Protector(33)

“I hate it, too,” she said. Almost without thinking, she laid her right hand on his left, where it was resting on the glass top of the patio table. He jerked a little at her touch, then relaxed as she squeezed his fingers gently before returning her hand to her lap. “And we will do something about it. The situation isn’t going to stay this way.”

“I know,” he replied, and again those dark eyes latched onto hers, holding her gaze. She saw trust there, a belief in her abilities that she sincerely hoped wasn’t misplaced.

It couldn’t be. Way too much was riding on those inconsistent dreams and visions of hers. All she could do was hope that the years she’d spent pushing them away, denying them, hadn’t weakened them beyond repair.





7





After that, they didn’t talk much, but ate their rapidly cooling food and drank the rest of the bottle of wine. By the end of the meal, Caitlin was feeling — not exactly light-hearted, but probably more relaxed than she should be, given the circumstances. In fact, the false sensation of well-being that came over her was so pronounced that she almost asked Alex to open a second a bottle of wine.

No, that would be a very bad idea. For one thing, she sure didn’t need a hangover getting in the way of her next attempt to summon a vision, and for the other, it was hard enough forcing herself not to react when Alex looked at her, to pretend that the way her blood seemed to run a little hotter in her veins every time she caught a stray glance from him was perfectly normal and nothing she needed to worry about. She couldn’t let herself be attracted to him. That was going to be difficult, considering the way just being around him made her heart feel as if it was in a perpetual state of flutter, but she’d do her best. How could she focus if she allowed herself to be so distracted?

So they finished their dinner, and she helped him clear away the uneaten food and the dirty dishes, and after that it wasn’t quite late enough to go to bed, since it was barely a quarter to nine. Sitting down and attempting to watch TV as if everything was normal and her friends hadn’t been kidnapped by a trio of dark warlocks was completely out of the question.

“Maybe I should try again,” she suggested, as Alex closed up the dishwasher and turned to face her.

“Try for a vision?”

She nodded.

“I thought you couldn’t force the visions.”

“I can’t…I mean, I haven’t been able to in the past. But Maya — your grandmother said I just had to open myself to it, to let it flow through me.”

“Like the Force?” Alex asked, an incongruous grin pulling at his mouth.

Caitlin tried hard not to look at that mouth. His lips were just full enough that she thought they would feel very good when pressed up against hers. Okay, and that was exactly the sort of thinking she was trying to avoid, so she pulled in a breath and said severely, “Maybe like the Force, you geek. I don’t know. But I think I should try.” Before he could cut in with another Star Wars reference, she added, “And don’t hand me that line about ‘do, or do not,’ or I’ll have to resort to physical violence.”

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hands. The grin he shot her, however, told her he wasn’t too worried about her ability to beat his ass.

Which, she had to admit, was severely lacking. She’d never roughhoused that much with her brother, so the finer points of getting in a good punch were not exactly in her wheelhouse, so to speak. Deciding it was better to let the subject drop, she announced, “I’m going to sit down now,” and went over to the couch in the living room. It was soft bone-colored leather, and seemed to envelop her as she sank down onto it.

Alex followed, still wearing an amused expression. She was actually glad to see it, as that half-smile seemed to tell her he’d put his worries about his grandmother aside for now at least. A matching love seat was positioned a few feet away from the couch, and he lowered himself onto it, pushing an accent pillow made out of what looked like a miniature Navajo rug over to one side.

“So…how does this work?” he asked.

Good question. Maya had said Caitlin had to open herself to her gift, but the exact mechanism for doing so seemed to elude her. “Well, for one thing, it would probably help if you weren’t sitting there and staring at me as if you expected me to turn into a toad or something.”

“God forbid. I kind of prefer you the way you are.”

Embarrassed blood rose to her cheeks. This seemed like a really good time to close her eyes and try opening herself up to her gifts. At least that way she wouldn’t have to figure out the best approach when it came to dealing with Alex’s intent gaze.