Pleasures of the Night(4)
Author: Sylvia Day

"We must send more Guardians to interact with her so that we may prove you correct, but she will not let us in. If we cannot gain entry, we will have to assume the worst and destroy her."

Beginning to pace, Aidan clasped his hands at the small of his back and tried to find a way to argue reason against their unfounded paranoia. "What can I do to convince you?"

"Go to her again and urge her to open the door to us."

As much as he longed to go, he dreaded it. Already this last week he’d been unable to stop thinking about her. Was she well?

She was thinking about him…

A soft shiver coursed the length of his frame. He’d been in her mind, seen who she was on every level. He knew her as well as she knew herself, and he’d liked what he saw and craved more time in her company.

The conflicting desires to be with her and to avoid her goaded him with equal strength. Like a banquet of desserts set before a hungry man—although he knew an attachment to Lyssa would satisfy, it wasn’t good for him and he would only end up hungrier. The turmoil he was experiencing proved that.

"If you will not go, Cross, you will leave us with no choice."

The threat hung heavy in the air. The request to revisit a Dreamer was not unheard of, but it was very rare and it had never been asked of an Elite Warrior before. He steeled his resolve. He could manage to hold himself aloof, just as he’d done forever. "Of course I’ll go-"

"You will be assigned to her until she opens to other

Guardians."

He couldn’t hide his surprise. "But I’m needed elsewhere."

"Yes, your leadership will be missed," the voice conceded. "However, this woman is unique in her ability to bar both Nightmare and Guardian with that door. We must know why she does this, and how. Perhaps it is a skill we can replicate in other Dreamers. Imagine the benefits if they could defend themselves."

"That’s not all." He stilled mid-stride and faced them. "If goodwill was your aim, you would assign a Healer or Nurturer to coax her out."

Instead they sent a man known for his aloofness and ability to kill with precision.

There was silence. Then, "If she is the Key, you are best equipped to eliminate her."

His blood ran cold. To think that stupid legend would lead to the death of a woman as sweet and pure as Lyssa Bates made his stomach roil. Every day that passed, Aidan hated his calling more and more. The killing of those who were ruined by madness or inherent evil like the Nightmares was becoming hard enough. If they were now to kill innocents, he didn’t know how he would bear it.

"You stayed with her, Cross. You could have withdrawn, allowed another to comfort her. Yon have only yourself to blame for this mission."

He held his open palms out to them. "What’s happened to us that we, the Guardians of the innocents, would now kill simply because we don’t understand?"

"The Key must be found and destroyed," the Elders intoned in unison.

"Forget the damn Key!" he yelled, his voice booming through the domed space, causing the Elders to recoil as one body. "You, who are so wise, can’t see the truth even though it’s staring you in the face. There is no Key! It’s a dream. A myth. A delusion."

He pointed an accusing finger at them. "You want to live on false hope instead of facing the facts. You want to believe that there is some miraculous thing out there that will absolve you of the guilt you feel in bringing the Nightmares here. But we have nothing more than our will to fight, and we are wasting energy searching for what doesn’t exist. The war will never be over! Ever. We can only con-tinue to save whom we can. What’ll we become if good is killed along with evil for a lie?

"Unless," his voice lowered ominously, "there’s something you’re not telling us. Some proof."

The silence that followed his outburst was deafening, but he didn’t take it back. He had only spoken the obvious.

Finally, someone spoke. "You did not tell us of your crisis of faith, Captain Cross," came the far too calm rejoinder. "But all things come in good time, and this mission is even more suitable for you now that we are aware of your feelings."

Locking himself away sounded better and better to him, too. "Fine. I’ll go to her now. And I’ll continue to go to her until you tell me otherwise."

He hoped they would come to their collective senses and realize how fanatic their beliefs had become. In the meantime, he would defend Lyssa from both herself and the Order that was sworn to protect her.

Aidan spun on his heel and left in an angry swirl of black robes.

He didn’t see the Elders’ collective smile.

And no one saw the one Elder who didn’t smile at all.

"What happened to you? You looked so good last weekend."

Lyssa rolled over and pressed her face into the back cushions of her couch. "That one night of rest was a fluke."

Her mother sat on the floor and stroked her hair. "Your whole life you’ve had trouble sleeping. First it was growing pains, then nightmares, then fevers."

Shivering in memory of ice water baths, Lyssa tucked her sage green chenille throw closer around her. Jelly Bean hissed at her mom from his customary spot on the armrest.

"That animal is possessed," her mother muttered. "He doesn’t like anyone."

"I’m not getting rid of him. He’s the only guy who puts up with me being like this."

Cathy sighed. "I wish I knew what to do, baby."

"Yeah, me, too. I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"You need to have more tests run."

"God, no." Lyssa moaned. "I’m done with being a human pincushion, Mom. No more."

"You can’t keep living like this!"

"This is living?" Lyssa muttered. "If it is, I would rather be dead."

"Lyssa Ann Bates, if you ever say such a thing again, I’ll… I’ll…" Growling, her mother stood, apparently unable to think of a threat direr than death. "I’m going to the store to get the ingredients for homemade chicken noodle soup. And you’re going to eat all of it, young lady. Every drop."

Lyssa groaned, and squeezed her eyes shut. "Mom, just go away. Let me sleep."

"I’ll be back. I’m not giving up, and you’re not either."

She distantly heard her mom gather up keys, then close the front door, leaving her in blissful silence. She sighed wearily and drifted into sleep…

And was jarred awake by pounding on the door.

"What do you want?" she cried in exasperation, rolling over in the pitch black darkness. "Go away!"

"Lyssa?"

She paused, the soft brogue sweeping gently through the vast space despite the door between them. Her heart leaped. "Aidan?"

"Can I come in?"

Sitting up, she wrinkled her nose and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. "Where have you been?"

"Working." There was a long silence, and then softly: "I’ve been worried about you."

"Charmer," she huffed, hiding the pleasure his words gave her. Using her mind, she opened the door with a sigh and wished for the thousandth time that she could see the man who went with that voice. She listened to him step inside, relishing the confident, steady stride that revealed so much about him and made her feel so safe.

"You can close the door now," he said, so she did.

His steps slowed, and she could sense him searching for her. "It’s still dark in here."

"You noticed that, did ya?"

As the footsteps drew closer, a warm, deep chuckle filled the air. "We’ll work on it."

"I hope you’ve got a while," she said dryly. "I’ve been working on it for years."

"I’ve got all the time you need."

She tried to ignore the little thrill that coursed through her, and ended up laughing at herself. She had a crush on a voice.

And a hard body. And strong arms. And patient tenderness. God, she was lonely. She missed having a social life and a boyfriend.

"Are you going to talk to me so I can find you?"

Her throat was tight with regret and bitterness, so she swallowed hard before speaking. "I’m losing it, Aidan. I’m getting sappy: The lamest shit makes me cry."

He moved closer, his stride never faltering or hesitating despite his inability to see. "I admire people who allow themselves to feel."

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"You can’t admire a woman who sits in the dark," she argued, "because she’s too stupid to turn the lights on."

Aidan crouched down beside her. "I can. And I do."

"How do you find me like that?" She shivered at his nearness and the intimate tone of his voice. Even without sight, she knew his gaze was hot with sensual intent.

"Your scent."

A moment later his face was in her hair as he breathed deeply. Lyssa froze as goose bumps spread in a wave across her skin. A tiny flutter tickled her belly.

He settled back with her tucked up against him. "You open and close the door by yourself."

Lyssa considered that with a frown.

"So you can control your surroundings if you wish to," he pointed out with an odd note in his .voice.

She frowned. Wow, I did do that, without hardly thinking about it. "Why can’t I wish up a cold beer, then? Or a vacation?"

"And a hot guy?" There was a delicious rumble of laughter in his voice.

I’ve got the hot guy. She bit her lower lip at the thought. Aidan’s voice dripped sensual promise; his hard body and long, powerful legs boasted his stamina. She reached up and touched his hair, finding it short-cropped, thick, and silky. With the darkness robbing her ability to see, lustful images flooded her mind, thoughts of her fingers in that rich hair while his mouth worked magic between her legs.

He hissed through his teeth, and she realized how her altered position pressed her br**sts to his chest. Her n**ples were hard in response to her thoughts, and she knew he could feel them. Pulling away quickly, Lyssa scrambled to put distance between them.

"Sorry," she muttered, beginning to pace in the darkness she knew so well.

Aidan was silent for a long time, then he cleared his throat and said, "So let’s try to figure out how you control the door."

She continued to stride back and forth restlessly, certain she had never felt as awkward in her miserable life.

"Lyssa?" He heaved out his breath. "You know what I think?"

"What?" That I’m a sex-starved nutcase?

"I think you’re too keyed up to focus on dreaming."

"Don’t you mean ‘hard up’?" She walked away from temptation, her bare feet padding softly across the warm floor. For the first time in a very long time, she wished she were alone, which made her grumpy along with frustrated.

"You can dream just fine when you’re focused," he called after her.

Snorting, she shook her head. "Say it," she grumbled under her breath. "I need to get laid."

She gasped as strong arms caught her about the waist and held her tight to a rock-hard chest. Against the curve of her buttocks she felt his arousal, a hot and substantial presence that burned through her sweats to her skin. Her brain stopped working, unable to process the fact that he might want her, too.

"I’ll do more than say it, Hot Stuff," he rumbled in her ear.

Then he spun her to face him and took her mouth with breath-stealing hunger, before lowering her down onto golden sand…

* * *

Chapter 2

As sunlight flooded his vision, Aidan blinked and stared down at the woman in his arms. His heart stopped, every cell in his body arrested by the flowing golden tresses that tumbled across the sand.

"What…?" She gasped, lovely dark eyes widened in surprise as she looked around. "Where are we?"

A soft tropical breeze ruffled his hair, and reggae played in the background, but his eyes never left her face. She was confused, her short nails digging into the skin of his forearms, and he couldn’t form one coherent word to reassure her.

Lyssa Bates was stunningly beautiful, her features both patrician and sensual. Her mouth full and red, kissable. Her eyes tip-tilted seductively, revealing both intelligence and innocence. Why had she pictured herself as worn and tired-looking?

Because that’s the way she felt.

"Oh my god," she breathed, her fingertips touching his face reverently. "You’re gorgeous."

And then they were plunged into darkness. The music fell silent and the fragrant sea breeze disappeared, leaving only the two of them intertwined, their hearts racing next to each other.

"What happened?" she cried plaintively.

Aidan was immobilized in shock. He had desired her scent, the feel of her body, the blunt way she spoke… Regardless of her facial appearance, he’d wanted to take her beneath him and f**k her senseless. Sex as a distraction had always worked for him, and from her response to his embrace, he’d known it would work for her, too.

Then he saw her. And now he wanted something more.

"’tbu got scared," he managed hoarsely. "Lost the dream."

As he struggled with the implications, she resumed caressing his face, learning his features by touch as a sculptor would. He had no idea what she’d seen in the light. Her dream would make him into whatever she desired most. For the first time he resented that, wishing the effect he had on her was genuine and the face she admired so much was his own.

"Aidan?" Her sweet voice was low, tentative. Lonely.

Just as he was.

He rolled, pulling her over him, his arms dropping to the ground. His head fell back and his eyes closed, the weight of his dilemma crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe. An eternity of seducing had given him enough insight to be certain—something fragile had taken root in the brief moment their eyes had met.

It needed to be crushed, and Lyssa forgotten.

"Yes?" His voice was gruff, and he felt the confusion it caused ripple through her. He should let her go, move her off him.

But he couldn’t do it.

Then she lowered her mouth to his, her softly fragrant hair surrounding him, encasing them together, until all he was cognizant of was her and how much he wanted her. Her lips touched his, a brief kiss, a gentle pressing. He groaned in painful awareness. Emboldened, her tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip before she sucked on it with a rhythmic pull that made his c*ck swell and ache. Lyssa set her hands on either side of his head, lifting slightly to brush her br**sts back and forth across his chest.