Silvia Day (20 page)

Her hands slid up his back and into the thick, silky hair at the nape of his neck. She snuggled into him, and then rose to her tiptoes so she could press loving kisses along his jaw line on the way to his throat. As her tongue licked across his pulse, he groaned and trembled. “Lyssa,” he breathed, cutting off her air with the strength of his embrace.

“I was so worried.”

“I’m terrified. This is the last place I want you to be.”

She rubbed up against him, and he hugged her tighter, his hands wandering possessively over her back and hips.

“Captain.”

Lifting his head, Aidan gave a nod to the bowing lieutenant. “Thank you.”

“Well,” Philip began dryly, “our motives aren’t entirely altruistic. We’re going to need some leadership in exile.”

“Who’s with you?”

Philip rattled off a list of names.

“I take it this is solely a rescue mission?” Aidan set her away from him, his focus now fully on the situation.

“For the moment. I spent some time in the Temple today.”

“In the control room?”

Nodding, Philip said, “I think most of what we need is in there. The Elders have hidden so much from us. Did you know it’s possible to move about in her world through a Dreamer?”

“Yes. I knew that.”

“And it’s possible to traverse planes freely. Did you know that, too?”

“Yes.”

“So you can come back!” Lyssa cried, the flood of hope she felt making her dizzy.

Aidan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s safe to be with you, and until I can be certain that it is…” He inhaled sharply and looked away.

Lyssa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing, fighting, and venting her frustration with the unfairness of it all. She and Aidan had never done anything in their lives
to deserve this. All this time they’d been waiting for each other, and now they would be parted for reasons having nothing to do with their own actions.

For a long moment, Aidan stood unmoving, his stillness fraught with an underlying tension, as if he was steeling himself for some onerous task ahead. Goose bumps swept across Lyssa’s skin even though she wasn’t cold.

“Why are you dawdling, Cross?” Connor boomed, jogging into the room. His gaze moved to the glass tube and then back to Aidan. “You’re not fuzzy anymore. And you’re out of your slipstream. I thought only she could do that.”

“Only she can. I’m not dreaming. I’m here.”

“What?”

“The Elders retrieved me,” Aidan explained grimly. “All of me.”

“Bullshit.” Connor snorted. “If they could create closable fissures, we would have moved into the mortal realm long ago and left the Nightmares here.”

“There’s a hell of a lot we don’t know. Like these tubes. They’re filled with Elders-in-training.”

“What?”
Philip turned away from the console. “No way.”

Lyssa frowned, remembering the men she had seen in the other rooms. They didn’t look anything like the Elders in the gray robes.

“I want Lyssa out of here,” Aidan said roughly. “Take her back.”

“No!” She reached for his arm, which tensed to rock-hardness beneath her fingertips.

He looked down at her with icy blue eyes. “To my knowl
edge, your life is in danger outside of your slipstream. You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me.”

“But you can risk yourself for me?”

Aidan said nothing, his gorgeous face set in tight, hard lines and his beautiful eyes—the ones that had looked at her with such love a moment ago—were now emotionless. Ancient. “I need you alive, Lyssa. More than I need you with me.”

Connor handed his sword to Aidan, then grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet.

As they moved toward the doorway, Lyssa called out in confusion.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He looked away, his jaw tight and nostrils flaring. “Give me something to work with, Wager.”

Connor stepped out of the room. “Don’t take it personally,” he murmured, his lips to her ear. “He has to shut off his emotions or he’ll never be able to think of the next move.”

Using that impossibly long-legged stride of his, Connor quickly ate up the distance to the cavern. There she saw the Elders restrained in the corner, some injured, others tossing out dire warnings of retribution. Aidan’s men appeared unnerved by the situation, but they kept the tips of their swords aimed at the huddle and didn’t waver.

At the console, one man worked with rapid keystrokes. He looked up as Connor stepped into the space. “Captain, can you take a look at this?”

Connor nodded, and set her down. “Don’t move,” he warned.

He took over at the touchpad, and she was suddenly forgotten by Aidan’s men while still getting the death stare from the creepy Elders. The air was humid due to the large body of water just beyond the rock edge, but she was cold, chilled from the inside.

The two men at the console worked industriously for long moments, and in the interim Lyssa’s attention turned inward, focusing on the need to keep herself together until she was alone. She fought the nearly overwhelming desire to run back down the hall to Aidan. Knowing he was so close was torture. She wanted him with a soul-deep longing she doubted would ever be appeased, but she understood his motives. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to him, either, which was why leaving him was killing her. He was going through all this alone, and she wanted desperately to be of help to him.

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t immediately notice how unnaturally quiet the room had become. It was only when she felt heat at her back and inhaled the sexy, luscious scent that belonged to Aidan alone that she became aware of the change.

Lyssa stiffened.

“You’re still here,” he murmured. He stood unmoving behind her, nearly touching, enough that she felt him breathing, slow and deep. She could sense the struggle within him, the fight to keep his distance. Her eyes squeezed closed and her hands fisted.

She understood why they had to part this way—cold turkey. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings out. The affection he had shown when he first exited the tube was a liability now. Once a dam was broken, the flood wouldn’t
stop until there was no water left. She was also holding back, knowing that when she grieved over his loss, the initial despair would last for days.

But she couldn’t leave without telling him, at least once…“I love you.”

The shudder that moved through him rippled across the space between them. His hands circled her wrists, but he maintained that provocative distance. His thumbs stroked over her pulse. “Cute outfit,” he whispered back.

A tear formed and then fell, quickly followed by another. Lyssa was grateful that he couldn’t see how his reply affected her. Friendly, no intimacy. She opened her eyes, refusing to let her torment be witnessed by the Elders.

“Remember your promise,” he said softly. “Don’t take the pendant off. Ever.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Connor approached, his demeanor subdued. She wondered what he saw when he looked at them, especially when he glanced away with a wince. Aidan released her and moved to the console.

She swallowed hard and turned her back to him. “Let’s go.”

Every step away from Aidan crushed her further, until she was gasping in agony. Connor stepped into the water on the shallow ledge and held his arms out to her. Catching his outstretched fingers with hers…

…she stifled a scream as she was grabbed from behind in a crushing, but instantly familiar embrace. One steely arm lashed around her waist, another pinned her between her breasts.

“I love you,” Aidan said hoarsely, his lips to her ear, his
body wrapped around hers with a tangible desperation. “Tell me you know that.”

Her hands came up to clutch at his forearms. “I know.”

Lyssa almost told him to dream of her. Instead she held her tongue and felt her heart break.

Waking with a start, Lyssa jackknifed upward, her heart racing so swiftly, she felt it against her ribs. Sweat coated her skin, and her chest heaved with panting breaths.

The space beside her in the bed was empty, the pillow still retaining the shape of the man who had rested there so recently.

“Aidan.” Tears welled and fell in a constant stream.

Lifting the pillow to her face, Lyssa breathed in the lingering scent of his skin, and cried.

Stance wide and hands clenched at his lower back, Aidan faced the Elder-in-training in the tube before him, but it was Lyssa’s face he saw—wide, dark eyes filled with pain and confusion. He pulled a deep breath into his lungs and clung to his sanity by a thread. Endless days stretched out before him, an eternity without Lyssa.

“Cross, damn it!”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting Connor’s scowl.

“Fuck, man,” Connor muttered. “I’ve been standing here calling your name for the last few minutes.”

Aidan shrugged, uncaring. “What do you want?”

Connor sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. “I want you to be happy. In lieu of that, I’d like you to at least not be miserable.”

“Did you do as I asked?”

Stepping deeper into the room, Connor nodded. “Aside from Lyssa, no one on Earth knows you ever existed.”

“Lyssa’s still fighting it?” he asked quietly.

“I’m sorry.” Connor shrugged lamely. “She’s too strong.”

Aidan looked away, his throat tight. It killed him to think of Lyssa being in the same agony he was. He was barely managing to breathe, and she was far more sensitive. It was that empathy that first drew him to her. “Keep working on it.”

“Wager’s doing his best.”

Connor was silent for a long time, then he asked, “Would you forget her, if you could?”

“No.” Aidan smiled ruefully. “Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”

“I don’t know about that, man,” Connor said gruffly. “I’m kinda liking this side of the fence. To be honest, it looks a lot greener than your side.”

Connor left, his footsteps nearly silent on the stone floor. Unasked questions remained heavy in the air long after he departed, and Aidan was grateful that his friend hadn’t pressed him to answer them. He couldn’t talk about Lyssa now or what he had done while he was with her. It was too painful.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to focus his mind on the tasks yet to be accomplished rather than the piercing ache in his chest. He had no idea how much time passed. It didn’t matter.

“Cross.”

Moving on instinct, Aidan caught up the glaive resting against the tube before him and spun in a lightning-quick but tightly controlled arc. Sheron barely leaped back in time to avoid being cut in half.

The Elder held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I am unarmed, Captain.”

Aidan’s gaze narrowed. “How did you get in here? You weren’t with the others.”

“You disappoint me. I thought I taught you better than that.”

“You taught me enough to hurt you. At the moment, that’s all I need to know.”

“Really?” Sheron looked around the room. “Then I take it you don’t care to hear about how you can return to your Dreamer and be more productive in her world than you can be here?”

Catching a glimpse of a smile in the shadows of the cowl, Aidan lunged forward, pinning his former master to the rough stone wall. His forearm pressed hard against Sheron’s windpipe. “When I move my arm, I suggest you start talking.”

Sheron managed a slight nod, and Aidan eased up slightly.

Gasping, the Elder said, “There are Earth legends about dreams.”

“Get to the point.”

“Certain human cultures have worked to control dreams using various items—dream catchers, dolls, or symbols.”

Aidan’s focus sharpened. “Go on.”

“Where do you think the ideas for such items came from? There is a kernel of truth behind every legend.”

“I know. And?”

“There are places around the Dreamer planet where the original artifacts that sparked the legends remain. They have been kept there until the Key was discovered. The possibility existed that the Elite would fail to kill her, or be unable to, and the Elders wished to have a recourse.”

The blood in Aidan’s veins turned to ice. “What do they do?”

“Everything you need to know is in that book you took with you.” Sheron’s voice lowered, became more urgent. “They’ll send someone after those items now. While you’re here, they will have someone working against your Dreamer there.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“What benefit would I claim by lying to you?”

Aidan arched a brow. “You’d get me out of the way for a while.”

“Ah…” Sheron smiled. “There is that.”

Shoving away from the wall, Aidan raised the point of his glaive. His heart beat in a steady rhythm, his chest rose and fell without labor, but his emotions were nowhere near as calm. “The book says something about the Key, the Lock, and the Guardian destroying the world as we know it.”

“Does it?” Sheron asked quietly.

Aidan paused, recalling what he’d transcribed and suddenly doubting the conclusions he’d drawn.

“Vids are everywhere, Cross. Until your men took over the cavern, I couldn’t speak freely. As for bringing you back, the Elite would not have commandeered this place if you weren’t here, and you will need these tools if you are to have any hope of succeeding. Everything had to happen exactly the way it did. Trust me.”

“The pendant?”

“Read the book. It’s all there. The Elders are unaware of its loss. Your men here will afford you the time you need.”

“You’re betraying the other Elders. Why?”

“We all want the same thing—an end to the Nightmares. I just believe that there are different ways to go about achieving that end. I can do nothing without losing my position, but you can work in my stead. You may not always understand why I do something, such as with the pendant, but trust that there is a purpose to everything.” Sheron moved toward the door in a swirl of gray robes.

Aidan leaped to stop him, but as quick as he’d come, the Elder was gone. Vanished into thin air.

As JB grumbled loudly and kneaded her thigh, Lyssa rolled into the sofa cushions and pulled the chenille throw over her head.

“Go away,” she protested, hating that he had woken her up. At least when she was asleep, she wasn’t thinking about Aidan. For the first time in her life, not having dreams was a blessing.

A month had passed since they’d parted, and still the pain of his loss ate at her. The intensity of her longing and sorrow hadn’t lessened at all.

It was made worse by the fact that no one remembered Aidan at all so there was no one she could share her torment with. If not for the clues left behind—the books, the pendant, his sword—Lyssa might have thought she was fucking crazy. Not that she wasn’t close to insanity anyway. Sometimes, in those dark moments when she cried until there were no tears left, Lyssa wished Aidan had cleared her mind, too. Just for a moment. One blessed moment of peace.

JB crawled over her thigh and nudged his head against her. Lyssa withdrew her hand from beneath the blanket and rubbed behind his ears.

He yawned. She cried. Crushed under the weight of her grief, she curled into a ball. Her chest heaved with painful sobs; her heart ached in all its many pieces.

Her mind sifted through her sorrow, remembering blue eyes filled with predatory heat and possessive intent. Remembering a hard, powerful body, and a savagely beautiful face. Phantom touches of Aidan’s callused hands moved over her skin.

I love you. Tell me you know that.

She did know that, with a soul-deep surety. It was both a salve and a barb. To have found a love like that, only to lose it…Knowing he was still out there somewhere, loving her, and yet they would never be together.

The doorbell rang.

She ignored it. Her mother had stopped by earlier to berate her and order her to go to the doctor. It had been torture to sit up and pretend that she was just tired, and not dying from a broken heart. Finally she’d yelled at Cathy to go away, and her mother had stormed out the front door in a huff, leaving Lyssa to collapse in relief. Going to work during the week was bad enough; dealing with prying visitors was too much.

The door opened and she groaned, snuggling deeper. If it wasn’t her mother, it was Stacey, and she didn’t want to see either of them.

“Lyssa?”

Aidan’s soft brogue caressed her skin like warm velvet. She stiffened, afraid to look. Afraid not to look. Afraid she
would wake up. Afraid she had died and gone to heaven, where her deepest wish was granted.

“Hot Stuff.” The love and the concern in the beloved voice made her cry harder. Then gentle hands were lifting her, arranging her, scooping her up effortlessly. She curled into the hard, familiar body, crawling over him as he sank into the sofa. Her thighs straddled his hips, her arms circled his neck, her nose pressed to his throat, and she cried against his skin.

“Lyssa.” Aidan’s hands stroked the length of her spine; his lips pressed kisses into her hair. “Don’t cry. I see you crying and it kills me.”

“Stacey doesn’t remember…no one remembers…”

“Look at me,” he murmured.

She took a deep, shaky breath. Her head lifted, and she met his gaze—dark as sapphire and deep. So deep, with centuries of memories behind them. She cupped his impossibly gorgeous face in her hands and pressed trembling lips to his. “I thought you were gone forever.”

“I’m here,” he said hoarsely, “and I love you. Christ, I love you too much.” He took her mouth, his lips slanting across hers, kissing her breathless. His hands were in her hair, angling her to better fit his kiss. His body stirred beneath hers, growing harder. Everywhere.

Wracked with grief, confusion, and a terrible need to assure herself that he was real, Lyssa tugged up his T-shirt, her hands finding and caressing hot satin skin. He groaned into her mouth and her tongue stroked his, swallowing the sound. She felt his lust rise, felt the effect she had on him as his kiss turned from fervent love to raw, carnal desire.

Her fingers moved lower, to the waistband of his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, looking as if that was the last thing he wanted her to do. She brushed his fingers away and ripped open his button fly.

“Hot Stuff…” The gritted-out endearment made her nipples hard. It was a sound of both surrender and demand. “Don’t get me started,” he warned. “I’ve missed you until I was insane with it. Let me calm down a bit.”

“You’ll be calm enough in a few minutes.”

His cock sprang out into her hand—hard, thick, and throbbing. His breath hissed out when she wrapped slender fingers around him. His clothes didn’t quite fit, and from his earlier explanations, she knew why. It was a tiny bit of proof that she wasn’t dreaming and she latched on to it gratefully.

She licked the crown.

“Ah…” he growled. “Do that again.”

His head fell back as her tongue traced the path of a vein. His hands clenched in her hair, tugging at the roots, and her gaze lifted to meet his in surprise. His eyes were nearly black, the blue irises dilated with lust, his cheekbones flushed with desire. With his beautifully etched lips parted on panting breaths, he gasped, “Open your mouth.”

She blinked, startled at the harsh order. She was even more shocked when he pulled her closer, one of his hands fisting around the base of his cock and aiming it at her lips.

“Aidan?”

He pushed into her opened mouth, his head falling back as her lips wrapped around him. “I ached for you to touch me like this.”

It was then she noted how he trembled from head to
toe, her immortal seducer of such renown. She stroked her tongue lightly across the sensitive underside of the tip, and his back bowed upward with a groan. She was willing to bet that he had never been this out of control when it came to sex.

“Lyssa.”

She smiled around her mouthful.

His head lifted, and he stared down at her with narrowed eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”

She sucked lightly just to watch him writhe, then released him to say, “That’d be a neat trick.”

He tugged her closer. “You’re doing a damn good job, believe me.”

“I felt like dying,” she said softly, her lower lip quivering. “Every day for the past month.”

“No way.” Aidan’s leg came up and kicked the coffee table aside. He moved over her, pressing her backward and down, his large, hard body pinning hers to the floor. “How much do you remember about the last time we were together?”

“Too much.”

“They’re not going to succeed, Lyssa.” His jaw was tight and hard, his hands rough as he shoved her dress up and tore off her lace thong. “We’re going to make this work.”

Her heart leaped at the determination in his voice. “How will we get around the mortal/immortal thing?”

His hand slid up her calf, stopped at her knee, then pushed it aside so that she was spread wide for him. He stared down into her eyes with hot intensity, his callused fingertips drifting between her legs, parting her, stroking
across her clit. “We’ll take it one day at a time until we figure it out.”

As he slid two fingers into her, Lyssa arched helplessly into his embrace. “Wager and Connor are working on it in the Twilight. I’ll be working on it here.”

Her breathing grew labored as Aidan stroked the sensitive inner walls of her pussy with those expert fingers.

“Working on what?” was all she managed to get out. His thumb was rubbing her clit, his hand flexing as he fucked her. In and out.

Aidan settled more comfortably, his head resting on one hand, watching her, while his other worked her into a state of unmitigated arousal. “Looks like I’ve got a treasure hunt ahead of me.”

As she writhed beneath his attentions, Aidan withdrew his fingers, tossed one jeans-clad leg over her hips to keep her still, then returned to his sensual torment.

“Wh-what?”

His eyes glittered with mischief. “Let’s talk when we’re done. Next week work for you?” He rubbed a spot inside her that made her whimper with pleasure.

“Don’t your men need you?” she whispered, her skin hot and tight, her pussy sucking hungrily at his pumping fingers. A week in bed with Aidan…She shivered.

“
I
need
you
. When you left with Connor—” His fingers paused. He closed his eyes a moment, then exhaled harshly.

Her hand came up to stroke his cheek, and he nuzzled into her palm.

“There’s a lot to be learned,” he said roughly. “We haven’t even scratched the surface of what you can do or
what you’re supposedly going to do. And that damn pendant…” He growled. “We’ll work it out. As long as we’re together.”