“I can spirit-walk,” I said, glancing away from him.
His head tilted to the side as he studied my features. “I don’t understand.”
“My spirit leaves my body and roams free on another plane or dimension. I’m like a ghost. No one can see me, but I see them. No one can hear me, but I hear them. I’ll spirit-walk to Jonathan’s, watch him, listen to him, and he’ll never know.”
For a long while, Lucius continued to study me. He stared down at me, his ice-blue gaze unreadable. Then he said, “You’ve done this to me.” His tone was devoid of emotion, as well.
I didn’t try to deny it. “Yes.”
“At Jonathan’s.”
“Yes,” I said again. “How did you know?” I’d suspected then that he’d sensed me, but the thought had been laughable. Then. Not any longer.
“I smelled you. No one smells like you, like rich, warm honey…” He paused. “And sex.”
I expected him to be angry at what I’d done, but he surprised me by adding, “Smart trick. Can you take your weapons?”
“I take whatever is strapped to my body.”
“Does Michael know any of this?”
Looking away, I shook my head.
His expression became pensive. “Why not? What’s the downside?”
I hated admitting to weakness of any kind, but he had to know. “If I’m gone too long, my body grows weak. Plus, while I’m gone my body is left completely vulnerable to attack. Someone can hurt me, kill me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. No way I can fight.”
He paused, tense as my words churned inside his mind. “So if the room your physical body is in catches on fire—”
“I burn with it.”
Pause. Then, “Is your spirit ever in danger?”
“Only if my body is hurt.”
Silence surrounded us as he pondered everything I’d said. Finally, he nodded. “Then do it. We need to know what’s going on.”
“If someone comes to the door—”
“I know what to do.”
Yes, he knew exactly what to do. He’d kill if he had to. He’d create a distraction if he had to. No one would get into this room without his approval. “Where can I find Jonathan?”
Lucius named several places. I nodded, leaned toward him, and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “No worries,” I told him. “I know what to do, too.”
“You just get back here in one piece. Understand?”
Chapter 18
After I dressed, I lay back atop the yellow sheets and closed my eyes. A deliciously naked, but awake Lucius rested beside me. Not even his sultry scent could distract me from my unease.
I was nervous about doing this in front of him. The fact that I felt his intense blue stare boring into me didn’t help. Just do it.
Deep breath in, deep breath out—more of Lucius’s scent. Concentrate. Another deep breath gradually released. Save the girl. That’s what mattered. Very slowly, my mind faded to black. My body relaxed into the mattress. My energy centered inside my stomach, swirling and pushing for release. My spirit began to rise up, up, and then I was standing beside the bed, looking at myself. And Lucius.
His bare skin glowed in the moonlight. My hair draped over him like a blanket, playing peekaboo with his nipples. The golden hue of my skin complemented the bronze of his. As he lay beside me, his big, hard body could have completely engulfed and overshadowed my smaller, seemingly delicate one. But it didn’t. I looked protected by him. Even…loved?
I shied away from that thought, though a sense of rightness lingered.
He fingered several strands of my hair between his fingers. “Be careful,” he whispered.
The huskiness of his voice sent a shiver through me. I shouldn’t have, but I did relish his concern for me. Unbidden, I reached out for him, for his heat. I allowed my fingers to caress his chest. Sometimes, with intense concentration, I could actually bring an object into this enigmatic realm with me. Now, however, my fingers simply coasted through him.
He sucked in a breath, and his muscles jerked under my touch.
I forced myself to step away, to leave the house altogether. I had a job to do.
Because I was not bonded to Jonathan in any way, I had to find him on my own, without any invisible tug. When I spied a sedan on the side of a dim road, I slipped inside. The driver, an older male human, tapped his foot impatiently against the floorboards as he waited for the car to finish changing its own flat tire. Soon we were flying down the highway, listening to songs about beer and nasty women and pickup trucks.
When the man swerved down a different exit than I needed, I simply propelled myself through the car door, like mist leaving at morning’s first light. I floated to the ground and treaded over two miles through forest before finally reaching my destination. Most of the inside lights were out, making the home appear dark and littered with shadows. Anticipatory, I slipped over the bridge and past the front door. That anticipation dimmed after a thorough search of every room.
Jonathan was not home, nor were any servants up and around, but I did catch a glimpse of his wife. She lay on a lacy bed better suited for a fairy princess, and I watched as the shell of a woman sucked back a mutated form of Onadyn as if it were her favorite candy. As the drug worked its way through her body, her mind flew higher and higher, as if she were being asphyxiated. A few days of that, and she’d be dead.
Shaking my head, I caught a ride to one of the other places Lucius had mentioned, a dim, smoky private bar. Gyrating music blared from every corner. There were about thirty occupants, a dozen or so men interspersed with naked, dancing women. Some of the women were other-worlders. A Mec, like EenLi, with glowing greenish skin that proclaimed her arousal, slid provocatively up and down a pole. She had no breasts, only a flat chest that appeared softer than silk. Strangely enough, the human men couldn’t get enough of her. They constantly petted her skin as if they were addicted to her touch.
But I’d finally found my man.
Jonathan sat alone, drinking golden liquid from a crystal glass. He watched the dancing women silently, his expression pensive and drawn. One woman, a Delensean with blue hair, azure skin, and four arms, approached him, a seductive pout to her cerulean lips. He growled and shooed her away with a stiff wave of his hand.
I claimed the seat in front of him and studied him, this enemy of mine. His clothes were wrinkled, and lines of tension bracketed his mouth. Here, he wasn’t the smooth, stylish man he’d been at the party.
He remained where he was for the next hour. Why was he here? Was he waiting for someone? He never spoke to anyone, only raised his index finger every so often to signal his need for another drink. After he finished his fourth glass, the wall clock flashed five A.M. A look of determination settled over his features, and he very calmly stood and strode from the building.
I blinked in surprise, but followed him. A car and driver waited for him out front.
“Home,” he told the driver, his first word of the night.
He settled in the plush back seat, and I slipped in beside him—just as the door closed on half of my ghostly form. A slight tingle worked through me, my spirit’s only reaction.
The car eased into motion. Jonathan stared out the window the entire drive, and the closer he came to his estate, the deeper the lines of anxiety around his mouth became. What the hell was wrong with him? Damn it, I wanted inside his head.
Once he reached his home, I followed him as he pounded up the stairs and into a bedroom. Not his wife’s, I noticed, but his own, a room with masculine decor in dark shades of greens and blues. I hadn’t had time to study it last time I’d been here. The large four-poster bed had blood red silk sheets, and there were mirrors on the ceiling. A harness hung in the far right corner, and a clear plastic carpet covered the floor below it—to prevent any bodily fluids from staining his pristine floor.