Chapter Twenty-Six
The Oh, shit did not bode well, Owen decided. In his admittedly limited experience, she did not resort to raw language unless, in her view, the situation was dire.
In this case, she was right. He could barely think now. The heavy undertow of sleep was pulling him down into the depths. He struggled to focus on the one thing he had to do before he lost consciousness.
“Get out of here,” he rasped. “Take the sled. Hotel coordinates are in the locator.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Alice said.
“Don’t argue. Not now. Go.”
“I think I can get you on your feet for a while, long enough to make it down to the sled. But you’ll have to trust me.”
“How—?” He couldn’t finish the question. He was too far away.
“The sedative affects your dreamstate energy. So does my talent.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain later.”
He was vaguely aware of her taking his hand as if to lead him somewhere. He liked the feel of her fingers threaded through his. She was inviting him to go with her. He wanted to do that, needed to do it. But his body was too heavy.
A lightning-sharp pulse of energy flashed across his senses. It acted like a powerful stimulant, driving him to his feet. He heard an enthusiastic chortle and then Sebastian landed on his shoulder. The dust bunny’s small, sturdy aura seemed to enhance the effect.
“What in green hell?” It dawned on him that he was no longer slurring his words.
“Not now.” Alice tugged him toward the shadowed doorway. “We have to get into the Underworld. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’ve never done this before. It’s…difficult. Pretty sure that eventually we’re both going to crash. Hard.”
He wanted to ask more questions, but she was right. This wasn’t the time.
Priorities, March.
He was about to step over the unconscious Sykes when he remembered another priority.
“Phone,” he said. “Sykes’s phone.”
“What?”
“Get it. I’m lightheaded. If I bend down to search him, I might faint.”
“Okay, but whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand. I need physical contact to maintain the connection at this level.”
“I have no idea what you’re doing to me, but I won’t let go of your hand.”
He watched her crouch and fumble with Sykes’s jacket. Everything around her began to waver.
“I can’t find it,” she said.
He tried to focus and managed to see her clearly for a few seconds.
“Belt,” he said.
She reached inside Sykes’s leather jacket, found the belt and the phone that was clipped to it. “Got it.”
“Don’t lose it. We’ll need it.”
“Right.” She dropped the phone into one of the pockets of her windbreaker, straightened, and drew him into the dark interior of the club. “But stop giving orders. I’m the one in charge now.”
“Fine by me.” He followed her into the shadows. “I can’t see very well.”
“That’s because you’re in a waking dreamstate. I’m trying to keep you in the borderlands so that you’ll be able to stay on your feet, but you will probably start hallucinating.”
“Great. Something to look forward to.”
“I told you, I haven’t done this before.”
She was starting to sound irritated.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
The grimy mirror behind the backbar reflected the beam of Alice’s flashlight, illuminating a scattering of dusty liquor bottles, a long row of stools, and the dilapidated stage. A playbill featuring an aging crooner dangled from a display stand.
On his shoulder, Sebastian crouched and chortled in a reassuring way.
The first vision struck when they were halfway down the basement stairs. Alice was on the steps ahead of him, one hand wrapped around his, the other on the railing.
She blurred a little and then came back into focus. But there was a marked change in her appearance. She was wearing her pajamas and her hair was loose around her shoulders. Somehow he knew she was leading him to the big bed in the middle of the suite.
Another jolt of energy zapped through him. He recognized it immediately. He was getting hard, fast.
“Good plan,” he said.
“What?” Alice glanced back at him, frowning in concern. “Damn, you’re seeing things, aren’t you?”
“It’s okay. I like what I’m seeing.”
“I’m going to pull back a little. Try not to fall.”
She wavered and rematerialized in the jacket and pants she’d had on a moment ago. Her hair was once again anchored in a tight knot at the back of her head.
“Better?” she asked, clearly worried.
“Maybe, but not as much fun as the other vision.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Alice shot him another quick, concerned glance. “Are you seeing things again?”
“No. Sadly.”
She started to say something but apparently changed her mind because they had reached the door that covered the hole-in-the-wall.
“It’s still locked,” she announced, sounding relieved. “I hope that means Sykes’s crew didn’t find the sled.”
Owen watched her use his lockpick to open the door.
“Good job,” he said. “You’ve got a natural talent for B and E work.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Psi-green energy glowed in the rip in the ancient wall. Currents of paranormal energy wafted out. Sebastian made encouraging noises and bounced a little.
“Amber check,” Alice said briskly.
He managed to summon enough concentration to make sure he could pick up the vibe of his tuned amber.
“I’m good,” he said. His voice sounded sleepy.
He let Alice draw him through the crack in the wall and into the heavy energy that flooded the Underworld.
The hallucination struck again, this time overwhelming his senses. He was back in the suite at the Amber Palace, following Alice toward the rumpled bed. She was once again in her pajamas, but he knew that soon she would take them off and they would be in bed together.
He needed to be naked with her, skin to skin, settled between her thighs. He needed to be deep inside her. Needed to feel her tighten around him. Needed to make her come so hard she would never be able to forget him…
“Owen. Snap out of it. I could use a little help here.”
A ripple of jarring energy pulsed through him, dragging him partway out of the fantasy. The scene of the rumpled bed grew semitransparent but it did not completely dissolve. Instead, he was left teetering on the precarious edge between the waking state and the dreamstate.
Priorities, March.
He was getting bored with the stern self-lectures. They all sounded the same.
He rallied his senses, blinked several times in an attempt to stay in the real world, and tried to take in his surroundings.
He was half sitting, half sprawled on the passenger side of the sled’s front bench seat. Alice’s fingers were no longer threaded through his. She had both hands clamped around the steering wheel of the sled.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his murky vision. “What’s the problem?”
“I’ve never driven one of these things. The coordinates for the hotel are set in the locator, but I need some instruction on how to operate the sled.”
He forced himself to focus. “Simple,” he mumbled. He realized he was slurring his words again. “Just rez that button on the right side of the control panel and step on the accelerator. Drives like a golf cart.”
“I’ve never driven a golf cart, either,” Alice said. “There were no golf courses near the Ballantine Academy.”
She rezzed the button and floored the accelerator.
The little sled lurched forward and took off at full speed. Owen was jolted against the back of the seat. That produced another splash of adrenaline. For a couple of beats he was almost wide awake.
Sebastian was tossed off the dashboard by the sudden acceleration. He landed on the bench beside Owen. His sunglasses ended up on the floor of the sled. He chortled gleefully.
“Uh, the controls are a little sensitive,” Owen said, trying for a diplomatic tone.
“No kidding,” Alice said.
But she eased up on the throttle.
Sebastian recovered his shades and bounced back onto the dash. He leaned into the breeze created by the fast-moving vehicle. His gray fur was plastered against his small frame.
“There’s something I need to remember in the morning,” Owen mumbled. “Remind me.”
“Remind you of what?”
“It has to do with that crew that tried to grab you a few minutes ago.”
“What about that crew do you want to remember?”
“Just say low-rent operation. That should do it.”
“Can you be a little more specific?”
“No. Can’t think.” He slumped deeper into the seat and rested his head on her shoulder. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.”
He tried to focus on the upcoming intersection. “You might want to slow down before you turn the corner.”
She took one hand off the wheel, reached out, and touched his wrist.
“You can go back to dreamland now,” she said.
“Okay. But remember, low-rent.”
“Sleep, Owen.”
He sensed another whisper of energy and then the tunnel faded around him. He was once again exactly where he wanted to be—in the big bed in the suite with Alice. Unfortunately, she was still in her pajamas.