Page 23

“Julian!” Layla yells, trying to get away, shifting against me.

“Caleb,” Caleb and I both correct at the same moment and I’m behind her now, holding her arms, steadying her, forcing her to stay with us.

“Layla, listen to me,” Caleb insists. “Julian’s my twin. I am not with him. I do not want what he wants. Let yourself feel that in me.”

She stops fighting me, studying him for long seconds before she repeats, “Caleb.”

“Yes,” Caleb confirms. “Someone attacked your mind. They’re going to attack you again. You have the ability to shield yourself. I need you to focus with me, and let me teach you how.”

“I can’t.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have any idea how to do that.”

“You do,” Caleb insists again. “As hard as this will feel right now, you need to deep breathe and relax. Let it happen.” He eyes me with a keen glance, before returning his attention to Layla. “Do you trust Jensen?”

“I…” She pauses, then tries again, “I…”

“Good,” Caleb approves, as if she admitted trust. “Let him help you. Let him be your anchor. Find him in your mind first, and when you start to lose focus, you go back to him.”

I’ve never been anyone’s anchor and never thought I wanted to be. Nor am I sure I’m made of the right stuff for such a task. But I’d do just about anything for Layla. I ease around to face her, leaving room for Caleb beside me, and I take her hand. “I’m all yours, sweetheart,” I tease. “Take me when you’re ready.”

She laughs. It doesn’t matter that there are tears welling in her eyes. That sound is like honey on a hot sunny day. Sticky sweet in all the right ways.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she challenges, her voice hoarse, but not without a playful twang.

“I would,” I say, shifting my weight to one knee. “So do it.”

Caleb reaches out and presses his palms to both our forearms. “Close your eyes.”

To my shock, warmth spreads up my arm, energy almost like electricity, moving through me into Layla…or maybe through her into me. “Find his mind, Layla,” Caleb orders.

Seconds tick by. That warm energy flows through me, getting hotter, more pronounced, until Layla’s mind is there. I can feel Layla in my head.

I wouldn’t be able to explain that feeling to anyone if I had to; I don’t understand it myself. But it rocks my world, the intimacy of her inside my head. For just a moment, the idea that she might read my past, know my weaknesses, almost makes me jerk away. Caleb’s grip on my arm tightens, as if he knows what I’m feeling, what I’m about to do, and he’s stopping me.

Then, suddenly, someone else is there, in my head—no, in Layla’s head. She gasps at the malevolent touch. In my mind’s eyes, I see a boy—young, strong, evil. Then a flash of myself cutting open Layla’s arm. Pain wrenches through me as I feel what Layla felt when I cut her shoulder.

“Find Jensen in your mind, Layla,” Caleb snaps sharply. “Find that anchor, and center yourself in that place. Then fight back. Seal out the pain. Block the intruder. This is your mind. Not his. Get angry. Fight!”

“Fight,” I whisper out loud, or maybe it’s in my mind, in hers. I don’t know exactly, but I feel Layla shaking. I’m shaking with her. That energy that drew me closer to her is pushing me away. I can almost feel the pressure on my chest like a hand.

“Don’t let him win, Jensen,” Caleb commands. “Be her anchor. Reach for her mind.”

Anchor. I’m supposed to be her anchor. I tighten my grip on Layla’s hands as Caleb has on my arm. “Layla,” I say. “I’m here.”

Her fingers curl around mine, and I can hear her breathing rasping out faster…shallower. Long moments pass. She presses hard against my mind, pulls me toward her, and wraps me inside out with her presence. The pain fades in a sudden rush of awareness.

“He’s gone,” Layla whispers, her shoulders slumping. “He’s gone! I did it!”

The energy I felt spiking along her nerve endings fades instantly. I let out a sigh of relief, and it’s all I can do not to pull her into my arms. Have I ever felt such protectiveness for a woman? For anyone? Her grip on my hand tightens, her eyes meeting mine, awareness between us.

There’s something as intimate as sex in that connection we shared. Something beyond physical contact, a sense of knowing each other on a level no other person could. It’s remarkable. On some level I know her fears, her joys, her needs. And, I think, with a hard swallow, she knows mine. She knows things I’ve never shared with anyone.

“Can you feel your shield in place, Layla?” Caleb asks. “Protecting your mind?”

“Yes,” she confirms, obviously struggling to pull her gaze from me to Caleb, but once she does, she adds, “I feel it.”

“Keep it in place.” His voice is a whip. “Practice releasing that shield and then pulling it back into place. Use Jensen as that anchor if you need to, especially when you go to sleep. You have to feel that shield before you allow yourself to rest.”

Sleep. Bed. Me with Layla. I mentally shake away that image. “If she lets down the shield, can’t her attacker come back after her again?”