Page 62 of Border Control

I put my knife and fork on my plate and stand. “I need to take a walk, I’ll do the dishes later.”

“‘Kay,” Ellen says. Ilia slides his arm around her shoulders and she leans into him with a sigh. “Laura, I’m worried about you. Did you ever go back to the doctor about?—”

“Yes.” I put the plates in the sink, the clang loud. “Took the therapy offered. Got discharged a few years ago.”

“Right, but this case and, well, everything else going on, that’ll add up.”

I forcibly relax my shoulders and turn to face her. Pull up my mask. “Really, it’s fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Ellen studies me for a moment. Her expression softens. “Have a good night, Laura, and… just don’t work too hard.”

“It’ll be worth it,” I say instead, because she doesn’t understand what this career demands. What this inquiry needs in order for us to win. What those victims deserve.

I head out into the darkness, making a show of wandering around the barn. It really is coming together, and they’ve finished the walls and the orangery, starting to put glass panels into the eyeless windows whenever it’s dry enough to work.

I tap one with a long nail, hearing more of a tinny sound than glass, so maybe this is an alien formulation. Whatever it is, it looks the part, and the aliens’ handiwork and dedication shines in all the perfectly straight lines and exact spacing between the blocks. It would be a huge shame if the council makes Ellen pull it down. I have to stop that, too.

“Good night,” Dom says behind me, voice echoing against the empty walls.

His sudden presence doesn’t startle me, as if I knew he was there already.

“That’s a goodbye-type of greeting. A hello would be ‘Good evening,’” I tell him.

He nods solemnly. “Good evening, Law-rah,” he says, voice rough and low and lavishing all over the syllables of my name again.

I know from experience his tongue is great at lavishing and ravishing things.

The slight raise of his eyebrow shows me he heard that, or perhaps more accurately I shouted it at him.

“I hate this,” I say with a sigh.

He blinks, surprised. “I don't.”

“I suppose you grew up with it though, so you're used to all your secret thoughts being on display.”

Dom comes to stand next to me, staring past the wall he and his brothers put together with their own strong hands. “It's not quite like that. There are levels inside our minds, areas that can be private. Everyone has truths they hide, even from themselves.”

“So psychics like you can't see them?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Only if Nevare pushes.”

I let that sit for a moment. “Interesting. You said you had an idea.”

“Yes.” His intense amethyst eyes meet mine. “Last cycle, while we…” An image of me flat on my back, legs spread and wand pressed to my thirsty pussy, drops into my head. I look debauched and desperate. Hot.

Dom’s crooked smile flashes onto his face before he becomes serious again. “We became entangled shortly after. It might be related.”

“Oh, I see,” I say. “You want some more.”

“That as well. I can’t hide my desire from you.”

“Because I’m in your head?”

He frowns. “We’re not in each other's head, you’re part of the mind sync between us, an invisible connection synchronized to our brainwaves. To use it, imagine pushing what you want to say toward me.”

“I tried that, and it seemed to be too much.”

“A gentle push. Not forceful or shoving.”