stare at him as if he were indeed the monster she had expected him to be.
Her silence, and the fear she was trying to hide, made him ache deep down inside.
"Have I ever lied to you?" he asked quietly. "Have I hurt you in any way?"
"I don't know what to believe."
"Believe that I care for you, that I would never do anything to hurt you."
Lainey closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had a horrible headache all of a sudden.
"Lainey..."
She opened her eyes, startled to find him sitting close beside her. She hadn't heard him move, hadn't felt the sofa shift beneath his weight when he moved. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You know what."
"It's a gift, like reading your mind."
"You can't turn invisible, too, can you?"
"No."
She eyed him warily as he lifted one hand toward her.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Lainey." His voice was low and quiet, his luminous eyes filled with a silent plea. "Won't you please trust me?"
She couldn't help tensing as he reached toward her. Slowly, gently, he pressed his fingertips against her forehead. In seconds, her headache was gone.
"You're full of tricks, aren't you?" she murmured, unable to keep a faint note of accusation out of her voice.
"It's not a trick. I have the ability to project heat and energy."
"Oh." She felt bereft when he took his fingertips from her brow. "What's it like where you come from?"
"It's a pretty place, very peaceful. There are no wars. Our cities and our oceans are clean and beautiful. There is very little misconduct, as the penalties are severe and punishment is carried out immediately."
Unlike theUnited States , she thought, where criminals who had been sentenced to death lived in comfort on death row.
"Does your planet look like Earth?"
"In a way. We have trees and flowers and grass, though they're different in color and form from yours. Our sky is more pink than blue."
"And do you have movies and TV?"
"Yes, but on a more advanced scale than yours."
"And books? Do your people read for pleasure?"
Micah nodded. "But no one on Xanthia writes as well as you do. Why don't you rest now?"
Lainey nodded. She did feel tired. Tired and confused.
Before she could stand up, Micah swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. Pulling down the covers of the bed, he placed her, very gently, on the mattress, removed her shoes, then drew the blankets up to her chin.
"Go to sleep, Lainey. I'll leave tomorrow morning if that's what you want."
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She didn't want him to go, but did she want him to stay?
She watched him leave the room. A faint blue glow remained behind for a moment and then, it too, was gone.
She was in a large oval room being pursued by a little green man with four arms and two heads. He held a scalpel in one hand and a gigantic syringe in another. She ran and ran, but there was no way out, and everywhere she looked, she saw stainless steel operating tables fitted with thick leather restraints. There were people on the tables, people who screamed soundless screams as shiny silver scalpels cut into their flesh. She ran and ran, but always he was behind her, laughing maniacally.
She was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, knew it wasn't real, and yet she couldn't outrun the horror, the fear of what would happen if he caught her.
She had to wake up!
She screamed then, screamed and screamed, until her silent shrieks became reality and the sound of her panicked cries jerked her awake.
She sat up, drenched in sweat.
A moment later, Micah burst into the room. "Lainey!" He switched on the overhead light. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, squinting against the sudden brightness. "You're not blue anymore."
He shrugged. "I thought you would be more comfortable if I looked like your cover model again."
"Oh." She sensed that it pained him because she was more at ease with an illusion than with who and what he really was, but then, hadn't she always been more at ease in fantasy than reality? It was why she loved writing so much, why she was so good at it.
"Are you all right?" Micah asked quietly.
"Yes. I had a nightmare." She began to shiver. "It was awful."
"What was it about?"
"Monsters from outer space," she answered, avoiding his gaze.
"And was I in it?"
"No."
He stared down at her, feeling as if his whole life,