Cross Waves, page 5
He eyed her for a long moment, his gaze intense. “Are you sure you’re up for it after what happened in the car?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Does it matter? If we’re facing someone with talent, you’re going to need my help.”
His lips thinned, but he must have seen the logic in her argument because he pointed the flashlight beam ahead of them and turned toward the hill, his voice tight and controlled. All right. Let’s go.”
Geneva moved to catch up with his long strides. The eerie purple light shining from the vortex didn’t move. They drew closer. Some of the light moved toward them in a direct line, turning the golden flashlight beam purple. They topped the short rise in the hill and stopped in tacit agreement.
Geneva watched the purple light. Friend or foe? The hue and pattern of color did not alter. If it were foe, it would already be wreaking havoc on her energy field. Instead, the waves continued moving forward at an even pace.
Rolf turned to her, his gaze steady. “What do you sense?”
“The energy’s even. There are no spikes in the color. We should be okay to approach.”
They moved forward in tandem. The energy cloud grew larger and heavier, until it surrounded them. “There.” Geneva motioned.
Rolf pointed the flashlight beam to a small object on the ground. He bent and retrieved it while Geneva peered over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“Some kind of crystal.” He turned it over in his hands, examining it from all sides. “Doesn’t look like anything special.”
“Let me see.”
“Be careful.” He handed it to her along with the flashlight.
Geneva grasped the stone in her palm, feeling the smoothness of its sides with her fingers. The energy stream died, and the color winked out. She continued to run her fingers down the sides of the crystal to see if she could reactivate the energy field. Nothing.
“Well?” Rolf’s aura had lost the bright pink of illness and had returned closer to its customary green, indicating he was feeling a bit better. He’d probably have one nasty headache in the morning, though, and a scar where his head had struck the rock.
“Whatever power it contained is gone. It’s an ordinary stone.” She pocketed the crystal as evidence. She would send it to Peter to have it analyzed, but she suspected the lab would verify it contained a normal amount of energy. “How did it get there?”
“A crystal with that kind of energy doesn’t just appear at a vortex on its own. Someone put it there. I wonder…” Rolf stilled.
“What?”
“Whoever put it there knew it would be activated the moment a person with talent used their power. And they could have placed it there at any time, knowing that we’d probably show up eventually and activate it.”
“You think the crystal was intended for me?”
Rolf nodded. “Maybe. They may have wanted you to lose control and kill me. Probably figured you would be so involved handling the dream energy and calling an ambulance, you wouldn’t have time to go searching the vortex afterward. They’d have time to reclaim the crystal before we discovered it. Clearly, someone who doesn’t know you well.”
She met his gaze. “Rolf, because I managed to deflect the dream energy this time doesn’t mean you’ll be so lucky next time. Whoever did this could have been successful in making me lose control. I could have killed you.” A chill rushed through her body.
“You didn’t.” He took the flashlight from her hands and shined enough light between them to see her face. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“That was some dream sequence with Cynthia. I wonder—” Rolf’s eyes pinned hers in the steady glow of the flashlight beam.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “What?”
He brushed the hair from her eyes, the rare touch doing strange things to her insides. Turquoise light spilled from his broad frame. “You got it wrong in your nightmare. I never slept with Cynthia Torra.”
She tightened her lips and tore her gaze from his to look over his shoulder. But with his mind firmly entrenched in hers, there was nowhere to hide. Still, she tried for nonchalance. “Why would I care who you slept with?” She shrugged, but she couldn’t deny that his words sent a tremble through her system. Rolf didn’t lie. The turquoise color indicated he spoke the truth.
Rolf chuckled, the sound loud in the silence between them.
She glared at him. “The dream exaggerated my true feelings.” She kept her eyes on his. “I don’t give a shit about your relationship with that woman.”
His gaze remained steady, unshakable. The quirk of his brows labeled her a liar. The nightmare had revealed far too much of her inner emotions, and he was still in her mind. He knew her thoughts.
“Whatever you say. I’m just glad we got it straightened out.”
“Why?” she whispered, her heart beating like someone played kettle drums inside her. Why did he care if she thought he had a fling with Cynthia Torra or not? He hated her, didn’t he?
His lips pursed, then tilted, widening into a slow smile that transformed his harsh features into something beautiful. “If I have to be immersed in any more of your surprise nightmares, at least they should be accurate.”
The smile was so unexpected, it robbed Geneva of breath. Rolf was teasing her. Excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and nervous laughter tore through her lips. Anger, she could take. Contempt, she was used to. But she had no idea how to deal with his humor.
She tore her gaze from his, disrupting whatever was happening between them. Must be the bump on his head. Rolf hadn’t shared a joke with her since they were small children, running through the neighborhood in a game of tag. “The dream shouldn’t have been surprising given your reputation.”
Rolf pointed the flashlight toward the trail so she could no longer see his face. His voice tightened. “An illusion. I’ve spent more nights alone than you could possibly imagine.”
She wanted to deny his gruff statement, but more turquoise pulsed inside his aura. More energy than normal. She stood transfixed. He allowed her to see he spoke the truth. She took a step forward and stumbled on the uneven ground. Was this some sort of sick game?
He turned and grasped her arm so she didn’t fall down the rocky slope that led to their car. “Watch yourself now.” His hands were strong and capable—protective, even.
Like everyone else, Geneva had heard the rumors about Rolf and Cynthia. What a cute couple, her coworkers said. Don’t know what he sees in her, Julia confided. In a rare moment of disgust over the brother she adored, Julia showed Geneva a newspaper clipping of Rolf escorting Cynthia to a fancy party.
Whatever their relationship, it didn’t appear platonic. But how else to explain the turquoise color she’d seen in his aura indicating he spoke the truth?
8
Truth
What the hell was he thinking? He should have let her believe the lies told about him. The lies he’d fanned to life and deliberately magnified.
The lies kept her safe.
Rolf punched his pillow and tried without success to fall asleep. His head pounded, and he had a hard time finding a comfortable spot. Geneva had insisted on dressing the wound on his forehead—another form of torture.
He turned to his side and listened to her breathing in the bed next to him. She wasn’t sleeping. Her panic settled in his mind as if it were his own, a strange offshoot of his talent. Even as children, the dark inside him yearned to meld with her light. Where others saw only toughness, Rolf understood the deep fears she battled. He eyed Geneva’s dark shape in the other bed. He longed for inches between them instead of a nightstand with a Gideon bible. He longed to wrap her in his arms and comfort her. And that was precisely the problem. She wasn’t his to comfort. She could never be his. Not if he wanted her safe. And he did. More than anything.
When they’d returned from the vortex, he’d removed himself from her mind. Now she guarded her thoughts, and out of respect for her, he wouldn’t attempt to breach her defenses. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering what thoughts required such a strong defense? Did she imagine the worst for Julia like he did? Did she wonder who wanted him dead?
He turned on his back. Energy simmered deep inside where he kept it sealed. His hidden talent could find his sister if he let it, but it would swallow his heart and soul with it. Turn him into a raging psychopath who would kill the ones he loved the most. And that he could never allow.
He pulled air into his lungs and rolled to his other side—the one farthest from her. It was becoming harder to control his true nature. He shouldn’t use his talent. The more he used it, the greater the danger he’d lose all compassion for humanity. But the vortex had Geneva’s talent off-kilter, so he might have no choice. One thing was certain, if he did draw on his power, Geneva couldn’t be near him. He didn’t trust himself around her.
Rolf opened his eyes and stared toward the window. Where was Julia? She’d been missing almost two whole days. Who had placed a crystal in the vortex? Who wanted him dead? Where had they gotten the crystal? Most of the CMU believed it wasn’t possible to charge crystals, but he now had concrete proof they were wrong.
Their cell phones buzzed in quick succession, causing adrenaline to surge through his body, scattering his thoughts. Rolf scrambled for his on the nightstand beside his bed. From the other bed, Geneva grabbed hers. He squinted at the screen, grimacing as he read the text from Peter.
2:42 a.m. Prepare for the calvary. Geneva’s brothers are on their way. Estimated arrival time, 0900 hours.
Rolf had reported what had happened at the vortex, and now Peter was sending in reinforcements. He suspected a larger plot and wasn’t taking any chances.
Damn. Rolf grimaced and set the phone back on the nightstand. Like everyone else, Geneva’s brothers—Nate and Daniel Erickson—believed the rumors he’d circulated. They thought he was a womanizer. They’d not be happy to find their beloved sister sharing a hotel room with him. Hell, they probably didn’t like Geneva sharing a car ride with him.
He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the rustling in the other bed as Geneva repositioned herself. He pictured her as she’d looked earlier tonight on the hillside, hovering over him, her concerned gaze landing on his wounded forehead before staring into his eyes. She’d laid cool hands on his head and filled him with a white-hot heat, taking his pain away and igniting a desire so strong, he’d nearly lost control.
“Rolf?”
Her voice broke the silence, instantly rousing the darkness inside him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was only wondering…what did you mean, earlier tonight, when you said your reputation wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined? Did you really mean you and Cynthia Torra… Are you saying you never slept together?”
So, that’s what had occupied her thoughts. A lightness filled him. Joy. An emotion so infrequent he had a hard time identifying it. If he was any kind of man, he’d let her continue to believe the lies. But like earlier tonight, something about the vulnerability in her voice placed a stranglehold on his vocal cords, and he couldn’t tell this particular lie again. “Yes, that’s what I meant.”
“But how is that possible? I saw the photograph in the newspaper.”
He shrugged, although he knew she couldn’t see it in the dark. “She kissed me, and it was caught on camera.” He had allowed the kiss to happen—deliberately provoked it in front of a photographer, knowing the picture would probably appear in the newspaper the next day, where everyone would be sure to see it.
She sat up in bed. “And all the times you escorted her to events? Nothing happened between you?”
The hair on his arms rose along with the sound of her voice. To distract himself from the growing energy in the room, Rolf placed his arms behind his head and focused on the ceiling. “I was working.”
She continued to gaze at him, but when he didn’t respond, she sighed and lay back down. Time passed, and although he didn’t read her thoughts, he could hear her mind clicking along, comparing what she had believed about him with what he had just relayed. Silence reigned, broken only by the sound of a car passing by on the street outside the window. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, though. He could feel her seething emotions—sense her anger, frustration, hurt.
Her quiet voice broke the stillness, quivering with intensity. “Why do you hate me?”
His stomach retracted, his heart lurched in his chest, and the blood zipped through his veins on a mission to destroy what remained of his aching heart. There it was. The large mammal in the room with them. The biggest lie of all he’d made her believe—that he hated her. The lie she’d swallowed hook, line, and sinker and continued to believe all these years later.
“Don’t pretend to be sleeping. I know you’re awake.”
There was no way out. No way to keep from hurting her. No way to let her believe, even for a moment, that he cared for her. That there was a fighting chance they could ever be together.
“Answer me.” She sat up and turned on the light. In the soft glow, it wasn’t difficult to make out the curves of her slim silhouette underneath the white T-shirt she wore. She didn’t have a bra on.
He held his breath, unable to look away. His heartbeat stopped and then slammed hard in his chest.
“Rolf, don’t you remember how it used to be? We were friends once. I looked up to you. You were my protector. I always knew I could turn to you when there was trouble. What happened between us? What did I ever do to earn your dislike?”
Nothing. She had done nothing.
The slight tremble in her voice was nearly his undoing. He had to fight every ounce of his will not to go to her but instead to move his body up and out of bed and begin packing his things. He had to get out of here. Now. Away from the temptation she represented. He couldn’t trust himself to stay a minute longer. Her brothers understood it on a psychic level, even if they didn’t fully understand who or what he was.
He found his suitcase, threw his toothbrush inside, zipped it.
“Where are you going?” She stood too close, smelling like fresh air and heaven.
Rolf gritted his teeth and didn’t respond. He couldn’t. She touched his arm, and he was done. He turned so fast, she tumbled into him. He caught her before she fell. Her small hands gripped his shoulders, and her soft chest pressed against his own. And there was that damn smell again, reminding him of the apple trees that grew in a long line on Nonna’s farm. He could feel her curves through the thin T-shirt she wore.
Let her go.
His mind shouted the warning, but his body didn’t listen. His hands held her close, and his lungs breathed her in. Mine. Dark energy shifted, moved, swirled inside him. The man in him would deny the bond, but the dark knew better. It claimed her for its true mate. Urged him to meld his mind with hers—to create a link so they could share thoughts freely. Dear God, it grew impossible to resist this connection between them.
Geneva must have also felt the shift in energy, but this time, she didn’t push him away. No, she stayed put, a warm invitation.
“Rolf. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He gritted his teeth and clamped down on the darkness with all his might. He grabbed the car keys from her hands, thrust her from him, and headed out the door.
“Rolf, wait.”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Her brothers were right to hate him.
9
Julia
Geneva tossed and turned in the double bed, sleeping on and off until morning. When she awoke, she lay on her back and gazed at the ceiling with burning eyes and wondered if Rolf had managed to sleep comfortably in the small car. She hoped he spent the night like she did, restless and aching and empty.
For a moment last night, she’d had the insane idea he desired her. Had found herself anticipating his kiss as if the attraction between them were mutual, and all she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers. My God, she’d practically thrust herself upon him. She cringed at the memory. He didn’t want her in that way. It had all been a fantasy of her own making.
She swallowed the dryness in her mouth and checked the time on her cell phone. Eight in the morning. She shut her eyes, but her mind circled the evening’s activities like birds of prey. They’d missed something. Some important piece of the puzzle. Painful exhaustion cramped her muscles. She couldn’t stop thinking about the last twenty-four hours—their flight from Cleveland, arrival at the hotel, visit to the vortex, the nightmare.
Someone had wanted her to kill Rolf. Someone had known or anticipated their arrival at the vortex. Someone had infused a crystal with an exorbitant amount of dream energy. Enough energy to bring her worst nightmare to life. Enough energy to cause her to lose control. There were plenty of dream talents in the CMU. The stored energy could have belonged to any one of them. But Julia was in Arizona. And before Geneva had been swept into the nightmare, she’d sensed something familiar about the concentrated energy.
She snapped her eyes open, sat up in bed, and peered into the room, searching for answers. Julia had been forced to—somehow—charge a crystal with a massive amount of her energy.
Geneva flung off the covers and headed to the bathroom, her thoughts a chaotic mess. Only one other person had ever charged a crystal—at least that she had witnessed—her former partner, David Jenkins. Desperation had driven him to try it—his future wife lay dying. The stone was special—had been in the Jenkins family for decades. Geneva would not have believed it possible if she hadn’t witnessed the incredible feat. David had used the crystal to store his wife’s memories and then restore them later, bringing her back from a near-comatose state.
She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes looked wide and bruised and fearful. If David’s family had a special stone, then why couldn’t there be similar stones out there? And if David charged a crystal, why couldn’t Julia? All it took was a strong talent, and Julia certainly possessed the power to manipulate massive quantities of dream energy.
