Sherrie turned her attention to her opponent, testing the thin thread of consciousness that had led her to him. He was like a monster tied to the other end of the string. If she pulled too hard, he might come roaring down on her. But she wanted to find out as much as she could about him without letting him become aware of her presence.
Anger was the first element she registered. Misery, hatred, self-loathing and rage shimmered along the thread that connected them like two kids on either end of a tin can phone. This was one unhappy creature, however powerful he might be, and Sherrie began to get a picture of why he was sucking up energy like a vacuum cleaner. Revenge. He wanted to become insanely powerful and hurt those he felt had done him wrong.
She wasn't sure how she knew this, but Sherrie knew in her gut she'd discovered the elemental truth about The Bad Man. There would be no reasoning with him. His goal was simple. He wanted to inflict as much damage as possible and prove himself a superior being over everyone who'd ever demeaned him.
Sherrie moved closer, wanting to catch a glimpse of the man, not just feel his essence. That slight movement drew his attention to her. He emerged from the shadows of the cave and stood staring at her with eyes that burned like fire. She inhaled a sharp breath and stepped back then stood frozen, staring into his fiery gaze.
"You're here." As in her interlude with Perron, the words bloomed in her mind. "At last."
"You were expecting me? Who are you?" She searched his face for something familiar, but found nothing. His appearance was so average-a man of medium height and build, receding brown hair revealing a lined forehead, a plain nose and mouth and no unusual characteristics that would draw anyone's attention. He was so normal that a person could look at him and through him and forget him in the next instant. Only his burning eyes betrayed his anger and his power.
"Should I know you?" she asked.
"You've never seen me before, but you know me, inside, like I know you, don't you?" His cryptic answer was coupled with a smile that revealed crooked teeth.
"What are you? Are you a shifter?"
His laughter was mirthless and rang unpleasantly inside her head. "No. Not a shifter. Not any more than you are."
Sherrie struggled to understand what she was missing. She opened her mind further, reached toward him, invited him inside. "Explain."
"Do you really want to know?" He was suddenly right in front of her. His body smelled like wet wool, and she could feel the warmth as if he were physically present. "It's time you knew the truth about yourself.
About everything."
"What truth? Who are you?" she repeated, so eager to learn his secret-and apparently hers-that she nearly forgot the danger. "Tell me."
He touched her cheek with his hand then curved it around the back of her neck, never breaking eye contact. Even as she leaned toward him, listening, it struck her that she was under a spell, mesmerized by his eyes and drawn in by his suggestion of earth-shaking secrets. The Garden of Eden, she thought. The serpent and the fruit of knowledge. Christ, Sherrie, wake up!
She shook her head, breaking the spell, and pulled away. His hand was smoke. There was no insistent pressure on the back of her neck because he wasn't real. This place wasn't real. It was all a dream. The moment she perceived it that way, Sherrie was swept through time and space as though she was a yo-yo and someone had yanked her string.
She slammed back into her body with a force that rocked her off her heels, and she sucked in a deep breath that seared her lungs. Her eyes flew open as she cried out.
"Are you all right?" John was there beside her, holding her again.
Grant, on her other side, anchored her to earth and completed the connection, feeding her revitalizing energy. "What happened?"
"I saw him. I talked to him. Damn, it was like he was right in front of me, but it was more than seeing his face. I got a sense of what makes him tick."
"And what is that?" Perron asked, while John helped her to sit and offered her juice.
Sherrie took a long swallow. She felt oddly guilty telling the intimate feelings of the stranger even if he was hurting the shifters. His soul had been so raw and exposed-hurt and loneliness entwined with rage and vindictiveness.
"It's about payback," she finally said. "I don't know what shifters have done to this guy, or what he thinks they've done, but he's mad as hell and he's not going to take it anymore. That's the gist of it." She hesitated before telling the rest. "When he saw me, it was like he knew me and was expecting me. He was about to tell me some big secret when I pulled away and came back here." She put her hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat and reassured by the solidity of her breastbone beneath her palm. Traveling in the astral realm was a little disconcerting, and she was glad to be grounded with John crouched by her side, one hand resting on her knee and his worried eyes studying her.
"I don't like putting you in danger like this." He glanced at Perron. "We should go on alone, leave her here."
"Unguarded. Good thinking. Especially since he can reach her whether we're with her or not." Grant tapped his temple. "Inside. Not a lot you can do to protect her from that, McGruff." Sherrie stood, a little unsteady on her legs, but energized and ready to go. "I can lead you to him. It's as clear as if I had a map." She could almost see a neon line laid out in front of her. "By the time we find him, maybe we'll know what to do."
John nodded, but didn't look happy as he shouldered the backpack.
Sherrie led the way from the clearing up the steep, rocky slope. The ground was treacherous, and shale slipped beneath her feet, making her stumble. Either John or Grant was always right there, ready to catch her.
As the sun rimmed the mountain peaks with gold, morning mist shrouded them. It was like walking through a primeval land where a dinosaur might emerge at any moment. The world was hushed, not even a birdcall disturbing the silence. The only sounds were their footsteps and the sliding stones beneath their feet.
After two nights with very little sleep, Sherrie should've been dragging, yet she'd never felt more keyed up. She had a sense of marching toward her destiny, which should've been frightening, but was invigorating. At last she'd know why she was here-not here on the mountain, but on earth. All her life she'd felt a little different, a little set apart from other people. She used to think it was because she and her mom moved so often that she'd never made very close friends, but when she was being honest with herself, she knew her "otherness" was more than that. As an actress, she'd tried on different personas, but none of them had filled the void, nor did hooking up with men. Maybe this stranger on the mountain, crazy or evil as he might be, could give her a real answer about herself.
The sun began to burn the fog away. Sherrie started to sweat as she climbed, and her calves ached more than ever, but she recognized the rocky outcropping she'd seen in her dream. She walked toward it faster. On either side, her two companions flanked her as they climbed the path out of a ravine.
"Is this the place?" John asked. "Maybe we should find another approach that's less exposed. The guy's probably keeping a lookout. Or he might have scouts working for him." Sherrie shook her head. "No. He's alone up here." Always alone.
John reached for her arm. "Wait. We still don't know exactly what we're facing or the extent of his power. He might-"
There was a rumbling noise, and the ground trembled. More of the loose shale crumbled from beneath Sherrie's feet, and she fell, stones stabbing into her knees. She'd lived in L.A. long enough to immediately think, Earthquake. But that wasn't likely here. As John landed on top of her, shielding her body from a shower of pebbles and stones, she amended her thought to Avalanche!
Rocks tumbled around them. She caught a glimpse of Grant jumping out of the way of a large boulder as it crashed past him before grit drifted into her eyes, obscuring her vision. She squeezed them shut. John grunted near her ear, and she guessed he'd been struck by a rock.
The ground beneath them gave way. They slid down the slope, back into the ravine they'd just climbed out of. Sherrie reached in vain for John's hand as he tumbled away from her then she grabbed for anything to stop her fall. Her fingers scrabbled against rock and hard earth, her fingernails digging into dirt, but there was nothing to stop her fall. Gravel and rock pelted her until she landed on the ground with a breath-jarring thump.
As quickly as it had started, the rock slide ended. Sherrie blinked and coughed, clearing her eyes and throat of dust. She rose on her hands and knees to look around. Nearby, John sat and shook dust from his hair. Not far away on the other side of her, Grant lay prone beside a boulder the size of a Volkswagen.