Parallel Heat (23 page)

‘‘I’m—not feeling well suddenly,’’ he told them. ‘‘Mind if I use your bathroom?’’

‘‘Of course,’’ Jared said. ‘‘We’ll wait for you.’’

 
Marco bent over their bathroom sink, splashing cold water onto his face repeatedly. He couldn’t stop gasping, drawing heated breaths into his lungs.

He stared into the mirror at his wet face, trying to get his breathing under control.
Gods above,
he thought, panicking.
What the hell just happened?

For a full ten seconds he’d dropped into the middle of Jared and Kelsey’s connection, and it had been as if the floor had literally been yanked from underneath him, catapulting him right inside their bond.

The emotions had been unbelievable and overpowering, and it was terrain where he’d never been meant to go because it was far too intimate. He’d felt heat rush all through his own body as their mutual energy spiraled within him.

And he’d experienced so much love that it had literally knocked the air from his lungs.

He’d never believed that two people could love one another like that—the way he’d just sensed between them—and it left him feeling horribly lonely. It was as if in the wake of intercepting their connection, his solitude had stood in stark relief. As much as he cared for Thea already—as deep as it was—he would be forever denied what he’d just glimpsed.

He blotted his face with a towel, his body calming somewhat, recovering from the unexpected shock. He could never have anticipated the physical reaction to what he’d just experienced; he’d been hit with a huge blast of Refarian energy so strong it had nearly driven him to his knees.

Jared and Kelsey Bennett were far more powerful than anyone suspected, and it had nothing to do with the mitres data. The key lay in the way they joined. They could do it without even touching; he shook his head in disbelief because the power he’d felt was unlike anything he’d ever even heard of. And being suspended right within their bond for those few moments had changed his understanding of their relationship permanently. Of what a relationship could be. More than that, the pain and heartbreak he’d sensed between them over Jared’s infertility had almost destroyed him.

He stared at his eyes in the mirror, and couldn’t shake the eerie sensation that somehow, even more significantly, this event had just altered his own relationship with the two of them . . . irrevocably. And he prayed with all his protector’s heart that the change was a good thing.

 
Marco rushed headlong down the hallway, frantic and wrestling to still his thoughts. He should never have been able to intercept such tender emotions between his king and queen—much less have known their deepest pain. He felt as if he’d violated them without ever intending to. His head hammered with a violent headache, the likes of which he hadn’t had in years—not a good sign at all, not for him. What would be a casual annoyance to anyone else was a deep signal that his darkest self had been awakened.

He was contemplating that fact and how he would explain it to Sabrina—for, after all, any violations between a Madjin and his protected had to be reported to his unit leader immediately—when he rounded a corner in the hallway and slammed into Thea.

‘‘You all right?’’ she asked quizzically as he steadied her by the shoulders.

‘‘Sorry,’’ he grumbled, pushing past her.

‘‘Just like that, huh?’’ she called after him, but he hurried on to his room. When he reached it, he yanked open the door and, feeling his legs grow unsteady beneath him, sank onto the edge of his bed. The room was spinning; his emotions were careening. Nothing in his universe felt sane or still. For a brief moment he thought he’d actually be sick, his stomach was knotting and protesting so heavily from what had just opened in him.

‘‘Gods,’’ he whispered, then, ‘‘All! Help me. Help.’’

Almost as if in cue, his door flung open without even a knock. Thea stood in the brightly lit doorway staring at him in irritated concern. ‘‘What was that about?’’ she demanded. ‘‘Just brushing past me.’’

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. The contrast between the bright light in the hallway and the dark, womblike shadows of his bedroom only caused his headache to ratchet tighter behind his eyes. ‘‘Thea, I’m sick,’’ he managed, wishing everything would stop spinning.

He heard the door close softly, and then the sound of her quiet footsteps on the hardwood. Then her cool hand pressed against his forehead. ‘‘You’re fevered,’’ she said quietly. ‘‘When did this happen? Jared told me you were working with them this morning on training.’’

‘‘I was,’’ he said with a gasp. ‘‘Was. Feel unwell. Please, Thea . . . go.’’

She settled on the bed beside him and slowly rubbed a hand across his tight shoulders. ‘‘I’m not leaving you like this,’’ she said simply. ‘‘I’ve got a simple healing gift, not much of a gift really, but I can probably help you.’’

Jerking his head sideways, he stared hard into her eyes. ‘‘No.’’ His voice sounded like cold-edged steel, so he worked to soften his tone; none of this was her fault. ‘‘Please, no. I need time alone.’’

‘‘Something happened,’’ she observed, suddenly sensing it within his heart. Something so troubling and upsetting, he had shut down like a wounded animal—run to protect himself in the privacy of his room. ‘‘I feel it, Marco. You need to talk to me.’’

‘‘I was working with them,’’ he breathed, burying his head deeper in his hands. ‘‘And it was wrong. Dead wrong. I have no right to know these things—the intimate feelings they have for one another.’’

‘‘Was it your intuition?’’ She wasn’t entirely following him; in fact, he was talking somewhat nonsensically. She wasn’t sure if it was how ill he felt or whatever had happened in Jared’s chambers that was upsetting him so much.

‘‘I sensed things, Thea. Felt things. I . . . slipped into their bond. Was right in the middle of it, suspended, couldn’t leave.’’ He gave a pained, wounded cry, pressing both hands to his temples. ‘‘In All’s name, this headache!’’ he moaned. ‘‘It’s been so damned long. So long.’’

‘‘So long since
what
?’’ she urged. ‘‘Please, Marco, tell me more.’’

‘‘This has to have been how it happened in that other life,’’ Marco whispered, dropping his hands away from his face. ‘‘Don’t you see, Thea? It’s
me
. It’s this darkness in me. That’s the reason our memories of one another are all poison—because I’m capable of betrayal. Ruin. Because of this thing, this damned, cursed
thing
inside of me!’’

She pressed her hand against his forehead, using her secondary gift of healing to alleviate his pain. Instantly, she saw relief wash over his features. He closed his eyes, the curling black lashes fanning against his cheeks. ‘‘Thank you,’’ he whispered.

‘‘You shouldn’t have to hurt.’’

‘‘Maybe that’s the best someone like me deserves,’’ he spat bitterly.

‘‘Marco, you’re not cursed.’’ Thea reached for his hand where it rested on his thigh, covering it with hers. ‘‘You’re good. Beautiful. Don’t you understand? I could love you, Marco. I could totally, completely love you . . . and I wouldn’t feel that way if you were the corrupt man you claim to be.’’

He turned haunted, narrowed eyes upon her. ‘‘But you don’t know me, Thea.’’ His voice was so raw it chilled her. ‘‘Not really—or what’s inside of me. In the mitres, I saw what I did. I know exactly what sort of man I am.’’

She tossed up her hands in exasperation. ‘‘What are you even
talking
about? You had a vision in the mitres . . . you slipped into Jared and Kelsey’s bond. That’s not enough basis for—’’

‘‘Listen to me, Thea.’’ He rose and walked away from her, pacing the cramped length of his room. She waited for him to speak, and was surprised to realize her chest was heaving with urgent gasps; he was frightening her to the marrow of her bones. After several long moments he stilled, standing by the small window that looked out onto a bank of snow outside. A tiny aperture of morning sky was visible, revealing gray cloud-covering. He braced his hand on the ledge, and stared upward, somber, and at last he spoke. ‘‘What I am, Thea, is the worst kind of curse.’’

‘‘That’s not possible.’’ She laughed nervously. ‘‘It doesn’t even make sense.’’

‘‘You asked about Marek—that first night.’’ He gazed back at her meaningfully, as if the mention of that name would put his ranting into some sort of logical context. ‘‘You knew the name, from the beginning.’’

‘‘I heard it from across the bar the first night,’’ she agreed quietly. ‘‘What does he have to do with all this? You told me he was a dead man.’’ She met his blazing stare. It reminded her of Jared, that deeply burning nature of a D’Aravnian, such power and intensity showed within his Madjin’s eyes.

‘‘He is a dead man.’’

‘‘Then why did you just mention him?’’

Marco shook his head, saying nothing. ‘‘They can’t . . . cycle,’’ he finally whispered, deep melancholy overcoming his expression. ‘‘Jared and Kelsey can’t—I heard that. I have no right to know about their problems with fertility and mating. They’re in such pain and I felt it all, particularly from Kelsey.’’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘‘It was too much, what I sensed. What I heard between them. Their feelings for one another, the love, it’s beyond anything I could even imagine between two people. Except—’’ Abruptly he stopped speaking, the olive-gold of his face flushing deeply.

‘‘Except between us,’’ Thea finished for him, instinctively knowing his thoughts. He dropped his head, the blush intensifying in his face.

‘‘I wanted it. In that moment, what I felt between them . . . I craved what they have. I craved to be Jared.’’

Thea jerked back in horror. ‘‘You wanted . . . her?’’ she asked, her throat going dry.

‘‘No, I didn’t want Kelsey.’’ He shook his head, pressing the back of his hand against his flushed cheek. ‘‘I wanted to
cycle
,’’ he admitted softly, lifting his eyes until their gazes locked. ‘‘With you, Thea. You experience mating heat like Jared should, right? I know you do, I sense it.’’

Now it was Thea’s turn to feel her face flame hot. She began to tremble and her core self bucked upward, desperate to be known. Every instinct that had driven her through her past seven mating cycles squirmed inside of her, edging forward, screaming Marco’s name. ‘‘Please don’t,’’ she barely managed through gritted teeth. ‘‘You don’t mean that. So don’t.’’

What Marco couldn’t know was that if he didn’t stop, he’d either incite her Change before she could stop herself, or, even worse, he’d spark her mating season into action. She’d had little control of her cycles in the past year; they’d been coming faster and with more velocity than she’d been able to handle. Even speaking of her season with an unmated Refarian male such as Marco—especially a man she desired to such dangerous proportions anyway—could well ignite her parched needs. Seven cycles she’d passed, each time remaining a virgin; it had become almost unbearable.

‘‘What does it feel like to go through your mating season?’’ he continued, running his tongue across his lips with a motion that caused her entire body to quiver with lust. ‘‘It’s important—I’ve got to know.’’

‘‘Why?’’

‘‘Because of what I felt between our king and queen earlier—I know things now, about you and your nature, Thea. It’s . . . driven me to the edge. I can’t control this need anymore, and by the gods, I
need
you—so damned bad it’s tearing me apart inside.’’

‘‘Then forget your vows!’’ she suddenly shouted, bolting to her feet. ‘‘Forget everything that you claim to be, and—and’’ she sputtered—‘‘make
love
to me! Finally, just do it!’’

Without meaning to, without even a breath, she Changed and appeared before him in all her golden, whirling power and beauty. She hadn’t been able to control it, the compulsion had been that intense and leveling. More than any thing in the universe, she wanted Marco McKinley to see her most natural self.

Need him,
she thought, shimmying in a spiral.

Oh, trouble,
she thought darkly and gave another gyrating whirl.
He trouble!

 
Marco was utterly breathless. Never in all his twenty-eight years had he seen a more erotic, gorgeous being.
My Thea. Mine!
She had to be; he couldn’t ever let another man gaze upon her this way, naked and glorious. His cock grew rock-hard in an instant, straining within his uniform pants. She spun, pirouetted before him, pure alluring power, then suddenly withdrew to the far side of the room. He could hardly restrain himself as she awakened such primal, driving need in his loins and heart.

‘‘Don’t.’’ He gulped hard, yanking his sweater over his head so that he stood before her bare-chested. ‘‘Baby, don’t back away,’’ he begged in a voice so thick, that even he hardly recognized it. ‘‘Show me what you are. Everything, baby. I need you . . . just like this.’’

With a pulsating gyration, her energy expanded, growing from its compact size into something like streaks of golden-red light.
Why in hell should Thea’s natural form turn me on like this?
he wondered, reaching a hand to touch his bare chest. It burned with her heat. He took a step closer her; then another.

No!
she sang in his mind, half-shrill, half whisper.
Stay. Away!

‘‘I’ve gotta touch you, baby. Please,’’ he begged. ‘‘I can’t stop.’’

Her speech had become far simpler, primitive, which he could only assume was part of her natural self. Basic, primal, and sexy as hell!

He couldn’t breathe for how badly he wanted her; he swore he was going to come right inside his pants if he weren’t careful, she had aroused him that completely in a matter of moments. Standing before her, he slipped a hand between his own legs and, just gazing upon her, began to rub his thick erection.

He groaned, gasped, and then, with fumbling fingers, unzipped his pants and they slipped to the floor, pooling around his ankles.
Yes!
she whispered in the depth of his soul.
Oh, love, love!