Evangeline was about to ask more questions, but at that moment they rounded one last corner and emerged into the jungle that was the Night Garden.
“Good heavens,” she whispered. “This is an incredible place.”
The thick canopy of massive leaves and twisted branches shut out all traces of moonlight, but the garden glittered with iridescent energy. The glow was much brighter than the midnight light of the Day Garden. The atmosphere was warmer, as well. But she knew intuitively that it was the surging, crashing waves of paranormal power that made this section of the grounds so dangerous.
The energy tides ebbed and flowed around her in unpredictable currents. She sensed that some of the rivers of power could drag a person under, drawing the victim down into the paranormal depths that waited just beneath consciousness.
A pool of dreams waited there in the darkness, dreams of wondrous worlds and endless pleasures, dreams in which she would know power and passion beyond anything she had ever imagined.
“Evangeline.” Lucas gave her a quick shake. “Wake up.”
“But I am awake.” Startled, she blinked a couple of times and pushed her jangled senses higher. The subtle trancelike sensation faded. She caught a faint, delicate whiff of a compelling, exotic perfume. “Do you smell something?”
“The Dream Rose.” Lucas urged her through a cluster of radiant ferns. “One of my uncle’s last creations. He hoped to produce a variety that could be used to induce sleep. Like so many of the rest of his experiments, it went awry. Try not to breathe deeply until we are inside the bathhouse.”
“What can possibly be so terrible about a flower that smells so good?”
“From a distance it exerts an alluring effect on the senses. As you get closer, the effect becomes hypnotic, irresistible. Even one bloom releases enough perfume to put a person into a trance. But it is not a true sleep. One dreams, however, and the dreams are nightmares.”
“You sound as though you have experienced the effects of the blooms.”
“I did on one occasion. Believe me when I tell you that once was more than enough.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” She looked down and saw a cluster of spectacularly luminous blooms. “Look at those flowers. They are incredible.”
“Whatever you do, don’t touch them, especially not now, not at night.”
“They are dangerous, too?”
“Everything in this place is dangerous. I thought I’d made that clear. That particular plant is carnivorous. The young ones eat insects. The larger version attracts and kills mice and rats.”
“Good heavens.”
“Another botanical experiment that was supposed to have a practical application.” Lucas was sweating now. He scrubbed the perspiration from his eyes. “My uncle was convinced that a few pots of the plants placed inside a house would control vermin. His theory was correct. Has it escaped your attention that even though a large portion of the house has been closed for years, there are no mice or spiderwebs?”
She shuddered. “Now that you mention it, I was very relieved to discover that there were no signs of vermin in the kitchen and the pantry. I attributed it to the diligence of the missing housekeeper.”
“The vermin are drawn into this garden by the perfume. Very few escape.”
“I have met any number of housekeepers and wives who would pay dearly to acquire such plants. But surely you are not saying that the rat-eating plants would devour a living person?”
“No, but the flowers produce a toxic substance that is powerful enough to produce a chemical burn of sorts. The injury takes days to heal.” Lucas shook his head, as if to clear it. “Not much farther now. The entrance to the bath is just ahead. Once we are inside you will be safe while I sleep off this confounded fever.”
She tore her attention away from a beautiful array of darkly glittering orchids and saw the entrance to the ancient bathhouse. Her heart sank at the sudden realization that the interior seemed to be filled with a dense, endless night.
“Lucas, I know you mean to protect me from the dangers of the garden,” she said, “but I must tell you that I cannot endure the thought of spending the rest of the night in that place. Not without a lantern.” She looked down at the small lanternlike device in her hand. “I do not think this will do. I would rather take my chances out here where there is some light.”
“The unlit entrance is deceptive,” he said. “You will see what I mean once we are inside. In any event, I cannot allow you to stay out here. Brace yourself. Going through the gate can be disturbing. My uncle designed it to keep out the animals and insects that do manage to survive the garden. He also intended it to discourage any intruders who might get this far.”
“That pair we encountered tonight certainly seemed to know their way around these gardens,” Evangeline said.
“Yes,” Lucas said in a flat voice. “They did.”
Reluctantly she followed him through the dark opening. It was like walking through a small storm of energy, albeit a much less intense version of what was sweeping through the maze. The hair lifted on the back of her neck. Her senses reacted as if they had been struck by several tiny shocks of electricity.
She sucked in a quick breath. Lucas tightened his grip on her hand.
“One more step and we’re in,” he promised.
And then they were on the other side of the gate. Lucas stopped and released Evangeline’s wrist. She looked around in wonder.
The interior of the room in which they stood was gently lit by a crystal-clear pool of water. It took her a moment to realize that it was the energy in the water that illuminated the vaulted chamber. Unlike the wildly unsettling currents out in the gardens, however, this was a gentle, soothing energy. Wisps of steamy vapor rose from the surface of the ancient bath, filling the space with a pleasant, humid warmth.
“This is astonishing,” she said, enchanted. “Beautiful. And it feels very good in here. Please don’t tell me that the sensation is deceptive and that it conceals some form of dangerous energy.”
“The pool in this room and the one in the next chamber are safe. It is the third that is dangerous.”
She looked down a passageway into the next chamber and saw another glowing pool. “I do not see a third pool, just two.”
“The third bath is in a chamber off the second one. But Chester secured it with a locked door. Although he never expected an intruder to get this far, he took extra precautions with that pool.”
“What is so dangerous about the bath in the third chamber?”
“I will explain some other time.” He led the way down the passage into the second pool chamber. “Not tonight. The fever has exhausted me. I was barely able to make it through the gate a moment ago. I cannot put off sleep much longer.”
She was getting more worried by the second. “I understand.”
She followed him into the second chamber and examined him in the fluctuating currents of paranormal light. His hard face was drawn taut with the effort he was exerting to stay on his feet. Tight, grim lines etched the corners of his feverish eyes. She touched his arm, opened her senses and focused on his aura. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the raging heat in the darker wavelengths.
“This fever,” she said. “It appears to be of a paranormal nature.”
“I am well aware of that.” He yanked off his coat and tossed it down onto a stone bench. “So bloody hot. Feels like I’m on fire.”
“Perhaps you could cool off in one of the pools?”
“No.” He ripped at the buttons of his shirt with uncharacteristically clumsy fingers. “Too warm. I can’t take any more heat.”
He got his shirt open halfway down his chest and abandoned the task. He started unsteadily toward a small alcove.
She trailed after him. “Wait. Where are you going?”
He paused, one hand clenched around the edge of the alcove opening. His knuckles were white.
“I’m going to use the privy,” he said evenly. “As it h
appens, the Romans were excellent plumbers.”
She was mortified. “Oh, right.”
She turned away very quickly.
He emerged a short time later, scooped up his coat and sat down on the stone floor, his back against a wall. He looked at her with his hot eyes.
“You were able to follow those two men and me into the maze,” he said. “I assume that ability is an aspect of your talent?”
“Actually I followed you. If I need to find something badly enough and if I focus, I can usually locate it.”
“In other words you could find your way back out of the maze?”
“Yes, I think so, but why are you asking?”
“If I do not awaken from this fever, you will need to make your own way out.”
“For heaven’s sake, do not say such a thing.”
“If I do not awaken by dawn,” he continued with grim determination, “or if I do not seem to be myself when I do wake up, you will have to go back to the house alone. The Night Garden will be much safer in the morning, but be careful regardless. As soon as you get out of the maze, find Stone. Tell him what happened. He will keep you safe.”
“Lucas, are you trying to warn me that you don’t expect to recover from this fever?”
“Damned if I know.” He wiped his face with one hand. “I’ve been burned before but never like this.”
She went toward him slowly. “I’m not at all certain, but it’s possible that I might be able to help you.”
“There is nothing anyone can do,” he said quietly. “With luck I will sleep it off. Promise me that whatever happens, you will not leave this place until dawn.”
“I give you my word. But, please, let me try to lower the fever.”
He surprised her with a faint, wicked smile. “My dear Miss Ames, don’t you know that I have been burning since the moment I met you?”
“This is not a good sign,” she said. “Your fever is so high that it is causing you to hallucinate.”
“I have been enjoying this particular hallucination.” He stopped smiling. “But unfortunately, it appears to be fading. I seem to be slipping into some sort of night. I must rest.”
He crumpled his coat into a makeshift pillow and more or less collapsed onto his side. He looked up at her, squinting a little as if he was having trouble perceiving her.
“I am sorry, Evangeline,” he said. “I meant to protect you but I have placed you in danger. This is my fault and I shall die with that knowledge on my conscience.”
“Lucas, no.” She crouched beside him and gripped his hand. “I will not allow you to talk like that.”
His fingers tightened convulsively around hers. “I have complete confidence in you, Miss Ames. You are the most resourceful woman I have ever met. You will find your way out of here. And Stone will protect you from whoever is trying to kill you.”
Lucas closed his eyes. She sensed that he was plummeting downward into a deep sleep. He needed rest but she knew that she could not allow him to fall too far into the darkness. The heat was coming off of him in violent currents. His hand was hot in hers.
She had only a vague, intuitive notion of what had to be done. The one thing she was absolutely certain of was that she had to be so very careful. The physical connection between them would enhance the effects of whatever she tried to do to cool the fever. If she went too far she would kill Lucas as surely as the fire that blazed in his aura.
She opened her senses cautiously and started to focus her talent on the overheated currents. The shock of the flashing energy pulsing through Lucas was so intense it was all she could do to hang on to his hand. For a few seconds it suppressed the breath in her lungs. She feared it might actually stop her heart.
She fought back instinctively, dampening the flaming wavelengths with her own soothing, cooling energy. She worked cautiously, afraid of going too far. The searing memory of what she had done the last time she had used her talent in this fashion was still very vivid.
But Lucas was not Douglas Mason. His energy field was far more powerful. Perhaps it was his talent that made him psychically strong, she thought, or maybe it was the self-mastery he had developed to control the paranormal side of his nature. Whatever the explanation, her fear of accidentally freezing Lucas’s aura began to fade. It would take a great deal of power to extinguish the strong currents of energy that he radiated, she thought, perhaps even more than she could exert.
The realization that she was not going to hurt him filled her with an exhilarating sense of relief. She grew bolder, increasing the intensity and tightening the focus. The fever began to subside. Lucas grew cooler to the touch. The hand she gripped was no longer burning hot. Lucas was no longer sweating profusely.
The seconds ticked past into an eternity.
After a time she was satisfied that the energy of his aura once again felt normal and stable. Lucas slept but he no longer hovered on the abyss of what could have been a permanent state of unconsciousness or even death. He was exhausted but he was now getting the healing rest that he so desperately needed.
She sat on the stone floor, gripping his hand and monitoring his aura to make certain that the fever showed no signs of spiking again. After a while, satisfied that he was no longer in danger, she got to her feet.
She walked to the edge of the second pool and looked down into the luminous waters. The ancient stone floor of the bath, the steps and the submerged benches could be clearly seen. The subtle, invigorating energy stirred her senses.
She kicked off her damp slippers, hiked up the hem of her nightgown and wrapper and crouched at the edge of the pool. Tentatively she dipped her fingers into the water. A delightful sensation of well-being tingled through her.
She sat down on the stone rim, dangled her feet in the pleasantly warm water and thought about what had happened when she had calmed the fever in Lucas.
Ever since the day she had encountered Douglas Mason on the staircase, she had lived with the terrible knowledge that she could kill with a touch.
But thanks to Lucas, she now knew that she could also heal.
Seventeen
He came awake with the sure and certain knowledge that the unexpected had occurred. He was still alive.
Not only alive, Lucas thought, but he was feeling strong and vital once more. The fever was no longer inflaming his senses. By some incredible stroke of good fortune, he had survived the devastating burn.
Memory slammed back and with it his last fevered vision of Evangeline kneeling beside him, holding his hand. He remembered the gentle heat in her eyes.
It was Evangeline who had saved him, not fortune. He knew that as surely as he knew that he was again in full possession and control of his talent. He had no notion of how she had calmed the psychical burning inside him, but there could be no doubt that she was the reason he still had all of his senses—the reason that he was still among the living.
He opened his eyes and turned his head, searching for her. She was sitting on the edge of the pool, her arms braced behind her, feet gliding slowly back and forth in the water. The chintz wrapper and nightgown were crumpled up above her knees. Her hair cascaded down her back. She seemed lost in contemplation of the glowing bath, a nymph at her forest pond. He was half afraid to speak for fear of startling her out of some magical dream.
And quite suddenly he was not merely present among the living, he was fully, achingly, ravenously aroused.
He sat up slowly, letting the rustling of his clothing announce that he was awake.
She turned her head very quickly, smiling with relief and, he thought, another emotion as well. He raised his talent a little and could have sworn that he saw the heat of sexual desire in her eyes. A fantasy, he thought, brought on by his hunger for her.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Much better than I expected, given what happened back in the maze.” He thought about it. “I feel very good.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He got to his feet, tr
ying to come up with something intelligent to say. He became aware of the fact that his shirtfront was hanging open. Evangeline was gazing at his bare chest with great interest. He also noticed that she had made no effort to draw her feet out of the water or cover her knees with her clothing.
He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out his watch. The hands were frozen on midnight, about the time he had entered the maze. He closed the case.
“My watch has stopped,” he said. “The energy in these gardens is so strong that it often affects delicate mechanisms like clocks. I don’t suppose you have any idea of how long I was asleep?”
“Sorry, no. A couple of hours, perhaps.” She splashed her feet in the water and leaned back on her hands, smiling a mysterious smile. “I have noticed that the currents from the waters tend to lull one into a very relaxed state of mind. Time doesn’t seem to mean very much in here.”
“No.” He looked down the stone passage toward the entrance of the baths. The energy gate was still pitch-black. There was no sign of light on the far side. “It can’t be more than another few hours until dawn.”
“No.” She raised her eyes from his chest to his face and studied him as though he were some rare and intriguing curiosity.
His fingers did not seem to be working properly so he stopped trying to refasten his shirt.
“Evangeline, we must talk,” he said.
“Now?” she asked with a wistful expression.
“It will be dawn soon.”
She splashed her feet a little in the water. “Yes, you have already mentioned the time.” She raised one hand in a restless gesture and lifted her hair away from the back of her neck. “It is rather warm in here, isn’t it?”
He was riveted by the delicate, vulnerable curve of her neck. “The pools give off a great deal of heat,” he said. His voice sounded a little thick, even to his own ears.
“And energy,” she said, smiling as if at some secret joke.
“Yes.” He put the coat down on the stone floor and walked slowly toward the pool where she sat. “Energy, too.”