He shook his head. “That’s complex. It’s going to take time.”

“I don’t have time. Nika doesn’t have time. She’s dying.”

“I know, but there’s only so much you can do. You can’t start slinging around the kind of power it’s going to take to help her. Not yet. Our connection is too new and small. You might end up hurting her.”

“Then let’s stretch it out.”

“It’s not that simple. These things take as long as they take.”

He was hiding something from her. She could feel it. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“I’m protecting you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me. I need to you protect Nika.”

He pressed his hand to her cheek and the touch felt good. Right. A hum of strength flowed into her and she wanted more. “You have to come first.”

“Then teach me how to get enough power to help her. Without her, I have nothing.”

His mouth tightened into a grim, flat line. “It’s too soon. We shouldn’t force it.”

“Screw that. I want to force it.” She couldn’t sit here in his lap anymore. She had to get up and put some distance between them before she did something she’d regret, like punch him for not cooperating.

Paul followed her up. His eyes darkened to a rich, chocolate brown, as if the idea of rushing things appealed to him. “It’s not smart. I won’t take the chance you might do yourself harm.”

“It’s not your choice. I’m going to do whatever it takes to help Nika. It doesn’t matter how dangerous it is. If I can’t save her, nothing matters. Don’t you get that?”

“I do. More than you know.”

“Then help me.”

Paul stepped forward. He pressed his hand flat against her chest, just below the luceria and above the swell of her breasts.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m giving you what you want. More power.”

“This seems like an odd way of—”

A hot jolt of energy ripped through her, streaking from where his ring hovered near her skin with only the fabric of her shirt between them. The jolt wasn’t exactly pain, but it was one hell of a close cousin.

Andra was left breathing hard, shaking. Weak. She felt like she’d just run a mile uphill after a bout of stomach flu.

“You were saying?” asked Paul with a smug grin lifting his voice.

“Was that enough?” she asked, praying it was so. “I sure don’t feel stronger.”

“Hardly. That was a mere spark. If you want to help Nika, it’s going to take a lot more than that. Plus, you’ll have to learn to channel it.”

Andra wasn’t sure how much more she could take, but she knew how much more she was going to make him give her—enough to fix Nika. “Then teach me.”

He stared into her eyes, his expression deadly serious. “Be sure, Andra.”

“I’m sure.”

Paul said, “Put your palm on the ground.”

She knelt on the ground and speared her fingers through the dry grass so she could feel the dirt. He knelt beside her and his hand pinned hers in place.

“Now, close your eyes. What do you feel?”

“Weeds. It’s warm. A little damp. There’s a rock under my finger.”

“That’s just the surface. Go deeper.”

“I can’t touch anything deeper.”

“You also can’t touch Nika’s mind, but you have to learn how to feel your way around inside it.”

Andra got his point. She didn’t tell him she’d been peeking around inside the thoughts of lost children for years. Whatever she was able to do with them didn’t work with Nika—she’d tried—so she made herself concentrate. His body was hot and hard against hers. It was easier to feel his muscular thigh brushing hers than it was to feel inside the ground, but she kept trying. She thought about what it must be like in the ground, all dark and heavy, but she sensed that she still wasn’t getting it right.

“Sorry. I’m not feeling anything.”

“That’s because you’re doing it on your own. You have to use my power. Pull it from me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll help,” said Paul. His hand cupped the nape of her neck and she felt his ring hit her necklace and stick like a magnet. He leaned down over her until she could feel his breath fan her cheek, and he placed his free hand next to hers on the ground. Her neck warmed beneath the band, and that warmth spread down her arm and into each fingertip. It wasn’t like the jolt before. It was gentler, or maybe it just felt that way because the power was draining out of her into the ground.

“Can you feel the soil just below your fingertips?”

Andra nodded. That part was easy.

“Below that is a layer of broken rock. The roots of the plants have dug their way in through tiny cracks, soaking up the water that’s trapped there each time it rains.”

Andra squeezed her eyes shut and tried to see what he described.

“About thirty feet down there’s a thick slab of stone. Old stone that’s been here since before my grandpar ents were born.” With every word, the power flowing into her seemed to increase. She could feel it expand to fill up her arm and it vibrated faster with each passing second.

“Can you see it?” he asked in a mere whisper.

“I can imagine it, but I can’t see it.”

“You’re not letting me in. My power is flowing through you, but you’re not using it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Nothing. The inadequacy is mine, but I can fix it.” He pulled in a deep breath. “Don’t fight me. It will be easier if you are accepting.”

She didn’t know what he meant until she felt a pressure inside her skull as if something were trying to bore its way in. Her instincts were to fight the invasion, but she tried to let it happen.

“Relax,” she heard him grate out in a pained tone.

She let out the breath she was holding and urged her tight muscles to loosen. He wasn’t going to hurt her. Paul would never hurt her.

The pressure in her head released suddenly and she could feel a sliver of him inside her mind. “Just let me take the wheel,” he said.

The words echoed in her head as well as in her ears. It was freaky, but nice, too. She felt surrounded. Safe.

Andra did as he asked, and let her mind wander.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered over her thoughts. “Selfless. Strong. Brave. I’m humbled.”

She had no idea what he was looking at, but she started to grow uncomfortable with the idea that he could see inside her.

“No. Don’t fight me. I’ll stop poking around, I swear.”

The presence inside her mind receded, and she could feel him keep his word. Andra relaxed again and let him steer.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She was, but she didn’t have to say the words. He was part of her and already knew.

“Here we go.”

She felt another shocking jolt, only this one was less painful, more like a wave of pressure rushing through her. Her eyes felt like they’d be pushed from her head, but there was an odd tingling in them, too. Her lids were still closed, but she saw something huge lurking in front of her.

Rock.

“I can see it,” she whispered.

“Good. Tell me what else you see.”

She wasn’t sure which way to go, so she went down farther, burrowing her way through the solid rock until she came out the bottom. “Water,” she told him. “There’s lots of water down here. And something shiny.” Or at least it would be shiny if there were any light. “How can I see without light?”

“You’re not really seeing; you’re perceiving it as if you were seeing it, though, since visual stimulus is what your mind is used to interpreting.”

“This is so cool.”

She felt him grin against her ear, felt his presence glow with warmth inside her mind. “Now, I want you to pull back until you’re near the soil again, almost at the surface, but not quite.”

Slowly, Andra did as he asked.

“Now, do you feel all the seeds in the soil?”

“Feel the seeds?” Andra poked around, trying to figure out what he meant, when she stumbled across one. Life. The potential for life inside the tiny speck was incredible. Powerful and determined, waiting patiently for the right time.

“That’s it,” he said in a low voice. “Now tell it to grow.”

“What?”

“Tell the seed to sprout. Bring water up from the ground and convince it to grow.”

“How do I talk to it?”

“Just try it. I’ll guide you.”

Andra poked around the little thing with her mind, prodding at it as if to wake it up. Nothing happened. “It’s not working.”

“That’s because you’re not using me. Draw from me the strength you need to make it listen.”

She didn’t know how to do that, either, but she felt like she should know.

A warm ring of power glowed around her neck, so she went there first. The luceria could siphon off his power. That was what he’d told her. She concentrated on that ring and imagined plugging a cord into it like she would her TV. At first, she didn’t think anything had happened, but then she felt another one of those waves wash over her.

She let out a groan and thanked God she was already on the ground. It saved her some time, since that was where she would have ended up anyway. Her head spun as if someone had given her brain a good twist, but she’d connected herself to Paul’s power and stayed that way. She could feel the huge ocean of strength deep inside him, just waiting for her.

And she wanted it. Craved it. That ocean could save Nika, and if she could have found a way, she would have drained every bit of it from him.

Problem was, she couldn’t seem to reach it, or at least not much of it.

“We’re not close enough,” he told her. “Not united the way we need to be for you to get what you want. Yet.”

Whether it was a promise or a warning, she wasn’t sure, but she felt him slip out of her mind, leaving her oddly alone again.

She opened her eyes to look at him and ask him what he meant, but she didn’t get that far. The lush, rich carpet of grass and flowers under their bodies distracted her. Even in the dark, she could see the vibrant colors of wildflowers that had not been there moments before.

“I did that?” she asked him.

“Sure did.” He pushed to his feet and put plenty of distance between them.

“So I’m ready now?” she asked. “I can help Nika?”

“Not yet, but soon.”

“How soon?”

He shrugged and his eyes slid away. “It depends.”

“On what?”

He shoved his hands through his mussed hair and turned away. It was an evasive maneuver and she knew it.

Andra grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “It depends on what, Paul?”