Ascension - Laura Hall (books for 20 year olds TXT) 📗

I woke up the next morning panting, covered in sweat, and with a pounding headache. I also had total recall of a dream. No, not a dream—a vision. I didn’t know how I knew the difference, but I did.

Whether it had been a glimpse of the present or future, I couldn’t say, but it had me scrambling out of bed, yanking on a robe, and running for the door adjoining my bedroom to the Prime’s suite. The key turned easily. The door swung inward at my shove. I was across the threshold and halfway to the king-sized bed before my brain came online.

Skidding to a stop, I gawked at six and a half feet of naked, golden skinned Prime, currently lying on his stomach amidst silvery sheets. Muscles I hadn’t known existed in the human body shifted in his back as he lifted onto his elbows and turned his head.

Emerald eyes glowed in the dimness. “I’m going to assume you used the door impulsively and not for its intended use.” His voice was low, gravelly with sleep, and did unmentionable things to my body.

“I had a dream,” I blurted, averting my eyes entirely when they kept creeping downward. “I saw Rosie. She was talking to that bald Liberati. They were in a warehouse. There was . . .” I swallowed, “an electric chair. Ethan was there, too. He was in a cell, a freestanding cage with electric bars. He was yelling my name. There were other cages. Cages. With people in them. Supernaturals. I think I saw a bear.”

Sheets rustled as he rolled off the bed, his back to me as he yanked on pants. I didn’t realize I was shaking like a leaf until his hands settled on my shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, tugging me forward until my cheek rested against his chest.

Electricity surged, but it was muted, a low hum as he absorbed my charge. One hand stroked my back, up and down, while the other cradled my head.

I clung to him shamelessly, reveling in the touch of another after the horror of the dream. “God, it was awful,” I whispered. “Was it the future or the present?”

“As of last night, Ethan was still in Seattle, so I doubt it was the present. Have you tried locating Rosie since the gala?”

I nodded, inadvertently nuzzling my face against his skin. “She’s still driving,” I said, a little breathlessly. “Last time I checked she was in California. Heading east to Nevada, I think. I saw a few road signs but not much else.”

Fingers played with my hair, twirling the strands down my spine. His other hand traveled to my neck and began gently kneading stiff muscles. I sighed, shifting against him, and made an incoherent noise of pleasure.

He whispered my name.

My bubble of contentment burst. Jerking away, I pulled my loosened robe closed and knotted the belt tightly.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

He dragged hands through his hair, pausing with his fingers laced atop his head. “This is ridiculous,” he told the ceiling.

I blinked, looking up from his sculpted chest. “Huh?”

“It’s your scent.”

I frowned. “What?”

He lowered his arms, once more composed. “Your scent. And the memory of how your blood tastes. Your charge, which makes my heart beat faster and makes me feel. . .” He huffed in frustration. “Alive. Almost human again. Those are the reasons I can’t stop touching you even though you’ve asked me repeatedly to stop. I even attempted to frighten you into keeping your distance, but we both know how well that worked.”

My emotions bounced between satisfaction, hurt, and hilarity. “Are you telling me that I’m glamouring you?”

He grunted. “An apt descriptor, actually.”

I stared at him. He stared at me. Tension thickened the space between us. My body screamed with need, urging me to take, feel, live.

He was so goddamn beautiful, a feast for my eyes and senses, displayed in low-slung lounge pants like a carnal buffet. It would be so easy to push him down to the rumpled bed and, for a while, forget everything. I wanted him, more than I’d wanted anyone. Ever.

But, as he’d said, impulse control separated us from the animals. He wanted my blood, and the effects of my power.

He didn’t want me.

Slowly, excruciatingly, I rebuilt the defensive wall around my emotions. The bricks were his countless inconsistencies, the mortar his incapability of giving me what I needed.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “I can’t give you that.”

His heart.

I looked at him from within my self-imposed fortress and shrugged. “You can’t be the only man on the planet who can touch me. There’s got to be at least one or two others.”

He smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “More than one or two. Ethan was unaffected, as I’m sure you recall.”

My brows went up. “That’s right, he picked me up after my bracelets came off. Why do you suppose he can touch me but Adam can’t?”

Connor’s eyes flared with a muted glow, then dimmed. He turned on his heel. “Forgive me, Fiona, I have a phone call.”

“Wait! What are we going to do about my vision?”

He paused while walking toward what I assumed was a closet. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “To begin, I’m going to answer Prime Kilpatrick’s phone call and get an update on the investigation in Oklahoma.”

My anxiety lowered a notch. “Will you ask if they had cages there? And if anyone picked up the scent of a werebear?”

“Yes, though the Liberati usually scent-wipe their labs when they leave.” A dark brow rose, mouth tilting wryly. “Anything else? Or do you trust me to uncover pertinent details?”

I bristled. “Maybe I’d trust you more if you hadn’t been consistently withholding information from me.”

He nodded shortly, lips compressing. “You’re right. I’ve withheld information, under the misguided impression I was protecting you.” His eyes narrowed, burning and bright. “But you don’t need protection, do you, mo spréach?”

“No, I don’t.”

I’m not Gabriella, I thought forcefully.

He flinched, then murmured, “No, you most certainly are not.”

A second later, I was alone in the room.