VISIONS OF HEAT

“I think you and Sascha both need to hear that. Have breakfast and give Faith time to wake up.”


Lucas nodded and followed his mate inside. Vaughn felt a strange tension release from his shoulders. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the source, but something about the other cat had set him on edge, though Lucas was his friend in the truest sense of the word. They’d never been just alpha and sentinel. The loyalty forged in the dark days of their childhoods went both ways—he trusted Lucas as absolutely as the other male trusted him. But all of a sudden his instincts were reacting as if the other man were a threat.

Frowning, he returned his attention to the woman in his arms. He had a reason for keeping her outside. From what Sascha had told them since she’d become part of DarkRiver, Psy were used to living in boxes and it seemed Faith had been more boxed in than most. But she’d had no problem walking into a forest on her own so maybe a hidden sense in this particular Psy craved the freedom to be found in the wild.

A tiny movement. He ran his hand up and down her arm, fingering the material of her shirt and stroking her back to wakefulness. As her head shifted against his chest, he used his feet to make the swing sway gently back and forth. Her eyelashes lifted and fluttered back down, then lifted again.

“How was your nap, Red?” He lowered the volume of his voice in an effort to keep this conversation private.

She balled up a fist against his chest. “Why are you touching me?” were the first words out of her mouth. They were soft and a little husky.

“Why aren’t you seizing again?”

Night-sky eyes blinked and, sitting up, she used both hands to push her hair off her face. “You’re correct. Why am I not having another seizure?”

Surprised, he had no response. Sascha and Lucas came back out at that instant. The look on Sascha’s face when she saw Faith, awake and apparently aware, was priceless. Lucas had grabbed a couple of chairs from inside the house and now placed them so they faced Vaughn and Faith. “Sit.”

Sascha obeyed, hands full with two plates of food. “You okay?” she asked as Lucas took the bigger plate off her hands.

“I believe so.” Faith rubbed her temples. “All my shields are holding against . . .” She paused and seemed to have to force the next words out: “Against the PsyNet.” There was something very relieved about that statement, and suddenly Vaughn knew Faith’s greatest fear. When she made a move to get off his lap, he had the urge to force her to stay, but that very urge made him let go.

She stood on shaky feet and took a deep breath. “Yes, I think I’m fine. Though the block against talking about the PsyNet is quite strong.”

“Tell them about your vision, Red.” He’d guessed what she’d seen, but he wanted her to talk about it, confront it.

She covered the small distance to the railing and seemed to focus her attention on the solid green of the trees. “It was another vision of heavy, formless darkness—the beginning. It’ll build up until there’s a murder to relieve the pressure. At least that’s how I think it works. I’ve never had any contact with a killer before.”

“Why do you call it darkness?” Lucas asked.

“I can’t see anything in detail. I merely get a sense of darkness.” It was as if she could find no other word to describe it. “There’s evil in the darkness, a malicious intent I understand, though I’ve never before experienced those things.” Her voice held an underlying thread of strain Vaughn could almost taste. “I think it’s because I’m somehow actually him for the time I’m having the visions.”

“Is any of that normal?” Sascha laid her fork down on her plate.

“No.” Faith’s back straightened and she finally turned to face them. “I usually see extremely clearly, details down to serial numbers, but it’s all very clean. I’m never a participant.”

“But not this time.” Vaughn didn’t like how she’d separated herself from the group when it was obvious she needed to be held.

“No.” Her eyes were bleeding to black again and the effect was eerie. “It’s like he reaches out and grabs me. I couldn’t snap out of the vision until you touched me.”

“Come sit here,” he ordered, at the end of his patience.

She shook her head. “You won’t keep your distance.”

“That’s exactly what you need.”

“Who are you to make that judgment?”

“I saw something in your room this morning. Come here and I’ll tell you what.”

Her eyes were completely black by this point and full of suspicion. She took a few seconds to think about it before coming and sitting down on the swing . . . as far from him as physically possible. The cat wanted to snarl, but the male knew when to demand and when to let be.

“What did you see?” she asked. “You’re not Psy—what could you possibly have seen?”

“There was something around you when you woke. A physical blackness that looked real enough to touch.”

“Vaughn, are you sure?” Sascha leaned forward.