If they hadn’t been in the dream world, he might not have been able to hold back. Janie wanted him as badly as he craved her, but now was a bad time. A seriously bad time. Plus, the first time he took her, he wanted it to be real. She needed to make the decision facing the real him and not a dream-world mellowed-out version of the killer he’d become. Even so, one more minute, and he might have taken what she’d offered on that sandy beach. But something had alerted him to head home, and he lifted his head to the moon-filled night. Power. A different sort of power hinted on the breeze, bringing a tension that tightened his gut. No fucking way. Turning on his heel, he jogged into his quarters and through the old whorehouse, reaching Suri’s door within seconds. A wave of power slammed into him, and he gasped. Schooling his face into calm lines, he nudged open the door. Suri faced a Kurjan across a battered desk. A Kurjan with long black hair tipped with red. Kalin stood and turned to face him.
