Pleasures of the Night(57)

Where to begin?

“Do you remember anything?” he asked carefully.

She winced. “Not really, no. It’s more of a feeling. Like you’re familiar.”

He blew out his breath. “Hang on.”

Then he fixed her a stiff rum and soda. Setting it down before her, he stepped back and rested his hip against the far counter. His arms crossed of their own volition, and he accepted that he was feeling edgy and defensive. There was no way to explain without sounding like he was a nut. So he just started talking, refusing to cushion things with evasions or half-truths. He knew the tale was unbelievable on its face. It didn’t need any embellishment to make it worse.



The whole time he watched her, trying to gauge her reaction, noting how she gulped her drink.

“More,” she gasped when he fell silent, setting the glass down with a sharp click on the granite countertop.

He refilled it with a sigh, and waited silently as she downed a third of it in one swallow. “Are you okay?”

Her dark eyes were huge in her face, her creamy skin pale, her hands shaking as she released her beverage and wiped her palms on her satin shorts. Tears welled, clinging to long, dark lashes before slipping free and coursing down her cheeks.

“Lyssa,” he murmured, his chest aching at the sight of her tears.

“I’m o-okay,” she whispered.

Lyssa winced as her voice broke. Then she cried as Aidan came to where she sat on the bar stool and cupped her nape, tilting her chin up so that he could brush his lips across hers with heartbreaking tenderness.

“You’re trembling.” He nuzzled her nose with his. “And your skin is cold.”

She knew that, knew she was in shock, but how was she supposed to react when the man of her dreams swore he came to life from her dreams? All the hopes she’d been harboring of this happiness lasting vanished like smoke, and something precious inside her died.

“Oh god!” she moaned, her stomach roiling as she was struck with a sudden, horrifying thought. “This Twilight…Is it like another planet?”

He exhaled audibly and tugged her ponytail free. His callused fingertips sank into her damp hair and massaged her scalp. She melted, her eyes falling closed. Her breathing was so shallow and the silence so complete that Jelly Bean’s purring rumbled like thunder through the room.

“No,” he murmured, “It’s a conduit plane of existence. Think of it like an apple. Abbreviated space is the hole bored through the center by a worm. Instead of coming out the other side, though, the Elders found a way to suspend us in there.”

How could she and JB both be so wrong about him? The man was completely insane. Those oversized clothes…Oh god, what if he was a vagrant?

“A wormhole?” she repeated. “Are we talking about the same type of wormhole as they have on television and the movies?”

“Yes, somewhat.”

“But before you went into the apple,” she said slowly, “you came from another planet, right?”

His lips pressed into her forehead. “Yes.”

“So you’re telling me you’re an alien.”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” She cried harder, her heart breaking so completely, she found it hard to breathe. Dropping her wet face into her hands, she gave in to her grief with deep, wracking sobs.

“Shush. I know this is a lot to throw at you. But please…you’re killing me. I can’t stand it.”

He enfolded her in his warm, strong arms. She breathed him in, filling her mind with his unique essence, only mildly surprised by how it soothed her. She doubted she’d ever be truly surprised again.

Turning her head, she spotted where her purse was on the counter and reached for it, withdrawing the pepper pen and clutching it in her hand. In case of alien, break glass. The thought of using it on Aidan, of inflicting any kind of pain on him, only tugged her deeper into despondency.

Then the doorbell rang.

She wiggled free of Aidan’s embrace, part of her mind wondering how to go about getting someone psychiatric treatment and another part thinking she didn’t care if he was insane. There were all kinds of insanity, and Aidan’s brand of hot sex and proprietary caring worked for her. She wasn’t exactly normal, either. Who was she to bitch about a little mental instability? She was a woman who never remembered dreams and had so much trouble sleeping that it affected her ability to lead a normal life. Hell, Aidan thought she was a prophecy set to destroy him and everything he knew. “The Key” that was expected to annihilate worlds, including her own. Or something like that.

“Lyssa, just ignore it.”

“No. No, I have to get that.” Think, Lyssa. Think.