Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(15)

It wasn’t that she created energy, but how to explain the unexplainable? She didn’t create the energy—it found her.

It craved her. Raced to her. Dahlia had never experienced grief or rage at such an unrestrained level. That alone would have been enough of a danger to anyone close to her, but with the violence of death, with the explosion and fire, the energy was far beyond her capabilities to contain it. It was volatile. Unstable. And any moment it would explode in a fiery ball, destroying everything near her.

Dahlia stepped away from him, putting as much distance between them as she could manage while the energy raged and swirled and demanded to be used. The moment she did, the vortex of heat consumed her, burning her from the inside out, robbing her of her ability to speak, to breathe, to even function. The raw heat shimmered in the air, crackling with electricity. She wanted to cry out to him to run, to save himself. She couldn’t bear to be responsible for another death, but he just stood there looking down at her with his ice-cold eyes.

He deliberately stepped close to her, so close their skin nearly touched. “Look at me, Dahlia. Don’t be afraid of what will happen to me. Just keep looking at me.” His tone hadn’t changed. It was still as calm and as tranquil as a pool of water.

The moment he closed the distance between them, the temperature went down. The energy ceased roiling. Her lungs worked properly. She found herself staring into the black depths of his eyes. Cold eyes—cooling her skin, cooling the energy. Dahlia sucked in her breath. “Who are you?”

“Nicolas Trevane. I’m a GhostWalker, the same as you are.”

She wanted to step away from him, but she didn’t dare. He was trapping the energy, or more precisely, he was cooling the raging aftereffects of violence. She’d never been able to do it, no matter how hard she tried. She could channel it, aim it, and send it, but she couldn’t defuse it. His words caught at her, she wanted, no needed, to know more. “I’ve never heard of a GhostWalker.”

“I know you haven’t. Keep looking at me. Breathe with me. Find your center. Think of it as a pool of water. Don’t try to control it; let the water take the brunt of the energy. The waves can rage and reach higher and higher, but the walls will contain it for you. Visualize it, Dahlia.”

“How do you know me?”

“Just do this for me and then we’ll talk. They’ll come back. They know you’re here and they’re not going to go away without making a try for you. They’re pros, and they’ve got weapons that can reach us from a long distance. We need to move fast and that means you have to get rid of the energy so you’re not so sick.”

Sick wasn’t the word she would have used. The overflow of violence incapacitated her. It was only his presence that prevented a seizure and unconsciousness. She knew her body, knew the load it could take, and she was far, far over the limit.

Nicolas took her hand. She immediately felt panic-stricken and yanked it away, rubbing her tingling palm along her jeans. “Don’t touch me. People never touch me.”

“They don’t touch me either. I’m sorry, I should have warned you what I was doing.” His tone was very patient and made her feel like a desperate child. “I want you to feel the beat of my heart. We have to slow yours down. I know you have no real reason to trust me, Dahlia, but if we don’t get this under control, we’re going to have to fight our way out of here and we’re outgunned and outmanned.”

Looking down at her, into her enormous black eyes, Nicolas felt like he was falling forward into a labyrinth, a trap, somewhere deep and beautiful he’d never managed to travel in all of his wanderings. Dahlia was a surprise, and few things surprised him. There was immense power in her small body. He could feel it swirling around the two of them, feel it inside of her. Dahlia Le Blanc was all about energy.

He reached for her hand again, this time slowly, gently, letting her get used to the idea. His fingers slid over hers, almost in a caress. Her gaze locked with his. Her body reacted, shuddering, wincing. He kept eye contact, not letting her look away as he brought her palm over his heart. “We’re all part of the universe. Each of us shares energy. Slow your heart rate down. Think about it, concentrate on it.”

Dahlia swallowed hard and blinked up at him, all too aware of his muscles beneath his shirt. Aware of his heart, slow and steady. Aware of the heat of his skin. Heat was everywhere, surrounding them. Welling up inside of her like a deadly volcano. But she was also puzzled by the way he was keeping the violent energy at bay. “I’ve tried meditation, it doesn’t work for me. The energy consumes me. It gathers like a force inside of me. I attract it the way a magnet attracts things. And then I can’t contain it and people get hurt.”

“You can harness the energy though, can’t you?” Nicolas kept his voice very calm. They were running out of time. She had to get back in control so they could move fast. At least she was listening to him. It was most likely the shock and grief and the sheer surprise of finding someone who could contain the energy for her.

“Not when it’s like this. There’s too much energy, and it’s too powerful. It finds me—I don’t make it happen. It comes from an outside source. Actions. Emotions. Who even cares? I’ve studied meditation, Eastern philosophy. It can’t be controlled. It has to dissipate some way.” Why was she listening to him? Letting him touch her? She felt almost mesmerized by him. All the while the energy churned and boiled and waited, lurking like some terrible monster looking for a victim.