanted the woman.

  But she gazed at him with such unabashed emotion it was all he could do to keep his reaction to her under control. ‘‘You heard . . . me? In your mind?’’ she asked softly.

  ‘‘Sure enough,’’ he answered laconically. ‘‘Heard all kinds of things in my head.’’

  ‘‘They were like memories, what I heard. What I saw.’’

  He dared to raise his eyes again; it seemed that her own were blazing with wild energy. ‘‘I think they were memories,’’ he answered, suddenly convinced that they had been. Somehow, someway, he knew it was true.

  With shaking hands, she flipped open the book, holding it in her lap as she smoothed her palm over the page. ‘‘This was written by my ancestor, Prince Arienn D’Aravni. He tells in here about something that happened after visiting Earth and overseeing the mitres installation. . . .’’ Her voice trailed off, and she slammed the book shut. ‘‘This is madness.’’ She pressed a hand to her temple. ‘‘I shouldn’t even be here, shouldn’t be reading this to you.’’

  ‘‘I’m your ally, Thea. I thought you believed me.’’

  ‘‘I don’t know what to believe!’’ she cried, beginning to quiver all over. He wondered if she were experiencing more of the visions that they’d shared earlier.

  He stared at her for a long moment. Her blue eyes were intensely beautiful; full of emotion and longing and pain. It took every ounce of his soldier’s discipline to keep from simply storming across the room and kissing her. But he didn’t; he forced himself to finally drop his gaze. Only this time, he was the one shaking.

  ‘‘Tell me more,’’ he encouraged her softly.

  She stared down at the volume in her lap, methodically flipping the pages. ‘‘It’s not like this material is classified,’’ she rationalized in a husky voice.

  ‘‘Go on,’’ he urged seriously.

  She traced her fingertip over the page thoughtfully. ‘‘After powering up the mitres, Prince Arienn began to have strange visions. And he continued to have them for many years thereafter. Usually when he was tired or under duress, but sometimes at odd, waking moments.’’ She tapped the open page for emphasis. ‘‘In here, he describes experiencing something like memories. He could never scientifically explain or prove them, but he had a theory—that those impressions and sensations were actually his own memories, from a parallel dimension. He believed that when he used the mitres, he caused some kind of space-time rift.’’

  Shivering, Marco reached for his T-shirt where he’d discarded it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. Tugging it over his head, he caught Thea staring at his body, but forced himself to focus on the conversation at hand.

  ‘‘So, let me get this straight: Prince Arienn never used the mitres, he just powered it up?’’

  ‘‘He seeded’’—she hesitated, struggling for words—‘‘some of his essence into the device. Jared says his energy is still inside the coiling unit, even now.’’

  ‘‘Our lord’s been inside the mitres chamber?’’

  ‘‘Yes, the night he unlocked the codes—he entered the chamber brie
fly, and that’s when he saw the prince’s energy inside the unit. It had faded to a soft green, not the usual bright glow of our kind, but it was there.’’

  Marco nodded thoughtfully, unable to stop thinking that the woman before him had another identity, one much more primal and powerful; it was a deeply unsettling thought. All the more because the notion of seeing her natural form caused a sharp tightening in his groin. He pushed his knees together, hoping she wouldn’t see the way his boxers tented upward sharply as a result of their discussion. ‘‘He was a dual being,’’ he finally said. ‘‘Like you.’’ In All’s name, why should the thought of her true nature turn me on like this? he wondered, lustful thoughts fogging his mind.

  ‘‘Yes, I’m a dual being,’’ she admitted, bowing her head. ‘‘I-I don’t . . . well, it’s not something most people understand.’’

  ‘‘I’m trained to understand everything about you, Thea.’’

  She nodded. ‘‘Arienn left some of his energy there, and he thought that—even without actually traveling through time—his act of doing so had somehow altered the future. Enough so that it created a universe parallel to the one he lived in.’’

  ‘‘What did you see tonight, Thea? While we watched each other in the bar?’’

  ‘‘Me, in your arms.’’ She grew pensive, troubled, deep blotches of color staining her fair cheeks. ‘‘You said I wasn’t capable of love,’’ she admitted softly. ‘‘And I guess that I wasn’t—not in that timeline.’’

  ‘‘Are you capable of love?’’ he whispered, his eyes riveted on her.

  ‘‘Many in this camp don’t think so.’’ Nothing could have contained his surprise when shining tears filled her eyes.

  ‘‘I don’t believe them.’’

  She flinched visibly, dropping her head. Marco’s intuition detected a great deal of pain in the woman. Some bastard has broken her heart! What kind of fool would let her get away?

  ‘‘Thea,’’ he commanded gently. ‘‘Come over her. Right now.’’ He indicated the place on the bed beside him. ‘‘You’re upset—tonight’s been hard on all of us.’’

  ‘‘I’m fine.’’ But she didn’t seem fine; she seemed anything but all right.

  ‘‘There’s something I can do to help you, but you need to come sit beside me.’’

  She snorted ironically. ‘‘I’ve heard a lot of come-on lines in my time, but that’s a new one: ‘There’s something I can do to help you.’” Again she laughed softly, wiping at the tears in her eyes.

  ‘‘Just because another man hurt you doesn’t mean I can’t help you.’’

  Her head jerked upright, her eyes widening. ‘‘That’s none of your business,’’ she told him coolly.

  ‘‘Thea, you’re safe with me.’’ Again, he touched the place beside him on the edge of the bed. ‘‘Now come here.’’ Even he knew he was dancing with fire, bringing this forbidden attraction between them to the fore, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He wanted her, and badly. But more than that, he wanted to offer her some kind of solace. The thought that she loved another man—one who had broken her heart and spirit—galled him to the extreme. And he knew he could take at least a glimmer of that pain away. His awareness of his gifts, what he could offer her, was almost more than he could stand.

  She rose to her feet, but didn’t take a step closer. ‘‘No unmated woman is safe in a man’s bed,’’ she argued in a shaky voice, ‘‘especially not with someone as dangerously beautiful as you.’’

  He flushed at the compliment, but was more concerned with gaining her trust. ‘‘I’ve managed to control myself for the past twenty-eight years—I can survive a little while with you beside me.’’

  She gave him a suspicious look. ‘‘Controlling yourself how, precisely?’’

  ‘‘With women,’’ he told her honestly. ‘‘All women.’’

  ‘‘You actually expect me to believe that you’re a virgin?’’ She laughed. ‘‘Please, I’m no fool.’’

  He extended both hands in a placating gesture. ‘‘Believe it or not—that’s up to you, Lieutenant.’’

  ‘‘Then you’re . . . what? You must be—’’

  ‘‘I’m Madjin,’’ he finished uncomfortably. No woman had ever questioned his sexual orientation. ‘‘We aren’t allowed to take lovers.’’

  ‘‘None among you beside Sabrina is mated?’’ she asked, aghast. ‘‘What about Anika and Riley?’’

  ‘‘They were bonded—not mated—and for a purpose. So they could communicate intelligence and information.’’

  ‘‘That’s very romantic.’’

  ‘‘Actually . . .’’ Trying to explain his adopted brother’s mad, intense love affair with his lifemate would be a difficult task. ‘‘They were bonded to one another at age twelve. There was no choice about it, so you’re right—that’s not very romantic, I suppose.’’

  ‘‘But they are lifemates?’’ she persisted.

  ‘‘There are a few bonded among us, but it serves a greater good. We’re told to remain pure, alone. Servants.’’

  ‘‘So the Madjin keep you alone, too. Like a monk?’’

  He grinned at her. ‘‘I’m no choirboy, Thea. Trust me about that, but still, despite’’—he paused, staring into her eyes meaningfully—‘‘all that we’ve both felt tonight, you really are safe with me.’’

  ‘‘Gods, I crave safety.’’ She blew out a long, tortured sigh, carefully crossing the distance that separated them. ‘‘And for whatever reason, being with you does feel right. Not safe exactly, but . . . absolutely right.’’

  ‘‘Good. That’s good,’’ he soothed as she settled beside him on the bed. ‘‘Just relax, okay?’’

  She nodded and he brushed her long hair away from her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs along her graceful neck. He let them travel slowly, and with each touch he opened himself to her a bit, allowing peace to flow to her. He wasn’t a healer exactly, but this was something related to his intuition he could offer. His eyes drifted shut, and he formed an image of a meadow, long grass waving slowly in a warm summer breeze, something he’d seen years ago with Sabrina and fixed on as an image of peace. He willed the picture and its accompanying sensations to blanket Thea, and somehow he sensed her relax beneath his touch. Relax . . . yet come alive. A strange, heady mixture of emotions that awakened instantly within him, as well.

  Green grass swaying . . . golden sunlight playing on the field . . . peace . . . comfort.

  She sighed softly, her head bowing beneath his touch.

  How was it possible to feel someone setting you on fire, and yet become drowsy and serene all at once? Somehow that was precisely what Marco’s gentle touch was doing to Thea’s body. She was awash with desire for him—it was spiraling crazily, but she didn’t understand exactly what was happening to her, not at all. And she was so very tired . . . needed to sleep. Had to. So she decided to lie down, only for a moment, and curled up on her side.

  ‘‘I’m just going to close my eyes a minute,’’ she said, nestling her head into his soft pillow.

  ‘‘Sure,’’ he breathed in the darkness, and she felt him settle beside her in the small bed. Her back was to him, and yet she was keenly aware of his warm body only a few inches behind hers. She wished he’d touch her some more, hold her, but the urge to sleep was just too overpowering.

  Marco exhaled heavily as Thea’s breathing changed, becoming soft and even. He should never have touched her like this, and it was damn sure that he should never have used his intuition to ease her burdens. It had wiped her out completely, and now he was stuck in an agonizing—and potentially compromising—situation. She was asleep in his bed, and all he had on were his boxers and a T-shirt. And the evidence of how powerfully she’d aroused him was pressing urgently against his soft cotton underwear. If she were to move any closer, she’d feel his rock-hard erection. Carefully, he snaked his hips a bit farther back from her, and sighed as he collapsed heavily against their shared pillow.

  This was sheer ago
ny, lying beside Thea in his bed like this, her muscular legs nearly grazing against his. Her thick, luminous hair spilled across his pillow, tickling his nose, and her scent was unbelievable—dancing across all his senses, awakening something in him. Closing his eyes, he tried to still his body’s reaction to her. He knew he couldn’t act on this insane attraction. As one of her protectors, his behavior was completely inappropriate. But that did nothing to ease his body’s awakened reaction to the woman.

  You’ve got to separate yourself from her. You’re Madjin; she’s D’Ashani. Back off, you fool.

  And yet he couldn’t. He absolutely couldn’t break away from what he’d begun.

  It wasn’t that the Madjin weren’t allowed involvements, but rather that unions were discouraged, silently frowned upon, because the heart had a way of encumbering fast decisions. That’s what made this attraction to Thea so potentially lethal.

  Her hair spilled across his pillow like spun gold, and he ached to run his hands all through it, just to know what it would feel like beneath his fingertips. Marco deliberated for a long moment, then very gingerly took a silken lock within his hand. He closed his eyes, feeling it beneath his fingertips, wishing this attraction could actually lead somewhere. He drew the lock to his lips, kissing the end softly, and prayed to All that he could be strong enough to let her go.

  Suddenly, Thea stirred a bit, and rolled to face him in her sleep until she lay only a breath away from him. Her lips were close enough to kiss, and her thigh was dangerously near his erection.

  He closed his eyes because he could hardly breathe, and yet panted heavily at the same time. He’d never been this close to any woman—not like this, in his bed, wearing only his boxers. Sure, he’d kissed a few girls when he was younger, but he’d never let anyone very close for fear of exposure, the threat of their knowing he wasn’t human. He’d certainly never invited any of them into his bed. He was everything he’d claimed to be—a virgin, unmated and untouched on a genuinely intimate level. But he knew it wasn’t just having a woman in such intimate proximity; it was Thea, pure and simple. Somehow they were connected, and deeply.