10. CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10
I t was past noon on Saturday as Lexi yawned over her second cup of coffee. Her big Persian cat, Dexter, rubbed his white fur against her ankle, which was still bruised and throbbing from the tumble she took on the street the night before.
Hard evidence that her interdimensional bar-hop had been no hallucination.
Her head throbbed, too. Not from pain, but rather a million questions, a restless night of sleep, and a single, insatiable need—to go back.
She rose from the table, pacing the kitchen before coming to a stop at her front door. The desire to fling it open and run straight back to the secret club and beg for an immediate crossing was such a powerful craving it left her shaking. It made sense though. That entire new universe made sense in a way this one didn’t, tempting her with possibilities and previously undreamt-of futures.
Her stomach growled, stopping the flow of thoughts with a sudden hunger pang the likes of which she’d never experienced. God damn , she was hungry. Like she hadn’t eaten in a week. A man-sized hungry. A big man.
She opened the fridge, eyeing the carton of eggs, the sourdough loaf, the Greek yogurt, the strawberries. Or maybe the bacon. Maybe all of that and the bacon .
The phone rang, her smorgasbord fantasy interrupted by the ringtone assigned to her mother.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” she said, gazing longingly at a package of bagels on the counter.
“Just checking in. Any luck with the job search?”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours.”
“I know, honey. But don’t wait too long. I’m worried about you. I tried calling all night, but you never answered. I kept thinking you had another one of those blackouts and were lying in the gutter somewhere.”
Oh geez. Did all mothers jump immediately to the “lying in the gutter” scenario when they couldn’t reach their daughter for more than a few hours, or just hers? She wasn’t that far off, however. Lexi’s ankle ached at the reminder.
“I’m fine. I was out with Margot, trying to get my mind off things for a while.”
Silence.
She should’ve known better than to mention Margot on top of everything else. Her mother wasn’t particularly in favor of her best friend’s lifestyle.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be going out right now? I mean, what with your visions and all, not to mention you should be saving every dime until you find another job.”
“Mom, please, relax. I have some money in the bank, and I had a nice time.” Nice time? Shit, she’d need to pull out a thesaurus to find the words to describe her Friday night.
“Seriously, Lex? This isn’t the time for partying. In fact, your father and I have been talking.”
Oh crap.
“We want you to come home. We’ll even fly out and get you, help you pack up.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine right here. ”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll drive back across the country together, the three of us. Like one of our old family vacation road trips.”
Lexi recognized all too well the particular tone of cheery her mom had forced into her voice. It meant, “I’m trying to sound light and supportive, but really, I’m worried out of my freakin’ skull . ”
“I appreciate it, I do. But Phoenix isn’t my home. Hell, it’s barely yours. You only moved out there a few years ago. And I hate the desert. My home is here.” Anxiety flared at the idea of leaving Philadelphia, particularly now, and her face grew flushed and hot. She considered sticking her head in the freezer.
“All right, honey. Calm down. We won’t do anything rash. But please, Alexa, if you don’t find another job soon, or if the visions keep happening, let’s talk about your options.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Speaking of visions, have you had any more since the other day?”
She hadn’t. Unless, of course, you counted the real life, flesh and blood versions of the dreams crossing her path all night long. As of this morning, Lexi had more intriguing things on her mind than the curse of her precognition.
Or was it even a curse? Alana’s words came back to her. The ability of foresight is considered quite a gift to us . And maybe not just foresight. Alana had thought perhaps Lexi had other skills as well. Telepathy, she’d mentioned, and clairvoyance, which was the ability to remotely observe something occurring elsewhere in real time. Lexi had never experienced anything like that before.
“Nothing since the other day.”
“That’s good news. You call if you need us. And if things don’t look up soon, let’s talk about that road trip, all right?”
Lexi sneezed. She adored the scent of hay, so clean and fresh. But it always made her nose itch, and boy was she surrounded by it… right… now …
She blinked, confused by the sudden overwhelming aroma. Turning slowly in a circle, she half expected to find she’d been transported to a stable. She sneezed again, though her apartment appeared bale-free as usual.
“Alexa?” Her mom’s voice startled her, but cleared the phantom smell.
“I will. I promise,” she said, shaking her head at the second weird sensation of the morning. Had she become possessed by the ghost of a ravenous cowboy? “Love you, mom,” she said before clicking off.
She was overly excited and short on sleep, that’s all. Meditation might help.
Sitting down on the living room floor, she folded her legs into the lotus position and took some deep calming breaths. But she couldn’t stop thinking about what Alana had said. Honestly, she’d been pretty freaked out by her use of the world oracle , which Lexi thought of as a powerful image, and not one she’d associate with a person who blacked out in public and got fired from jobs.
She wondered if someone in the other world could teach her to control her skill, make use of it. Her one four-hour visit had opened the door to possibilities, but there’d been no time for actual lessons. If there were a way for her to learn, maybe she could create a more meaningful life for herself here.
Or better yet, there . Because in this world, she was a freak. And she was lonely. Now she’d found an entire universe of people who would understand her. Where she wouldn’t have to hide. Wouldn’t have to be lonely.
She released a breath she now realized she’d been holding for decades.
A new world, new knowledge, new possibilities.
And Gideon. The thought of him sent an instant buzz through her core .
Yeah, she’d talk to Margot immediately. Find out if her visit had been a one-time ride or not. She prayed it wasn’t. She’d beg if that’s what it took. Because now she had to go back.
She needed more information, and she needed… she needed…
Pancakes! Big fluffy, syrup-soaked pancakes. Her mind suddenly filled with an outrageous desire for flapjacks. And who even uses the word flapjacks anymore?
She jumped back up, raced to kitchen, and grabbed her mixing bowl.
Gideon poked at the remains of his Saturday brunch, the once fluffy flapjacks now a syrup-soaked paste, but his stomach was finally full. The previous night had gone so unexpectedly off-course, he’d never taken a moment for dinner, and fell asleep in the wee hours having not eaten. This morning he’d overslept and had to race to the stable, saddle up, and make a hurried ride out to meet his cousin Julian at their favorite tavern in the Philadelphia countryside. By the time he sat down at the table, he was so famished he’d been ready to order almost everything on the menu, and nearly did. Eggs, bacon, fruit, and the buckwheat hotcakes.
“When do you plan on meeting with the Council?” Julian’s voice barely penetrated Gideon’s thoughts.
They’d been discussing the previous night’s events, but the longer Gideon had sat there talking and eating, the more he’d become distracted by a stream of disjointed and intrusive images running though his mind’s eye. Images that made no sense to him. The more they inundated his thoughts, the more convinced he became they were coming from someone else. And due to the nature of what he was seeing, that someone else had to be Lexi.
Which had to be impossible .
Julian snapped his fingers in front of Gideon’s face. “Cousin. Care to rejoin me in conversation?”
“What? Oh, sorry.” He set his coffee mug back onto the time-worn wood table, absentmindedly lining it up with a matching ring stain that had likely been there for a century. “I seem to have an unexpected guest muddling around in my brain right now.”
Julian paused, a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth. “What on God’s green earth—either of them—are you talking about?”
Gideon filled him in on the distracting thoughts he’d been having—and sensing, smelling, hearing—of meditation, white cats, and, well, food.
His cousin pushed his empty plate away, reaching for the cigar in his pocket. “So what? You’ve been filling your face with ridiculous quantities for the last hour, you meditate every day, and you’re fond of animals. What makes you think it’s not just your own wandering mind?”
At first Gideon had thought the same. That he was merely over-tired and unfocused. But in the last few minutes it had become clear that these images were not his own. At least not entirely. Ms. Cross was somehow broadcasting her thoughts, which mixed with his own, making it difficult to know if an idea was coming from him or her.
The experience was much more confused and mixed up than it had been the night before, no doubt a result of their being so far apart—a literal universe apart—on this occasion. This time the content got jumbled in the transmission. Whose breakfast? Whose confusion? Whose… zap of heat to the groin? But it was clear enough.
“I’m quite positive it’s not simply my own random musings. This was a specific white cat with a blue collar. Strangely packaged food in one of World Two’s electric ice boxes. And,” his cheeks warmed, and he scanned the tavern rather than meet his cousin’s eyes, “those were clearly not my legs folded under me in meditation. Far too shapely and smooth.”
Julian slowly formed a grin around his ever-present cigar. “Ah, your intriguing brunette from last night.” He pulled the still unlit smoke from his mouth. “You literally can’t get her out of your mind.” Julian’s deep belly laugh attracted the attention of other patrons, and Gideon noticed the women’s gazes lingering on him well after the echoes of his outburst faded and his expression grew serious. “I never thought it possible to connect telepathically across dimensions.”
“Neither did I. I’ve never heard of it happening. Perhaps I’m wrong and there’s another explanation. I should look into—”
“Stop with the rationalizations, cousin. Between what you experienced last night and now this morning, you’ve clearly got some kind of powerful connection with her. And she’s obviously a mighty strong psychic. I have to say, I’m envious.”
“I don’t know if it’s anything to be envious about,” Gideon grumbled. “It’s damn distracting.”
“But what a damn fine distraction it is.” He spoke this more to their server, who’d stepped up at that moment with the bill. He winked at her, and she smiled in return, her eyes roaming his cousin’s powerful physique and the long Viking-style braids women always fawned over. Julian’s own gaze lingered a little too long over the woman’s backside as she turned and walked away from them.
Gideon leaned back in his chair. “You’ve never failed to have all the female attention you could possibly want.”
Julian’s eyes lit up as a smile spread across his face. “But I’ve yet to find the one , and that’s what I seek. The woman meant for me and me alone. And I the only one for her. She’s out there somewhere, and I won’t settle for less.”
Gideon took a swig of coffee, silence his only response to his cousin’s ideals of romance. Not because he didn’t believe there might be an amazing woman out there, his perfect partner to share a life with. Rather, he’d already learned well just how easily tragedy could sneak up, lying in wait around a random street corner, taking your loved one and leaving you with decades of pain. Intellectual pursuits were a far safer bet than emotional ones.
“Your visions of romance are a lovely fairytale, but all I’m feeling at the moment is a split personality happening in my brain, which is damned inconvenient.”
Julian shrugged. “Next time you see her, you might want to teach her how to block the bleed-over. I doubt she has any idea that it’s happening, let alone how to prevent it.”
“Not sure when I would teach her. After last night, and until I’m given permission to close the portal, I plan to be quite strict about who’s allowed to cross. As few as possible. And I don’t see any reason for her to be back.” A wave of empathy speared his chest. “I can send her some of our world’s books on precognition and telepathy.”
“Send her some books ? My big delectable round arse, you’ll send her some books.” This earned a few giggles from the young ladies seated at the next table. “Cousin, you’re telepathically connecting across dimensions. She’s your girl. At some point you’ll be begging to bring her back. Time will prove me right.” Julian leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled like a joker. “This is going to be outstanding to watch.”
Gideon curled his lip in defiance, but while they gathered their things to leave, Julian whistled and hummed, and the energy vibrations of his cousin’s psychic skill, his voice, soothed his mood . Like Alana, Julian’s talent could calm any savage beast—human or otherwise—and by the time they mounted their horses, Gideon was chuckling instead of grumbling. Finding, perhaps, a bit more delight than annoyance at the idea of the lovely visitor in his mind.
After riding home, tending to and stabling his horse, he walked the last couple blocks from the mews to his home—a three-story colonial brick townhouse. Tugging off his boots, he made his way barefoot to the kitchen where he put the kettle on for tea as he tried to reason out what had happened during breakfast.
Although no one ever reported being able to communicate telepathically to World Two, clearly it was possible. Lexi had been meditating at one point this morning. Maybe it just took some extra effort and a calm mental state. It didn’t hurt that she was psychic. He had to see if the full connection was possible. The scientific ramifications would be incredible, and he could teach her to block her thoughts, too, so he wouldn’t be walking around his world in a state of confusion.
Sinking into the most comfortable overstuffed chair he had, mug of tea in hand, he closed his eyes, wondering if he could clear his mind and concentrate hard enough to…
“Miss Cross, can you hear me?” He immediately felt her response. Not in words, but in her surprise. She pulled her mind back from him a moment, but then she relaxed. “Lexi, just think the words. Talk to me as if I were right in front of you.”
“Gideon?” It was faint, but it was there.
“Yes, it’s me. That’s it. Just talk. Don’t overthink it.”
He sensed her struggle and then…
“Holy crap!” she said. “I’m doing it! I’m talking to you!”
Gideon laughed, her surprise and joy moving through his own body like a tickle of champagne bubbles.
“How is this possible?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “As far as I know, it’s unheard of.”
“Wow.”
“Indeed.”
She snickered.
“What?” he asked.
“You use that word a lot. You say it like a pronouncement.” She mentally imitated his deep voice. “Indeed. ”
This time they both laughed, and hearing her do so, the sound felt oddly familiar, comfortable, like he’d been hearing that laugh for years. Was it possible he had been?
Her mood sobered then. “Gideon, what happened to Vik and Alana last night?”
His shoulders dropped with the reminder, and he filled her in on all he knew, which wasn’t much, but she must have felt his worry and caught a hint of the suspicions he’d examined with Vik and Alana.
“Wait, do you guys think I had something to do with that?” Indignation combined with panic poured off her, swamping his senses. He stifled an urge, which wasn’t his own, to get up and pace.
“No, Lexi, we don’t think that.” At least, not directly.
“Are you sure?”
A wall of worry, and years of hurt, rolled off her and pummeled his mind and gut. A lifetime of Lexi being questioned, doubted, rejected. Now she’d found a world where she’d be understood and accepted, only to feel questioned yet again. Gideon shifted uncomfortably as her heart rate sped up, fight or flight kicking in, and right behind it a deep sadness as she braced herself for more loss.
“Yes, I’m sure. Please believe me.” He suddenly wished he could pull back even the most tangential doubt from his mind, appalled that his most minor thoughts could somehow be a source of distress for her.
He gripped the arms of his chair, anger building with each beat of his heart. She’d experienced pain over and over, all because her world failed to understand, and therefore feared, a perfectly normal skill, one which in his world was considered a blessing. He fantasized about rounding up everyone who’d ever caused her that pain and giving them a little taste of his own abilities. Maybe toss them a few hundred feet into a brick wall.
“Uh, Gideon? What’s all that? ”
Shit. He was unused to having someone in his mind. And, yeah, what the hell was all that? Breathe, you damn brute. She didn’t ask for a vigilante hero.
But her anxiety calmed, and she giggled. “Hey, I appreciate the thought, even though, yeah, I probably wouldn’t choose to have anyone thrown into a wall.”
Again, he’d forgotten she was in his mind too. Damn.
Every girl dreams of a hero, though, he heard next, though like his own previous thoughts, the words weren’t really spoken to him; they were her own private musings. They both seriously needed to learn how to safely navigate these telepathic waters.
What he accidentally heard made him smile though. The thought of being her hero made his blood pump a little faster. His cock grow a little firmer. Which brought a new concern—would she sense his physical reaction?
She gasped and giggled. Yeah. She sensed it, and though a wave of self-consciousness threatened his ego, her own body pulsed in response. He felt that too.
“I guess we have much to learn about this telepathy,” he offered, as her blush heated his thoughts. “I apologize for the unintentionally intrusive experiences I’m sharing with you. Not very… heroic… of me after all.”
He felt her eyes widen as she realized what she’d accidentally shared with him, but she didn’t flinch at the vulnerability. In fact, he sensed her smile.
He teased further. “ Although I can’t say I’m not enjoying this unique conversation.”
“Are you mind-flirting with me, Mr. Ashe?”
He tipped his head back and laughed. A truly robust laugh of his own, a joy he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. She’d caught him; he had indeed been flirting. Which had not been his intention when he’d reached out to her. Though if he were truthful, he’d been unable to stop thinking about her late into the night and again upon rising this morning, even before their minds had begun melding. This woman kept him honest.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” he conceded. And wasn’t that just the pisser. Because every time he intended to shut down their interaction, for all his long list of very good reasons, something about her pulled him in deeper instead. Whether she was standing right in front of him or speaking to him from another goddamn dimension.
She was blushing again, but didn’t shy away. “ Okay, so when might we have an opportunity to practice this dance in person?”
Right this very minute would have been nice, if things hadn’t suddenly gone to hell in the last twenty-four hours. But it had, and his shoulders dropped as he sank further into his chair.
Good God, he was an asshole. He’d reached out to her this morning to alert her to the telepathic overflow and to assess this new possibility of interdimensional telepathy. At least, that’s what he’d told himself. Instead, he’d gotten lost in the sound of her laughter, and her vulnerable, gorgeous, enthusiasm, and made the whole thing worse. For both of them. He couldn’t remember ever being so irresponsible with his actions.
Or maybe he was only now seeing it.
He cleared his throat. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure that’s the best—”
“Ohhhh—”
“Lexi?”
At first, he thought she was reacting to his negative thoughts, or his mention of the portal.
“Miss Cross?”
But that wasn’t it.
Abruptly pulled out of the present, Lexi was in a waking dream. He could see it right along with her, through her eyes.
And it was bad .
She sat in a small, confined room. Someplace sterile and industrial, like a storage closet. Her hands were bound behind her back, and there was a loud whining noise waxing and waning. Her forehead throbbed with a burning pain. She was scared. So scared. And calling out for him.
“I’m here, Lexi, I’m right here!” Gideon shouted, not only mentally, but out loud in his living room. But that wasn’t going to work. He was shouting to her in the here and now, whereas she was calling for him in a vision, in a place and time that hadn’t yet occurred. There was nothing he could do but wait for the dream to play out, side by side with her.
The imagery switched to a different scene. Lexi down on a tiled floor, glass cutting into her bloodied knees, panic washing through her. It switched again, and again she was kneeling, this time a clean scent of hay surrounded her, and dirt and straw covered the ground beneath her. She looked at her hands, her palms covered in blood. So much blood. And grief. Oh God, the confusion and grief. Over what, neither of them knew. He experienced it all, right along with her.
“Lexi! Lexi, wake up. You’re having a vision. I’m right here.”
She coughed. Her head jerked and her eyes fluttered open. She was confused briefly, not remembering that he was there.
“Lexi?” he said gently.
There was silence for a moment while she sorted things out. “Gideon?”
“I’m right here.”
“Were you… were you here the whole time?”
“Yes. I saw what you saw. All of it ,” he said, and waited for her to respond. When she didn’t, he continued. “Those images, have you seen them before? ”
“No, they’re new. And I can’t say I’m particularly excited about them.” She gave a short, forced laugh, trying to put up a brave, almost nonchalant front, but she was petrified.
“Lexi…” She didn’t respond, and her thoughts were so filled with panic he couldn’t make them out as clearly as before. Anxiety and fear put a definite stress on their telepathic connection. “We’ll figure this out together. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Okay?”
She silently nodded, but didn’t believe he could do anything about it.
“But you’re over there. I’m here.”
“And for now, that’s probably the safest thing. In fact, until we understand what happened last night with Vik and Alana, it’s best if you stay there. We can revisit this—”
“No! Gideon, no, I want to come back!”
He felt the panic rising in her again.
“Anyway, it doesn’t work like that,” she said. “My visions, I can’t out-guess them. Believe me, I’ve had twenty-some years to learn that doing something to try and avoid a vision is just as likely to be the path that causes it to occur.” She paused. “Besides, that room I was in, the one where my hands were bound…” Her heart rate rose and his sped up to match it. “...there were fluorescent lights in that room. I saw them. It couldn’t have been in your world. It was in mine.”
Gideon had seen that too, and she was right. He ground his teeth at the thought of her being in such jeopardy while out of his reach.
“Okay, granted. But in all of your very long twenty-some years,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, bringing a harrumph from Lexi, “you’ve never had us—Vik, Alana, me, and others from my world. Our abilities are a tool you’ve never had at your disposal before. Even if I have to help you from afar. ”
“ Maybe.”
But her thoughts betrayed her frustration. She was more scared about the visions than she was willing to voice, and she was thinking that a hero stuck in another dimension was really no hero at all.
“Lexi, I know you’re afraid. But you must believe me when I tell you it’s already brilliantly clear to me that you are far more powerful than you realize. And though only time will tell whether I can be that hero standing right beside you, I promise, I will prove to you this: you are already your own heroine.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. Tears he knew to be borne not just of lingering fear and emotional overload—she was, after all, receiving all of his thoughts and emotions too—but of hope, and for the first time in her life, the experience of being respected. If nothing else, he could give her that.
He shook his head. The weight of their joint emotions was severing whatever connection tethered them. “Lexi?” His own voice sounded distant, and her answer as if shouted from the moon. When he reached out to her again, she was gone.