Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (18 page)

“What made it dangerous?”

“Extremely hazardous chemicals are used to extract the ore, and they caused many to die young. What’s already been pulled from the ground is protected and used strictly for high-court purposes.”

He ran a hand over the back of his neck, as though a stress headache was coming on. I saw he was looking tired, and it was no kidding, if he’d been trying to protect me the last several days. He couldn’t have had a lot of sleep. Reluctantly, I felt my anger start to drain away.

“You guys have a lot of this stuff?”

“We’re rich with it here in the north. There’s enough of it buried under the surface that most citizens can transfer right from their homes. For those who aren’t near enough to a natural deposit, the high court had transfer units built in secure locations to make travel accessible for all.”

“You guys don’t need roads at all.”

“We don’t. However, the southern regions of the planet have a different geologic makeup. If they have any deposits at all, they’re minute and not easily accessible. It’s for the mylunate that the people of the south, the Brausa—” he curled his lip in disdain, “—have waged war with us. They’re a crude, animalistic, barbaric people who don’t care if they kill women and children in their quest for power.”

“I guess you don’t want to share your resources with them, then.”

“Have no doubt they would seek to enslave any nation they encountered. They have very little respect for human life, including the lives of their own kind.”

“Sounds bad,” I murmured, though in truth, I was having trouble taking it all in.

With a sudden frown Ryder said, “Christ, Taylor, you’re shaking. We need to get you warm.” I hadn’t realized my teeth were still chattering and that I couldn’t feel my toes.

“You have a heating system?”

“The heating rods will take a few minutes to warm up.”

“Heating rods?” I arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like it’ll hurt.”

“They line the floor, Taylor. They heat the whole room. I’m not going to stick you with them.” His lips quirked as he stood. I really liked to see him smile.

I sniffed, getting that cold-air, runny-nose thing, and said, “I guess I am cold.”

“This should help.” There was a blanket that I hadn’t noticed lying across the top of the sofa. He pulled it over me.

As it turned out, warming me up took not only a warm blanket but a fireball of a drink, one that had a murky look to it, that Ryder said was soldier’s brew out in the field. It singed my throat as it went down, making my eyes water, but my shivering stopped completely. I’m sure the heating system he went to turn on kicked in as well, but his brew, whatever the hell was in it, was powerful.

“Holy smokes,” I hissed, and I coughed.

“It’s potent. Take it easy,” Ryder said.

Taking care of someone else seemed to be a new experience for him, as he watched me closely, unsure of what to do for me. He was trying to be thoughtful, but the edges of his bedside manner needed smoothing out. He stood over me like a drill sergeant, first insisting on having me lean back on the arm of the sofa with my feet up, then wrapping me cocoon style—shoes and all—into the thick, warm blanket and finally forcing the jet fuel on me.

However, where the first sip of witches’ brew had had me coughing and sputtering, my eyes watering as I tried to breathe through the alcoholic fumes that choked my throat, the second and third got me to feeling like everything was A-OK. By the time I got to the bottom of the cup, heat flushed my cheeks, and the world was looking pretty damned rosy.

The world was looking so rosy that Ryder had gone back to being my hero again, saving me from the dark forces of evil, instead of the guy who’d just thrown me, with no warning, across the universe.

“Better?” he asked. He took the empty cup from me and casually perched it on a side table before sitting at the far end of the sofa again.

“Just like the frosted cornflakes tiger.” I slurred my words with a big silly grin, which had him looking at me with faint confusion, since he likely hadn’t watched enough TV to know who Tony was, but I was feeling too good to explain. I burrowed into the warm blanket and, strangely, felt as though it hummed with energy. What was it with all this energy? Why hadn’t I ever felt it before? In dreams now I could feel it swirling around me, knowing that it was my own, recognizing it like it was a personalized fingerprint or something like that. I could feel Ryder’s energy too. It was different from mine.

I noticed the blanket wrapped around me was absolutely magnificent. It was silky soft, mostly forest green, though there were sunbursts of burnt oranges, reds and browns sparsely woven in, creating a beautiful image. It had intricate stitches in a pattern of an animal. After looking at it more carefully, I realized it was that same magnificent bird of prey from the glass vial hanging on his neck. It must have taken hundreds of hours to plan and make.

“Ryder, this is amazing,” I breathed, running my fingers over the pattern more gently.

“My grandmother made it.”

“It’s so soft. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like butter. What is it made from?”

“It’s a special, rare sun plant that we call
sele’tuen.
My grandmother has spent her life nurturing fields of this plant species. Very few others have been so successful in growing them. It requires special care. Patience.”

“She spins her own yarn?”

“Spins it, dyes it, plans the designs and weaves it.”

“What a wonderful gift.”

“Everyone in our family has their own. My grandmother waits for a sign from our...” He frowned, as though looking for a word and not finding it in English. “In our world, I would call him
Pere’seiunat.
Like a spirit animal.”

“Is this your spirit animal?” I noted the large talons outstretched in attack mode and traced the outline gently. “I saw this on your necklace.”

“He belongs to the people of my province. My grandmother has the ability to commune with the spirit who protects our people.”

“With the spirits?”

“
Pere’seiunat
came to her in a dream and revealed his warrior essence to her. That’s when she knew what image to place on my spirit mantle.”

“Well, it’s wonderful,” I slurred, appreciating the heat beginning to radiate through my body. The alcohol was kicking in.

“I figured you’d be able to handle this situation better if you were relaxed.”

“
Okeydokey.
”
I
sighed
,
feeling carefree.
I
couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“
Mission accomplished.
”

His lips curled, and his eyes warmed as brief humor crossed his face. “I can see that.”

A surge of tenderness twisted my insides again, but this time I didn’t cringe from it. What I wanted to do was thank him for taking care of me, since he always seemed to be rescuing me from something or other, and then I wanted to assure him that I didn’t usually lead such an exciting life, and that I wasn’t typically this much of a pain in the ass.

What I actually said though was “You’re really super nice.” A hiccup snuck up on me. Belatedly, I covered my mouth, with wide eyes and a giggle.

“Taylor...” It was like he couldn’t stop himself. He gave me a crooked grin, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

But I didn’t know what to do with that. What would Cynthia do?

“I think I gave you too much
durma.
”

“No, really.” I hiccuped again and frowned at myself for interrupting before continuing. “This is not the alcohol talking (hiccup). Well, maybe it is a little, but really. You act like such a tough guy all the time, with your tough-guy look (hiccup) and your tough-guy muscles and your tough-guy motorcycle, but I’ve (hiccup) got your number.”

His eyes had become riveted on me. They turned slumberous. “You do?” He set both boots flat and leaned forward. “What’s my number?”

For a moment I was mesmerized by his beautiful eyes staring into mine and forgot what I’d been talking about. Hiccup. “Number?”

He reached for my hips and pulled me halfway across the couch toward him, blanket and all, until our faces were inches apart. My heart pounded with excitement at his ability to physically manipulate me. “You said that you had my number.”

“I do?” Did I have his phone number? It was hard to think when I couldn’t tear myself away from his green eyes. “I didn’t mean his phone number,” I mumbled to myself, still caught in his gaze. Hiccup. That’s right. I was starting to figure him out. “I do have your number. You are actually a...do-gooder...a...a Good Samaritan under all that tough-guy stuff. You needed to save someone, and for some reason, I seem to need saving a frickin’ lot these days.” Hiccup.

“You don’t make it easy,” he said gruffly, turning serious, and I knew he was remembering what had happened to me earlier. He gently picked up a lock of curling golden-brown hair where it had escaped my faux updo.

“I don’t?” I got goose bumps from his light, fleeting, inadvertent touches against my skin.

“You’re a frustratingly stubborn woman.” The growl came back to his voice, and I
liked
it. I could almost feel myself purring.

“I am?”

“Good thing I know one or two of your kind.” His eyes were following the movement of his fingers.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He leaned closer. In that growly, sexy voice he said, “Open your mind to me,
lin’de.
”

“Why?”

“I need to see you.”

“Why?”

“You make me crazy,” he ground out in a rough whisper.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked breathlessly.

“Count on it.”

Wicked heat, swirling desire and naughty thoughts came tumbling through my mental barriers, winding around us deliciously as Ryder’s lips hovered just a hairsbreadth from mine. I could feel his warmth. I could smell his masculine scent, a scent that was making me wanton.

The anticipation built a fever.

His lips lightly brushed mine once...twice...scorching me with each touch, driving heat to private places, but I needed so much more.
Ryder
,
please.

What do you want?
The husky sound of his voice wove through my mind. He’d dropped his walls to whisper intimately into my mind.

I
want your lips.

His lips took mine fiercely; searing pleasure sizzled through my veins. It was hot. It was wild. With a muffled cry, I grabbed handfuls of his thick black hair, holding him to me where I wanted him most. I nibbled his delicious bottom lip as I’d been dying to do, and he groaned roughly, crushing my breasts to his chest more forcefully as he lowered us both to the sofa. The feel of his weight on me was delectable, his hand squeezing my hip and waist. It was working its way to my breast, and I silently encouraged him. My nipples were hard and aching.

Yes!
Feels so good
...

Can’t get enough
... His rough voice threaded through and around me, lingering.

He ran his tongue over the seam of my lips, parting them then plunging, tasting dark and delicious. His tongue tangled with mine, ramping up the need that was quickly getting away from us.

He pulled back abruptly, his breathing harsh, as he looked at me hungrily, the rough-hewn lines and planes of his face beautifully masculine and imperfect.

“Ryder—” I tried to pull him back down.

“Not like this,
lin’de
,” he said darkly, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of my head.

“Why stop?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I am not.” My inner sex kitten was glaring at him through my eyes, feeling thwarted. Hiccup. Okay. Maybe I was a little toasted.

“This will happen.” He spoke the vow as he looked into my eyes heavily. “Now be a good girl and turn on your side. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

I knew he was trying to do the right thing, but honestly, did he really have to be such a Boy Scout?

“Okay, fine. Tell me about this place,” I said with a sigh of exasperation. I turned to face away from him as he slid behind my back to spoon me (so glad it was a deep sofa) with his arm curled over my rib cage. I could feel his hot, hard arousal tucked against my bottom, and I wiggled against it for good measure. He hissed in my ear, staying my hips with one of his heavy hands.

I grinned secretly.

“Be good.” He nipped my earlobe and kissed it.

“You’re not playing fair.”

He ignored that.

“I’m one of the people of the north. We called our federation Sunan, which means seven. It’s made up of seven provinces, and the one we’re in is Milak, named for the ancestor who first led his group of followers to this land.”

“What’s your daily language?”

“Most of us learn English now. We’ve been partners of trade with nations on Earth for several hundred years, but for the last hundred or so, we’ve relied heavily on the U.S. There were numbers of wars over the course of time, which made trade a challenge in other parts of your world. Your nation has been consistently unchanged for the greater length of time in more recent history.”

“That’s crazy. Why doesn’t anyone know about you?”

“We don’t exactly have green skin or extra limbs.” He gave me a squeeze. “We’re very careful. A number of us have worked successfully on Earth for years. We have businesses established, connections, trade routes. A few of the Sunan who work in trade prefer to live solely on Earth, and there are a few from Earth who have come to live with us. Scientists, mostly. Scholars. Most people on your planet can’t know about us. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“So all of those people who claim to have been kidnapped by aliens for sexual experimentation were telling the truth?” Of course, there was a smile in my voice when I said this.

His tone was dry when he stated, “Hardly.”

“Can I volunteer?”

“Taylor,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

“Okay, okay. Something safe. So what is this place where you live? It looks like a cave.”

“I live in the Catacombs, over an old volcanic site.” The sound of his voice was hypnotic, and I could feel my lids growing heavy. “There is still geothermal activity, and it gives us access to natural hot springs, but the volcano is dormant. A number of us live here. The Catacombs have been lived in continuously for generations. We’ve found evidence of our earliest ancestors in some of the rooms that are now underwater.”