pulsating under the strength of Cordelia’s psychic attack. His aunt was a powerful telepath—and determined. She would not give up until Finley let her in—a moment that very well might come too late for either of them. She wouldn’t give up because she thought Finley was a threat to him, and despite being cocky about her abilities, Aunt Cordelia would give her life to protect him. As much as he loved her for it, it was bloody inconvenient at the moment.
Fortunately, mediums, spiritualists and telepaths like his aunt operated within the Aether. He could see and sense them in the Aether—like the ghosts they sought. Only, they pulsed with life, while ghosts did not.
But ghosts weren’t what he needed to think about right now, and he ignored those who “tugged” at his sleeve in this strange world behind the world.
Griffin turned his attention to the connection between the two women, fixating on the stream of undulating power between his aunt and Finley. It bathed them both in an iridescent light, covering them, joining them. He reached out, concentrating on the Aetheric stream. His free arm went around Finley as he tried to bend the energy to his will. Cordelia’s power didn’t want to let go, and if it was forced, his aunt would be struck by Finley’s. There was only one other solution.
His heart skipped a beat—just one—before he recaptured his calm. If he lost control now there was no telling what the Aether would do to him. Once, it had sucked him in and kept him for a full day. It had taken him three to recover from the experience. And left him with several white hairs, which he’d promptly plucked from his head. That was when he’d learned there was a price to pay for being able to touch the Aether.
He moved the chair so he could kneel beside Finley and wrap both arms around her. She was warm against his chest, trembling as her mind fought against Cordelia’s intrusion. His concentration deepened as he drew the energy pushing against her—and emanating from her—into himself. Slowly, he took control of the Aether, pulling it away from Finley to focus instead on him. Once he had it, all he had to do was hold it. It tried to dance away from him but he held fast. The energy whirled around him, filling him. It was so much.
When Cordelia’s mind seemed to realize the connection between it and Finley had been broken, it stopped pushing. Like an elastic band pulled so taut it snapped, the energy flew into him, hitting him with a force that sent both him and Finley to the floor.
Griffin barely managed to catch the girl, still bombarded by Aetheric energy. With his guard now so lowered, the Aether rushed at him. Spirits—that’s how the strange beings here had always seemed to him—crowded around him, a million voices talking at once. Some were crying, others shouting—some were just whispers.
The energy filled him, like a crashing tide. Cordelia and Finley had exchanged so much energy that it was in constant motion. He had drained the power, but without direction it blew around inside him with hurricane force, trapped in one body rather than cycling between two. To the Aetheric plane he was a doorway, not just a mere window. And it wanted out.
He struggled to his feet, barely aware of the two females lying unconscious on the floor. He had to get out of the house.
French doors at the back of the room led out into the garden and he ran toward them. Power arced from his hands as he reached for the handle, sending the doors flying open without a touch.
He leaped down the shallow stone steps to the garden, the frantic pounding inside him pushing him to run at full speed across the freshly cut grass. He stumbled but kept running, his vision beginning to blur. He could feel his scalp starting to stretch under the pressure.
The Aether was tearing him apart.
There was a pool in the garden—picturesque with statues and perfectly groomed topiaries surrounding it. That was his destination. Just another forty feet—water would fix this.
He almost stumbled again. He was running out of time. His skull felt as though it was about to crack.
Almost there.
His feet ate up the distance. He could see the edge of the pool now, blurred and multiplied. Colors danced before his eyes.
As his boots hit the stone edge, Griffin launched himself. He flew through the air, falling now. God,