Free Synthetic Dreams by Kim Knox Page A

knowledge of other minds. Her whole body itched for it. Was that also a part of what she was?
    Paul moved into the shadow of the trees and she followed, her boots squelching into sodden leaf litter. Rainwater dripped from bare branches and found the back of her neck. Through the silence, the sudden low whine of an engine surged up the hill. She jerked her head at the sound. More than one engine. Liam had stopped signalling.
    Paul increased his pace, the raised tension in his hand sudden and hard. “We have ten minutes.” He stopped. “And it’s here.”

    “How do you know…?” Her words trailed away. There. The same pull on her flesh as the fence, awakening something in her, crawling over the scars on her skin. It was becoming easier, more malleable. She swept her hand through the air and metal groaned, too loud, far too loud in the quiet of the night.
    The ground shifted and a hole opened up in the earth. Warm, metal-tasting air gushed up in a cloud of grey vapour. A rim of light edged the circular hole, gleaming against the rung of a narrow ladder disappearing down. She leaned forward and the tunnel dropped away about fifteen metres.
    Paul let go of her arm, glanced around and swung his body onto the ladder. “You need to follow me right now.”
    Vyn stared behind her. The bushes down the curve of the hill, the ones beyond the rippling wall in his garden, shifted, moved against the light winds. Her heart twisted, the quick burst of fear rushing heat through her flesh. Agents had found Liam and were tracking them. She doubted the security wall would hold the agents much longer than it had—unexpectedly—held them.
    “Now, Vyn.”
    Paul’s voice echoed and she jerked her attention back to the deep hole in the ground. She clambered in after him, her boots clumping against the metal rungs.
    A heavy plate clanged above her head and Vyn crushed her eyes against the sudden rush of panic that swept through her. She willed her fingers to unlock from the rungs and continued her quick scramble down the ladder.
    “How far now?” Her voice echoed in the metal-lined tunnel and the over-warm air tasted sickly in her mouth.
    “My times aren’t accurate.”
    That was helpful.
    Paul hit the floor with a dull thump. He straightened and pinched the bridge of his nose. She glanced down and winced at the two-metre drop. It would hurt. And somehow it was making her mind spin, flashing a quick pain over her skin. If the Goodman brothers hadn’t been dead three years, she’d happily kill them herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the darkness take her.
    “I’ve got you.” He stretched up his arms, hands spread to catch her. His gaze sparked and there was that look again, the dark hunger that dried her mouth and made her think about anything other than technology. “Trust me?”
    Vyn drew in a steadying breath. She didn’t reply, closing her eyes as Paul’s fingers wrapped around her ankles and began a quick, hot slide over her calves, her thighs. They were on the run, most likely dead very soon, and her stupid body only thought about him, his touch and mostly definitely Paul Cross naked.
    His fingers dug into her hips and he supported her against his body, his face pressed to her thigh. Heat bloomed low in her belly. Really, it wasn’t the time. “Let go, Vyn.”
    And that didn’t help either as her thoughts went to a warm, dark place with the promise of all of his bare skin against hers, his mouth, his breath, the slick heat of his muscles…
    Abruptly, she dropped away from the ladder and, though Paul caught her, it didn’t allow for the slow, agonising press of her body against his. He held her ribs, his thumbs a delicious tease to the underside of her breasts. “Paul…”
    His hand slipped down her ribs to play across her backside. He squeezed and she yelped, pushing against him. She couldn’t deny the hard press of his erection into her belly.
    “Later,” he murmured, and his mouth brushed hers