"Yet you prefer to live among them, while your parents do not."
"Well, Myel has lived among them before, for short periods of time. I just . . . it feels like where I'm supposed to be, for now. I like it. They're very busy, you know? Active. Always something going on. But I do love the ocean and sky. They're active, too, in a different way. Pyel says I straddle the boundary between sky and water because I feel most balanced here."
After a brief hesitation, she shed the sleep shirt, revealing the fragile slope of spine and sweet curve of buttock. He still saw bruises fading under her skin, the result of the rift energy's bludgeoning, and her fight against the circle's shields in his world. Only a handful of days ago, he'd been in that world, the place he'd been all his life. Now he was here. He was certain in some ways it was a dream, only he could not have imagined some of the things in this dream, having never experienced them. The fragrance of the lotion she smoothed into her hands and on her face. The crumpled look of her clothes on the floor. The smell of salt water drifting in through the open window and the sound of the ocean. Even when he'd had the rift windows, sounds had been muted, distorted, and there'd been no ability to smell, taste.
She stepped into her undergarment, a quick hitch, then she was putting her arms into the straps of her bra, hooking and working it around to cradle her breasts. It commanded his attention, the erotic movements of her body performing such a simple task, the wriggle of her hips as she pulled on a skirt that hugged them, arching into a shirt that clung to her curves. The V-neck showed the valley between her breasts. He knew enough to know it was not a deliberately provocative outfit, but his palms heated with the desire to touch regardless.
Alexis twisted her hair up and stuck in a pair of dark shiny sticks topped with glittering sapphire stones to hold it. "All right. Why don't we go to my place, get you settled there? Is that all right, or is there something else you want to do right away?"
When she turned and faced him, color rose in her cheeks. "Other than that. I'd feel more comfortable being with you where I live. My parents may decide to stay here tonight."
Her gaze went to the wall behind the headboard. "I'm hoping they'll think they did that. The one advantage to having immortal and amorous parents."
Clearing her throat, she continued to stare fixedly at the headboard. "Can you stop looking at me like that?"
"Why? Because it makes you want to do exactly what I'm thinking?"
She shot him a narrow look. "You get a free pass on comments like that because you don't know what a smart-ass is. For now."
No image in her mind explained that, so he simply studied the enigma that was her. "Do you want to see my home?" she asked, a note of desperation in her voice.
"Yes."
Since he stood by the dresser at the stairs out of the loft, she had to draw closer. When she looked up into his face, touching his arm, it made the nerves under his skin ripple, his body tighten. But because she seemed determined to take him somewhere else, and he was curious to see more, he tried to mute his lust so she would relax.
"I won't take you to places with lots of people, not until you're used to them. And remember, you don't have to see and do everything at once. Whenever you get overloaded, or tired, just tell me, if I don't sense it up front. You're harder for me to read than most people."
She was still wondering if that was because of the interference of her own feelings, or something else. Since he had no answer for her and his mind was elsewhere, he put his hands on her hips, drew her closer to him. Her palms settled naturally on his chest as his fingers curved into the shirt, finding the tempting give of her body beneath. Her forefinger moved in a single stroke over the base of his neck. "It's going to be okay," she said.
"Alexis, I am not a child you need to reassure. Do you understand this?"
She frowned. "Now you sound like my father."
"Perhaps he and I agree on one thing, then. If something happens out there, and I feel threatened, you will not be wise to get between me and that threat."
"It may not be wise, but I'll do it, because nothing you're going to see today is a threat. I don't want you hurt by that collar rebounding, or have you accidentally hurt someone else. You have to trust me." Her fingers dug in a little, with insistence and sharp edges. The sudden set of her jaw was matched by the determination thrusting forward in her mind. "So if you're wise, you'll pull your punches."
"You will not command me," he said testily.
"It's not a command." She blew out a breath. "Geez, the testosterone factor. You do realize how much my father wants an excuse to obliterate you, right? We have to show him, prove to him, you can get along in this world without maiming, blowing away or ripping anyone's head off. I know you hate that. I know you're very proud, and you think by trying to get along you're somehow becoming a slave again."
He stepped back from her then. "Because you know my emotions, do not think you can dictate to me."
"I'm not trying to do that. Dante, it's going to take time for you to understand." Her fingers curled into tense balls at her side. He saw the jumble of thoughts in her mind, her struggle to describe what was beyond his immediate understanding. "You can be what you want to be here, as long as you don't harm others to be that."
He hooked the collar with two fingers. "You put this on me, which keeps me from being what I am."
"You let me," she said, though she flinched at the accusation. "Dante, you remember how you set up the circle shield to keep me in the chamber, until I understood why I couldn't leave it? To protect me when the Dark Ones came in?"
He nodded, reluctantly. "You want me to believe this is like that."
"It is." She stepped to him again and the return of her closeness was welcome, despite the discomfort her words were causing. Stopping between his boots, she tilted her head. "I understand about the collar. I know that pain won't stop you. It breaks my heart, knowing why that is. What you've endured. Those emotions are a well inside of you, and that well is way too deep and dark to go all the way to the bottom, even for me. But you worked so hard and long getting here. Can you have enough patience left to trust me a little, enough to get through today? That's n
ot so bad, right?"
He looked down at her. Pulling those sticks out, he made her hair tumble down onto her shoulders. He framed her face and brushed his mouth over hers, a brief taste. "I like your hair better like this."
"Then that's how I'll wear it." Her fingers made another shy pass near the base of his throat, a stroking. "Are you ready to go?"
"I am ready."
Sixteen
AFTER classes that day, Clara went to Lex's place, letting herself in with her key. It had become a daily ritual, hoping she was there, and embracing the tactile comfort of being among her things when she wasn't. The clothes they'd picked out together, the ugly footrest shaped like a huggable sea urchin. Lex had fallen in love with it at a dorm yard sale. The food in her cupboards included candy bars she kept specifically for when Clara came, as well as her favorite soda. She got one of each now and wandered back to Lex's bedroom, to the waiting pile of stuffed animals.
Clara desperately wished Lex had a cell phone so she could call and find out what kind of family emergency she'd had. Lex had always had a habit of disappearing for a few days at a time with no real explanation coming or going, so it wasn't the absence that had caused Clara's worry. Things felt okay now, but for the first several days she'd been gone, Clara had experienced such cold fear, she'd nearly lost her mind. Knowing that the police didn't look for an adult until forty-eight hours had passed, particularly one with a habit of disappearing, she'd had to settle for checking out all of Lex's normal haunts, asking who had seen her and who hadn't. Branson at the Conservancy hadn't, but again, Lex rarely kept a set schedule with them. When she was around, she was as regular as clockwork and immensely useful, so they'd adjusted to her periodic, unexplained absences the way everyone else who knew her did.
"I don't want to lie to you," Lex told her once. "You know my life is different from most. Please don't ask me to explain what I can't. I'll understand if that means you can't be my friend, but I hope that won't be the case, because I really need you to be."
The friendship had become a permanent bond, because Clara knew Lex meant to say "want," but "need" was closer to the truth. A lot of people considered themselves Lex's friends because of that vibe she projected, but they were too dazzled by the light to delve below the surface to find out what Lex truly liked or needed.