“What does it feel like?I just want to make sure I know it when I feel it.”
“Here.Feel me.”He links our hands together.“Relax, and let me in.Don’t close yourself off to me.”
There’s so much of him I’d like to feel and remember this time.
I take a deep breath.Another.A sense of calm awareness descends over me.I don’t feel anything at first.I open my mouth to tell him the exact moment a burst of energy rushes through me.It feels like concentrated beams of light streaming into my brain.
It’shim.He’s like this big, warm, comfortable, fuzzy blanket and tastes like melted caramel.I remain still and silent, waiting as awareness fills me.I sense his exhaustion, his dedication to his people, and his unconditional faith in me.
It’s the last part that rocks my world on its axis.
No one but my parents and besties have ever really believed in me.Hell, most days I struggle to believe in myself.
“I think I’ve got it.I can feel you.”
“I know you do.I heartily enjoy our connection, mate.You feel like home.”
Oh god!I might not remember him, or much of our interaction over the past eighteen hours, but he definitely knows how to make a girl feel special.
His absolute belief fills me with confidence.
“Okay, here goes.”I stare at the raccoons and focus on what I feel.My head spins.Am I doing something wrong?How am I supposed to make a connection with the cute little trash pandas.
Then I feel their energy, a bright, shimmery thread connecting me to the raccoons.I tug on the thread.Playful, tumbly, cuddly warmth suffuses the connection.
Awe, they’re so cute.I just love them.The three raccoons stop what they’re doing and turn my way with curious expressions, like they’re waiting for instructions.
“This is trippy.”I whisper under my breath and think, ‘Thanks for coming to the party, but it’s time for you to go home now.’
One by one, the raccoons and their full, chonky bellies file off the coffee table and couch onto the hardwood floor.They march toward the back door in single file.The last raccoon swipes one final chunk of wedding cake and shoves it into its mouth on its way out the door.
“That’s it, mate.You’re doing beautifully.Now, do the creature with the pointy headdress.”
“It’s a deer with antlers, not a headdress.”He acts like he’s never seen a deer before.
“I don’t care what it’s called, only that it unsettles you to have it in our dwelling.My goal is to alleviate your panic so we can prepare to go to my ship.”
Ship?As in spaceship?
I really did cross into another dimension.Rygar watches me with those intense blue eyes as I search my mind for the thread connecting me to the buck.The shimmery silver energy seems to glow inside my head.When I close my eyes, I can see the light swirling and moving on the backs of my closed eyelids.If I wasn’t in a house with a deer, I’d think it was my imagination.Breathing deep, I ask the buck to gently remove himself from the rug by the fireplace.I thank him for coming to my party and send him a vision of running through the forest and finding his herd.It’s time he went home to his family.
The buck climbs to its hooves, nods its head and dips one of his front legs, almost like he’s bowing to a queen.Rygar reaches out and grabs my bra from its antler.Seconds later, the deer parades down the hall and out the back door.
Okay.Two down, one to go.I concentrate on the bear in the bathtub upstairs.His energy is more powerful and aggressive, more bronze than silver.I bathe my mind in the bronze haze and try to send a message to the bear.I envision him tearing the elastic of the tutu so it will drop away.The door handles are levers, so I concentrate on the image of him using his paw to open the door.
A loud thumping sound reaches us and I know the bear is moving.Heavy footsteps fill the cabin as he lumbers down the stairs toward us.The bear sways with every step and I wonder if that’s his natural gait or if he still has alcohol churning through his system.I send him the image of drinking at a nearby stream.
Do bears get hangovers?
He reaches the main floor, burps loudly, then does its waddle walk down the hall and out the door.
Once the bear is gone, I turn to the mountain lion.The big cat lifts her head, taking a break from gorging on ham.Her bright amber eyes stare with affection.The huge cat slow-blinks at me like we’re best friends.
Before I can panic, she rises and walks toward me.Trying not to hyperventilate, I tell myself to just keep breathing.I gasp when the cat rubs her giant, furry head against my hand.She’s purring, her energy feels hot, like getting too close to a candle’s flame.“She wants me to pet her.”
Rygar grins.“Smart cat.”
My fingers tremble as I gently scratch behind her ears.I latch onto our connection, the thread a golden pink that sparkles when I close my eyes.
