Taken at Dusk (20 page)

“How pissed is Burnett at me for turning him into a kangaroo?” Miranda asked.

Kylie grinned. “I think he’s over it.”

“I’d still avoid him for a few days if I were you,” Della suggested. “I mean, did you see how mad he was when you turned him back?” She grinned. “Though not as mad as I’d have been. I swear, if it’d been me, I’d have hopped all over your ass, right after I’d kangaroo-punched Clark out. But damn, it was funny seeing Burnett hopping mad.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Miranda said. “I wasn’t even going for a kangaroo.”

“What were you going for?” Kylie asked.

“A cockatoo. I guess I said it wrong.” She pursed her lips as if thinking. “But hey, at least I figured out how to turn him back. I should get some credit for that.”

“Credit?” Della snickered. “If you hadn’t been able to change him back, I have a feeling you’d be kangaroo food right about now.”

Miranda sighed.

Kylie decided to change the subject and looked at Della. “So what happened with the pact?”

Della frowned. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out as well for us. But forget about us. How did things go with Lucas? I saw you two went outside for a while.”

Kylie bit down on her lip, unsure how much she wanted to share. “It went good.”

“How good?” asked Miranda, never one to appreciate privacy. The little witch even rubbed her hands together in giddy anticipation.

“Really good,” Kylie answered, remembering how it had felt to dance with Lucas—to kiss him as if they had all night. The memory chased away some of the ghostly chill prickling her bare arms. Kylie glanced around again to make sure Jane Doe hadn’t manifested.

“Good as in first base? Second base?” Miranda’s hazel eyes got big. “Or are we talking third?”

“We just kissed.” Remembering their accusation that she was up for sainthood, Kylie added, “And slow danced in the moonlight. It was very romantic.”

“Romantic or sexy?” Della asked. “There’s a difference, you know.”

Kylie frowned. “No, there’s not.”

“Oh yes, there is,” Della smarted off. “Romantic is … ‘Oh, he’s so sweet,’ and sexy is … ‘He’s so hot, my panties might just catch fire.’ So which was it? Romantic or sexy?”

“Panties catch fire?” Kylie rolled her eyes.

“It’s just an expression, but you know what I mean,” Della insisted. “So which was it? Romantic?” She held out one hand. “Or sexy?” She held out the other.

Kylie considered the question and then admitted the truth. “It was both.”

Miranda squealed. “Was it as hot as the kiss at the creek he gave you?”

Kylie remembered being at the creek with Lucas over a month ago. She’d fallen on top of him and they had kissed. Kissed deeply while the cold, crisp water ran over them and Lucas’s hot body pressed against hers. And she decided Della might have a point about the difference between sexy and romantic. The kiss at the creek had been sexy. Tonight had been … well, more romantic, but still sexy.

“You know, you guys have to start having your own romantic escapades. I’m tired of being the only one sharing this stuff.”

“We’re working on it,” Miranda said, and shrugged. “So? Give us more details. Was tonight as hot as the famous creek kiss?”

Socks waddled out of her bedroom and came and bumped his pointed nose against her ankle. “Not quite as hot,” Kylie said, reaching down to pick him up. She pulled the little skunk close and nuzzled his nose. “But almost.”

Remembering just how “almost as hot” tonight had been, Kylie looked at her two best friends and wondered if they might know the answer to the question she planned on asking Lucas later. “How much do you guys know about werewolves and their powers?”

“I know they’re not nearly as powerful as vampires,” Della piped up.

“I’m not talking physical strength. Other kinds of power.”

“What other kinds of power?” asked Della.

Kylie tried to figure out how to put it. “The power to persuade a girl to do things?”

“Things? What kind of things?” Della glanced at Miranda, whose eyes grew round. “Do you mean…?” They both turned back to Kylie.

“Okay, spill it,” Della said. “Just what the hell happened out in the moonlight?”

“Yeah,” Miranda added. “And don’t leave out a single juicy detail.”

Chapter Seventeen

Kylie felt her cheeks begin to redden. “Okay, it’s not what you think.…”

Even as she said the words, she knew she was lying.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “It’s exactly what you think.”

Miranda’s mouth dropped open. “You mean … Did you—”

“No.” Kylie slapped her hand against her chest. “God, no. I mean, like I told you, we just danced and kissed. But…”

“But what?” Della demanded.

“Yeah,” Miranda said. “But what?”

Kylie took a deep breath. “But … he said something that made me think that maybe he had the ability to convince me to, you know.” She blushed again.

“Do the horizontal bop?” Della offered. “Do the Humpty dance? Knock boots?”

Kylie rolled her eyes. “Where do you come up with that stuff?”

Della grinned. “I get around.”

Miranda giggled.

“Uh-huh.” Kylie felt her cheeks grow even hotter. “Anyway, yeah, that’s what I mean,” she added before the smart-mouthed vamp could come up with some more half-vulgar, half-hilarious terms for sex. “I just want to know if werewolves have any special powers, okay?”

Della leaned back in her chair. “Maybe he just means he’ll seduce you by kissing you. Let’s face it, he’s pretty hot and you said his kisses were out of this world. Hey, he makes my knees weak, and I’m vampire with a natural dislike for weres.”

“He is hot,” Miranda added.

Kylie tried not to think about her two roommates weak-kneed for Lucas.

“Then you don’t believe that power really exists?” she asked instead.

“Yeah, it exists,” Miranda said, and her brow pinched as if she were thinking. “I’ve heard something about it. Nothing specific, but just a few mumblings.”

“What have you heard?” Della and Kylie asked at the same time. Kylie put Socks down, moved to the table, and dropped onto a kitchen chair. For some reason, the ghost had decided to move on, which didn’t bother her at all. She could use some downtime.

Especially right now.

“I can’t remember the details,” Miranda said. “Just that it’s a little dangerous to date a were. It has something to do with animal pheromones. They’re basically animals, and all animals have a natural way of attracting the opposite sex.”

“Attracting like how?” Kylie asked.

“Well,” Miranda said, “lizards have a brightly colored balloony thing that they blow out from their throats and supposedly girl lizards find that all kinds of sexy.”

Kylie shook her head. “Lucas doesn’t have a balloon in his throat.”

“Hey,” Della added. “Have you ever seen those blackbirds—grackles, I think they’re called—do the mating dance? They jump around on one foot and ruffle their feathers out. The females supposedly get horny just seeing the male birds do it. I mean, the guy with the better feathers always wins. Or is it the bigger feathers?”

Miranda snickered. “And I heard some male baboons have brightly colored buttocks and they go around mooning the females. Supposedly it’s a huge turn-on.”

While Kylie was serious about finding answers, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think Lucas has colored buttocks, either. Not that I’ve seen them.” She laughed harder.

Before their conversation was over, Della was on the computer looking up strange mating behaviors that included everything from exploding testicles to slinging poop with a tail, and they laughed themselves silly until way past midnight. It was, Kylie decided as she finally slipped into bed, just the type of evening she needed.

Although she still didn’t have the answer to her original question: Just what kind of power did Lucas really have?

And could she trust him not to misuse it? Her gut said she could. But was her gut being persuaded by outside influences?

*   *   *

The floating sensation filled Kylie’s head several hours after she went to bed that night. Mental alarms went off. Was this Red again? Then she realized the difference: she was floating, which meant she was the one moving.

She considered trying to stop it, but she was too tired, so she just let herself go. Let herself float and zip through the air—moving through clouds of sleep.

The sense of freedom was exhilarating. She didn’t have a clue where she was going, and she didn’t care. Obviously, her subconscious had a plan. But what?

And then she saw him. He looked so good, lying in his bed, that her breath caught and she put on her flying brakes. He was shirtless, too. The covers came low on his waist, several inches past his belly button. Her gaze moved up and then down his bare torso. There was a lot of skin to appreciate.

Then she studied his face. So peaceful in his slumber. His eyelashes rested against his cheeks. His hair rested against his brow in a ruffled mess, as if he’d run his fingers through it too many times. Her heart spasmed and then she felt herself moving closer, into the room, into the bed, into his … head.

No!
She stopped herself at the last moment.

She’d vowed to get over Derek. To move past him. Unfortunately, her subconscious hadn’t gotten that message. Then, as if gravity, or maybe her own will, started pulling her backward, she let herself sail through the clouds, back through the universe of sleep.

She woke up with a start, as if she’d been slammed back into her body. Catching her breath, she reached for her pillow and hugged it tightly to her chest. The vision of Derek asleep filled her head.
No! No! Don’t think about Derek. Think about Lucas.

Lucas, who’d danced with her in the moonlight. Lucas, who’d kissed her so sweetly. Lucas, whose blood raced every time she was with him.

Closing her eyes, she lost herself again in the oblivion of sleep. The sweet nothingness of slumber. The next thing she knew, she stood in a room of clouds, in front of Lucas. Thoughts of Red hit, but Lucas spoke. “It’s me. Feel me. I’m hot.” He reached out and took her hand in his. His touch sent warmth through her palm and her heart.

She remembered telling herself to think about Lucas, and she wondered if she was learning to control her dreamscapes. A little thrill ran through her as the sensation of accomplishment filled her chest. With so many unknowns and out-of-control issues happening, it felt great to think she’d mastered something.

He smiled up at her with his sleepy blue eyes. “I was beginning to think you would never visit me in my dreams again.”

Suddenly, the clouds evaporated like unwanted fog and they were back outside where they’d danced earlier that evening. The moon and stars cast lovely shadows around them. Only this time, the night played the music. Crickets and an occasional bird harmonized with the sound of a light breeze stirring through the leaves of shrubbery and the rustle of live oak trees.

“Shall we dance?” He held out his hand.

She started to place her hand in his palm when she realized he didn’t have on a shirt. Instead of jeans, he had on a long, loose-fitting pair of boxers. The kind boys slept in—if they didn’t sleep nude. The kind the movie stars often wore in those sexy photos.

She swallowed a nervous tickle. He looked really good. Warm and so touchable. And almost naked. As if nothing more than a flick of his thumb could leave him completely bare.

“Uh…” She waved her hand up and down. “Shouldn’t you get dressed?”

He grinned and then laughed outright—something he didn’t do often. “This is your dream, Kylie. You dressed me for the occasion. You’re in charge of what I wear. So, the better question is … is this how you want me to be dressed?”

She felt her face heat up and wished she could deny it, but Holiday had told her as much during their discussions of dreamscaping. She controlled everything, from the person she visited to what happened during her visit. So what did it mean that she had visited Derek first?

And why had she wanted Lucas half-dressed?

Okay, that was a stupid question.

“Oh…” She let her voice fade away, not really sure what else to say. That’s when she noticed what she was wearing. The same short pajama set she’d worn to bed—they consisted of a pale blue body-hugging tank top and a pair of tight dark blue boy shorts. A bathing suit would have shown more skin, but she still felt slightly naked.

She wasn’t sure how she could change the clothes they were wearing, but she closed her eyes and concentrated for a couple of seconds. When she opened her eyes again, she saw she was back in her black party dress—much more appropriate. Lucas wore jeans and a white T-shirt with a big yellow smiley face on it.

He looked down at his shirt and then back up at her with a funny frown. “Seriously? This is what you chose?”

“I’m new at this,” she said, defending herself. “But it’s not that bad.”

“A smiley face?” He chuckled again. “Just remind me to never let you buy me clothes.”

She laughed, and then he held out his hand again. “Are we here to dance?”

This time, she took it and let him pull her against him.

When his warm arms went around her and his chest melted against hers, it reminded her how it felt to slip into a warm bed on a cold night. She sighed at how comforting it felt to be held by him again. When she rested her cheek on his chest, his hand moved around her waist and his almost electric pulse fluttered against her lower back. That flutter seemed to move inside her and caused her blood to pulse.

She recalled the question she needed to ask him and lifted her head and rested her chin against his chest. He looked down and met her gaze. His blue eyes were hooded with something that looked like passion, and she wondered if her own eyes showed the same emotion.

“Can I ask you something?”

“It’s your dream,” he whispered. “We can do
anything
you want.” There was an emphasis on the word
anything
that caused a ripple of nervousness to move through her.

Anything.

Taking a deep breath, she stopped dancing and slid her hand up his chest to where she felt his heart pumping.