Siren's Call (A Rainshadow Novel) (14 page)

“Siren,” he said again.

But there was no fear or disbelief in his eyes. If anything, he looked satisfied.

He slipped back into sleep.

Lorelei ceased looking alarmed and went back to enjoying the road trip.

Ella drove on into the night singing a silent, psychic song infused with peace, tranquility, and calm.

Rafe slept.

He came awake from a dreamless sleep. For a moment he fought against surfacing. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into the magical realm.

An enthusiastic chortle made him open his eyes. He looked at Lorelei, who was perched on his knee, watching him intently. She clutched her wedding veil in one paw and nibbled on what looked like a chocolate chip cookie.

“Hey, there,” he said. Reflexively, he patted her head. “Where did you get the cookie?”

“The same place I got a cookie,” Ella said. “There’s one for you, too. And some coffee.”

Belatedly, he realized the car was parked and the driver’s side door was open. Ella was leaning into the vehicle, holding out a mug of coffee. The lights of a big house and a private landing strip glowed behind her.

“Sorry I had to wake you,” she said. “But we’re at your
friend’s ranch and there is a very expensive corporate jet waiting for us. The pilot said we need to hurry because there is some bad weather moving in over the Amber Sea. He wants to get us to Thursday Harbor before the storm hits.”

“I’m awake,” Rafe said.

Reluctantly he rezzed a little psi and shook off the sweet lethargy. He unfastened his seat belt and opened the door. Lorelei jumped off his knee and onto the seat, bouncing a little.

He got out, reached back into the car, and plucked Lorelei off the seat. She chortled and vaulted up onto his shoulder, the wedding veil trailing behind her.

“Your friend Ms. Cremona is packing some food for us and the pilots,” Ella said, speaking across the roof of the car.

He drank in the sight of her standing there, silhouetted against the lights. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt over what was left of her tattered dress. The night breeze tossed her hair.

She was not running hot but he was aware of the strong energy of her aura. He would know it anywhere, he thought, even in his dreams, just as he would know her voice and her scent. Her power called to him; it sang to him. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced—fiercely intimate; shatteringly sexual. He had never even kissed her, yet in that moment he knew that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything. The knowledge dazzled him. It also depressed him. She deserved a mate
who was her equal in all ways, one who could match her strength. He was no longer that man.

But at the moment he was the only one around who could protect her. He had to get her to the safety of Rainshadow where Coppersmith Security could shield her from whoever was trying to grab her.

Strange to think of Rainshadow as a safe zone, he thought. But it offered a lot of the things the urban environment could not—a trustworthy security staff, a secure compound, and a perimeter that could be patrolled. In addition, he trusted the local chief of police. He and Slade Attridge went back a ways.

“Ella.” He stopped, unsure where to go next. “Thanks. That’s the first good sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

“You need more but I understand the flight to Thursday Harbor is nearly four hours so you’ll have time to catch up on your rest. Looks like the fever has gone down a little.”

A flicker of unease made him go still. He did not like knowing that she could sense the weakness in him. “You can detect it that clearly?”

She cleared her throat. “I think I’m especially sensitive to your aura because we’ve had some physical contact while we were running hot. You know how it is with strong talents.”

It dawned on him that she was struggling to make it all sound very clinical. Two strong talents touch each other while each is fully rezzed and, presto, they are suddenly able to sense each other’s auras more clearly.

Except it didn’t usually work like that, Rafe thought. Not unless something else was going on—something like sexual attraction, which often had a strong paranormal vibe.

But he knew this was not the time to point out a few of the basic bio-psi facts of life. Ella had been affected by the link between them. Knowing that was enough—for now.

He was suddenly feeling a little less depressed.

“Right,” he said. “Just one of those things.”

“Yep, just one of those things.”

The door of the big house opened. A woman dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater emerged. The porch light gleamed briefly on the silver in her black hair. Gabriella Cremona was a strong crystal talent who, for years, had overseen one of Coppersmith’s most innovative labs.

“Rafe.” Gabriella came down the steps carrying two large insulated carriers. “Good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

One of the pilots hurried toward her. “I’ll take those, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Gabriella handed the carriers to him. “Sandwiches and cookies. Should be enough to last all of you for the trip. You said you had coffee on board.”

“Yes, ma’am. Plenty of coffee but we didn’t have time to stock up on the food. Appreciate the sandwiches and cookies, believe me.”

He looked at Rafe. “Ready when you are, Mr. Coppersmith. We won’t file a flight plan until we’re in the air. We need to get going, though. We should be wheels-up in
the next fifteen minutes if we want to beat the weather in the Amber Sea.”

“We’ll be on board in a minute, Larry.” Rafe walked around the car and gave Gabriella a hug. “Good to see you, too. You’ll be coming to the annual company picnic this summer on Copper Beach Island?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Gabriella said. She studied the wedding veil that Lorelei clutched. The netting drifted on the night breeze, floating around Rafe’s head and shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong—you’ll make a stunning bride, Rafe—but do you mind if I ask what is going on here?”

“I hate to say this, but the truth is, I’ve got no idea. Coppersmith is opening up a new territory in the Underworld. We need some specialized talent.”

“That would be me,” Ella said.

“I see,” Gabriella said.

“Someone evidently wants to prevent Ella from taking the job with Coppersmith,” Rafe concluded. “They tried to grab her tonight. They were using Alien tech.”

Gabriella raised her brows. “This new territory must be quite promising.”

“They’re calling it Wonderland,” Rafe said. “That’s a pretty damn good description. Maybe you’d like to come out to Rainshadow and see for yourself one of these days.”

“I’d like that,” Gabriella said. “I’d like that a lot.”

Rafe glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to get in the air. Thanks for everything, Gabriella.”

“Anytime. Tell your folks I said hello and that I’ll see them this summer.”

“Will do.”

Gabriella smiled at Ella. “A pleasure to meet you. Good luck in Wonderland.”

“Thanks,” Ella said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, too. And thanks for the sweatshirt.”

“No problem. Sorry I didn’t have anything else that would fit you.” Gabriella shot Rafe an unreadable glance and then smiled at Ella. “You can return the sweatshirt when I see you at the Coppersmith summer picnic.”

“Oh, no,” Ella said. “That sounds like a company event. I’m strictly a consulting talent.”

Her absolute denial of even a remote possibility of attending the picnic was damned annoying. Rafe had to clamp down on a flash of temper.

“You never know,” he said. “Summer is a ways off. Let’s go. The pilots are waiting.”

“Okay,” Ella said. “Good-bye, Ms. Cremona.”

“Good-bye, Ella.” Gabriella reached up to pat Lorelei on Rafe’s shoulder. “And good-bye to you, my little friend. Here’s another cookie to hold you until they open the picnic coolers on the plane.”

She handed Lorelei a chocolate chip cookie. Lorelei went into ecstatic mode.

Gabriella chuckled. “Doesn’t take much to thrill a dust bunny, does it?”

“No,” Ella said. “I guess we could all learn something from dust bunnies.”

Gabriella laughed. “Definitely.”

Ella turned, stuffed her hands into the pockets of the
sweatshirt, and started walking toward the jet. Rafe realized she was still wearing her stilettos.

Some bodyguard he had turned out to be. He had very nearly allowed her to get kidnapped tonight. Then he had run her through the catacombs, after which she had driven them both to an isolated airstrip where they were about to board a jet that would take them on a long flight to a very dangerous island. She had to be exhausted, he thought. But she had not complained or pointed out his several glaring inadequacies.

Oblivious of his dark thoughts, she contemplated the sleek jet sitting on the paved strip.

“You know, under other circumstances, this could be construed as a very romantic scene,” she said.

He stared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Think about it—a mysterious man wearing a gun and a tux whisks the lady off to an exotic island in a private jet.”

“You call this romantic? In case you didn’t notice, you nearly got kidnapped tonight. And Rainshadow isn’t exotic. It’s an island where things get very weird and your primary objective will be to avoid becoming a snack for some Alien-engineered dinosaur.”

“Got it.”

“Whatever is going on here, one thing is for sure—this is not a romantic scenario.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t know what came over me. Just a poor attempt to lighten the situation. Sorry.”

He came to a halt, snagged her arm, and forced her to stop, too. He turned her so that she faced him.

“And stop trying to humor me,” he said between his teeth.

“Why?” She smiled. “Because you have no sense of humor so I shouldn’t waste my time?”

“Damn it, there are other consultants out there.”

“But none of them are as good as me, not for this job. You need me, Coppersmith, so what do you say we try to get along?”

Maybe it was the psi-fever or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Whatever the case, he consigned common sense to hell and pulled her into his arms.

“You’re right,” he said. “I need you.”

He knew her aura was spiking. He could feel it. His own was probably damn near radioactive.

“This is not a good idea,” she said.

“No shit.”

“You see, one of the downsides of dream analysis is that clients sometimes read things into the counselor-client relationship that are inaccurate or misleading. Dreams are so intimate. That can make clients think the relationship with the counselor is intimate, too.”

“Do me a favor and stop trying to analyze me.”

Evidently sensing a new adventure in transportation, or maybe bored with human drama, Lorelei chortled, jumped down from Rafe’s shoulder, and bounced up the jet steps. She disappeared into the cabin, the veil trailing behind her.

Rafe tightened his grip on Ella. She did not pull away. He knew in that moment that she had decided to roll the dice with him. He didn’t like knowing that she
considered him a bad risk but, what the hell, she was probably right. There was no knowing where the fever would take him. All he cared about was that for now it was under control and she was in his arms.

He covered her mouth with his own.

The kiss exploded around them, setting their auras on fire. Her hands on his shoulders were suddenly clenched tight, as if she were hanging on for dear life. She made a low, hungry little sound that jacked up all of his senses.

He was burning now, not with psi-fever but with old-fashioned, primal sexual heat. Whatever was happening between them was dangerous. That fact only made it all the more compelling; all the more thrilling.

But this was not the right time and it sure as hell wasn’t the right place.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Coppersmith, but we really need to get this plane into the air,” Larry said from the top of the steps.

Reality slammed back with the force of a hurricane.

Reluctantly, he gripped Ella’s upper arms and set her a few inches away from him. She stared at him with wide, dazed eyes.

Good enough for now, he decided. He might not be the man of her dreams, but judging by the stunned look on her face, she wouldn’t forget him anytime soon.

“Let’s go,” he said.

He clamped a hand around her wrist. They ran for the plane.

It was her own fault, Ella thought. She should not have made that dumb crack about the romantic scene at the remote airstrip.

Deep down she had known that injecting the word
romantic
into the conversation was dangerous. But she was only human, she told herself, and she had been through a lot that evening. It wasn’t every night that a mysterious, sexy man saved her from a kidnapping attempt and then swept her off in a private jet to a strange island where a thrilling adventure in the Underworld awaited.

She had the expensively outfitted cabin to herself. The pilots were up front doing whatever pilots did when a plane was in the air. After the exhilarating rush of the takeoff, followed by several more cookies, Lorelei had amused herself for a time exploring the interior of the aircraft. Exhausted from all the fun, she was now dozing
on one of the leather seats. She was on her back, all six paws in the air, the wedding veil draped over the edge of the seat.

Rafe was also sound asleep but he was stretched out on a narrow bed in the back. He had not needed any dream songs this time. He had gone out like a light the instant his head hit the pillow. Ella knew that he was still making up for an extensive sleep deficit.

The dream song she had sung for him in the car was still holding. She did not know if the fix would prove permanent. It all depended on the fever. If it subsided, which it seemed to be doing at the moment, Rafe’s dream issues would likely go away. But if the heat spiked again in his aura, the nightmares would probably return.

And the mystery of the fever itself remained. She was very curious to know exactly what had caused it. Armed with that information, she would have a clearer notion of how to deal with it. But Rafe seemed intent on keeping his secrets.

She thought about the two words he had spoken when he had been trapped in the lucid dreamstate.
Ghost City.
A memory of a fairy tale stirred. The story had involved an ancient Alien city constructed of ice and fog. Great riches and vast powers were said to be concealed within the walls of the dead city, but it was a place of terrible danger and astonishing mystery.

According to the fairy tale, only those endowed with strong talents and a brave spirit dared to undertake the quest to find the city. Few had discovered its location; fewer still survived to tell the tale. Those who did return
were not the same. Whatever they had seen or experienced inside the walls of the legendary ruins had deprived them of their talent and driven them mad.

But
The City of Ice and Fog
was a fairy tale and Rafe had been trapped in a dream when he had spoken of the Ghost City. It had all been part of his nightmare.

They were flying west into the night. Ella settled deeper into her seat and thought about the heated kiss on the airstrip. She was pretty sure Rafe would regret it when he awakened. She had learned long ago that there was a pattern in her relationships and it wasn’t a good one.

Rafe would get cold feet like all the others and he would regret the kiss. But in the meantime, she was setting out on an adventure and she could do a little dreaming of her own.