Hold Me If You Can

by Stephanie Rowe

  “I’ve only influenced Dullets before, and they tend to be men who are weak, and they want to feel like a man. So, when they feel my power, they like it, because it’s more than they’ve ever felt before. But with you…”

  Okay, that was a better slant. The other men were weak who couldn’t feel like a man on their own. “But I’m not like them.”

  “No.” She tilted her head. “You felt like I was stealing your power.”

  Shit. She was dead right. He had felt like that. “Wow. Did you see that move?” He gestured randomly at a car that had just whizzed by, trying to distract her with traffic. What? Like he was going to admit that she’d scared the crap out of him? That might even put him lower on the manly scale than the wusses she’d empowered.

  “So, that’s why you wouldn’t let Ella talk to you,” she observed. “You’re afraid—”

  “I’m not afraid,” he growled. There were some things a man simply had to defend himself against, and being classified as “afraid” was one of them. “Here’s the deal. For the last one hundred and fifty years, the one thing I’ve been able to claim for my own is my mind. They fucked with my body, they stole my freedom, they manipulated my powers, and still are apparently, but they never got to my mind.” He pulled out onto the highway, and then gunned the engine.

  He needed to get fast, get out, feel the speed.

  “But I did.” Her voice was quiet with understanding, with empathy. “I got into your mind.”

  He rubbed his hand over his whiskers. Yeah, still had them. He was still a man. “You got close.” Had she actually gotten there? It felt like she had.

  “I felt it. We were connected.”

  He heard the concern in her voice, yeah, but there was also a hint of awe. Of amazement. She had her feet up on the dash and was hugging her knees, a thoughtful expression on her face. She wasn’t one of the women from the Den, and she had no desire or intention to hurt him. The only reason she’d been able to get to him was because he’d empowered her, and he’d made the conscious choice to let her in. It had been a team effort. Yeah, he’d been unprepared for the sensation of her in his head, but it was okay. He was still who he was. And she was still Natalie.

  She’d done exactly what he’d asked of her, despite her deep fear of tapping into her sensuality. And what had he done? Panicked instead of taking advantage and encouraging her to raise her weapons to an even higher level. She was his partner, and she’d done something extraordinary that just might save their asses, and it was time for him to act like it. He touched her hand. “What you did back there was good. Really good.”

  She set her hand over his and smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  “Just don’t do it again.”

  She laughed then, a sound that was relief and happiness. “I will direct all my powers of suggestion toward other hapless souls.” She grinned. “Seriously, if I could command you, then I could tell a deedub not to attack me. Think of the freedom!”

  “You were impressive,” he agreed. Enough to defeat Mari? Who the hell knew what it would take to defeat Mari? If she’d become as powerful as Angelica, it would take luck, the alignment of the universe, and some damned good fortune on his part. Translation: killing Mari would be impossible.

  But to shut her down enough to rescue Pascal and Blaine, and cut off the delivery of smut into Natalie’s soul?

  Well, he was sane now. Able to avoid art and still keep his head clear enough for battle. Even if Natalie didn’t repeat what she’d just done, it would be enough.

  Mari was going down.

  Together, they were going to do it.

  And when she squeezed his hand, he knew that she was feeling the same optimism.

  For the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, they both had a chance to control their own destiny. And damn, it felt good.

  ***

  The dream genie was back, and he was rocking this world!

  “Charlie? You awake?’

  Charles Morgan straightened his new suit jacket and turned toward the door as the knob turned and in strolled the magnificent female that was feeding him powers in ways she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

  Mari was followed by a young woman pushing a wheeled chair in which was strapped a massive male of the warrior persuasion. The male was alert, and smoke was rising from his skin where the stainless steel chains were locked down on his bare skin.

  Not a grimace of pain from the stoic hero.

  “Right here, Danielle.” Mari gestured her assistant to a stop. “Charlie, this is Pascal. He’s the one you’re going to practice dream-purging on today.”

  Danielle set her hands on her hips. “Mari, this isn’t right. You have no right to steal dreams from these men.” She shot an accusing look at Mari as she grabbed a napkin from Charlie’s dinner tray and wedged it under one of the chains to protect Pascal’s forearm from the steel. “You said that the torture was over. It was all lies?”

  “It’s not a lie,” Mari protested. “Pascal is here for you. I want you to get his love, Danielle. That’s why we’re here.”

  Danielle looked over at Pascal, who was glaring at the women with a combination of quiet stealth and a hint of amusement, as if he knew something the women didn’t know. “You want to set me up with Pascal?” Danielle asked. “But he’s… I hardly know him.”

  “You don’t think he’s sexy?”

  The maiden’s cheeks turned pink as Pascal cocked an assessing look at her. Yes, yes, the warrior definitely had some sort of plan. “Well, yes, I guess,” Danielle stammered. “But that’s not how it works. You can’t lobotomize him into loving someone—”

  “Stop!” Oh, for all that was a waste of good time. People not living in the vortex of his vision were just a drain on his brilliance. Charles had no time for the emotional bickering of those with fragile personal auras. He was a man on a mission, and he needed to hone his skills.

  Mari was studying him as if he’d gone insane. “I need to take more smut off you, don’t I?”

  “Nonsense. I am fit and amazing and fantastic.” He flexed his palms. “Just aggravated by non-visionary peons.”

  Mari touched him with her wand anyway, and his whole body lurched as sunlight, excitement, and freedom surged through him. He did a backflip and landed sprawled on his back on the ground, twitching uncontrollably. “Wow. That’s more of a rush than peeing on an electric fence.”

  She smiled down at him and tucked the baton back under her arm. “I’m just helping you out, big guy.”

  “I appreciate it!” He bounced to his feet, feeling a thousand years lighter. There was less of the thick, dark hair on his arm, and his fingers were straighter. But most importantly, his soul felt different. Lighter. Like he owned it. “Let’s do it, Mari!”

  “You got it.” Mari strode across the room, fired up the computer, and turned on the PowerPoint. “Okay, Danielle and Pascal. I want you to sit back and watch the show.”

  Charles reclined his La-Z-Boy, grabbed a beer from his minifridge, helped himself to the bag of chips, and put on his fuzzy slippers. “Yes, yes, let’s begin.” How delicious did he feel? Hardly any smut holding him back. Life was so grand! He was the man!

  Mari set a tray on Pascal’s lap and handed one to Danielle. “Hold it in front of you.”

  “What are we doing?” Danielle asked, standing in front of the warrior, as if she could protect him.

  So very cute. And naive, but cute.

  “Just watch.” The lights went out, and the presentation began. First up,” Mari said. “We have an image of a double chocolate fudge brownie with chips. It is warm out of the oven and smells like the decadent warmth of cocoa. It will melt in your mouth—”

  The image of a fudge brownie flared in Danielle’s mind. It glowed bright and powerful. Pure unfettered longing without any baggage.

  Bingo.

  Charles tapped it a split second before guilt about the fit of her new jeans dimmed it. A gooey chocolate chip cookie appeared on the tray in front of Da
nielle.

  Shit. A fucking cookie? Where was the brownie?

  Danielle jumped back. “Where did that come from?”

  “Your mind,” Mari said. “Charlie’s not very good, but he’ll get there. Next.”

  Charles took another swing of beer and settled more deeply into his chair. “Don’t be frustrated,” he muttered to himself. “It always takes a little while to warm up.” Yeah, sure his pappy had always told him that any halfway decent genie didn’t need to warm up and could get it right from the start, but his pappy was a conniving bastard who thrived on squashing his son, so screw that.

  The next slide was of a harsh, penetrating sun in a brazen blue sky above a parched desert. The next slide was one of high noon on the Sahara Desert. There were pictures of bones scattered across the sand, and a man reaching out with an empty cup.

  Charles could almost feel the sweat dripping off the audience. The desire was being created.

  The image of a frosted pitcher of lemonade flashed on the screen.

  Mirror images of lemonade flared in the minds of both viewers, raw and desperate longing.

  Charles gritted his teeth and tapped both of them.

  Beer for the warrior and a pitcher of sangria for Danielle.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Mari snapped. “It’s not that hard, Chuck! They were both thinking of lemonade!”

  “Shut up.” Charles chugged the last of the beer. “Stop pressuring me, woman. You have no idea how the complexities of my power work.” Shit, shit, shit! How was he going to save the world if he couldn’t pull his shit together? “Next!”

  The next slide was of a climber on Mt. Everest sitting on an ice floe, with blackened and frostbitten fingers. And then a shot of dumbasses leaping off an iceberg into frozen waters wearing nothing but bathing suits.

  He shut out Mari droning on about frigid and cold things, ignored the picture of Russians huddled against the bitter cold. He focused on preparing for the moment. For the slide of the fuzzy, warm, fleece boots.

  He hit Danielle’s mind at the exact second the image appeared in her head. He threw all his force into it, then slammed her with power so extreme he felt his own head burn.

  Danielle screamed and flew back off her chair into the wall behind her.

  “Dear God! What did you do to her?” Mari raced across the room and knelt beside the girl. “Danielle? Are you okay?”

  Charles didn’t even have to look. He felt it. He’d aced it. He just sat back. Ate a chip. And waited.

  It took almost two minutes before he heard Mari gasp. “She’s wearing the boots!”

  He grinned. “And they’re her size, too.”

  “Wow.” Mari looked up. “You’ve never gotten it that right before.”

  Pascal didn’t move, but dark energy was pulsing off him with a force that made Charles just a wee bit happy the man was under lockdown. Charles rubbed his hands together, basking in the sensation of his power pulsing through him. He was back. Better than before. His power was surging, and it was time. “Fantastic. Bring the warrior forward. It’s time to work on him.”

  And it was.

  One mind, one soul, one heart… prepare to be stripped.

  Chapter 15

  Nigel glided the Mercedes up next to the pine trees caressing the entrance to the cave. He was pleased to see Christian was already there waiting for them. He parked the car and turned to Natalie. Her face was tense and her hands were fidgeting restlessly in her lap.

  He set his hand over hers and was rewarded with a brief flash of a smile. “Ready, Natalie?”

  “I’d rather be making virility balls and polishing the crystal for the inspection.” She peered out the window at the black opening of the cave. “You know, cleaning the toilets would probably be preferable as well.”

  Nigel grinned. “Cleaning toilets? I don’t believe you.” He squeezed her hand. “Fighting for your freedom and possibly having to seduce a manly warrior is much more fun.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she looked back at him. “I’m way too tense for seduction.”

  “I could take care of that in a heartbeat.”

  Her gaze flicked to his mouth, and suddenly the atmosphere in the car heated up several degrees. His hand tightened around hers and he bent forward and brushed his lips over hers. The spark was instant, and he grinned when she sucked in her breath.

  Oh, yes, he could turn her on in a heartbeat.

  “Hey!” Christian shouted and began walking toward the car.

  “There goes our chance for a make-out session,” he said ruefully as he trailed his fingers through her hair.

  “Good. I don’t like sex.”

  He laughed then. “Even with me?”

  She eyed him, but her eyes were sparkling again. “The correct answer would be yes, I don’t even like sex with you.”

  He grinned. “Too bad you can’t say it, can you?”

  She signed. “No.”

  He laughed at her obvious chagrin and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, I like kissing you, too. We’ll find a way to hate it, I promise.”

  She laughed then. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Neither do I, to be honest.” Christian was nearing, so Nigel forced himself to focus on the situation they were about to walk into. He’d managed to relax Natalie, and it was time to get into battle mode. He pointed past her at the opening in the hillside. “That’s our entrance point into the Den. It’s the Cavern of Murderous Poltergeists—”

  “Seriously?” She looked over at the cave with a cute grimace. “That seems a little melodramatic—”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not melodramatic. It’s highly accurate.” Nigel caught her arm, suddenly feeling apprehensive about taking Natalie into the Den. He already presented enough danger to her safety, and now he was adding more danger to her life? Shit. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. “Listen to me, sweetheart.”

  She met his gaze, those huge green eyes staring into his with such trust. “Okay.”

  He rubbed her arm, needing to touch her, to know she was safe. “Stay close so I can keep you safe. Your only job is to be near in case I snap and need to draw, okay? That’s it. Leave everything up to me and Christian, so we can protect you. Got it?”

  She nodded. “I’m completely okay with leaving hand-to-hand combat up to you.”

  “Thank you.” He grinned, relieved at the honesty in her voice. “We’re not going to engage in any extra battles. We’re going straight in to find Pascal and Blaine, to cut Mari’s ties to you, and then we’re out. Got it?”

  Her forehead furrowed. “How do you know where they are?”

  “We’ll find them.” Nigel kissed her hand once and then it was time. He shoved the car door open as Christian reached the vehicle. He climbed out of the car. “You good?”

  Christian’s skin was shiny, as if he were already morphing into metal. He walked up and slammed his fist into Nigel’s jaw. “You drew Blaine, you son of a bitch.”

  Nigel stumbled, caught his balance, and righted himself. But he didn’t raise a hand to Christian. “You spoke with Jarvis, I take it. He told you about Blaine and Trinity getting snatched.”

  “Yeah.” Christian’s arm flared with metal and he pulled a sword out of his skin. “We can’t risk it, brother. I’m taking you out.”

  “No!” Natalie scrambled out of the car and threw herself in front of Nigel. “Don’t—”

  “Hey!” Nigel yanked her behind him and pinned her up against the car. “Never, ever, put yourself in front of a blade again. Do you understand? That’s not acceptable!” His heart was pounding and blades were prickling beneath his skin, on his shoulders and back at the thought of her putting herself in danger. He couldn’t believe she’d done that. Hadn’t she seen the instability in Christian’s eyes? The man wasn’t thinking clearly, and he very well might have staked her. Nigel went cold at the thought and his grip tightened on her. “Don’t you get it? You need to stay safe. You’re important.”

  Her face
softened and she laid her hand on his cheek. “I’m okay, Nigel. I’m not hurt.”

  She wasn’t hurt. He bowed his head and felt the blades recede. “Don’t do that again.”

  She smiled. “I won’t—” Her attention went past his shoulder, and she tensed. “Nigel—”

  He spun around and blocked Christian’s sword as it came down toward his chest. “Christian. You’re not going back.”

  “Damn right.” Christian ripped his sword free. “There’s no chance—”

  “Hey!” Natalie shoved off the car, but she didn’t move into the line of battle. Good girl. “I worked on Nigel. He doesn’t need to draw now. You’re safe, Christian. It’s over.”

  Christian didn’t even look at her. “Nigel betrayed us.” He whipped out his sword, and Nigel pulled one out and met him halfway, playing defense only. The clang of blades was ominous and dangerous, especially given that they were friends.

  Nigel swore as Christian lunged again, at the betrayal on his friend’s face. “Yeah, I blew it. I know I did. But it won’t happen again. I’ve taken measures, and we’re going to get them out.” He sandwiched the blade up against Christian’s chest. “I’m not the enemy, big guy. You know I’m not!”

  “You drew them,” Christian growled. “You got them sucked back in—”

  “I know! Mother of hell, I know!” Nigel didn’t back down. “You don’t think Mari did that on purpose? She intentionally used my talents as a trap. She wanted to split us up. Come on, man! I don’t know what the hell happened to you in there, but don’t let them mess with you. We’re on the same team!” He shoved hard and sent Christian flying backwards into a tree.

  Christian stared at him in fury, then lunged for Nigel with a killing blow in his eyes.

  “You know who I am, brother.” Nigel let his own sword drop out of his hand and raised his palms in surrender. Natalie gasped behind him, but he willed her to trust him. She placed her hand on his back, but she didn’t interfere or get in the way. “If I was the enemy, I wouldn’t trust you, would I?”