The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

He shrugged, a movement that brushed his shoulders against mine. Desire didn’t stir; it had no hope against the rising tide of trepidation. The longer I stayed here, instinct said, the greater the danger. But yet if I left now it would not only be out of character, but also suspicious to both Charles and Dream. I had to continue playing the game until it became absolutely necessary to do otherwise.

And it wasn’t as if this was the first dangerous situation I’d ever been placed in. My life during the war had always been a balancing act in which one wrong word or deed could have spelled the end—and very nearly had on more than one occasion.

“The ceremony was the first time I’d seen Julius in a while. He didn’t share details on her condition, and I didn’t think it polite to ask.” He placed his drink down on the table and then shifted to face me. “May I kiss you, Catherine?”

“Indeed you can.”

He immediately gathered me in his arms and did so. As kisses went, it was an ardent, urgent, but oddly desperate thing, and once again it was concern that stirred more than desire. Even weirder was the fact that despite this more intimate connection, I still wasn’t picking up anything other than vague smudges from his thoughts. He was definitely wearing some sort of charm.

And that meant, whether I wanted to believe it or not, he was here under Dream’s orders, even if he believed the request had come from Karlinda.

I eventually pulled away and then reached for a cognac—his, not mine. He smiled, picked up the other glass, and then clicked it lightly against mine. “To a desire that has not banked for either of us.”

I smiled and took a drink. He downed his quickly then

pushed to his feet. “Another?”

“Yes, thank you.” I drank the remainder and handed him the glass. If my drink had been spiked, then it would soon become apparent given how quickly he’d consumed it. He walked across the room, refilled the glasses, and then returned. If he’d slipped something into the drink the first time, he certainly hadn’t tried it the second. He handed me the drink and sat back down.

I took a sip and then we kissed again, no less urgently on his part and still with that odd edge of desperation.

For the next few minutes there was no sound, but this time, when we parted, an odd buzzing seemed to fill my ears, and my head was starting to spin. For one insane second, I thought it was lack of air, but then the reality hit.

My drink hadn’t been drugged. His had.

Once again Dream had been one step ahead.

“Oh, Charles,” I said, as he plucked the glass from my nonresistant fingertips and placed it back on the table. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

The disorientation was getting worse, and my breath was a now short, sharp pant of air. Whatever he’d given me, it was obviously a newer drug, not an older one. I took as deep a breath as I could in an effort to drop into a semitrance state, and reached for the healing magic to chase the drug from my system.

Only I couldn’t.

It wasn’t there. Or rather, it was, but I was unable to reach what was a vital part of my DNA.

Whatever I’d been given had basically placed a chemical wall between my psychic gifts and me.

“I’ve done what I had to do.” His voice was flat and yet held twin edges of anger and sorrow. “If you are innocent of the crimes Karlinda has leveled against you, then I ask forgiveness. But if you are not—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

I licked my lips and tried to ignore the roaring that was sounding louder in my brain. “Charles, Karlinda is not who you think she is. You have to believe me—you have to trust me—”

“I cannot,” he cut in. “Not when you threatened the lives of two people and have used your position as my lover to rob countless of my friends.”

Confusion ran through me. “In Rhea’s name, none of that is true—”

“I saw the security tapes,” he cut in fiercely. “You held a gun to that woman’s spine and threatened to kill her.”

Meaning there had been security cameras in that corridor even if I hadn’t seen them. “Yes, but not for the reasons you think. Charles, you have to listen—”

“No, I don’t.” He thrust to his feet, his movement filled with repressed anger and his eyes blazing. “You are not what you seem and this—you and I—is nothing more than a sham.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but no sound came out. In growing panic, I reached for Cat and Bear, not sure what they’d be able to do but not wanting to be alone.

But the mental lines were dead. Our connection had been severed right along with every other psychic skill.

I swore and tried to get up, tried to fight him and escape, but my flesh was unresponsive. The last thing I saw before unconsciousness took me was not Charles’s back as he opened the door, but rather Karlinda’s victorious expression as she stepped into the room.