ShiftingHeat (20 page)

She stopped chopping, looked up. “Even in those days some
people knew.” Andros nodded.

She resumed her dissection of a green pepper. “I had no
choice. I went on the lam. Then I discovered that other people like me existed.
I kinda imagined I was the only one once my parents died. The relief!” She
laughed. “I bought papers. I was fourteen by then and I could work. So I did.
Moved on a lot. Then World War II happened. I didn’t see much of it, only its
effects, and war is a great way of changing identity. So by the end of the war
I was older, experienced, and I came to New York. I never left.” She grinned
and the chopping slowed. “I worked as a secretary, clerk, switchboard operator;
I was in a typing pool for over twenty years. I enjoyed it, liked fitting in
and having friends, but I knew better than to tell people what I was. I came
across the occasional shape-shifter of course, but I didn’t seek them out. Then
came the seventies and liberation. I got liberated. Went to Woodstock, dropped
out for a few years. My hippie friends thought my ability to breathe fire was a
real gas, and they never really believed it, thought it was some Eastern
mystical thing, or a magic trick.”

She glanced up. He felt her mind touch his, anxiously
checking. He sent her reassurance and she continued with her story. “A real twentieth-century
babe, that’s me. Eventually I ended up working in downtown New York at exactly
the right time, in the early eighties. I made a fortune. You should have seen
me, all big hair and wide-shouldered power suits. Ann Reynolds had nothing on
me.” She stopped.

“And that’s when you bought this place,” he prompted gently.

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “When I’d made enough, I
bought the building. Went into property and bought a few more. But once I’d
secured my future, I didn’t speculate, didn’t take part in the boom of the last
ten years. It didn’t feel right to me. I’ve always believed that what you
borrow you will have to pay back one day. Like I told you, small-town
mentality. In the late nineties I had to change my identity again, so I decided
to go back to my real name. It was starting to get much harder to do that. Records
were so much better. In the old days, you could get by on your own if you were
careful, but these days, when every life is recorded online, it’s harder. Still
possible though.

“I went back to college and did a degree in something I knew
little about, English literature. I read a lot, but I never did it in a
structured, ordered way. I loved it. So I carried on at college and got this
job. When Talents came out I decided to wait and see. I was happy in my job and
I knew what coming out meant, how it changed people and how they look at you.”

Although she’d recounted her story dispassionately, the tale
put a few things together in Andros’ head. Now he knew why she wanted to give
Talents the right to remain anonymous, if they wanted. Coming out had cost her
her parents, her way of life, forced her out into the world before she was
ready. He could understand that, more than she thought, perhaps.

“We lost our father early and our mother continued to live
in the family home. She refused to move out but she got real sick. We used the
money to pay for her treatment and her specialist home. So sometimes it happens
anyway. Ania gave her business up for our mother, in effect. I knew that if I
finished my degree I could get a better job and start paying her back, but it
never worked out that way. Now I get a great salary, I have a good job. And I’m
a dragon.”

She looked up and her eyes lit with amusement. “Yeah, how
about that.”

They shared the joke, incomprehensible to most people, but
theirs anyway. He loved that. He groped for his crutches and used one to help
him get to his feet. “Can I do anything?”

“Rest. I know you’re tired, I can feel it. Let me do this.
We’ll eat, maybe watch a little TV and then go to bed. An early night.”

“That sounds so good.”

Andros knew it didn’t get much better than this. But there
was always room for improvement. He planned to provide that later.

Damn, the woman knew how to prepare a steak. After teasing
him with the delicious scent of steak and onions, Faye didn’t disappoint. Blood
oozed out of his juicy, fat slab of meat and his taste buds responded. He
appreciated his ability to handle a steak knife. In his previous existence, even
that had been beyond him sometimes. His friends or companions would cut up his
meat for him, mostly with a matter-of-fact approach that he appreciated, but
hated that they had to do it.

He ate with relish and appetite, glad to see Faye doing the
same. When she caught him looking, he grinned and finished his mouthful,
pushing his plate away with a satisfied sigh. “You’ll need your strength for
later,” she said. She gave him a cheeky smile and rose from the table by the
window to take their plates away. “You don’t look disabled right now. You look
strong and fit.” She carried the plates to the breakfast bar and put them down.

“That’s because I’m sitting down. And because you can see
past the fuzzing. It’s there all the time, but you just push straight through
it.” He wanted to give her something, a chance to see him as he was. “Let it
take you. When you feel the vibration, let it have its way. Then you’ll see me
as others are seeing me right now. As I was until recently.”

He felt her concentration and forced himself to relax. The
Sorcerer who’d helped him had strengthened the fuzzing effect, so he couldn’t
get rid of it until he shape-shifted, or he would have dropped it for her. She
opened her mind so he could share the vision. Odd, seeing himself through
someone else’s eyes, but he recognized the skinny figure she was seeing. Narrow
wrists, bones pressing against a thin coating of flesh. Veins blue against the
pale, almost translucent skin.

That was the Andros he recognized. The new, healthy one
startled him sometimes when he caught sight of himself in a mirror unexpectedly.

“Andros—”

Would she feel sorry for him, treat him with more delicacy?
He saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes and hated them, but he’d asked for
this, for her to see him as he often saw himself.

“God, you’re so much stronger than I imagined.”

“No I’m not. Like I told you before, I just accepted what
was. You did it too, didn’t you?”

She frowned, then nodded. “I believe I did. But that was
different—”

“Everyone’s experience is different. It’s what’s inside that
sometimes connects.”

“Connects. I like that.” Her frown melted away and she
reached for him at the same time he reached for her.

He stumbled when he got to his feet and the chair growled
against the floor in response.

She grabbed him and her strength held both of them upright. While
they leaned together, he brought his mouth down to hers and they shared a long,
sweet kiss. He let her support him and concentrated on kissing her to within an
inch of her life.

They left the rest of the debris from their meal to deal
with later. She led the way upstairs, Andros coping with the broad, wooden
steps with, if not ease, at least a great deal of eagerness. Her big bedroom
was dominated by a large bed, gauzy white drapes caught up on brass hooks in
the shape of dolphins that were suspended from the ceiling. Light, airy, but
with a feminine touch that invited him in, as if he were entering a private,
forbidden zone. The thought drove his arousal higher.

A room made for seduction. How many men…? Before he could drown
his wayward thought in the depths of his mind she caught it. “I’ve never
brought anyone here before. I won’t lie to you. Pretty soon I won’t be able
to.”

“What do you mean, won’t be able to?” He gazed into the
sharp, clever face that meant so much to him already.

“If we open completely, we’ll bond. As far as I know it’s
something you have to consent to, but I’ve heard of it happening by itself. Do
you know about bonding?”

“Some.” His sister hadn’t bonded with Johann yet, but she’d
talked about it once. Said Johann wanted her to think about it.

“You should, now you’re a Talent.”

He watched her, reached for her with one hand. His crutch
clattered to the floor. He trusted her to hold him up until they decided to lie
down. “Tell me.”

“When Talents bond they become one. Their minds merge.
They’re never without each other, always together. They can’t build barriers to
keep the other out. Any privacy is given by consent. Their lives end at the
same moment. It has to be a conscious decision and voluntary.”

“Is it what Talents want?” It sounded scary to him.

“Some. Many don’t, even married couples don’t always do it.
Some people just need that space, and some are scared to take the step. Some
leave total bonding until one of them is dying, then the other will join them.”
She offered a light smile. “I just thought you ought to know. We can’t do it
without agreeing to do so. Or so I understand.”

“Have you ever been tempted?” He knew she must have had
lovers before but he didn’t want to think about them. He wanted her to himself
with a selfishness that appalled and enthralled him in equal measure.

“Never.” She bit her lip.

He watched her sharp teeth dent the delectable flesh and
leaned forward, but before he kissed her she murmured something. He thought it
was “Before now”. But he couldn’t be sure and he wouldn’t ask her to repeat it.
Not yet.

Her mouth tasted of steak, wine and Faye. The last part
tempted him more than anything else could. He went back for more and nearly
took himself off balance. She drew back with a light laugh. “I think we should
move to the bed, don’t you?”

“Probably.”

Using his one remaining crutch, he followed her to the bed
and unsuccessfully tried to suppress his sigh of relief when he lowered himself
onto the soft white comforter. He lay back and opened his arms. “Come to me, my
darlink,” he said in a deliberately bad German accent. “Fill my arms with your
loveliness.”

“You sound like Frankenstein.” She giggled, adorably sweetly.
She lay on her side next to him and traced his lips with one finger.

“Didn’t he just say ‘mmm’ a lot?”

Laughter pealed through the room. “That was the monster who
said mmm. Frankenstein was the man who built him. He said a lot more.”

“Come with me to the Casbah?” He frowned. “No, that’s not
right.”

“That was a different old film.” She dropped a light kiss on
his lips. “Shut up before your pop references get tangled up beyond rescuing.”

They got tangled up in each other instead. He buried his
mouth in the hollow at the base of her throat, kissed and licked and inhaled,
loving her scent, feeling his cock respond in a suitably promising way.

He undid her blouse, button by button, kissing each bit of
skin as it became exposed. Caressing it with his mouth, stroking it with the
tips of his fingers, exploring the subtle changes in texture. He took his time
and when he pushed her blouse off her shoulders and she sat up to rid herself
of it, her hands tangled in the fabric. “I haven’t undone the buttons on the
cuffs.”

“Then I have you.” He pushed her down onto the bed. She
gazed up at him, white fabric bunched under her from the comforter and her
blouse, her hands behind her, her breasts pushed forward. Leaning on one elbow,
he bent down and anointed one peak with his tongue, tickling it through the
thin, silky fabric of her bra. He left a wet mark, her nipple becoming more
visible, rosy and utterly delectable. He sucked it, turned to the other, loved
the way it hardened under his tongue.

She’d stopped struggling and her breath came unevenly. “How
do you do that?”

“What?”

“Make me want you so fast. I thought I was a slow burner.”

Unable to resist, he delivered another kiss to her left
nipple. “Not in my experience.”

She gasped and lifted her upper body toward him, an erotic
sight that forced sharp tingles to ripple over his body that had nothing to do
with his induced condition. Far more enjoyable than the sharp twinges and
twitches that were part of Becker’s.

The next moment her eyes sparked with a red flare. She’d
partially shape-shifted. Not enough to show it in her body, but she’d gained
some of the strength of her other self. And he knew he was a goner. He couldn’t
partially shape-shift to combat her without losing his disguise, but all the
same, the shape-shift sent a surge of pure desire roaring through his body, one
he barely understood.

She dispensed with her bindings with one flex of her muscles.
Fabric tore and left her with a few ribbons of white silk hanging from her
wrists and the cuffs, which remained intact. Her eyes glittered as she gazed at
him. “You’d better get those things off if you want to keep them.”

Laughing, he dispensed with his clothes as fast as he could,
feeling her hot stare bathe his skin. His cock rose, hard for her already, its
tip darkened with desire. She peeled off what was left of her own clothes at a
more leisurely pace, but didn’t take her gaze from him. Their breath marked the
silence, harsher pants coming as she revealed more of her body, as she examined
his.

He knelt up on the bed but as soon as she’d stripped, she
pounced. He grabbed her thigh as he went down on his back, sprawled on the soft
duvet, and felt an extra shot of heat. When he moved, he felt the lines under
his palm. Her mark. Raised lines delineated the creature they became in their
other form. He wanted to see it but he wanted her more. And Faye was attacking
him with delicious thoroughness.

She sucked one of his nipples, then the other, ending with a
nip that shot straight to his groin. He cupped her head in his hands, threaded
his fingers through the thick, wavy locks, but didn’t try to prevent her going
where she wanted, doing what she wanted. Keeping his mind locked firmly to
hers, he shared his emotions with her. All of them, even the less than macho
ones, the gratitude for her help, the anger his weakness always evoked, even
now, and most of all, he opened completely about his desperate need for her
right now. She gave him warmth and an arousal that made him even weaker at the
knees.