"Guess you don't know everything, then, huh?"
"I know there's one sure way to prove what you say is correct."
"What? You mean that slaying those sgath wasn't proof enough? What about the way you feel when we touch? I bet no human man has ever made you feel like that before."
"I don't feel a thing," she lied. She couldn't remember reading anything about feeling odd at the touch of a Theronai, but that could have been the fault of her translation, too.
"No?" he challenged. "So you wouldn't mind if I touched you again, then?"
Yes, please. She'd like that very much. Not that she'd ever tell him so. This man needed no more weapons against her now that they shared a common interest. Sure, he said he was a Sentinel, but that had to be a fabrication. They were all dead.
Weren't they?
"Show me your lifemark," she demanded.
A slow, hot smile spread out over Neal's face. "If you wanted to get my shirt off, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask."
With that, he pulled the long-sleeved shirt off over his head, baring his chest.
Viviana stared and forgot to breathe.
Not only was he a living sculpture of masculine perfection; he was also telling her the truth. He was a Theronai. The giant tree spanning his chest, stretching from his left shoulder to well below his belt, was proof of that.
The detail was astounding. Even in the dim confines of the truck, she could still make out each individual leaf and twig. The bark was so lifelike, she itched to feel the texture of it under her fingers. As she watched, the tree seemed to sway with some invisible wind.
It had to be an optical illusion caused by the steady expansion of his ribs as he breathed.
Viviana reached out a hand. The compulsion to touch such an amazing work of art was uncontrollable.
Her fingers came to rest lightly on the image, and only then, when she felt the warmth of his skin, did she remember that this was no mere image on a canvas. She was touching a living, breathing man.
Beneath her fingers, she felt the branches shift, swaying toward her touch. An electric current flowed out of him, tingling her fingertips.
Neal sucked in a breath and held it. "I was right. You are one of ours."
"One of your what?"
"People. You're a Theronai. Like me."
Shock jolted Viviana's gaze up to his. He wasn't teasing. His dark blue eyes were steady on hers and there wasn't even the faintest hint of a smile anywhere to be found.
She started to pull her hand away, but he flattened his palm over her hand, holding it in place.
His warm skin was stretched tight over hard muscles. She could feel the subtle vibration of his pulse pounding in his chest.
Her breathing was too fast when she finally found the ability to speak. "I don't understand."
"You're not the first woman we've found who didn't know she was one of us. There are others like you—women fathered by men from another world. I know this all must be really confusing to you, but believe me when I tell you that you, Viviana Rowan, may be the only person on the face of this planet who can save my life."
Chapter Four
Neal could hardly believe his eyes. Only the chaotic swirl of colors in his ring proved to him that he wasn't just experiencing a bout of wishful thinking. Viviana really could save him.
If she chose to do so.
She tugged on the hand he had pinned against his chest, but Neal wasn't ready for her to stop touching him yet. He was dealing with enough without adding an avalanche of pain on top of it.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "What's wrong with you? You seem perfectly healthy to me."
"How much do you know about lifemarks?"
"I read they were magical images put on men at birth that marked them as one of the Theronai."
"That's partly true. We're born with the mark, though it's merely a seed at that time. It sprouts and grows as we do."
"How is that possible? A tattoo doesn't grow."
"It's not a tattoo. It's a living mark that's as much a part of us as freckles or a birthmark—like the ring-shaped one you have."
She sucked in a shocked breath. "How did you know about that? I know you haven't seen it."
The fact that she bore the mark of a female of his race was simply more proof he was right.
Neal smiled and leaned closer. "Where is it, sweetheart? Want to show me? I showed you mine."
She turned a lovely shade of pink and her spine straightened. "You were explaining to me exactly how I'm supposed to save you."
"See how bare my lifemark is?"
She looked down and he knew what she saw. He had only a few precious leaves left hanging on.
"The leaves are gone."
"That's right. When the last one falls, my soul starts to die. I'll become evil and twisted. Unless I kill myself first, which I'd planned to do, right up until I met you. You can save me from that fate."
To his relief, she didn't seem appalled at how much he needed her, only curious. "How?"
"There's power inside me, power I can't use. I've been collecting it since I was a boy, saving it for the one woman who could use it. You're that woman, Viviana."
She let out another indelicate snort—the only unladylike sound he'd heard her make all night.
Even her screams of fear were prim and proper. "No, I'm not."
He pressed his hand harder over hers, pushing a few sparks of energy from his chest into her skin. "If you weren't, you wouldn't feel that." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm.
More sparks fled his lips and jumped eagerly into her as if they'd been waiting to make the trip for years.
"This can't be happening."
"Why not? You said you've been studying us. You should know all about this."
"None of my books covered . . . this. It's all too much. I need some time to think."
A pang of disappointment fell over Neal, but he was tough. He could take it. Some things simply couldn't be forced. Getting a woman to commit the rest of her life to him was definitely one of those things.
"Okay. I'll back off, but not about the gadget. I need it. Torr needs it. I won't take no for an answer."
She gave him a shaky nod. "All right. It's obvious to me there are a lot of things I don't know. If you promise to take me with you and answer my questions along the way, then I'll take you to the artifact."
"It's a deal."
Neal pulled up to the home of the retired Professor Reynolds, the man who had possession of the healing device.
"All the lights are out," said Viviana. "I hate to wake him."
Her slender fingers were laced through his, and even though it made driving harder, he wasn't about to let go. He'd been pain-free for nearly an hour now, and it was enough to make him euphoric.
"I'm sure he won't mind, considering this is an emergency."
"I want to tell him about you. He loves these artifacts as much as I do. That's why I loaned the disks to him."
"Maybe some other time. I'm not sure I could handle another barrage of scholarly questions tonight. I might go hoarse."
Truth was, he hadn't minded her nonstop questions at all. The fact that she was interested in him and his people was just going to make her transition into his world that much easier.
He knew how hard it had been on Helen to leave behind her human upbringing. He hoped Viviana's background would make it easier on her.
He really did want things to be easy on her. The thought of her suffering made him want to pound on something with his bare fists. Not good for his carefully held control.
Neal kept her hand in his as he hopped out of the truck. She scooted to the edge and stopped.
Her hazel eyes were dark with worry as she stared at him for a long moment. "What am I doing?"
"Helping a man in need?"
She looked at their joined hands. "I can't stop touching you. I feel like a kid with a crush, and I don't even know you. This is not like me at all."
She was getting cold feet, letting all the confusion and questions sink into that clever head of hers. "No? What are you like?"
"Slow. Methodical. I think things through. I don't jump into trucks with strange men in the middle of the night and hold their hands."
"I'm your first, then?" he teased.
She didn't smile. "I'm scared, Neal. This whole thing scares me more than those monsters ever could. You're telling me that my whole life has been a lie. That I'm not even human."
"Nothing about your life is a lie. You just didn't know your own family tree, that's all."
"You think I'm going to save your life."
"I won't pretend it's not what I want. I don't want to die. I want to keep fighting. I honestly never thought I'd find you in time, but now that I have . . ."
"You want to keep me."
"We'll go slow," he promised. "I still have time. I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want."
"My life as I know it is over, isn't it?"
He trailed a finger over her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin. She was so pretty. So elegantly unattainable. He had no business with a woman like her, even if his luceria thought otherwise. "I prefer to think of it as the start of a new life for you—one surrounded by the people you've been reading about for years. This will be your chance to study us in a way no one else ever has: from the inside."
"You're pushing all the right buttons to gain my cooperation, aren't you?"
"Sweetheart, if I'm ever lucky enough to push your buttons, you won't wonder why I'm doing it.
You'll know."
That delightful pink flush rose up from the prim collar of her shirt, making Neal wonder just how far down her blush went. He could think of a lot better ways to be passing the night with her than showing up uninvited at some stodgy professor's house.
