“Maybe. But not at me. I’ve done nothing wrong here.” Her gaze never left his, another circumstance that made him uneasy. What was she up to?
He addressed the issue head-on. “You built a dreamglide and pulled me into it while I was sleeping. Are you going to deny it?”
She stepped around the chair enough to stand beside the table. “Grant, there’s something you need to know, need to understand, but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”
When she didn’t continue, he said, “Go on.”
“I didn’t build the dreamglide. You did.”
He snorted. “Like hell I did. I’m a wolf.”
“Alpha Fergus can build them. Why not you?”
“Well for one damn thing, I’m nowhere near his level of ability or power. He’s alpha of the second largest pack in Savage and I’m still beta in one of the middling packs. This makes no sense.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have the dreamgliding gift. God knows I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. When I asked you to give me some time before our meeting, I went to Agnes and had her check me out again. You know Agnes, right? She has a locked-down shelter not far from here.”
“I know Agnes.”
She nodded, then continued. “Of course, I didn’t go into any of the details about what happened earlier today. But she’s a powerful fae that I trust implicitly. She said I haven’t got the gift. Earlier, in Mont St. Michel, I suspected the truth. I mean, everything about the dreamglide and where it was positioned, as in above my bed, spoke to the creator. If I’d been the one to build it, the craft would have hovered above your bed, not mine.”
Grant felt as though a strong gust of wind kept hitting him in the chest. He even slid his right foot back a few inches to steady himself.
He’d built the dreamglide?
Impossible.
Slowly, he crossed the room to the burgundy chair and all but fell into it. He’d been ready to arrest Natalie and haul her to the Tribunal offices in Elegance Territory.
Now this.
Natalie started to pace in front of a bunch of glass shelves but quickly stopped. She planted a hand against her forehead for a moment, then slid it to the nape of her neck and rubbed.
“What’s wrong?” he called to her.
She turned and headed the other direction so that he watched her move in profile. “I don’t know if it’s you, or us, or being in my studio, but a vision keeps wanting to come forward and I’m not having it.”
“Why not? I thought you fae-types loved having this kind of power.” He was having his own problems, but it was clear she was as well.
At that, with eyes pinched as though she was in pain, she paused in her steps and turned to face him. “This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t like knowing the future. I never have. It’s unsettling beyond words and it hurts.”
“What do you mean? A physical kind of pain?”
“Headaches, muscle cramps, sometimes nausea. It’s no picnic for me. I know plenty of fae women who love it, love the visions, love knowing the future, just as you said. They love telling everyone else the future. But for me, it’s a kind of burden I never expected to bear. Sometimes I come close to loathing it and don’t even get me started on the nightmares. Agnes says I have a different kind of gift, one that sees too much of the future, especially if the circumstances are dire. It’s hell.”
This was the last thing he’d ever expected her to admit. Because of the Fae-Wolf Wars, he’d always thought fae reveled in their power, holding that kind of information over everyone else.
He didn’t know what to think about himself or about her. He couldn’t believe that he could build dreamglides. Yet the one thing she’d said was very true: If she’d built it, she would have been above his bed not hers.
“I’d like to try an experiment,” she said. “Would you be open to it?”
He lifted his gaze to her. “What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you try to build a dreamglide now, while we’re together and while you’re completely awake? Then you’ll know for sure what’s happening here and whether or not you have this gift.”
Chapter Three
Grant ground his jaw.