Lucidity (9 page)

Carly opened her mouth to speak and found Parker watching her. Was he waiting for her to grin, to agree, after he’d publicly declared her his personal albatross? “Violet—”

“Trust me on this, hon.” She winked. “We’re all going to get through this little crisis and become the best of friends. Sam and I will begin working on the project we really want to do and set up shop in the little country cottage we spotted a couple of weeks ago. With lots of chimes. I love the sound of chimes. It’s like dreams being scattered in the wind.” Her eyes, mulberry dark and so true to her name, crinkled with happiness. “And we’ll have a dog and a cat who glare at each other across the room, and seven children with curly dark hair who’ll learn how to make their dreams come true. And you two will be their godparents and spoil them rotten, and—”

Carly nearly leaped out of her seat at the sound of twin ring tones going off. She was used to her own, but hearing Violet’s simultaneously was enough to strike a nerve—and to make Parker wearily scrub his face.

As if the theme from
Close Encounters
wasn’t bad enough, her friend had chosen the tune “Big Rock Candy Mountain”. How fabulous was that?

“Sam, Vi, I’m sorry,” she murmured, reaching for her coat as Parker rose. “We’ve stayed too long. We’ll be going now, let you get to your sleep.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve got to sleep too.” Violet pushed off from the floor and grabbed Carly’s hand. “C’mon. We’ll do it together. It’ll be like old times. Do you still wear those thick flannel pajamas?”

“Flannel?” Parker barked.

“No, really, hon, it’s okay,” Carly hedged. Parker would never let her live the pajamas down. “I can curl up in the car. I’ve done it before.”

“Nonsense.” Violet was already dragging her to the rear of the apartment, grinning apologetically at Munroe. “The call is for two hours of dreaming, and I’ve got a soft, roomy bed. Don’t worry. Sam will entertain your guy. And frankly, I imagine he could use a break too.”

Carly turned down the plump scarlet quilt on Violet’s bed and sat uneasily on the edge. She carefully removed her stained boots and slid her legs beneath the covers as her friend pulled the shades in the tiny bedroom. “Vi, I want to apologize again. For the incident in the store, I mean. Parker’s behavior was unforgivable.”

Violet snickered, sending her tennis shoes sailing across the room and joining Carly with an energetic leap into bed. “We shouldn’t have surprised you that way. It was our fault. And that’s quite some bodyguard you have there. Quite some
body
.”

An old-fashioned windup clock metered minutes from the bureau, and the lacy border that lined the ceiling had been hand-stenciled with supreme care. Carly found herself smiling at the pot-bellied pitcher on the nightstand, loaded with a fresh batch of wildflowers, and warmed at the sight of the braided rug, crowded with too many colors. Hugging herself, she curled her toes into the crisp cotton sheet. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to feel so at home. “I love your place.”

“Aw, thanks. Rejecting the One Hundred’s protection means we’re not entitled to the ‘magic credit card’. But we manage.” She clucked her tongue sympathetically. “It must be very hard for you.”

“There are benefits. I’ve become a whiz at on-line solitaire and timing microwave popcorn.” She allowed her sarcasm to soften. “I’m almost used to it. And he’s a good protector. A good man.”

“With a
great
body.” Vi bounced back against her pillow and burrowed beneath the quilt. “I’m glad he’s with you. Can’t tell you how much I’ve worried about everybody they drafted for this head trip. Not being allowed to communicate meant not knowing how they were doing, whether they were all safe. And I love him to pieces, but living with Mr. Conspiracy here doesn’t help. He’s convinced the government guys would just as soon slit our throats as allow us in the same freaking room. So, it’s good to know you’re being taken care of, sweetie.” She surrendered a deep sigh. “And by that
body
.”

Carly poked her with an elbow. “Stop. You know you wouldn’t have Sam any other way.”

“Yes, I would. I’d have him
married
.” Carly watched Vi blush as if she was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. But I’m just corny enough to want the whole fairy tale. Give me the white picket fence, kids running me ragged and the husband who forgets our anniversary because he loves me more
every
day. He’s my best friend. What more could I want? Now,” she continued, tugging the cover up to her chin. “Why
haven’t you told that man out there how much you want him?”

How was it that everyone knew about her feelings except that thick-headed Munroe? “It isn’t that simple. I don’t want somebody who doesn’t want me, and the guy is all business. And even if he had those feelings, he’d never give in to them. Not Munroe. He’s so freaking
grim
, Vi. He never lets loose, never plays. Yeah, our situation is sort of unusual, but I don’t think he’d know
how
to have a good time. It’s a chore for him to crack a smile. Can you imagine making love with such a man?”

“Don’t tell Sam, but it’s on my list of lucid dreams for tonight.”

Carly shifted beside her, preparing for sleep. She was having trouble managing smiles herself lately. “I don’t really have to explain this to you, of all people. You know, Vi. It’s just not the right time.”

“Ah. I see your point.” Violet frowned as she allowed her eyes to flutter closed. “Carly? Exactly how much time, right or wrong, are you counting on having?”

They stood, watching, at the portal of the shade-darkened room. Two men, both curious and quietly concerned, their long shadows furrows across the covers of the bed.

As far as Parker was concerned, Sam was pretty accommodating for a man who’d been assaulted. The guy’s long, patriarchal beard didn’t work for him. Nor did the straight, stringy hair or round yellow shades perched halfway down his nose. Seriously. What kind of man wore yellow shades?

Still, Sam had done as his lady asked. They’d enjoyed part of an early season baseball game. He’d shared his stash of ice-cold beer, keeping what little conversation there was to sports. But, after an hour and a half, they’d had enough of each other’s company.

They were worried about their women.

Parker drank in the sight of the two, idly studying their breathing. They might have been a pair of little girls, all innocence, snuggled beneath a colorful red quilt. Leaning against the doorjamb, he shoved his hand into his vest pocket, startled to feel his pistol there. It didn’t seem to belong in this setting. The apartment was as serene as a sanctuary.

Carlotta slept peacefully on her back, her long hair rippling along the smooth surface of a pillow, breasts heaving a hypnotic rhythm in sleep. Violet cuddled against her side, her cheek resting on Carly’s shoulder as easily as if it belonged there.

Shaking his head, he whispered, afraid he would waken them, “They make quite an interesting pair, don’t they?”

Sam, slim and tall beside him, nodded in agreement. “It’d be even more interesting if Violet suddenly became madly aroused and shoved her tongue down your girl’s throat. But I’m a little freaky that way.”

Doubling over in a fit of coughing, Parker felt a hand slap him companionably on the back. “Go ahead and laugh, Munroe.” Sam chuckled. “They’ve programmed their internal clocks for two hours. A little noise won’t disturb them.”

Okay. He could actually come to like this guy after all. Wiping his eyes, he greedily gulped drafts of air. “I don’t know how you handle this, Lorrie. Or how you let her do it.”

“Simple. Violet does it because she can’t help helping. My girl has a huge heart. This is who she is. I do it because there’s a much larger picture here than presents itself.”

Parker grimaced. “Bigger than trying to save the world?”

Sam stepped back from the door and reached for an elongated black box on a dainty end table. Affecting a casual air, he pulled out the largest blunt Parker had ever seen and lit it with a flourish. “Originally, the One Hundred didn’t come together to be an instrument of the government.
Any
government. We allowed them to step in when we learned about the impending catastrophe. But it wasn’t what we, the founders, planned.”

“You mean, the coalition of governments took over your project.”

“We could hardly refuse them access to our data, considering the consequences. And then, yes, their scientists grabbed the reins.” His teeth sank viciously into the cigar. “I think you can understand how furious that made me. I never told Vi, but I honestly thought of destroying all our records and lying about the results. It was our brainchild, our baby. Can you imagine how you’d feel if a complete stranger strolled into your pissing perimeter and took Carlotta away from you?”

Blind, murderous rage was the first thought that came to mind. But he didn’t think that was what Sam needed to hear. “It’ll be worth the sacrifice if it works, won’t it?”

“If it averts the disaster—yes. But it’ll kill the vision as a whole. We only meant to touch on the telekinesis aspect. The moving of an object, like the big rock, by nonphysical means,” Sam explained, in response to Parker’s blank look.

“We’d already moved on to having the group work on other things. Violet was promoting her idea of teaching the process to kids. Imagine, a generation of children with this gift, a virtual creative ability, who are schooled to know how to use it. Or people doing remote healing via lucid dreaming, which is what I was quarterbacking for. Shrinking tumors by imagining them away. Eliminating diseases of the blood by visualizing healthy circulatory systems. But it’ll never happen now. The One Hundred will be ordered to disband after this operation, even if they succeed. They’re too powerful. And all our hard work will go to hell.”

No. It wouldn’t. There was something in the inflection of his voice, a subtle flair of passion that said Sam Lorrie had no intention of watching a bunch of bureaucrats destroy his dream. “You’re not really gonna let that happen, are you?”

Sam peeked over the rims of his glasses, stealing a look at the tattoo on his shoulder and the weapon bulging in his pocket. “Why, I would never think of disobeying the orders of a bunch of nameless, faceless men whose noble interests must be the common good, rather than the power they might wield.” He blew a puff of acrid smoke toward the ceiling. “You be sure to repeat that to your bosses when you’re asked.”

Sadly, there was a pretty good chance they
would
ask. And he’d be sure to repeat those very words. Yeah. He definitely liked this guy. “Will do. And you be careful, Sam.”

“This really isn’t the time for ‘careful’, Mr. Munroe, because there may not be much time left. I’ve sort of made peace with the idea. I’ve learned a little and lived a lot. And as long as Violet is with me, I’ll have no regrets, whatever happens. Can you honestly say the same?”

“If you’re talking about me doing my job—”

“I’m talking about you showing that beautiful woman in there the truth about how you feel. And stop looking so surprised. Any idiot could tell.” Sam offered him a toke and shrugged when Parker shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I understand. Wrong woman, wrong time, wrong circumstances. Fuck it. Stop being careful. Your orders won’t keep you warm at night. And there may be a very long night a-comin’, man. Make love to the girl. Make love to her while you still have a chance.”

Bracing his back against the door, Parker glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Maybe the guy was right. Whatever he was going to do, this was the time to do it. He’d shut himself off from people and feelings for so long it was a way of life for him.

Now, he wasn’t so sure he cared for that life.

Squeezing a cigarette from his mangled pack, Parker lit it and thoughtfully watched the slow burn. “Sam? You and Violet busy this summer?”

“You mean, other than getting married, moving into a new place, starting a family as soon as possible, and assuming there’ll be a summer? Why do you ask?”

“Just wondered,” Parker said quietly. “How do you feel about fishing?”

Chapter Nine

The room was still cloistered in dark.

Carly refused to turn the light on, to acknowledge that it was still night when she felt sure she’d been lying in bed for an eternity. Training herself to fall asleep at will was one thing; staying asleep was another, and not so easy when forced to take two or three naps every day.

She’d never minded sleeping alone before she had to. Her fiancé had snored something fierce, and seeking occasional solitude on the couch or a living room chair when he hit the high decibels was a happy escape.

But this solitaire game had been going on for over two years now. No small talk over a breakfast table. No intimate whispering in the thick of night. Hell, half the time she was reluctant to masturbate when the urge came, embarrassed by the idea that one of her myriad bodyguards might overhear. She missed being spooned, feeling the touch of another human being, the comforting warmth.

She faced the window, watching for the faint stirring of dawn beyond the trees and listening to the silence, the way the countryside seemed to hold its collective breath in anticipation of sunrise.

Uncle Vic had retired around two. She’d heard him puttering around after coming in late, then heard his television go silent. Even Munroe had gone to bed fairly early, unusually quiet, perhaps still sullen about the day at the drugstore.