Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers)

by Adele, Danube

  I noticed the blanket wrapped around me was absolutely magnificent. It was silky soft, mostly forest green, though there were sunbursts of burnt oranges, reds and browns sparsely woven in, creating a beautiful image. It had intricate stitches in a pattern of an animal. After looking at it more carefully, I realized it was that same magnificent bird of prey from the glass vial hanging on his neck. It must have taken hundreds of hours to plan and make.

  “Ryder, this is amazing,” I breathed, running my fingers over the pattern more gently.

  “My grandmother made it.”

  “It’s so soft. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like butter. What is it made from?”

  “It’s a special, rare sun plant that we call sele’tuen. My grandmother has spent her life nurturing fields of this plant species. Very few others have been so successful in growing them. It requires special care. Patience.”

  “She spins her own yarn?”

  “Spins it, dyes it, plans the designs and weaves it.”

  “What a wonderful gift.”

  “Everyone in our family has their own. My grandmother waits for a sign from our...” He frowned, as though looking for a word and not finding it in English. “In our world, I would call him Pere’seiunat. Like a spirit animal.”

  “Is this your spirit animal?” I noted the large talons outstretched in attack mode and traced the outline gently. “I saw this on your necklace.”

  “He belongs to the people of my province. My grandmother has the ability to commune with the spirit who protects our people.”

  “With the spirits?”

  “Pere’seiunat came to her in a dream and revealed his warrior essence to her. That’s when she knew what image to place on my spirit mantle.”

  “Well, it’s wonderful,” I slurred, appreciating the heat beginning to radiate through my body. The alcohol was kicking in.

  “I figured you’d be able to handle this situation better if you were relaxed.”

  “Okeydokey.” I sighed, feeling carefree. I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Mission accomplished.”

  His lips curled, and his eyes warmed as brief humor crossed his face. “I can see that.”

  A surge of tenderness twisted my insides again, but this time I didn’t cringe from it. What I wanted to do was thank him for taking care of me, since he always seemed to be rescuing me from something or other, and then I wanted to assure him that I didn’t usually lead such an exciting life, and that I wasn’t typically this much of a pain in the ass.

  What I actually said though was “You’re really super nice.” A hiccup snuck up on me. Belatedly, I covered my mouth, with wide eyes and a giggle.

  “Taylor...” It was like he couldn’t stop himself. He gave me a crooked grin, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  But I didn’t know what to do with that. What would Cynthia do?

  “I think I gave you too much durma.”

  “No, really.” I hiccuped again and frowned at myself for interrupting before continuing. “This is not the alcohol talking (hiccup). Well, maybe it is a little, but really. You act like such a tough guy all the time, with your tough-guy look (hiccup) and your tough-guy muscles and your tough-guy motorcycle, but I’ve (hiccup) got your number.”

  His eyes had become riveted on me. They turned slumberous. “You do?” He set both boots flat and leaned forward. “What’s my number?”

  For a moment I was mesmerized by his beautiful eyes staring into mine and forgot what I’d been talking about. Hiccup. “Number?”

  He reached for my hips and pulled me halfway across the couch toward him, blanket and all, until our faces were inches apart. My heart pounded with excitement at his ability to physically manipulate me. “You said that you had my number.”

  “I do?” Did I have his phone number? It was hard to think when I couldn’t tear myself away from his green eyes. “I didn’t mean his phone number,” I mumbled to myself, still caught in his gaze. Hiccup. That’s right. I was starting to figure him out. “I do have your number. You are actually a...do-gooder...a...a Good Samaritan under all that tough-guy stuff. You needed to save someone, and for some reason, I seem to need saving a frickin’ lot these days.” Hiccup.

  “You don’t make it easy,” he said gruffly, turning serious, and I knew he was remembering what had happened to me earlier. He gently picked up a lock of curling golden-brown hair where it had escaped my faux updo.

  “I don’t?” I got goose bumps from his light, fleeting, inadvertent touches against my skin.

  “You’re a frustratingly stubborn woman.” The growl came back to his voice, and I liked it. I could almost feel myself purring.

  “I am?”

  “Good thing I know one or two of your kind.” His eyes were following the movement of his fingers.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He leaned closer. In that growly, sexy voice he said, “Open your mind to me, lin’de.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “You make me crazy,” he ground out in a rough whisper.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Count on it.”

  Wicked heat, swirling desire and naughty thoughts came tumbling through my mental barriers, winding around us deliciously as Ryder’s lips hovered just a hairsbreadth from mine. I could feel his warmth. I could smell his masculine scent, a scent that was making me wanton.

  The anticipation built a fever.

  His lips lightly brushed mine once...twice...scorching me with each touch, driving heat to private places, but I needed so much more. Ryder, please.

  What do you want? The husky sound of his voice wove through my mind. He’d dropped his walls to whisper intimately into my mind.

  I want your lips.

  His lips took mine fiercely; searing pleasure sizzled through my veins. It was hot. It was wild. With a muffled cry, I grabbed handfuls of his thick black hair, holding him to me where I wanted him most. I nibbled his delicious bottom lip as I’d been dying to do, and he groaned roughly, crushing my breasts to his chest more forcefully as he lowered us both to the sofa. The feel of his weight on me was delectable, his hand squeezing my hip and waist. It was working its way to my breast, and I silently encouraged him. My nipples were hard and aching.

  Yes! Feels so good...

  Can’t get enough... His rough voice threaded through and around me, lingering.

  He ran his tongue over the seam of my lips, parting them then plunging, tasting dark and delicious. His tongue tangled with mine, ramping up the need that was quickly getting away from us.

  He pulled back abruptly, his breathing harsh, as he looked at me hungrily, the rough-hewn lines and planes of his face beautifully masculine and imperfect.

  “Ryder—” I tried to pull him back down.

  “Not like this, lin’de,” he said darkly, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of my head.

  “Why stop?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I am not.” My inner sex kitten was glaring at him through my eyes, feeling thwarted. Hiccup. Okay. Maybe I was a little toasted.

  “This will happen.” He spoke the vow as he looked into my eyes heavily. “Now be a good girl and turn on your side. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

  I knew he was trying to do the right thing, but honestly, did he really have to be such a Boy Scout?

  “Okay, fine. Tell me about this place,” I said with a sigh of exasperation. I turned to face away from him as he slid behind my back to spoon me (so glad it was a deep sofa) with his arm curled over my rib cage. I could feel his hot, hard arousal tucked against my bottom, and I wiggled against it for good measure. He hissed in my ear, staying my hips with one of
his heavy hands.

  I grinned secretly.

  “Be good.” He nipped my earlobe and kissed it.

  “You’re not playing fair.”

  He ignored that.

  “I’m one of the people of the north. We called our federation Sunan, which means seven. It’s made up of seven provinces, and the one we’re in is Milak, named for the ancestor who first led his group of followers to this land.”

  “What’s your daily language?”

  “Most of us learn English now. We’ve been partners of trade with nations on Earth for several hundred years, but for the last hundred or so, we’ve relied heavily on the U.S. There were numbers of wars over the course of time, which made trade a challenge in other parts of your world. Your nation has been consistently unchanged for the greater length of time in more recent history.”

  “That’s crazy. Why doesn’t anyone know about you?”

  “We don’t exactly have green skin or extra limbs.” He gave me a squeeze. “We’re very careful. A number of us have worked successfully on Earth for years. We have businesses established, connections, trade routes. A few of the Sunan who work in trade prefer to live solely on Earth, and there are a few from Earth who have come to live with us. Scientists, mostly. Scholars. Most people on your planet can’t know about us. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

  “So all of those people who claim to have been kidnapped by aliens for sexual experimentation were telling the truth?” Of course, there was a smile in my voice when I said this.

  His tone was dry when he stated, “Hardly.”

  “Can I volunteer?”

  “Taylor,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  “Okay, okay. Something safe. So what is this place where you live? It looks like a cave.”

  “I live in the Catacombs, over an old volcanic site.” The sound of his voice was hypnotic, and I could feel my lids growing heavy. “There is still geothermal activity, and it gives us access to natural hot springs, but the volcano is dormant. A number of us live here. The Catacombs have been lived in continuously for generations. We’ve found evidence of our earliest ancestors in some of the rooms that are now underwater.”

  “Kind of like a natural apartment complex with plumbing benefits. Are there any traditional neighborhoods like we have on Earth around here? You know, like Leave It to Beaver style?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Makes us too vulnerable. Over the last twenty or so years, we’ve blended our homes and businesses into the natural structures that make up our environment. It helps to keep us out of sight and protected. We build around the trees within our forests, within our caves carved out from erosion over time, within the hills and mountains that surround us. To the north, the homes have been built underwater. To have a home out in the open shows your enemies right where you are. It’s foolish. We learned our lessons in the past.”

  “When was the last time you guys were attacked?”

  “It’s been twenty-five years since we won our last battle, but there have been skirmishes over time, and more recently, acts of violence we are still investigating that cost hundreds of lives.”

  My eyes closed. “You guys sound like you’ve made yourselves prisoners. Don’t you all miss the sun? Freedom?”

  “Now you sound like my sister.” He sounded disapproving.

  “A sister. I always wished I had a sister. How many siblings do you have?”

  He paused a moment, and I caught sight of two different girls in his mind, one with dark hair and one with red. “Just one. Her name is Shandria.”

  He’d forgotten to up his mental shield, so I knew he wasn’t giving me the full story. It must have meant that something horrible had happened to one of them. “So how do I sound like her?”

  “She chooses to live outside the boundaries of the province as an outlier. For her own protection, she was sent to live there with my grandmother when she was a child, but as an adult, she refuses to return.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She has a house aboveground where anyone can know where she is and know what she’s doing. Anyone can get to her.” He scowled his frustration. “We’ve all tried to reason with her, but she refuses to move. She listens to my grandmother, who is also an outlier.”

  “The grandmother who made this blanket?”

  “The very same.”

  “Why is that so bad? Shouldn’t they be able to choose how they want to live? Women have been fighting for their rights for hundreds of years on my planet.” I giggled, hearing myself say that aloud. “My planet.”

  Ryder ignored my humor. “We have no way of protecting either of them.”

  “Can’t they protect themselves? Maybe use some of that mylunate to beam out or something?”

  “They choose not to have any, though my grandmother was offered its use by the high council, our governing body. She insists on using the transfer unit that was built near her region, saying the walk is good for her. She argues that if she doesn’t have it around, then there won’t be a reason for anyone to attack. So no, there are no defenses that would be strong enough to hold off even one Brausiian warrior. It’s well-known that the Brausa have vowed to exterminate every one of us.”

  “She must be important, if your government is trying to protect her.”

  “She’s highly important to our...spirituality.”

  There was so much. It was hard to process it all. Hearing Ryder talk about spirituality was showing me yet another facet of his personality. I wondered what this big, tough guy believed in, really.

  “So were you referring to your sister and grandmother when you said you were familiar with stubborn women?”

  “Yes. They play with their lives.”

  “But freedom’s important.”

  “Only if you’re around to use it.”

  “It must be nice to have a grandmother and sister.” It was the last thing I remembered saying before darkness settled in.

  Chapter Nine

  Powerful gusts of frigid wind were rushing over my body, but I wasn’t cold. I was feeling absolute exhilaration. Riding on the back of an amazingly large bird, I felt part of him, as free and limitless as the bird itself, able to predict the movements he was going to make. The powerful wings pumped effortlessly, creating the whump...whump rhythm of our travel, propelling us over the vast countryside. Dipping and coasting, we punched through cottony clouds, and pure joy spilled unfettered from my soul in great gasping peals of laughter at the magnificence of the experience.

  What a gift to be alive!

  I saw that the countryside was lush and green, vibrant with varying colors of wildflowers. There were beautiful forests amid the mountains, and beyond that, in the far distance, yellow hilly grasslands. They called to me! They looked soft and welcoming. They needed someone to lie down at the top and just start rolling sideways until a body was dizzy with silliness.

  Before long, a large lake sprawled beneath us, reflecting our rapidly soaring undercarriage, and I knew when I looked up, the two moons would be hanging, pretty as a picture, in the blue sky. To skinny-dip under the moonlight sounded sinfully sexy. What I wouldn’t do to get Ryder on board with that plan.

  Meeting him had changed my whole view on myself. Before, I would have considered myself a less sexual creature than many of the girls I’d known who gossiped about experiences in the ladies’, but lately, I’d had a number of creative wishes and fantasies that involved his beautifully sculpted body. Definitely wanted to try me some of that.

  Where are we going? I asked, running my hands affectionately over the downy, burnt-sienna feathers under my fingertips.

  I wasn’t even holding on. There was no fear of falling. My whole body felt enveloped in a cloud of protection, as though I were a cherished being to my animal friend.

 
; No words were spoken, but projected into my mind from my feathery companion was the understanding that someone was waiting for us and that we would be there soon. Within moments of this communication, I saw a little house in the distance. It was like an old farmhouse, with a wraparound porch and fields and fields of white, iridescent flowers, tall and swaying with the breeze, surrounding it.

  The flowers! That’s where they came from. So beautiful. There were rows and rows of them here. Magical. Shimmering. An energy field that wrapped around me with pure contentment. What a rush.

  How had they ended up in my dreams?

  Standing outside, at the bottom of the front steps, was an older woman. She was turned away from us, shading her eyes against the sun and squinting up at the sky with a frown. She seemed to be looking for something up high. She angled herself more toward us and relaxed.

  She waved and smiled, a gesture and expression I returned eagerly.

  Is this who we’re visiting?

  My friend told me that it was and wished me well. The next thing I knew, pretty seamlessly, I was in the middle of the field of flowers. The soft floral scent washed over me, almost like that of night-blooming jasmine. I aimed in the direction of the farmhouse. Skipping lightly, I bounced down the row of blooms, my arms outstretched like those of a tightrope walker, touching the soft petals as I went.

  Hallooo! Over here, dear!

  Finally at the edge of the field, I broke through the flower line into the front yard, where the older woman stood on a patch of wild grasses. A big, welcoming smile lovingly nurtured the creases around her eyes and mouth. I felt warmth humming through the air surrounding us and in every practiced line of her face. Her dark gray eyes peered out at me under a snowy white bun.