Heat of the Night Read Free Page A

that he still didn't quite grasp the whole concept of the

Twilight. Aidan had badgered their teacher at the Elite Academy with endless questions about where they'd come from and where they now were. The simplest explanation Connor had heard was that he should think of the Twilight like an apple. Abbreviated space is the hole bored through the center by a worm, or a "wormhole." Instead of coming out the other side though, the Elders found a way to suspend the Guardians inside. They called that pocket the Twilight. Connor called it confusing.
    "Wager!" he roared, as he passed through one of the arched doorways and found the lieutenant engrossed at a console.
    The younger man jumped, then glared. "You scared the crap out of me!"
    "Sorry."
    "No, you're not."
    Connor grinned. "No. I'm not. I had my share of scares today. It's your turn."
    Shaking his head, Wager pushed to his feet and stretched his tall, wiry frame. "It's good to see you smiling." He crossed his arms and stood with widespread legs. He was a handsome lad, with an appeal the female Guardians described as "bad boy."
    Women. They loved trouble.
    "There's not a whole hell of a lot to smile about. Some freak of nature attacked me today, my best friend has run off with the Key, and I need to get laid."
    Wager threw his head back and laughed. "I bet the ladies are missing you, too. I've heard poems are written about your stamina and on Girls' Night Out they compare notes."
    "No way."
    "Yes, way. Morgan calls you the golden god with the golden rod.'"
    Connor felt his face heat and ran a self-conscious hand through his slightly too-long blond hair. "You're full of shit. She wouldn't say that to you."
    Black brows rose. "Morgan?"
    A mental image of the dark-eyed slender Player Guardian entered Connor's thoughts. His lips curved ruefully. "Yeah, I suppose she might."
    "First Cross takes off, now you're in exile… I bet there's more than a few broken hearts."
    "You're a popular guy yourself."
    "I have my charms," the lieutenant drawled.
    "Sometimes when I'm waiting for Cross to connect to the Twilight, I look over the rise at the Dreamers' slipstreams and seriously think about hopping into one. If only for a half hour or so."
    Wager's merriment faded into the intensity that made him a damn good warrior. "How is Captain Cross's stream? Is it coming in clearer yet?"
    "No." Connor scratched the back of his neck. "It's still murky. I'm guessing that has something to do with the fact that his slipstream connects to that barren plain instead of in the Valley."
    For most Dreamers, their subconscious connected to the Twilight in the Valley of Dreams. They touched the lives of Guardians through wide golden beams that rose from the valley floor and pierced the misty sky until they could no longer be seen. The varying streams of subconscious thoughts spread as far as the eye could see.
    "Actually, I think that's a manifestation of the problem, not the cause." At Connor's raised brow, Wager explained. "Because we are physiologically different from humans, I suspect our brain waves function on another wavelength entirely. That's what causes Cross's slipstream to connect to the Twilight in a different place and to come across with a degraded intensity."
    When Aidan entered the dream state, he came to them in a blue stream. While the other slipstreams where clear enough to look through—almost like looking through a thin waterfall—Aidan came across
snowy
, like a television station with bad reception.
    "Okay." Connor heaved out his breath. "That puts a new spin on things."
    "Sure does."
    "Corporal Trent said you had some news for me?"
    "Yes." Wager rolled his shoulders back as if to relieve strain.
    Connor's hackles rose. "Lemme guess. It's not good."
    "Using information gleaned from the data chips I loaded in the Temple, I found a reference to 'HB-9.'"
    "That thing in the Temple was branded with 'HB-12.'"
    "I saw that." The lieutenant's lips pursed grimly. "Unfortunately, the file