He let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know what your dreams are like, but no.”
I tried to sit up, but he gently pressed me back against the cool cotton sheets. “I blacked out again,” I realized. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. A red welt ran the length of Dane’s cheekbone. “What happened to your face?”
He averted his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“Wait . . . did I do that?”
His silence spoke volumes.
Why would I go after him like that? “Did I give you that scratch on your neck, too?”
“I surprised you, that’s all.” He brushed it off. “It’s my fault. You’re not supposed to interfere with a conduit when she’s having a vision, but you keep running away from me.”
I inspected my hands. There was nothing there to indicate I’d punched someone—no soreness, no scratches. “How do you find me?”
“You know how I can feel the energy in the corn? I feel you, too.” A hint of a smile passed over his lips as he leaned over to adjust my pillow. “You’re surprisingly predictable.”
“You’re not, though, are you?” I inhaled slowly, taking in his scent. “You can pull me back. How?”
“Maybe I’m your lucky charm. All I have to do is get you to look in my eyes while I say your name.” He swept my hair from my shoulder. “What did you see tonight?”
“Marie. She tied a letter to a pink quartz and set it under a tree. She asked the Great Spirit to grant her immortality, but the Great Spirit refused. Marie thought Coronado would leave her if she couldn’t give him eternal life.”
Dane took my hands in his.
I stared out the window at the lake. “As she was being dragged through the corn she looked up and said, ‘I thought you loved me.’” My skin prickled up in goose bumps at the memory. “I know Coronado was probably using Marie to get to Alonso and Katia, but why did he have to kill her? Just because she couldn’t make him immortal . . . or was it to hurt Katia?”
“Coronado is very cunning,” Dane said softly as he looked down at me.
“I know he’s bad, but when I saw him face-to-face at the outer perimeter, he didn’t seem like a monster. And when he said Marie’s name, I got the feeling he really loved her.” I exhaled, hoping to dispel the bitter feeling from my bloodstream, but it lingered.
“What do you think Marie’s trying to tell you?” Dane asked.
“I don’t know, but the visions keep leading me back to the chasm in the sacred circle. There’s something there that Marie wants me to see.”
“You’ll find it, when the time is right.”
“That’s the thing . . . time’s running out. There’s only three more days until the summer solstice. And the memories are getting stronger, and coming more often. Everything’s merging together . . . dreams and reality. I’m afraid I might disappear completely.”
Dane stroked the palm of my hand. “I’ve always been able to pull you back. I remember that first night. You were talking about a light.”
“That was real?” I looked up at him in shock. “You were actually with me?”
A sly smile played across his lips.
“Did you kiss me?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Maybe.” He twined a strand of my hair around his finger.
I glanced down at his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“At first, I wasn’t sure if it was my dream.”
The black silk ribbon unfurled from my wrist to coil around Dane’s. He smiled. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you on that night.”
“But that wasn’t really me,” I said as I pulled my hand away to secure the ribbon around my wrist again.
“It has nothing to do with you being a conduit.” He leaned in closer. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
I reached out and touched the brand on his inner arm, my fingers lingering on the warmth that still lived there. “Does it hurt?”
He stared back at me with an intense expression that I couldn’t decipher. “It does right now.”
I pulled his arm toward me, pressing my lips against his scarred skin. I kissed it long and slow, pouring all of my intention into that one kiss.
“Would you want an immortal life?” I whispered.
A deep crease settled between his brows. “If you’d asked me that before tonight, the answer would’ve been no.”
“What’s changed?”
“Do you really want this to end?” He brushed his hands from my waist, over my hips, tracing the curve of my body beneath the sheet.
My blood seemed to rush to the surface of my skin to meet his touch.
He leaned in closer. “Have you tried resisting the memories?”
“It’s impossible,” I whispered.
He caressed my cheek. “You told me that when you touch me, it’s similar to the feeling you get when the memories take over.”
“Yes,” I said, a deep blush settling into my face.
“Maybe you should practice on me.”