Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (19 page)

"I hope he never sells another ticket.
Entertaining the alphas and vamps who kill humans makes me sick to
my stomach."

"During that rehearsal with Diane, you
were way over the energy limit."

"So what. Did you think I was out of
control?"

He smiled. "Never. In fact, you were
at your most focused. Working with you was extraordinary. You're as
solid with your psycore as Mack is with his axis."

She'd started trembling a bit. Gene
noticed and draped his jacket over her shoulders. "I'm on your
team, remember? Trust me. That’s an order."

She huffed out a breath, blurting out,
"I'm going to get us out of this life. Away from living in a
troupe, away from the parties where they can beat us or rape us
because The Director gave his seal of approval."

She turned her face away, too scared
to look him in the eye. But it was too late to take it all
back.

"How?" His voice was hoarse, but he
hadn't moved, giving her a grain of courage.

"I can teach the troupe how to use
their powers in a more practical way." She faced him now. "We'll
sneak away, dump Dr. Dirt and live a free life." Johnny's name for
The Director sure fit him.

"Tell me all of it." And she did, the
same way she'd told Mack, only Gene wasn't arguing with her. He was
listening.

When she'd finished, he surprised her
again. “Show me." And just like that, he lowered his outer shields,
leaving himself more vulnerable. He twisted his body toward hers
and clutched her hand against his heart. "I need to see." He
reached out to connect to her mind the way an audience was trained
to do, only a theta knew how to keep his private inner shield still
in place, protecting his secrets.

She squeezed his hand and he grinned.
"Watch, southern boy. Watch how we can take them out."

The fantasy only lasted fifteen
seconds, but it was enough. Gene had jumped up and was backing down
the aisle before she had a chance to pull out of his
mind.

"Holy shit. Those armed soldiers
looked as real as anything I've ever seen. All of their rifles were
aimed at me. I thought I was dead meat."

She held her breath, waiting for him
to make his decision. He was leaning against the edge of a pew,
obviously still in shock, but she was still hopeful he'd see things
her way. His dark blonde hair was tousled, obscuring one of his
jade eyes, his chest taking in deep breaths to calm his
panic.

She'd been floored by the
brilliance of his mind, the connection she'd established still in
play. He’d understood instantly, almost as if the concept had been
his own, wrapping around her ideas and taking them further.
Why are we limited to a morph that changes only
the body? Why can't we add an object, perhaps a weapon? Is there a
way to open up more pathways? To form a group connection?
His mind worked through layers of schematics, the
patterns of magic with which they were gifted. But she couldn't
read his heart. His inner shield was closed to her, which meant she
had to trust that he wouldn't tell The Director.

"So many possibilities. I'm in, sugar.
We talk to Mack about this tomorrow." He'd risen to his full height
once more.

Gene would keep his word. He was like
Mack in that way. Her two men: one to love as a mate, one as a
friend, both precious and necessary to her survival.

Ingrid sunk into the pew in exquisite
relief; muscles she hadn't known were tense finally relaxing. Of
course, getting Mack to agree to work toward their escape was the
monkey wrench in the plan. "Maybe you should do the honors," she
suggested. "Mack’s not open to hearing me right now.

"He'll come around, especially now
that I'm on your team. Mack needs someone to shake him up." Amused,
he gave her the once-over and arched a brow. "Think you're up for
the job?"

She giggled and curtseyed,
using a southern accent. "Shaking up is my specialty, sir." She
remembered The Director's threats when he found out she'd been at
Mack's house and decided, in the spirit of their new
code of honesty
, to tell
Gene about it.

After listening, he tilted her head,
his hand under her chin so she'd look him in the eye, his
expression grim. “The Director's done that kind of shit
before."

"If I worry about what might happen I
won't be able to focus on the plan."

"There's an actual plan?"

"Well, not yet. But I'm
sure
you
can come
with something." She batted her eyelashes and grabbed his hand.
"C'mon. We can talk about it back at the room."

"About tonight's reboot..."

She held up a hand, her palm facing
Gene. “I have a solution."

"Why am I not surprised?" he laughed,
taking longer strides as they headed home.

When they arrived back at the house,
Alan and the actors were in the back yard drinking beer and
enjoying what was left of the barbecued ribs and corn on the cob.
Ingrid delivered her orders to Alan with a satisfied smirk. "A
young human male named Johnny will be at the gate sometime
tomorrow. Please do your best to find him work. He has a large
family to take care of."

"Now you're heading up the local
employment agency?" Diane said, puffing on a cigarette. Ingrid
frowned at her. A pack of those cost more than a guy like Johnny
made in a month. "I'd stay away from the norms if I were you. They
carry guns."

Gene took the cigarette from her mouth
and crushed it under his shoe. "We sent dinner to his house. He was
hungry, not dangerous."

"We can use another driver," Alan
suggested. "Shawn Hogan broke his leg at the Cityworks Construction
site."

Gene explained, "The Director and his
wolf allies are the owners."

"Did he fall?" Staci asked.

"No. His supervisor cracked him in the
shin with a wrench. His wife said the bone was sticking out. Won't
be on his feet for weeks."

"His boss is a mid-level wolf." Sam
explained. They were known to be particularly surly.

"They're all Alpha wannabes." Alan
added.

"Has he gotten medical attention?"
Ingrid asked.

Alan nodded. "When his wife came by I
gave her some cash to pay for whatever he needs. Told her I'd pay
him off the books while he was out of commission. He won't be
getting paid from his construction job even though it was the wolf
that put him out of action."

Ingrid smiled at Alan. "You're a man
after my own heart." She placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed
his cheek.

He looked down, blushing. "Shawn's a
hard worker."

Diane opened her mouth to make a
comment, probably at Alan's expense, but Gene tugged on a strand of
her hair. When she looked at him, his glare shut her up
fast.

Her duty done, Ingrid walked inside
the house, motioning with her head for Gene to follow. She shut the
door to her room with a soft click. "Sit on the bed."

"Giving orders now?" Instead of
sitting, he stretched out diagonally. "I know I agreed to listen to
your evil plan, but are you sure you can resist me?" His grin was
as hot as a grin can get, but it only made her laugh.

"You are such an ass." She pointed out
the window, knowing full well the arrogant act was nothing like the
real guy "Somewhere out there is a girl who'll worship the ground
you walk on."

"Please, I have thousands of those
already." She tossed a pillow at his head, but he managed to catch
it before it whacked him. "I want a girl with brains enough to see
past this." He swept his hand across his very hot body.

"She looked up at the ceiling. "Is my
room...?"

"It's safe. Alan and I check the house
for bugs every couple of days."

“Great. Now I need you to answer two
questions and we'll go from there.”

"Go where from there?" He wiggled his
eyebrows.

"Behave. Are you okay with dropping
your shields?"

He shrugged. "I did at Snug Harbor. I
suppose I could do it again, although I'd prefer not to have to
share you with a couple of fantasy soldiers."

"Both shields. The inner one
too."

"No." Gene sat up, the flirty fun
disappearing in one word. "I trust you, sugar, but no."

"I'm dropping mine."

"Sure you are." Inner shields were the
first things a theta learned to create. They protected thetas from
mental attack, and it was second nature never to let anyone else
inside.

"We won't touch each other's memories
or feelings. That's not why I need you open."

Gene crossed his arms over his chest.
"Explain."

"We're going to loop."

"Looping is forbidden." This time she
was the one rolling her eyes. "We perform all the time without
dropping our inner shields," Gene pointed out
stubbornly.

"I explained. We're
looping."

"Why is this necessary?"

"It will give me more control and
greater access to the area of the brain I’m targeting."

"Somehow that explanation doesn't
comfort me."

"We’re both gifted with a kickass
amount of psycore. By looping without barriers we should be able to
reboot without…”

"Fucking?" Gene still didn’t seem one
hundred percent onboard.

"We'll direct the extra energy to the
pleasure centers, bringing on orgasm and hence,
rebooting.

That brought a smile to his face. “And
you know where my pleasure centers are, huh baby?”

“I’ve studied the brain in
detail.”

“And all this time I thought you were
into my six-pack.” He winked, rubbing his abs. “But will we need
axis energy?”

“When ingénues reboot, axis isn’t
usually involved,” Ingrid said.

Gene grinned like a chimp.
“Yeah, but you’re talking
Radical
Reboot
, ending in
Outrageous Orgasms
plus a mind
blowing burst of
Battery
Bounce-back
!”

“I’m so not the only nut in this
room,” Ingrid giggled.

"So…?”

“Did I ever tell you I have twice as
much axis power as most actors?”

Gene’s eyes widened. “This could
freakin’ work.”

"See? I knew you'd get it."

"Oh, I get it, but it sounds dangerous
and about as much fun as having a tooth pulled." Ingrid sat beside
him on the bed, her hopes fading. "Don’t look so sad, sugar. I’m
not saying no.”

“Really?” He grinned and nodded. “This
is going to work. I promise."

He sighed, lying back on the bed.
"Tell me what you need me to do."

She took his hand, lying beside him
like two friends staring up at the stars. “When I say go, drop your
shields.”

“Go? Really? Blast off would be
better.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "It’s
go.”

“Even drop ’em...."

“Shut up, Gene. It’s go.”

A long drawn out sigh was followed by
a softly disappointed, “Okay.”

“Ready? Go.”

Without hesitation on either side, two
layers of shield fell away. Ingrid had never felt quite so
naked.

"Ow. I need those fingers," Gene
grunted.

"Sorry."

"This is too weird. Focus."

"I'm focusing. Now be quiet so I can
focus. Also don't move."

"Bossy bitch."

"Shush."

Ingrid's axis-enabled mind snaked
through Gene's, tentatively at first, marveling at the colors, the
hot spots and cool spots, the explosions of activity. As his body
obeyed the commands of his brain to lie still, his mind raged with
ideas and emotions, turning over schemes and sorting them into
patterns.

She'd never seen anything as
beautiful.

"Wow."

"Everything okay up there?"

"You're gorgeous."

"You're not too particular. It’s
probably all wet and wrinkly.”

"It's your psycore. I can see it. It's
a motherboard of activity, tiny explosions sending out orders in
dozens of colors."

"Can't wait to see yours." He swiped
his hand up her thigh, lifting her dress.

"Behave.” She slapped his hand away.
“And no touching."

"I'm tellin' Mom that you’re being
mean,” he whined.

"Shut up. You're making me
laugh."

"Good, 'cause this is so boring.
Ungnh!" Suddenly he was panting beside her. "Oh man. Whatever you
did, please do it again," he groaned, grasping his groin. “I didn’t
know I could get this hard.”

"Guess I found your
pleasure
spot
," she giggled. Now follow me
back and find mine.”

Like a puppy, Gene pushed his energy
farther into her mind than he’d ever gone before. “Holy crap. This
is something else.”