Lily pulled her car to the side of the road and cut the engine. Except for the wind and the distant echo of the waves crashing against the cliffs, it was silent. Mouth tight, she closed her eyes, focusing all of her clairvoyance on the psychic thread she’d been following the last few miles.
Her senses were spread as thin and taut as trip wire in all directions, and the hair on her arms rose as her body tensed. Looking down the deserted stretch of rural highway, she took note of her position, and where she was in conjunction to the thread pulsing in the wind, and decided to go on foot.
“Showtime,” she whispered, getting out of the car.
“Why are you parking so far from the perimeter?” Terry asked, materializing behind her.
Lily whirled into a defensive stance. “Will you please stop doing that? It’s starting to creep me out!” she hissed through her teeth, embarrassed at being caught unaware.
“Some psychic! Don’t you think it would be wiser to park a little closer in case you need a quick getaway? You can’t just dematerialize like me, you know.”
“Shh, I know what I’m doing so just hush up, okay? Don’t distract me anymore. If you’re going to be here, then hang around and be quiet. Float to the top of a tree or something. Just stay out of my way.”
Terry hmmphed, but didn’t say another word. She knew it was best to leave Lily alone, at least for now.
Quietly making her way across the road, Lily trudged lightly through the scrub on the shoulder, and stopped inside the woods to check her weapons.
With a .45 caliber pistol shoved into the waistband of her leather jeans, and a 9mm semi-automatic at the small of her back, the feel of cold steel sent thrills shooting across her belly. The same eager thrill she always got before a hunt.
A crossbow was slung low across her back, as well, and a silver-plated bowie knife and sharpened stakes were tucked firmly into her boot. No matter what kind of supe crossed her path tonight, she was ready.
Lily glanced at the sky. Its quiet blackness reminded her of the weekend hunting trips she and Terry took as teens with Terry’s dad. He had trained them well—regardless of how many times Terry’s mom had balked at the idea, muttering how a girl’s weapon of choice should be her charm and not a gun or a bow. Somehow, Lily knew tonight would be one exception to that rule.
It was dark and cold, but the refracted moonlight coming through the clouds gave her enough light. The sky had been ominous all day, but the threat of early snow held, covering the ground with just half inch of fresh powder. The air carried a lonesome quality, and the forest was still, almost too still.
Squatting down, she sent her senses out again, tracking the exact direction of the thread before heading deeper into the woods. She opened herself entirely, not wanting any more surprises tonight.
The creature’s trace pulsed like a neon sign in her mind, and she smirked. It was almost too easy. She moved quickly, following the thrum through the dense forest and navigating trees and brush like a familiar obstacle course.
As she rounded a wide thicket, she caught a flicker on the edge of her mind. The feel of the new trace was different, and its pulse loosely cloaked. She needed to investigate, but out here she was too exposed. Ahead, low brambles twisted into a rough, barren hedge, and she crouched beside it for cover.
The trace’s cadence was human, but not, and its feel was unquestionably male. He was headed southeast toward the cliffs, the same direction as her. Lily exhaled, sending a quiet stream of expletives into the wind. She’d be damned before allowing anyone or anything to get in her way tonight.
With a cleansing breath, she focused her senses and grabbed hold of the new pulse. She needed calm and absolute stealth before merging her mind with his. A wave of vertigo hit as she made contact, overwhelming her senses with the sensation of flight.
Lightness enveloped her, yet she remained aware of her body’s position in the scrub. Nausea crept up the back of her throat, and she grimaced. The last thing she needed was motion sickness when she was stock still. Perhaps this was some version of astral projection, but whatever the feeling, she needed to be the one in the driver’s seat.
Lily scooped up a small handful of fresh snow and wet her tongue. She swallowed her queasiness and adjusted her focus, attuning herself to the peaks and valleys of the man’s flight. Whoever this guy was, he was too intent on his target to distinguish her presence. But what was he hunting?
She soared along with him above the tree line and watched as he canvased the ground below. His distraction made it easy for her to advance, and she crept further into his mind, allowing herself to see through his eyes.
The outline of reflected body heat from potential prey radiated in shades of red and blue, but it was clear his interest was elsewhere.
Either he doesn’t know I’m here, or he does and just doesn’t consider me a threat. Maybe he’s just out for a joy ride, and I’m imagining all this. No. Supes are never out for no good reason. He’s hunting something…
A disgusted sound left her mouth and she sat back on her heels, chewing on her lower lip. This was too much of a coincidence for her not to be sure. She dug her fingers into the earth on both sides of her legs to ground herself, before dropping deeper into his psyche. Her stomach clenched with the effort, her mind spinning from the unaccustomed depth of her probe. Within seconds, a snarl reverberated up her spine, and she shook under the weight of its menace. If he didn’t know she was there before, he certainly knew it now.
Without warning, he reached out with his own mind and seized control of their merge. His mental grip was like iron, but effortless. Panic threatened as she struggled against his hold, gulping down air while trying to stay calm enough to focus. What the hell was he?
His mind probed hers looking for the same answers Lily wanted from him. He stripped away layer after layer of memory and thought, and she screamed at the violated feel.
Self-preservation kicked in, and she slammed doors shut all over her mind. There was no way she would allow some stranger to mind-rape her, even if she was the one guilty of trespassing first. She had to keep him out or risk him learning why she was in the woods tonight.
The man exuded raw strength, and as the sarcastic timbre of the words nice try echoed through her mind, she caught a glimpse of a slow, seductive and decidedly male grin.
Heat poured through her body, pooling between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat, and she went weak, pitching forward to land on her hands in the cold snow. She sucked in a breath and tried to sit back, but another wave of desire hit her point blank.
Almost of their own volition, her hands trailed the length of her thighs, grazing her sex through her leather pants. The friction nearly sent her over the edge. As she struggled to maintain control of her body, she heard his deep chuckle. Whatever he was, the son of a bitch was enjoying himself at her expense.
With a snarl of her own, Lily centered her strength and shoved against his hold, managing to slam down a wall, shutting him out.
Drained, she slumped forward into the snow. Stupid. If she lost the creature’s threat because she allowed herself to veer off task, she’d kill the first thing that crossed her path—starting with that fly boy supe.
On rubbery legs, she crawled forward and grabbed onto a raised tree root, pushing herself up. She brushed the snow from her pants, careful to keep her mind guarded. Steeling herself, Lily walled off any errant thoughts or emotions and sent her senses out again, this time focusing solely on the creature. She’d have time later to reconcile herself with what just happened. She had a score to settle, first.