Touch of Danger (Three Worlds)

by Strickland, Carol A.

  “Lon, I...” He’d entwined their fingers, and now she tried to unwind them. Too deep. Too much. Moon-in-Cancers fell all too easily. Don’t hurt him emotionally. “I know it’s not the right time to take a dose of the real world. Don’t worry; I won’t hold you to what you said.”

  He said it so it would sink in. “I love you. You love me.”

  “Look, Lon, it’s a whole new experience today. Sex and emotions—they get mixed up so easily. We’ve got to keep a handle on what the future holds.”

  His face tightened. Lina urged, “Just say that you’re enjoying it, that you’re caught up in it. Everything will change—I don’t know, tonight, tomorrow.”

  “You love me. Love me, Lina.”

  Those brown eyes of his blazed into her own, anxious, unsure and hurt. He was out of balance, too, and didn’t realize it. This was impossible! No one could ever love her—not Lina Muttbutt. “Lon, I don’t know what I feel.” She tried to sort it out, to give him something in return. “I like you very much. I respect you.”

  “Cold,” he muttered.

  “No, no.” She ran her hand over his wonderful chest and shoulders. “Very warm thoughts. But it can’t go farther than that. You know that. Skin-deep is all we have.”

  “And soon we won’t have that much.” He rubbed her hip. “So I can touch the outer you, but I can’t touch your heart in any way?”

  Her cheeks turned pink under his sweet offer. “I don’t want you to say anything in the heat of the moment that you’ll regret tomorrow.”

  “That’s too sensible, Lina. Live for the moment, because it’s all we have.” He pulled her head to his shoulder so she’d relax again. “Say you like me at least.”

  “So very much.”

  “Tell me why,” he teased.

  “You’re nice,” she said.

  “More.”

  “You’re handsome and nice. Handsome and nice and fearless. And funny.”

  “And...?”

  “And you have that romantic accent, Pepé.”

  “And...?”

  “And you have no need for ego-stroking.” She laughed. “You’re a silly-billy.”

  He tickled her and she giggled, and tickled her some more until she was forced to tickle back. They rolled there in the sand laughing and wrestling until he was on top of her, his hands holding her arms out from herself. His gaze locked onto hers, suddenly serious. Eyes wide, Lina caught her breath.

  “You’re still afraid of me. Trust me. That thing we did the first time, when we shared minds. I want to do it again.”

  She looked away. “That’s so private.”

  “What we’ve been doing is so private. I want to know you better.”

  “So let’s talk.”

  “It’s quicker this way. It’s deeper.” Lon realized what her main objection was. “Your mind is lovely, chérie. Don’t be afraid that I don’t like what I see there.” A glint flashed in his eyes and the edge of his mouth crooked. “Or is what you’re objecting to how ugly my mind—?”

  In astonishment she blurted, “How can you say that?! Your mind— It’s like, like a Doric column, beautiful and elegant and focused. I could lose myself in that.”

  “I want to lose myself in you.” His breath feathered her neck. He smiled when she closed her eyes with pleasure, and did it some more. “I’ve never known anyone like you. I want to know all about you. I want to have you in every way I can, while I can.”

  The hand on Lon’s arm clenched. “No. Bad idea.”

  “It was fantastic. I want to do it again.”

  He reached for her mind and after a moment she opened to him as he opened to her. They blended into each other, melting with golden lights and pastel colors dancing softly around them. Music played somewhere in an etheric realm. He felt her gentleness, her givingness, and she his overwhelming need. As he moved deeper within her, she made a tiny frightened sound.

  **I won’t hurt you, chérie. Let’s go a little deeper.**

  **Just a little, Lon. Remember tomorrow.**

  He tried something, merging his essence with hers as if he’d stepped into the same space she took up. All at once a whirlpool of emotions and attitudes engulfed them— Someone cried out; maybe both did.

  What they shared matched up and grew stronger: integrity, courage, focus, caring. They could taste the other’s abilities: Lon felt Lina’s connectedness to the ordinary world; Lina, Lon’s incredible self-confidence. Their respect for each other grew as much as their wonder. And the lo—

  **Too much! Londo!** Lina managed. She broke the connection abruptly, like ripping strong adhesive. It hurt. Some parts came with her; some didn’t quite disengage from him. She felt dizzy and incomplete. “Too deep,” she groaned.

  Lon rubbed his forehead as if he were coming out of a headache. “You can take it,” he growled. “That was... You—”

  “Look,” Lina told him, “you’ve got just a little time left and we haven’t done experimenting with touch.” She sat up and took a breath. “I know what all guys like. I’ve seen it done lots of times, but you’re going to have to coach me. How in the world do you start?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Um, ah. Oh hell. Fellatio. A blow job.”

  He blushed. It was a relief to see that he could blush at something. The irritation in his features turned to sharp interest as he sat up as well. “What do you mean, you’ve seen it done?”

  “Well, ah, it’s part of my job.”

  “I just got the impression that you were—some kind of graphic designer?”

  “Yeah, you could put it that way,” Lina replied weakly. “Very graphic.”

  “What’s that mean?” He searched the outer layer of her mind— “You can’t be serious.”

  “Londo, I’m a pornographer.” She said it very quickly, as if he might not notice it that way. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s all very healthy and completely covered by the First Amendment.”

  Londo gave what sounded like a hiccup.

  Lina bulled it through. “I’m in charge of putting out an adult products catalog. Midnight Delivery, have you heard of them? We’re on-line, in the mail and on satellite, everything legal,” she repeated, “and fairly respectable. Plus I review X-rated movies on the side, to help pay for the extras in life—like groceries.”

  He slapped his knees as he laughed uproariously. “You! I don’t believe it.” A thought hit him. “Lina... last night you were still—”

  “A virgin. They didn’t have a warning on the job application: ‘No virgins accepted.’ I got in. And I’ve helped sales hit record levels time and time again, so there,” she added in defiance. “I guess it takes a subconsciously frustrated virgin to turn out really good smut. That was part of the reason why I took the job in the first place, to learn more about sex. I knew I’d never learn any other way.”

  Lon began to chuckle again and despite his best efforts, it turned into giggles. “I love it, I love it. It’s so efficient.”

  “Obvious question...”

  “Can you get me a catalog?”

  “Everyone asks me that. Yes, I can. You can even use my employee discount.”

  He nuzzled her hair. “Great. I think we can put it to good use,” he said with an occasional giggle.

  Lina realized that they were talking as if they would still be together tomorrow or the day after that. But those powers would come back soon. “I need instructions,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Instructions?”

  “For the fellatio.”

  “Ah. D’accord, no need to rush.” But they did, trying to fit everything they could into what time they had.

  They spent time just touching each other, trying out the feels. Lon would rub her earlobe between his thumb and forefinger and then he’d press so gently on her lips. Her chin and cheek fascinated him with the firmness and then softness so close together. He explored all of her thoroughly.

  But he was such a wonder to touch as well, t
he hard muscles under the tight covering of skin, rougher than her own. Such broad shoulders, the landscape of his chest, the surprising roundness of his butt.

  Even more different was just being held, secure and safe. She could wind herself so deeply in that that she never wanted to find her way back.

  Lina curled a lock of his hair around her fingers as she continued her exploration. “Do you mind me touching you like this?” she asked.

  “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

  “Sometimes you seem to draw back.”

  “I’m fine. I love you touching me, I love the way you touch. It’s just that I’ve never been touched like this. If I can feel something at this level, it’s usually trying to kill me.”

  “I’m not,” she murmured, “believe me.” He chuckled at that and she continued to investigate him.

  Londo closed his eyes so he could better feel her exploration. Such a curious but tentative touch, like her mind. He hummed softly in time with the tide and realized that she hummed along in occasional harmony. Don’t let this end yet, God. Not yet.

  But— But— The world began to spin faster again as those sweet, tiny kisses and licks brushed his belly. Her fingers trailed slow lines up above his knees now.

  No. He pulled her up to lay beside him.

  “Let’s take a break,” he said, trying not to make it sound abrupt. “Figure this out. How the hell did you get us here? Instant teleportation for you. Instant telepathy for me.”

  Lon gazed anywhere but her, at the early-morning clouds rolling across the sky. “And here I am without my powers. Do you think that that may be why I have telepathy? That I suddenly developed it for survival...” He considered. “Or maybe to be better equipped to deal with you? To convince you to...” The sentence hung in midair.

  “If that’s true, then I became a teleporter because of the danger. I wanted to run. But why should it happen to both of us at the same time?” She shook her head.

  “Evolvo-rays,” Lon murmured.

  “Don’t quote me on that.”

  “Stranger things have happened, Lie.”

  “Stranger than this? Powers appearing, an entire population disappearing—oh, god, Londo...” She raised up, her eyes wide on his.

  With a reassuring smile Londo chuckled her under the chin. “I definitely do not believe that you’re responsible for the disappearance of an entire island of people. I bet that turns out to be very explainable, logical—even ordinary.” But it was a possibility. He filed it in the back of his brain for later.

  She settled on his shoulder. “If you say so. I don’t believe in coincidence anyway, but right now the amount of coincidence is piling up too high to be... coincidental.”

  “Maybe the telepathy for me was a side-effect of the bazooka Terry hit me with.”

  “But I wasn’t hit by it, Londo. That doesn’t explain me.” She paused. “Could we be, I don’t know, in the Timeless Realms and not know it?”

  “The Timeless Realms?” He rubbed his nose and frowned.

  “Impossible things happen there, right?”

  “Yes, but not like this.” He cocked his head at her. “I’ve been there. You haven’t.”

  Lina sucked in her breath in wonder. She kept forgetting that he was Valiant, with a lightyear’s experience away from her own mundane world. “What are they like? Did you see magick? What kind of people live there?”

  Lon shifted to tell the tale in comfort. “I’ve been there twice. Once because they were having a huge forest fire, and the other time to help them rebuild from an earthquake. It’s not someplace you can visit any day, Lina. Those Scythians guard that Gateway very fiercely. People along the Borderlands inside don’t trust us at all. Even the Green Mage can be hostile. He claims that Outerworlders are imperialists just waiting to conquer the Realms.”

  “Aren’t there supposed to be places where you can just find yourself in the Realms without going through the Gateway?”

  “Like a faerie tale, you mean?” Lon considered. The Green Mage could pop up in the most unexpected places...

  Lina asked, “Isn’t that where faerie tales and myths come from anyway? The Timeless Realms?”

  Lon scratched his head and then he scratched hers with a quick grin. “I’ll tell you what all this reminds me of,” he said. “There was this girl. This beautiful princess.” He glanced quickly at Lina and then back into the distance. “With beautiful green eyes to match the beautiful girl. And she lived in the Timeless Realms.”

  “Why do I think you’re making this up?”

  “Hush. Anyway, this princess wakes up one day and everything’s all crystal clear, not misty like it usually is in the Realms. And she hears horns, car horns outside her palace window, and people yelling and cursing at each other, and a whooshing sound, and she looks and there are metal tubes with wings flying through the sky. And she says, ‘Oh goodie, I’ve fallen through a doorway into the Outer World!’”

  “Can they do that, too?” Lina asked.

  Lon waved her off. “Don’t interrupt; I’m telling the story. Of course they can, or they should be. It only makes sense that a hidden doorway would go both ways. Where was I?”

  “The princess is in the Outer World.”

  “Not just the Outer World, but in Montreal,” Lon continued. He told Lina of how the princess went out exploring and met a policeman in the building next door who showed her the magic of the Outer World and saved her from dangers she didn’t expect. How she realized that she didn’t belong there and longed for her home. The policeman helped her find her doorway back, and they bade each other a tearful adieu before she left forever.

  Lina drew a design on his chest with air. “I wish that he had kept her with him,” she said. “Why couldn’t the story have a happy ending?”

  “Who said it didn’t?” Lon asked. “Who says that the princess didn’t go home and find happiness?”

  “I suppose. It’s just that things usually don’t turn out well in the real world.”

  “Tell you what. The next time I tell it I’ll have the policeman go into the Realms. Maybe he’ll have an adventure.”

  “You should write it down,” Lina told him. “You tell a very good story, Lon.”

  “I’ve got a million of ‘em,” he said with a faraway smile.

  “Then you should write a book. If they’re all that good, people would want to read them.”

  “Uh huh. Valiant writes children’s books.”

  “So use a nom de plume if you think that people won’t be able to read past your name. Oh—and hire some sleazy-looking guy for the shot of the author, with a big ol’ bushy beard, and craggy eyebrows. Don’t forget the eyepatch.”

  Lon laughed at that. “Eyepatch.”

  “You never know what that eye’s doing under there. He could go on talk shows and pretend he’s the author. Give him an interesting background, you know, son of gypsies who worked for too long on an oil rig in the North Sea, traveled to Atlantis on weekends...”

  “Where he swilled ancient aged octopus ink with willing mermaids,” Londo grinned. “I like it. Captain Miller, we’ll call him. Scourge of the North Coast. Arr. Lock up yer kiddies, mate, Cap’n Miller’s been spotted out in th’ bay.” Londo lay there smiling at the sky. “Maybe so. Maybe I’ll try it.”

  “It’ll work. I do know a little about marketing.”

  “Apparently. Tell you what, when we get back I’ll hire you as Cap’n Miller’s publicist.”

  That made her laugh. “I’ll get someone to ban the book. That way everyone will run out to buy it.”

  “Such a devious brain! I like you, Lina. I like the way you think.”

  He put his arm around her and told her one of Cap’n Miller’s adventures then, how he sailed the world round on his flying ship that could dive to the bottom of the ocean when it needed to because it wasn’t just covered with barnacles, it was one big barnacle, able to trap a huge bubble of air with it when it dove.

  Now Lon rubbed his
face with his hand. “Ah, why’d you do that?” he asked her. “You got me started on those crazy stories.”

  “Magical,” Lina said. “Imaginative.”

  “Whatever. I shouldn’t have talked about water so much,” Lon said, getting up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He trotted off to the forest and Lina turned her back.

  She tried not to cry though her heart turned inside-out. She had lost him.

  Chapter 12

  It was bound to happen, she reminded herself. She had thought that they might have this day together. Well, she was wrong. Even the world’s most desperate man couldn’t keep an interest in Lina Muttbutt for more than—how many hours had it been?

  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about protecting his heart. The old Muttbutt curse had done that for her.

  She made a quick, bitter swipe at her eyes and then looked around for something—anything—to divert her. Her nightgown lay sprawled on the sand, white as the day she’d bought it. It showed not a trace of black dye, yellow dust or green vegetation stains. Too bad the shoulder strap wasn’t fixed as well.

  Lina pulled a long vine off a tree and morosely twisted it back on itself, plaiting it with the strap. After she tested it for strength, she put the gown on, drawing her hair out of it. She could make another tie for her hair with a vine, maybe. It had gone all frizzy and needed braiding.

  “Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?!”

  Lina twisted at the sound of his voice. Naked at the edge of the forest, he stood staring at her, his brows drawn into a frown.

  She tried to sound peppy. “It’s time to be up and about, isn’t it? I suppose you’ll be wanting to go find Terry Whatsherface today,” she said and turned away from him. She took his silence as affirmation.

  “We’re staying here,” he finally said. “I’m in no condition to find Terry.”

  “I’d say you were in fine condition to find her.”

  “What?”

  “Look, Lon, you don’t have to be nice to me. You don’t owe me anything,” she said. She sank to her knees on the sand, staring into nothingness. She didn’t feel brave anymore, just lost. “I’ve known all my life I’m not what men look for when they want a woman. And I know you’re Valiant and I’m nobody. So just go out there without me and I’ll bet someone finds you and takes you to her. You can still have that day you can remember, but with her and not me.”