“Were the lights swinging?” he asked. His voice was low, the texture to it velvety rough. Not that velvet was rough, but compared to what she’d been listening to, his voice was different—like granite compared to glass. And yet, she found she liked his voice, liked the weight of his hand on hers, liked everything about his presence right beside her.
With Herculean effort, she turned her hand over so she could touch him palm to palm. “Talk to me some more,” she said. “Tell me about where I’ve been. Tell me how to go back.”
She felt his other hand on her cheek, stroking gently. She gasped at his touch, but then released the breath on a sigh. Another point of warmth. Another place on her body that remembered who and where she was. She let the weight of her head press her cheek into his caress.
“I don’t know where you’ve been,” he said. “I’ve never gone.”
“You were there.” She opened her eyes. It was easy now. “I saw you and wanted to be with you.”
He smiled, the expression so tender it nearly broke her heart. “And so you came back here. Where I am.”
“No…” she said. “Maybe.” Her eyes drifted shut again. “I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t there, but you were. What did you see?”
“It was so fast. Thirty seconds, maybe a minute.”
“You were there for nearly two hours.”
She opened her eyes again and focused on the ceiling. It was shadowed and dark, and she saw nothing. “A minute, maybe a little more.”
“Time in the divine realm flows differently. Or not at all. The texts are unclear.”
“It was so perfect.” Then she looked around. Her awareness of this place was returning. She was naked in his bed and wrapped in wet sheets. “I was in the shower. I was trying to seduce you.”
“It worked,” he said. “I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.”
She smiled. “It did work.”
“Then you ascended to the antechamber. Not quite heaven but close. We call it the Chamber of a Thousand Swinging Lanterns.”
Tracy lifted her head. “I remember the lights. The sound was love. How can sound be love?” It didn’t make sense, but she knew it was true. There was love. Here was cold and noise and loneliness. “I want to go back.”
“It is the gateway. No novice has ever been so blessed. Never before,” he emphasized. “I’ve been trying to think of why it happened—” He cut off his words, obviously stopping himself before saying something. Then she felt a swift chaste kiss on her lips. She would have deepened it, but Nathan gave her no chance. “You should rest more before moving around. Ascension takes a great deal out of a body. I will get you some of your excellent meat loaf if you think you can eat.”
Meat? She grimaced. Too heavy.
“Tea, then,” he said. “It will settle your energies without weighing too much.”
So he left her side to wait upon her. She watched him go, trying to remember what it was she was doing, what she wanted, and why she was here. Not here in his apartment, but here in the world. She had no answers and wasn’t even sure of the questions. In truth, she felt like formless potential without direction or purpose. Until he returned with her tea.
He helped her sit up, and once he touched her, all became easier. With his assistance, she unwrapped the wet sheet, opening up to the air as she settled against the headboard. Her breasts bobbed as she moved, and the room felt very cool on her bare skin, but those thoughts scattered when he pressed a steaming mug into her hands.
Tracy inhaled deeply, trying to draw the steam into her body. But what she felt most were Nathan’s hands around hers, his breath as it touched her forehead, and the sight of his large toes. She was looking down at the mug when she saw his lower half. First the long basketball shorts in Illini-orange, lean shins with well-formed calves, and then his solid feet and manly toes. Yes, manly toes. The toes were broad; the nails were blunt, and there was absolutely no hair anywhere that she could see.
She blinked, startled at what she was noticing, what she had never seen until now. She lifted her gaze to his. “Can I go back there again?”
He stiffened. She might not have noticed but she was watching him closely. “Drink.”
She did, but she never broke eye contact. In the next apartment, Nathan’s neighbor switched on his television. Tracy winced and her mind kicked into gear. She began thinking about the cost and time it would take to soundproof the wall. “It’s noisy here,” she murmured. “It was so quiet there.” She huffed in disgust. “The details are fading.”
He sat back on his heels, watching her with guarded eyes. She sipped her tea and struggled with her memory.
“Tracy, are you a virgin?”
She gaped at him, unable to understand his words. “What?”
“Have you ever had a man penetrate you? It’s the only explanation why it happened so fast, so early in your training. A virgin’s energies are stronger, more pure.”
Any residual heavenly glow faded. She became well and truly grounded here. Instead of answering, she shifted her legs off the bed. “I’m going to get dressed now.”
“You need to rest. Many tigresses remain in bed for days after ascending.”
She didn’t even dignify that with an answer. Instead, she pushed to her feet, pleased when she made it with only a tiny case of the dizzies.
He held her by the elbow to steady her, and she didn’t throw him off. She was too busy smelling the sweet warm scent of him. God, she liked his smell.
“Please, Tracy, answer the question. It’s important.”
She opened her eyes and grimaced at him. “My hymen is not intact. Happy?”
He shook his head. “A man, Tracy. Has a man ever penetrated you?”
She stared at him. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed about this, but she was. Unfortunately, there was no compromise in his tone or expression. “I’ve been Joey’s mom since I was eighteen. It’s not so odd.”
His free hand touched her face, and she was startled to realize that he trembled. “You are the rarest of the rare. Your tigress is awake, Tracy, and you are still untouched by a man. No wonder you can travel to the immortal realm.”
“You’ve touched me.” She jerked her arm out of his grip.
“Yes, and I probably should not have. I probably weakened—”
It was abruptly too much for her. This place was too confusing, too hard, and she hated it. “Stop it! Just stop it!” she screeched. “I don’t get you, Nathan. You push me away, you bring me close. You touch me and I go amazing places, and then you say we shouldn’t have.” She pressed her hands to her head. “I don’t understand any of this!”
“Calm down,” he said, his voice low enough to be soothing. “The texts say that a return from heaven is unsettling to even the most experienced tigress. She wants to return to heaven, and yet she is stuck on Earth. It tends to create anger and fury.”
She dropped her hands and glared at him. “I am angry at you. It has nothing to do with…with…that other place.” Except maybe he was right. Everything there had made sense. Everything was love. Here was confusion and separation. “I am so alone,” she whispered.
He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. His arms came around her, and she was once again enfolded in his warmth. She hated herself for closing her eyes, for leaning into his strength, but she needed it deep in her core.
“You should rest,” he murmured against her hair. She stiffened and shook her head.
“I don’t need to sleep.” She needed the world to make sense. She needed him to make sense, but that was too far a stretch. “I think I should go home.” At least there she could think. Maybe even remember.
Nathan sighed. “I will drive you. I will even remember to drive on the right side of the road.”
She nodded. She wasn’t in any condition to drive herself. With his help, she managed to dress with some semblance of her dignity. He was unfailingly kind, reverent even, and though his tender care of her was certainly nice, she wondered what had happened to her ardent lover.