Jeff practiced dreamwalking often, with Lily overseeing him to watch out for any repercussions from his earlier strokes. Jonas’s mind immediately began to build images of file cabinets and offices and documents stored away in the dream office they used. Was that possible? Anything was possible in a dream. Lily could be documenting each child’s abilities and storing the information inside a dream office where no one would have access to it—unless they knew what she was doing and sent out a dreamwalker to discover it.
Was Jeff the target of the vague threat, not Daniel or one of the other children? Abruptly, Jonas stood, adrenaline pouring through him once again.
“Tell me.” Camellia rose as well, matching his movements as if they were choregraphed dancers. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
“I don’t know yet. Just an idea. Something you said.”
“That Lily would document her son’s abilities. She wouldn’t be able to help herself.”
He stepped off the porch and paced out into the garden with the swift, silent movements of the wolf in him. Already he was blending into the very warm light gray mist in the air that was weaving in and out of the trees. Camellia paced right along beside him, making no sound either.
“You’re right about Lily,” he said. “She wouldn’t be able to help herself. She’s a born scientist. But she would want a safe place where no one would be able to find the things she knows about her son—or any other child she studies. She would need to feel her hiding place was impenetrable.”
Jonas looked down at the woman pacing beside him. She tilted her head to look up at him. Her eyes had gone pure silvery blue now. Light. The mist had nearly swallowed her, making her difficult to see, reminding him of how easy it would be to lose her in the garden. Once he lost sight of her, she would be like he was—a phantom—impossible to track.
“You have an idea of what she did.”
In the mist, her voice was muted. He wanted their connection back. He wasn’t certain how to establish it. He didn’t understand how he’d first connected with her or how that connection had been severed. Deliberately, he thought about the mycelium linking all the trees in the forest together beneath the ground, creating an organic network to communicate. He was part of that system and so was Camellia.
“I’m not certain. It sounds bizarre, but then everything GhostWalkers can do can be considered bizarre. If she did what I suspect, I can’t figure out how anyone would know.”
He paced restlessly through the mist as he spoke, needing the physical activity to drain the sudden rush of adrenaline from his system. All the while, his mind continued to work on the problem of rejoining the mycelium network. He knew if he could reestablish that connection, he would find his way back to a closer emotional link with Camellia. Already he felt the whisper of her on his nerve endings. He was that close to reestablishing their severed link.
“I won’t know if it’s bizarre if you don’t actually tell me what you’re thinking,” she pointed out.
“Have you heard of dreamwalking?”
She nodded. “I don’t really know of anyone who can do it. I mean, I’m sure it can be done, because most psychic gifts that are speculated about turn out to be something others have the talent to do, but no one I know has admitted to dreamwalking.”
“Suppose Lily knows someone who can dreamwalk, and they’re powerful enough to bring her into their dream. She could potentially hide her data in the dream.”
Jonas shared his theory while he concentrated on the organic threads that formed a vast infrastructure running beneath the ground. If those lines of communication could raise the alarm when a tree was under attack by insects or disease, the tree sending the warning to the other trees so they could arm themselves and be prepared, then he should be able to tap into that communication center. He could be a part of it. He was a part of it. That was how he knew when danger was coming his way. He opened himself up to it, welcoming the mycelium genes that Whitney had placed in his DNA, embracing them fully.
Heat blazed across his nerve endings as the connection flared to life. Alive. He felt so alive. Completely aware of her, just the way he’d been in the garden before he’d laid eyes on her. He’d known she was somewhere close to him, but he couldn’t see her. He could feel her. His body could feel her even though he wasn’t touching her.
He looked down at her and their eyes met. She was equally as aware of him. He gave her a slow smile. One that was genuine. He’d done it. He’d connected to that underground network—and to her. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
Her smile put more dark blue flecks in her eyes. She shook her head. “I’m not really beautiful, but I’m happy you think I am, but stay on track. You were worried there for a minute. And upset. Let me help you figure this out. Who were you worried about?”
She was very adept at reading him when he knew there was no expression on his face. He wanted to touch her. Frame her face with his hands, but that would lead to other things. Color swept into her cheeks, and her thick, dark lashes fluttered and covered her cat eyes for a moment.
“You have to stop, Jonas.”
“I can’t pretend I don’t think of those things. You put them in my head.”
“I’m sure most women put them in your head. You’re a very sexual man.”
She wasn’t fishing. She was stating a fact as she saw it. “I suppose some people might believe that, because I do have a very strong sex drive. Whitney loaded me with as many aggressive species as possible, very dominant and alpha, so yeah, physically, my body wants sex, but my brain is always at war.”
She frowned at up at him. For some unknown reason, he found that particular expression adorable. And one he wanted to see often.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t like inane conversation. I don’t like to pretend intimacy I don’t feel, and I don’t feel it with the women who are coming on to me.”
“I can imagine women throw themselves at you all the time.”
Again, he couldn’t detect jealousy. She was assessing the situation and stating facts as she saw them. He shrugged.
“When I want sex, I don’t have trouble getting it. I’m no saint when I need relief, but I don’t like to spend much time with someone I don’t want to be around for any other reason.”
“That makes sense. Quite a few male animals or reptiles Whitney chose for their fighting abilities or stealth, or for whatever reasons, were loners. They mated and left. You very well could have those tendencies.”
“I don’t seem to feel those same tendencies around you,” he admitted. He figured he may as well just be up front with her. “I don’t like to touch or be touched, and yet that’s all I can think about when I’m close to you.”