3

Chapter Two

Two Weeks Later

Carmella was wearing black. Ryder could only shake his head at this as he followed her in his astral form, staying between her and her pursuers, throwing the hounds off every chance he got and generally protecting the finely curved ass as it raced through the underbrush in the hills above New Cincinnati, Ohio.

She was dressed in the color of night from head to toe, form fitting, and snug. It was the color of mystery, of secrets. It was his color—and hers as well, it appeared. Her clothes hid nothing from his eager, astral gaze, though, and made his cock throb hard and demandingly in his physical body still sheltered in the inn back along the edges of town.

He kept up with her easily, drawing on Torren’s added powers, as his astral form traveled farther away from his physical body than he was entirely comfortable with.

He sent her pursuers up and around the mountain with the false form of a young woman fleeing. As they moved, Carmella was forced to change her direction, opting instead for a path that led down the mountain to the safety of the inn she had been staying at in town.

She had gotten careless in her search for her commander and lover, Torren Graves, whom she believed had been captured by PSI, the Psychic Sensory Investigations unit of the new government, the week before. Her ties to Torren were strong, but her focus was faltering severely. If it weren’t, she would have already been well aware of the fact that he wasn’t in the prison she was watching so hard. She would have caught on instantly to the plan they had set in motion more than a month before. And the damned group of vigilantes would have never managed to surprise her as they had.

The coordination it had taken to draw everything together that night would terrify the director of the PSI if she ever realized he had managed to do it. There were things he kept from everyone, the true scope of his abilities being one of them.

The world wasn’t ready to acknowledge that such powerful psychics were once again in the government.

He followed the woman, catching a glimpse of her expression as she glanced back at the lights that scoured the mountainside, a frown on her heart-shaped face as she realized the hounds had somehow lost her scent when they shouldn’t have and were moving up the mountain, rather than on her heels.

He stilled his grin. She knew it wasn’t logical. Carmella would never trust what wasn’t logical. He had a hell of a fight ahead of him because his attraction for her, the rioting hunger that rose inside him, would never make sense to her.

He watched as those long, exquisite legs jumped a low boulder, her body hovering in the air for a long second before she hit the ground running again. Amazing. She twisted around the hulking forms of shadowed trees, avoiding more than one trap set to catch the unwary. She couldn’t see them on the cloudless night, and he couldn’t sense a flow of psychic power, though he knew he should have.

The power it would have taken to send out the “feelers” to detect the upcoming obstacles should have been near impossible for him to shield. Instead, he had only to worry about hiding her physical form. He should have been hard pressed to keep her safe. The fact that he wasn’t had a twinge of excitement running through his veins. She was strong. Damned strong. It would make for a very interesting relationship.

You have obstacles moving along the street at the point she’ll enter. Torren relayed the information to him telepathically. Ryder could also feel his anticipation. He had been separated from Carmella for over a week now, giving Ryder time to accustom Carmella’s unconscious mind to his presence, thereby assuring the conscious part of her that he could be worth the risk of trusting. Not that he expected it to be easy, though. Ryder sent a burst of power to the fleeing woman’s left, giving the impression of a pursuer’s light flickering in the underbrush. She shifted to the right, though he saw her hesitate. She was getting more suspicious now. She sensed no one there, saw only the light, and he knew she was starting to suspect she was being led along the path.

Carmella burst into the rubble-choked alley, bracing her hands on the concrete dune that stood in her way and flipping over it like an ethereal shadow. Then she stopped, hidden on the other side as he felt the tendrils of her power reaching out to him.

Avoiding them wasn’t hard. She was trying to be cautious; to be certain there was no chance of touching the senses of the hounds still baying in the hills above her. But she also knew she was being watched.

Ryder shook his head and pulled back. He had her close enough to safety now and was fairly certain she would now find her own way to the Inn several blocks over. This had been his main objective, other than getting her ass away from the lynch mob that had detected her outside the prison grounds hours before.

I’m pulling back, he informed Torren. Cover my retreat.

The surge of power it took to return to his own body could be detected and tracked by another psychic, even one without astral power. He felt Torren providing the cover he needed as he forced himself to return from the astral plane and back to the physical.

Ryder opened his eyes the moment his psychic presence slammed back into the flesh and blood form. He drew in a deep breath as he fought the exhaustion that invariably came with such extreme use of his powers.

Ryder’s lips quirked. He had been watching her for a week now as she searched the city for Torren. She was struggling with her own senses, the knowledge that her commander wasn’t where she had been told he was. She was fighting herself so strongly that she refused to see the truth. Had refused to accept it even at the time Torren had offered it to her. The offer was rescinded now. Ryder would demand where Torren could not.

It wasn’t going to be easy, leading her through her own fears, breaking her control. The grip she had on her own heightening desires was even tighter than the control she used psychically. Even more importantly, it was drawing away from the control she needed to focus and contain those powers.

Torren had been aware all along of Carmella’s destiny. As a minor talent, his gift for seeing the potential of the future had been strong where Carmella and Ryder were concerned. He knew what had to be done, and he knew his part in it. The hard part would be convincing Carmella.

She’s on her way back in, Torren informed him as he continued to follow Carmella. She’s suspicious.

We didn’t expect it to be easy. Ryder closed his eyes as he fought to still the anticipation of what was coming.

She’s frightened, Ryder…

Bullshit, Ryder responded with an edge of amusement. She’s pissed and she’s getting careless. You aren’t where you’re supposed to be. She can’t just kick ass and be done with it.

If there was one thing he had learned from Carmella’s dreams, it was that the dominant, hard-edged side of her would cause complications in matters requiring a long degree of patience. She was quickly losing control rather than being able to wait and watch for the best opportunity to strike. It was going to get her killed.

Yeah. Torren’s amused admiration of those qualities filtered through the mind connection easily. That girl sure does look good kickin’ ass, though, Ryder. It’s a fine sight to see.

Ryder snorted. Perhaps he would have seen it by now if his old buddy had been a bit more forthcoming when they had separated as a team years ago. Ryder had always wondered why Torren had sent him to join the group preparing to rebuild the government and the country, rather than both of them heading there.

The other man was an amazing tactician. As a seer, which was one of Torren’s main psychic powers, he had the ability to glimpse what was coming and to know how to work toward it, or away from it. Rather than taking the job of working within that new government himself, though, he had sent Ryder.

PSI had been created to draw in those psychics with enough power to aid the rebuilding. It was also created to investigate and neutralize rebel psychics, and those intent on creating another demonic leadership such as Tyre’s had been.

Carmella was under investigation not just because of the strength of her powers, but because of her connection to Tyre. The bloodline, which ran thick and strong, took her back to the two most powerful psychics the world had ever known—Tyre and the Tyrea.

That left her two choices now. She could submit to testing. If it was learned she could bond and be controlled by a disarming psychic whose only powers were that of neutralizing hers, or an absorber, who could soak it in, then she would live in relative peace. Or she could accept the drug the government had created that would control and eventually destroy her power. Otherwise, her freedom and possibly her life were at stake.

We’ll save her. Torren’s mental voice was as strong as Ryder’s resolve.

You should have told me sooner. Ryder couldn’t keep the edge of anger from his thought at the future Torren had not told him was coming.

Would you have left? Would you have done the work you have done? Would you have put in place the ties to this new government that will ultimately save her? Torren’s questions were valid ones, and yet still that spark of jealousy remained.

Torren had found her, guided her, had been her lover for more than a year now while Ryder did the job he had been sent to do. During that time, his dreams had been in turmoil as his own lesser “seer” abilities had taunted him with her images while giving no clue to her whereabouts. Only after Torren had provided the necessary link had Ryder been able to slip into her unconscious mind and see the woman that had tormented him. A woman whose very life was now held in the balance of a government that was more than wary of any blood link back to the monster who had destroyed it once before.

The rewards will be worth it. Torren wasn’t the least compassionate in his feelings toward Ryder’s jealousy. Not that Ryder had expected him to be. I’ll watch her while you sleep. Better get some rest, because she won’t be as easy to conquer as you want to believe she will be.

Ryder didn’t doubt that in the least.