Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17)

“I love the night,” he confessed. “The peace of it.”

There was a slight breeze moving through the trees, just enough to ruffle the leaves and produce a music he recalled from his childhood. Enough to send her unique fragrance to him.

“Did you know that you have this incredible scent on your skin? I’ve never smelled anything like it. I noticed it immediately, when I first entered the cabin. It isn’t a perfume. It’s not your shampoo. It’s not even your soap. It’s really you. It’s very subtle and incredibly alluring, not that I want to sound like some crazy mountain man who’s been alone too long.” He tried not to fixate on her mouth when her lips suddenly curved into a smile.

“I smelled alluring? Rubin, I had been traipsing around in the woods all day.”

“Nevertheless. It’s a combination of coral honeysuckle and wild daffodils. Just barely there. I doubt if anyone else notices it. I didn’t ask Diego. Maybe I should have.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” There was amusement in her voice.

She didn’t look as ready to run as she had a few moments earlier, and Rubin wasn’t certain why. He was socially inept. He was considered brilliant in a lot of ways, but he kept to himself. He certainly wasn’t a ladies’ man.

He sent her a grin. “Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry for sounding like I was treating you like an experiment. Anything to do with lightning, I get excited about. It interests me. I have a few gifts of my own that were enhanced by Whitney. I was asking you questions because one of those enhancements has to do with electrical energy.”

He heaved a sigh. “I actually came up here because I get tired of the way everyone watches out for me. Stands over me, eyes on me all the time. I imagine you felt similar, way worse, in Whitney’s laboratory. At least I have freedom. I shouldn’t have started in on you.”

He pushed a hand through his hair, trying to find his way with her. Trying to be honest. “I’m not good with women. I don’t usually …” He trailed off. “It’s just that I find you very attractive and I didn’t quite know what to do with that, so I fell back on what was most comfortable for me … science. I apologize, Jonquille.”

Her silvery-blue gaze drifted over his face in slow scrutiny as if checking to see if he was telling the truth. His gut clenched. There was something very otherworldly about the color of her eyes. The electrical charge in him bumped against the electrical charge in her over and over and then moved away just as it would in a thundercloud. He felt the buildup between them more as a sexual jolt each time and wondered if she was experiencing the same strange phenomenon.

He waved his hand, dismissing the subject. “Let’s not talk about Whitney or his experiments for a while. I came up here to get away from everything to do with him.”

She looked around her. “It is beautiful here.”

“Very remote. Not too many people could live here. Or understand the people who do choose to live here,” Rubin said. He swept his hand toward the cabin. He was beginning to feel a little desperate to find a way to get around the electrical charge building between them. He could feel the air growing heavier with it. “Did you discover the graveyard behind the house?”

“It’s covered over in the most beautiful wildflowers,” Jonquille said. “I weeded. I could tell it was a family plot.”

“Nearly our entire family is buried there. It started with both sets of grandparents. Then my father. My two older brothers aren’t in it because they disappeared, hiked out to find work, but they never returned, so we knew they were dead. If they weren’t dead, they would have come back to help. The rest of the graves are my sisters and mother. Diego and I buried them, one by one, before we left for Detroit to find work. We were kids when we left. Fourteen.”

He was giving her something of himself. Something real. He knew her life; it was only fair that she knew something of his. He hoped she realized it was difficult for him. He and Diego didn’t share much about themselves.

Again, those silvery-blue eyes of hers moved over him. This time he saw a little glow in them as if it were impossible to contain the brightness in her.

“You’re a brilliant man, Rubin. I stalked you like a groupie. Followed you to three different conferences where you were speaking. I had to dress in dark clothing made from a special Faraday mesh. That blocked all electromagnetic fields from escaping or getting to me. I had to cover my hair and skin. At one of them, you were presenting the same material, but I wanted to hear the sound of your voice. You’re an incredibly charismatic man. I remember thinking you had everything. Looks, brains, your voice. You were fourth-generation GhostWalker, so even that was perfection. I should have known better than to judge anyone like that, let alone someone Whitney had access to.”