Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,97

soul.”

“Lucky isn’t like that.”

Siri sadly shook her head. “They are all like that. Like vampires sucking out our life’s essence. Has he talked of how he was robbed, killed before his time? How you are fated?” Siri didn’t wait for Gemma’s answer, not that Gemma could answer with the lump lodged in her throat.

“I tried to warn you, Gemma. I should have done more to steer you away. It’s apparent that you’ve slept with him. But how many times have you laid with him?”

Heat rushed into her face. Never had they talked of sex. As open to experiences that Siri seemed, sex was a subject never to be discussed. She’d been a contradiction growing up, this free-spirit in every sense except one. Gemma was finally getting an idea of why.

“Once,” Gemma admitted. “Last night.”

“Where?”

Gemma dropped her eyes to the Mosaic rug beneath her. The intricate design of purple, black and blue with shots of gold swirled into a mess of color. “He called it Limbo.”

Siri sucked in her breath. “Oh, dear God.” Her hands clenched Gemma’s. “How did you get there?”

Gemma swallowed. She couldn’t tell Siri the pills she’d given her had sent her on a round trip ticket to the one place her mother seemed to fear most. “I don’t know for sure.”

“How long were you there?”

“Most of the night. Why?” It was her turn to ask some questions. A few answers would be a welcome change of pace.

“The more you share, the longer you astral project, the harder it’s going to be to fully return. If at all.” Siri pondered for a few minutes, the pupils of her eyes almost totally black. “We can knit back together your aura, given enough time and no more exposure to your Dreamweaver.”

What was she, a sweater? And if this could be done, how did they “knit” Siri back together?

“I’m lost, Gemini.” Siri answered her unasked question. “There are no threads to lace me back together. I played too long in the astral plane, lost too much of myself to those worlds.”

Worlds?

“Your father tried, bless his heart, but the threads of my soul had already been stolen.” She hopped to her feet and went to the desk, sliding drawer after drawer open until she pulled out a long silver chain with a ruby crystal hanging from it.

Gemma had a feeling she knew where this was going.

“I should have given this to you before. Where is my mind?” Siri shook her head as though to clear it. “It will help ground you. Your first chakra is the root, here.” She motioned to her groin. “I want you to wear this and imagine that it’s a grounding cord running from your spine to the base of your tailbone deep into the earth. It will help you draw energy up through the earth and keep you from astral projecting.” She handed the crystal to Gemma. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“I can’t take this. You should wear it.”

Siri held up her hand where a ruby winked on her ring finger. “I’ve always worn this. Your father gave me this ring when we hand-fasted. It does the same and symbolizes who my anchor is. Or was.” She gave Gemma a bittersweet smile.

Gemma took the necklace and slipped it over her neck, trying to keep the one Tern gave her hidden in the wool of her sweater. The stone lay heavy between her breasts, clinking with Tern’s. “Who was he?” She didn’t need to specify that she wasn’t asking about her father.

“That’s it, I can no longer remember. You see, Gemini, they play on all your desires and leave you none of them by the time they are finished with you.”

What should she do?

Thoughts swirled much like the snow flurries the Chinook winds were stirring. Gemma mulled them over on the drive home from her mother’s.

Last night with Lucky had been...everything. He’d done just what her mother had said. Delivered on all her desires. He knew how to touch, kiss, press, retreat until she was nothing but a mass of mindless sexual need. Never had she experienced anything like it. Her heart was no longer hers.

Neither was her body.

She couldn’t deny that she loved him. But had he weaved a spell to feed on her soul as her mother seemed to claim? And how was it that mother and daughter had ended up seduced by Dreamweavers?

There was too much to think about, and all of it fell under the umbrella of crazy. She was glad she hadn’t called