Sputtering and gasping, she was hauled out of the water and thrust roughly aside. Lyssa wiped the water from her eyes and saw the melee their arrival had instigated. Her Elite guards fought with swords against a legion of gray-robed figures who also wielded deadly blades. The space was small and cramped, dominated by a circular computer console and a clear screen of rapidly flickering images. Depending on her angle, she could see right through to the room beyond, a space filled with wide beams of light like the one she had jumped out of earlier. Slipstreams.
The sight of the hallway on the other side of the cavern galvanized her into action. She leaped out of the way of an Elder who was retreating from an Elite sword. Dodging falling bodies and wicked blades, Lyssa crossed the space and made her escape, desperate to find Aidan.
Entering a hallway carved out of the rock, she took off at a run, pausing at each doorless archway to look inside. She heard footsteps behind her and turned, relieved to see that it was Philip sprinting after her. Before her was a seemingly endless row of doorways. Her feet squelched inside her wet shoes, and the loose pants, so light when they were dry, were now a heavy weight against her legs. She wished they were dry, but seemed unable to effect the change.
“Keep going,” Philip urged, taking over the task of looking in the rooms on the left. He, too, was still soaked.
The next threshold she paused at revealed a man in a cylindrical glass chamber. She gasped, hope rising, then she realized the dark-haired man inside wasn’t big enough to be Aidan. Moving on, she found more men in more glass tubes. They all looked to be asleep. Or dead. “What is this place?”
“Hell.” Philip’s hand fisted with white-knuckled force around the hilt of his weapon.
They kept going.
Finally she found him, his black garments a stark contrast to the white outfits the other poor blokes were wearing. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her stomach churning dangerously. His head hung low, his chin to his chest, his body held upright by no discernible device. Lyssa ran to the chamber and banged on it, trying to find a door or some way to open it. “Aidan! Aidan, answer me!”
The thought that he might be dead made her so ill, the room spun around her.
“Watch out!” Philip grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the way.
A flash of movement in her peripheral vision was her only clue to Philip’s distress until a blade whizzed past her, almost severing her arm.
“Christ!” She feinted to the left as the Elder lunged toward her again.
“Kill her, Lieutenant,” the Elder ordered, just before he stumbled back from Philip’s parrying sword with such force that his hood fell to his shoulders. “What are you doing?” he cried.
Philip thrust her behind him and fought back. “How do I get the captain out of there?”
“He is sequestered for the benefit of all.”
Lyssa gaped, horrified by the sight of the man inside the robe. He looked like a corpse, his skin papery thin and wrinkled, his hair a shocking white. He glared at her with pale eyes, and she knew, without a doubt, that he wanted nothing more than to murder her.
“I’ll ask you again, Elder,” Philip said, nearly catching his opponent with a swipe to the abdomen. “How can we free Captain Cross?”
“I’ll never tell you!” the Elder promised viciously.
Lyssa watched in stunned amazement as the two men, so different in appearance—one youthfully virile, the other risen from the grave—clashed in a show of skill that she couldn’t help but admire. She retreated step by step as the battle continued, finally coming to a halt with her hips pressed up against the edge of a counter. Risking a glance at what she was up against, Lyssa saw a computer console similar to the one she had seen in the cavern, but a great deal smaller. The writing on the touch panel was foreign, but the rounded slot for a key was unmistakable.
Okay. Taking a deep breath, she ignored the shivers that wracked her body and tried to imagine what type of key she should be looking for. Then she felt it.
Looking down, she was startled to find a rounded key hung from a chain in the center of her palm.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, awed at her power in Aidan’s world. No need to hunt things down, apparently. A quick check with the lock proved that she had the right key. Now she just had to help Philip get rid of the Elder.
“Got it!” She grinned as she imagined a pitcher with a handle, and it appeared in her hand. Fat at the bottom with a narrowed lip for pouring, it looked exactly like the Kool-Aid mascot. She waited until the perfect moment, then leaped into action, bashing the Elder on the head when he came close enough.
The glass shattered; he made a gurgling noise and then collapsed at her feet, his sword clattering to the ground. Left with a pitcherless handle, Lyssa tossed it aside and dusted off her hands on her wet pants legs.
“Whoa,” Philip said, his swinging arm stilling in midair.
“Here.” She tossed Philip the key, and he caught it in his free hand. “Get Aidan out of that tube.”
He moved over to the console. “I’m on it.”
Philip powered up the touch pad. A moment later, a loud hiss of air signaled the opening of the chamber, and Lyssa hurried to it just in time to catch a stumbling Aidan.
“Baby,” she murmured, her legs spread wide in an effort to bear his weight.
He clutched her tightly to him, straightening, his cheek nuzzling against hers. “You’re wet,” he noted in a slurred whisper. “And not for the reason I’d like.”
“Sex fiend,” she retorted, her throat tight with relief. Part of her had been terrified to see him so helpless, this man who was larger than life. Even when he was asleep, there was a taut alertness about him that never let anyone forget how dangerous he was. He had lacked that in the tube. “Are you okay?”
His large hands cupped either side of her spine, pulling her hard to his body until there was no space between them. He held her like that for a long moment, then she felt his head lift and his frame stiffen as he processed their surroundings.
“No, I’m not okay. I’m pissed and freaked out. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Saving you.”
“Fuck.”
“Can you stop thinking about sex?”
Aidan’s reluctant chuckle rumbled against her chest. “Hot Stuff, you drive me crazy.”
Her hands slid up his back and into the thick, silky hair at the nape of his neck. She snuggled into him, and then rose to her tiptoes so she could press loving kisses along his jaw line on the way to his throat. As her tongue licked across his pulse, he groaned and trembled. “Lyssa,” he breathed, cutting off her air with the strength of his embrace.
“I was so worried.”
“I’m terrified. This is the last place I want you to be.”
She rubbed up against him, and he hugged her tighter, his hands wandering possessively over her back and hips.
“Captain.”
Lifting his head, Aidan gave a nod to the bowing lieutenant. “Thank you.”
“Well,” Philip began dryly, “our motives aren’t entirely altruistic. We’re going to need some leadership in exile.”
“Who’s with you?”
Philip rattled off a list of names.
“I take it this is solely a rescue mission?” Aidan set her away from him, his focus now fully on the situation.
“For the moment. I spent some time in the Temple today.”
“In the control room?”
Nodding, Philip said, “I think most of what we need is in there. The Elders have hidden so much from us. Did you know it’s possible to move about in her world through a Dreamer?”
“Yes. I knew that.”
“And it’s possible to traverse planes freely. Did you know that, too?”
“Yes.”
“So you can come back!” Lyssa cried, the flood of hope she felt making her dizzy.
Aidan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s safe to be with you, and until I can be certain that it is…
” He inhaled sharply and looked away.
Lyssa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing, fighting, and venting her frustration with the unfairness of it all. She and Aidan had never done anything in their lives to deserve this. All this time they’d been waiting for each other, and now they would be parted for reasons having nothing to do with their own actions.
For a long moment, Aidan stood unmoving, his stillness fraught with an underlying tension, as if he was steeling himself for some onerous task ahead. Goose bumps swept across Lyssa’s skin even though she wasn’t cold.
“Why are you dawdling, Cross?” Connor boomed, jogging into the room. His gaze moved to the glass tube and then back to Aidan. “You’re not fuzzy anymore. And you’re out of your slipstream. I thought only she could do that.”
“Only she can. I’m not dreaming. I’m here.”
“What?”
“The Elders retrieved me,” Aidan explained grimly. “All of me.”
“Bullshit.” Connor snorted. “If they could create closable fissures, we would have moved into the mortal realm long ago and left the Nightmares here.”
“There’s a hell of a lot we don’t know. Like these tubes. They’re filled with Elders-in-training.”
“What?” Philip turned away from the console. “No way.”
Lyssa frowned, remembering the men she had seen in the other rooms. They didn’t look anything like the Elders in the gray robes.
“I want Lyssa out of here,” Aidan said roughly. “Take her back.”
“No!” She reached for his arm, which tensed to rock-hardness beneath her fingertips.
He looked down at her with icy blue eyes. “To my knowledge, your life is in danger outside of your slipstream. You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me.”
“But you can risk yourself for me?”
Aidan said nothing, his gorgeous face set in tight, hard lines and his beautiful eyes—the ones that had looked at her with such love a moment ago—were now emotionless. Ancient. “I need you alive, Lyssa. More than I need you with me.”
Connor handed his sword to Aidan, then grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet.
As they moved toward the doorway, Lyssa called out in confusion.
“Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He looked away, his jaw tight and nostrils flaring. “Give me something to work with, Wager.”
Connor stepped out of the room. “Don’t take it personally,” he murmured, his lips to her ear. “He has to shut off his emotions or he’ll never be able to think of the next move.”
Using that impossibly long-legged stride of his, Connor quickly ate up the distance to the cavern. There she saw the Elders restrained in the corner, some injured, others tossing out dire warnings of retribution. Aidan’s men appeared unnerved by the situation, but they kept the tips of their swords aimed at the huddle and didn’t waver.
At the console, one man worked with rapid keystrokes. He looked up as Connor stepped into the space. “Captain, can you take a look at this?”
Connor nodded, and set her down. “Don’t move,” he warned.
He took over at the touchpad, and she was suddenly forgotten by Aidan’s men while still getting the death stare from the creepy Elders. The air was humid due to the large body of water just beyond the rock edge, but she was cold, chilled from the inside.
The two men at the console worked industriously for long moments, and in the interim Lyssa’s attention turned inward, focusing on the need to keep herself together until she was alone. She fought the nearly overwhelming desire to run back down the hall to Aidan. Knowing he was so close was torture. She wanted him with a soul-deep longing she doubted would ever be appeased, but she understood his motives. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to him, either, which was why leaving him was killing her. He was going through all this alone, and she wanted desperately to be of help to him.
She was so lost in thought, she didn’t immediately notice how unnaturally quiet the room had become. It was only when she felt heat at her back and inhaled the sexy, luscious scent that belonged to Aidan alone that she became aware of the change.
Lyssa stiffened.
“You’re still here,” he murmured. He stood unmoving behind her, nearly touching, enough that she felt him breathing, slow and deep. She could sense the struggle within him, the fight to keep his distance. Her eyes squeezed closed and her hands fisted.
She understood why they had to part this way—cold turkey. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings out. The affection he had shown when he first exited the tube was a liability now. Once a dam was broken, the flood wouldn’t stop until there was no water left. She was also holding back, knowing that when she grieved over his loss, the initial despair would last for days.
But she couldn’t leave without telling him, at least once…“I love you.”
The shudder that moved through him rippled across the space between them. His hands circled her wrists, but he maintained that provocative distance. His thumbs stroked over her pulse. “Cute outfit,” he whispered back.
A tear formed and then fell, quickly followed by another. Lyssa was grateful that he couldn’t see how his reply affected her. Friendly, no intimacy. She opened her eyes, refusing to let her torment be witnessed by the Elders.
“Remember your promise,” he said softly. “Don’t take the pendant off. Ever.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
Connor approached, his demeanor subdued. She wondered what he saw when he looked at them, especially when he glanced away with a wince. Aidan released her and moved to the console.
She swallowed hard and turned her back to him. “Let’s go.”
Every step away from Aidan crushed her further, until she was gasping in agony. Connor stepped into the water on the shallow ledge and held his arms out to her. Catching his outstretched fingers with hers…
…she stifled a scream as she was grabbed from behind in a crushing, but instantly familiar embrace. One steely arm lashed around her waist, another pinned her between her breasts.
“I love you,” Aidan said hoarsely, his lips to her ear, his body wrapped around hers with a tangible desperation. “Tell me you know that.”
Her hands came up to clutch at his forearms. “I know.”
Lyssa almost told him to dream of her. Instead she held her tongue and felt her heart break.
Waking with a start, Lyssa jackknifed upward, her heart racing so swiftly, she felt it against her ribs. Sweat coated her skin, and her chest heaved with panting breaths.
The space beside her in the bed was empty, the pillow still retaining the shape of the man who had rested there so recently.
“Aidan.” Tears welled and fell in a constant stream.
Lifting the pillow to her face, Lyssa breathed in the lingering scent of his skin, and cried.
Chapter 17
Stance wide and hands clenched at his lower back, Aidan faced the Elder-in-training in the tube before him, but it was Lyssa’s face he saw—wide, dark eyes filled with pain and confusion. He pulled a deep breath into his lungs and clung to his sanity by a thread. Endless days stretched out before him, an eternity without Lyssa.
“Cross, damn it!”
He turned his head, his gaze meeting Connor’s scowl.
“Fuck, man,” Connor muttered. “I’ve been standing here calling your name for the last few minutes.”
Aidan shrugged, uncaring. “What do you want?”
Connor sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. “I want you to be happy. In lieu of that, I’d like you to at least not be miserable.”
“Did you do as I asked?”
Stepping deeper into the room, Connor nodded. “Aside from Lyssa, no one on Earth knows you ever existed.”
“Lyssa’s still fighting it?” he asked quietly.
“I’m sorry.” Connor shrugged lamely. “She’s too strong.”
Aidan looked away, his throat tight. It killed him to think of Lyssa bei
ng in the same agony he was. He was barely managing to breathe, and she was far more sensitive. It was that empathy that first drew him to her. “Keep working on it.”
“Wager’s doing his best.”
Connor was silent for a long time, then he asked, “Would you forget her, if you could?”
“No.” Aidan smiled ruefully. “Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”
“I don’t know about that, man,” Connor said gruffly. “I’m kinda liking this side of the fence. To be honest, it looks a lot greener than your side.”
Connor left, his footsteps nearly silent on the stone floor. Unasked questions remained heavy in the air long after he departed, and Aidan was grateful that his friend hadn’t pressed him to answer them. He couldn’t talk about Lyssa now or what he had done while he was with her. It was too painful.
Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to focus his mind on the tasks yet to be accomplished rather than the piercing ache in his chest. He had no idea how much time passed. It didn’t matter.
“Cross.”
Moving on instinct, Aidan caught up the glaive resting against the tube before him and spun in a lightning-quick but tightly controlled arc. Sheron barely leaped back in time to avoid being cut in half.
The Elder held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I am unarmed, Captain.”
Aidan’s gaze narrowed. “How did you get in here? You weren’t with the others.”
“You disappoint me. I thought I taught you better than that.”
“You taught me enough to hurt you. At the moment, that’s all I need to know.”
“Really?” Sheron looked around the room. “Then I take it you don’t care to hear about how you can return to your Dreamer and be more productive in her world than you can be here?”
Catching a glimpse of a smile in the shadows of the cowl, Aidan lunged forward, pinning his former master to the rough stone wall. His forearm pressed hard against Sheron’s windpipe. “When I move my arm, I suggest you start talking.”
Sheron managed a slight nod, and Aidan eased up slightly.
Gasping, the Elder said, “There are Earth legends about dreams.”