"What else?" I asked.

"Humans can't see them, but we think a lot of other-worlders can. They happen more frequently when the sun approaches the maximum apex of its cycle. Now, you tell me something. What's this have to do with anything?"

"I experienced one."

"And?" he prompted.

Leaning back in my seat, I propped my feet on the dash. "And I watched an alien disappear in the midst of it."

"Disappear?" Michael frowned. "Until a few weeks ago, I'd never heard of anyone mastering molecular transfer."

"I don't think that's what happened."

"Because-" he prompted.

"Because of what was happening around him. Violent winds. High-pitched screams. It wasn't just molecular transfer. What if solar flares aren't what we think they are? What if they happen when aliens open portals?"

"Then why can'twe open one? Why can't you?" Michael's frown deepened. "Maybe you missed the guy. Maybe-"

"No," I interjected. "I looked for him, for his tracks. He didn't simply run or hide, Michael. He vanished."

"So you think...what?"

"Remember what EenLi said about the portals not always being open?"

"Yes, I remember."

"That means they are opened and closed. They could be opened and closed through solar flares. Because of solar flares. Cause the solar flares.Something. "

"Possibilities, yes, but they raise the question of whyyou have never vanished during one. Over the years, you've been in the middle of several."

True. My hands curled into fists. I was so close to the truth. I knew it. But so close wasn't what I needed. "There has to be a reason, a catalyst that sucks someone through. When is the next flare due, do you know?"

"I'll check on it."

I rubbed my forehead. "I wish my parents were alive. I could ask them how we came to this world."

Michael stiffened, just as he always did when I mentioned my biological parents. I immediately regretted my wistfulness. I suspected when I spoke of them, Michael felt I was somehow dissatisfied with him. I wasn't. Michael had worked hard to raise me. Very hard. He hadn't hired nannies or shuffled me off on other people. No, he'd kept me near him, seen to my every need and want. I loved him all the more for it.

I hurried to change the subject. "Could the other-worlders be using some sort of homing device?"

"Again, it's a possibility," he said. "I'll do a little research on solar flares and keep you posted on what I find."

"Thank you."

He patted my hand. "I hope you'll go to your fitting when we get home," he said. "That seamstress, what's her name, Celeste?"

I shrugged. I didn't know, either.

"She nearly cut out my heart with her needle and thread when I told her you would be gone for an entire day."

I laughed. "Give her a raise. I like her style."

We reached the house a few minutes later. I shifted to command the door to open, but Michael caught my wrist in his hand. His features tightened. "Eden," he began. "You know I love you, right?"

My stomach instantly clenched. "What's wrong?" I asked, my concern making the words sharper than I'd intended. He told me he loved me all the time, but there was something in his voice this time-something deep and filled with pain.

"Nothing," he said, turning away. "Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to remind you how I feel about you, that's all."

"Michael-"

He emerged from the car without another word to me, leaving me mystified.

Chapter.

11.

Still reeling from Michael's words, I grabbed my bag and tugged Agent Luc from the car. We quickly stormed the house, leaving the heat of the afternoon behind us, along with the trees and birds and colorful flowers that encompa.s.sed the home. I had every intention of hunting my father down and demanding an explanation. I didn't buy his "I just like to remind you" line. He liked to remind me, sure, but never with such stark pain in his eyes.

Before I found him, however, the seamstress-Celeste-found me.

Agent Luc plopped protectively at my feet as Celeste bounded down the stairs, needle and thread in hand. "Where have you been?" she scolded. "I have eleven dresses and six pantsuits to finish, and yet you abandon me at the most pivotal part of my work."

"You don't need me here to finish." Frowning, I hoisted the weight of my bag over my shoulder. "You have my measurements."

Exasperation flittered over her pretty features, and she tossed her hands in the air. "Fine. You want the clothes to slip from your shoulders, tear when you run, and reveal your precious weapons, that's fine with me. I will sew another's name in the garments so no one knows they are my creation."

"Great idea," I said and turned toward the study where I knew Michael had gone. The doors were closed, most likely locked.

Celeste screeched, the high-pitched sound echoing off the walls. "Go to your room and try on those clothes, Eden Black. Now!"

I spun and faced her. I opened my mouth to offer her a stinging retort, but noticed how her chest heaved, how her eyes gleamed. She was as pa.s.sionate about her work as I was about mine. I respected that.

"What are you waiting for?" she prompted. "An engraved invitation from the Rakan king? Go."

"This isn't a good time."

She pushed a breath from her pursed lips, and her shoulders drooped slightly. "There is never a good time with you."

I cast one last glance toward the study door, then reluctantly leapt up the stairs with Agent Luc close to my heels. "Next time someone talks to me like that, you attack. Understand?"

She whimpered.

I rolled my eyes. Useless canine. Thankfully, the pinching and poking of my fitting only lasted an hour, and Celeste quite happily went on her way.

While Agent Luc slept on the bed, I allowed myself a long, lingering shower, letting the steamy water wash away the trials of the last few days. Afterward, I brushed my hair and changed into comfortable lounge pants and a shirt, then strode into Michael's office. He was absent, but two women were cleaning and dusting. I fought a wave of disappointment.

"Come back later," I told the women.

They nodded and hurried out. I reallydid need my own place, I realized. Somewhere private and all my own. Unlike Michael, I'd do my own d.a.m.n laundry and cleaning. I didn't like how freely he admitted his staff. Yes, he took precautions against theft and spying, but was that ever enough?

Alone, I logged onto the computer with a spoken "Eden F. Black." I e-mailed Colin Foley, a quantum physics instructor I'd once dated, asking for information on solar flares and potential transportational properties. He might know nothing; he might know something. We'd ended our two-year relationship amicably, so I didn't doubt he'd return my message. I stressed the importance of a speedy reply-which I hoped to receive before I left for New Dallas.

As I stared at the screen, willing him to replynow, my eyes began to burn and water. I yawned. I'd been up the last two days and needed sleep. Pushing out a breath, I shut down the computer and left the comforting familiarity of the office.

I trudged up the stairs into my room and flopped onto the bed beside Agent Luc. Hopefully taking an hour or so to rest and center my energy would grant me a measure of peace and sanity.

I closed my eyes and commanded every limb, cell, and organ to relax. Slowly my mind smoothed, beginning its gradual slide into calmness and tranquillity. In gentle increments, my chaotic thought patterns coalesced into a focused whole. The pulse of my heartbeat harmonized with the steady stream of my mind.

Just when I was congratulating myself on a job well done, an image of Lucius appeared, upsetting my equanimity. My heartbeat sped up and thumped eagerly; my blood heated. I bit my bottom lip and mentally shoved his picture out of my mind.

It slid right back to center, taunting me.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted to my side. The dog opened her eyes, checking her surroundings. When she realized all was well, she closed her eyes again and continued slumbering peacefully-taking up half the bed. If only I could find such peace. Lucius, I decided in the next instant, was a disease. A stinking, festering disease that rotted my common sense and might very well be the death of me. I needed some sort of antidote.

The battle to cast out the haunting presence of his image was in full force when my phone erupted in a series of beeps.

I uttered a low growl and picked up the cell unit from the side table, anchoring the main piece to my ear. "Yes."

"Miss me?" A rough voice crackled over the other end.

"I miss you about as much as I miss the copper bullet I had to dig out of my stomach."

Lucius laughed, the sound husky and rich as it washed over me. Neither of us commented on the fact that we didn't have to state our names, that we'd only known each other a short time but already recognized each other's voices.

"I love it when you play hard-to-get. Tell me how things are going," he said with barely a breath.

"On schedule."

"What's this I hear about solar flares?"

My eyes narrowed, and I glared at the far wall. "When did you talk to Michael?"

"Answer me first."

I did, and my speech was followed by a long silence.

"We need to investigate this," he finally said. "Michael's doing some research, but I think we need to do some on our own. The more the merrier, right?" He paused. "There's got to be something to this flare s.h.i.t. You did good."

To be validated by someone as stern and unbending as Lucius was intoxicating. "Thank you," I said. I tried to keep the elation out of my voice.

I must have failed because he said, "You cryin' tears of joy over there?"

My cheeks heated. "Shut the h.e.l.l up."

"Don't bite my head off." He laughed.

"Which one?" I muttered.

"Either." Another pause reigned before he blew out a breath. "I like you more every time I talk to you, you know that, cookie?"

I faked a southern drawl (quite well, I might add). "Is that why you're calling me, Agent Luscious? So you can like me more?"

"Don't call me that," he snapped. "I had a spare minute and thought I'd check on you."

"Didn't Michael tell you how I was doing?"

"I wanted to hear it from you, all right?"

"All right," I said, and let the subject drop. I didn't admit that I was glad he'd called, that I'd wanted to hear from him. "Let's finish our conversation about the solar flares, and you telling me what a good job I did."

He snorted. "Just look into them. We can compare notes when you get here."

My eyebrows winged up as a tide of antic.i.p.ation hit me. "I bet I'll have more information than you."

He chuckled huskily. "My G.o.d," he said.

"What?"

"Did you hear yourself? I'll have more information than you," he mimicked. "I doubt I've ever heard a more obvious challenge. You have got to be the most compet.i.tive woman in the entire world."

"Now that's hardly a fair statement. You haven't met every woman in the world."

"Doesn't matter. I accept the challenge. We'll just see who has more information."

I grinned, invigorated. "So, how are things with you?"

"Parker sympathizes with my obsession for you and plans to help me win you. He's throwing a party and made sure your new boss received an invitation."

I knew that, I almost said, but thankfully stopped myself. He had no idea I'd listened and watched his interaction with Jonathan Parker, and I needed to keep it that way. "What exactly do you plan to do to win me?"

"Let's keep that a surprise so your reaction is real. I wouldn't worry except that your acting sucks."

My grip on the unit box tightened, and I lost my grin. "I can act."

He didn't comment.

I heaved a sigh. Fine. "What's my apartment like?" I gritted out.

He offered no denial about the fact that he'd sneaked inside. "Looks good. s.p.a.cious. Well guarded. Expensive. You'll have no trouble fitting in. And in case you were wondering, your bed is big enough for two people."

"That's good to know. I'm sure Agent Luc will be glad we can both fit."