Visions of Heat (9 page)

He made his smile a slow tease. “So, you back?”

She nodded, continuing to stare at him as if he were some large wild animal who might see her as dessert. She wasn’t far wrong. The cat definitely liked the smell of this Psy and the man found her disturbingly fascinating.

“I’ve never scared anyone by threatening to kiss them before,” he commented, checking her face for any lingering signs of whatever it was that had frightened her badly enough that he’d become safe.

“I don’t feel fear.”

He tugged at her tank top. “Lost control of your physiological responses again, huh?”

She pulled the damp fabric from his grasp. “Even Psy can’t control sweat in sleep.”

“You going to be okay?”

Faith didn’t want him to go, an illogical reaction. Vaughn couldn’t stop the visions if they were determined to come, but some irrational part of her was convinced that if he left, the darkness would return and this time, nothing would make it let go. “Of course.”

“You don’t look it.” He scowled and reached to push her hair off her face. “Do you want to shower?”

His touch made every nerve ending ignite but she held strong. She could handle this. It was what had brought her back from the vision and she’d learn to deal with anything that helped keep the darkness at bay. “Yes. Will I wake Sascha and Lucas?”

“They’re not here.”

“We’re alone?” She suddenly felt vulnerable in a way that was so viscerally female, it was an utterly new sensation.

“You didn’t think I’d let our alpha and his mate remain in a spot that a cardinal Psy knew about?” He snorted. “We might’ve blindfolded you, but Psy have other ways of knowing.”

“You thought I’d lead others here.”

“It was a possibility.”

She didn’t know what to say, hadn’t expected Sascha to abandon her like this. Though of course, once she thought about it, her supposition had no basis in fact.

“She didn’t want to go,” Vaughn said, and almost startled her into an overt physical response. “But we weren’t going to let her heart put her in danger.”

“Her heart?”

“She’s an E-Psy.”

Faith flicked through a mental file. “There’s no such thing as an E designation.”

“Have your shower and I’ll tell you something else your Council’s been hiding from you. It’s almost five—you want coffee?”

“Okay.” Faith was aware there were peculiar gaps in her knowledge and the taste of coffee was one of them. She knew of it, of course. No one who read as much as she did could miss knowing about it, but she’d never actually drunk it.

Vaughn got up from the bed and her eyes followed the shift of lean muscle and male strength. He was built perfectly in proportion, beautifully constructed. His musculature was well defined and his skin shimmered with a healthy glow that her mind found . . .
interesting
, she thought desperately, when that same mind tried to insert another word.

“Do I pass inspection?”

Her eyes met ones that glowed slightly in the dark and she saw something in them that she now recognized as laughter. Her answer came from a part of her she hadn’t known existed. “You appear healthy, but I’d have to dissect you to make an accurate judgment.”

To her surprise, his lips curved. “So you can play after all.”

She wanted to argue, but he was already walking out. “Wait!” It came out without thought.

He turned. “What’s the matter?”

Now that he’d stopped, she couldn’t say it. What if he left and the darkness found her again? “The shower—where can I get a towel?”

“Hold on.” He stepped out.

By the time he returned, she’d started to breathe faster. He paused the second he got inside the doorway. “I smell fear, Red.”

She got off the bed and went to grab the towel. What she couldn’t even allow herself to think was that she was going to him because he made her feel safe. “You’re imagining things.” She tugged at the towel.

He held on to it. “I’m a cat. I don’t make mistakes like that. Come on.”

Knowing she should argue, but not having the will to do so, she followed as he led her from the bedroom. When he didn’t switch on a single light, she realized it was because he could see perfectly well in the dark. Since she couldn’t, she reached out with her mind and flicked on the kitchen light as they headed into that room.

He froze. “Telekinesis?”

“A touch.” In reality her Tk strength was close to negligible, but she didn’t think it smart to admit that.

“Any other ‘touches’ I should know about?” He gave her a piercing look.

She shrugged. “What are you doing?”

“Starting the coffee before I babysit you.” He opened a canister sitting on the counter that ran along the back wall.

It felt like he’d slapped her. “Give me the towel. I don’t need babysitting.”

Ignoring her, he finished setting up the coffeemaker. “I was teasing, Red. Don’t get your fur ruffled.” He pointed down the hallway. “Go use that shower and I’ll sit outside and wait for you.”

She took the towel he held out. “I’m fine.” She didn’t know what had driven her to tell that complete untruth. She never lied—she had no reason to. “And I don’t have fur.” But for some bizarre reason, she found herself imagining what it would be like to stroke that black and gold fur she’d glimpsed when he’d first stalked her.

“Ask nice and I might let you.”

He’d read her mind for the second time. “You’re telepathic?”

He nudged her toward the shower. “No, you just can’t lie worth a damn. Everything’s in your eyes. Plus I know when a woman’s thinking about stroking me.”

“I wasn’t thinking about stroking you.” She preceded him down the hallway. “I was imagining your fur.”

Heat at her back and a rough whisper against her ear. “You let me stroke you and I’ll let you stroke me—I have a thing about your skin.”

Faith had no idea how to deal with him. So she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. “I won’t be long.”

His eyes lingered over her and she became aware that the tank top was plastered to her skin, outlining everything about her, from her full breasts to the curve of her hip. “Take your time.”

Faith wondered why she felt like she’d been marked. He hadn’t touched her and yet . . . he had.

 

Vaughn heard
the shower come on as he leaned against the wall next to the bathroom. He’d said he’d stay there while she showered and he would. And it wasn’t only because he’d smelled the acrid tang of bone-chilling fear. Something far more disquieting had been present in that nightmare-soaked room—a third entity that the cat had recognized as nothing natural, nothing good.

He hadn’t been able to define the lingering miasma as either human, changeling, or Psy, but it had clung to Faith like a second skin, disappearing only in the light of the kitchen. It might be gone now, but Vaughn was far from convinced that he’d seen the last of it. Faith could very well be a psychic carrier of some kind, providing a conduit for the infiltration of DarkRiver.

However, his instincts said otherwise. There had been something malignant about that darkness, something violent and ugly. And while he wasn’t sure about his redheaded Psy, his beast scented none of that ugliness in her. Faith smelled warm and female, tempting and inviting.

Whatever it was that was happening, he had the gut feeling that Faith herself was unaware of it. It was even possible that someone else was entering her consciousness through her connection to the hive mind of the PsyNet.

The shower shut off. That was when he realized he’d given Faith nothing with which to replace her sweat-soaked pajamas. He waited for her to figure out the same. She cracked open the door a minute later. “I need new clothing.”

He turned and propped himself up with an arm against the wall. “I don’t know. I think you’d look good without them.”

Night-sky eyes stared at him without blinking. “You’re not playing nice.”

“You catch on quick, Red.” From the gap in the door he could see her holding the towel closed over breasts that appeared surprisingly generous given her small frame. The beast prowled closer to the surface of his mind.

“My name is Faith.”

“Hmm.” He moved enough to slide a strand of wet silk through his fingers. Right now, her hair was a dark red that reminded him of heart’s blood. “Do you have extra clothes in your bag?”

“A shirt and the pants I was wearing earlier.” She didn’t protest his touch and he wondered if she even realized how far she’d come in mere hours. Something in Faith craved sensation and it was driving her to buck her conditioning under Silence. He was pleased. And it was because he liked touching her. The cat saw no reason to lie about that.

“I’ll get you a T-shirt—you can get into your day clothes later in case you decide to go back to sleep.” There was spare women’s clothing in the cupboards, but he wanted her covered in his scent. And he was animal enough not to care why he wanted that. He just did. “Wait here.”

This time, she didn’t ask him to stop, but he felt her eyes on him all the way down the hall. She hadn’t moved so much as an inch by the time he came back. Whatever it was that she’d seen, it had spooked the hell out of her, spooked her enough to break down her normal shield of cool reserve.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” She closed the door, leaving him to imagine all sorts of things. He was getting to the part about replacing his T-shirt with him when she walked out.

“I left the towel on the drying rod.” She tucked her hair behind her ears.

He saw that his old black T-shirt hit her a bare few inches above the knee, covering way more than he’d expected. “You’re short.”

“Did you only notice now?”

“What are you, five two?”

“One hundred and fifty-five centimeters to be exact.”

That made her a lot shorter than him. Which would make things very interesting in bed. He pushed off the wall, not surprised at the direction of his thoughts, but disturbed by the strength of them. Cats liked sensuous play and Faith was a very enticing female, small but formed just right. And that skin—it made him want to lick her up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Faith took a step back and tilted up her head.

No emotion in either her tone or her expression. No scent of desire. But the cat knew full well she found him intriguing.

“Yes, it’ll make things very interesting.” He could easily lift her up against a wall and pound into her. Hard. But maybe he’d save that for later—his Psy would probably appreciate a bit less enthusiasm the first few times.

“Vaughn, your eyes are going more jaguar than usual.”

He shook his head in a sharp movement and strode down the hallway. “I think the coffee’s ready.” What the hell was this Psy doing to him? He was known in DarkRiver for being aloof to the point of icy remoteness. Most of the newly mature females gave him a wide berth while they flaunted themselves to every other male, because they knew he wasn’t led by his balls. At least not until now.

Faith caught up to him. “Do you have any nutrition I could have?”

“Nutrition?” He scowled. “Do you mean food?”

“I have some nutrition bars in my bag if you don’t.”

“You’re worse than Sascha was.” He put his hand on her lower back and urged her toward the kitchen.

She jumped away like a scalded cat. “I told you not to touch me.”

He growled very low in his throat. “Minutes ago you were begging me not to let go. Make up your mind, Red.” He was aware his voice sounded a touch more jaguar than Faith could probably handle.

“I wasn’t completely in control when I woke.” She stared at him with wary caution but didn’t back away. Then she surprised him even more and took a step closer. “And you know that.”

The cat growled again, but it was pleased. This woman might look fragile but she had a spine of pure steel. “Are you sure I’m that logical?”

“No. But you’re not an animal either.”

He leaned in close until he had her boxed against the wall, his arms on either side of her body. One simple lift and he could have her at his sexual mercy. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby.” He brushed his lips over her ear. “I’m as animal as they come.” Before she could say anything, he pushed off and walked into the kitchen.

He heard the ragged gasp of her breath a few seconds later. “Are you really?”

He looked over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

She walked closer.
“Your eyes aren’t quite . . . human.”

Most people never figured that out, believing they were simply an unusual color. “My beast is stronger than most.” And had been ever since that week when he’d survived by turning jaguar and staying that way. Because even a baby jaguar had a better chance of survival in the forest than a ten-year-old human boy. But being in cat form for that length of time at such a young age had permanently changed him.

As if reassured by his calmer tone, she took another step forward. “What does that mean?”

He poured some coffee into a cup. “Milk? Sugar?”

“I don’t know.”

“Here, taste.” Lifting the black coffee to her lips, he watched her take a sip.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent as she
tasted
. He’d never seen any woman do that with the intensity of Faith, never been so aware of the inherent sensuality in the act.

“Good?”

“Put sugar in it,” she ordered, eyes remaining closed.

Vaughn didn’t follow orders well, but this was different. This, to him, was a kind of play, though Faith probably didn’t think of it that way. Too bad. She was playing with a very interested cat and when that cat got interested in things, it didn’t like to be denied. “Here.” He let her taste the sweetened coffee.

Once again, she breathed deep and savored the taste. “Milk.”

“All ready.”

A minute later, she opened her eyes. “The flavors are . . . unusual.” She seemed to be searching for words.