Free Echo 8 by Sharon Lynn Fisher

drop of sweat slipped from his forehead to hers as his fingers searched her throat for a pulse. She knew her heart was beating—fast, in fact—but she didn’t realize she couldn’t breathe until he bent his ear to her mouth.
    Her hand flailed out and grabbed his wrist.
    He lifted his head and looked at her. “You’re not breathing.”
    She shook her head and dug her fingers into his arm.
    His hand came to her cheek and he bent close, like he was about to kiss her. “Try to relax,” he urged.
    Relax? She was suffocating!
    He tilted her head back and stuck his fingers in her mouth, probing carefully along her tongue to her throat. He withdrew his fingers and took hold of her chin.
    â€œI need you to trust me.”
    He pinched her nose closed, and she panicked and struggled.
    â€œ Relax , Tess.” His mouth closed over hers, and his breath forced its way into her throat. The panicky feeling eased as her lungs expanded with his air.
    Ross waited, watching to see if she’d start up again on her own. But her diaphragm had seized, like someone had punched her, and it seemed in no hurry to get going again.
    â€œYou’re going to be fine,” he soothed. “I think it’ll pass if you’ll calm down. I’m not going to let you suffocate. I have more than enough air for both of us.”
    Finally some of his calm seeped into her, and she nodded. Realizing she’d knotted her hand in his shirt, she opened her fist.
    â€œGood.” He bent and breathed for her again. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift to his lips … the soft, firm feel of them against hers.
    Suddenly her chest heaved and filled on its own. She pushed him away, rolling onto her stomach, gasping and coughing. As the spasms subsided, she let her head fall against Ross’s leg.
    â€œJesus Christ , Doctor.”

 
    C OMPROMISED
----
    If you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
    â€” Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
----
    â€œY OU OKAY?” croaked Tess.
    Ross stared down at the reddish waves of hair cascading over his thigh. “Yeah.”
    But the calm he’d willed himself to feel for Tess’s sake had now evaporated. His breaths came quickly as he relived the last moments of the transfer. The way Jake had snatched at Tess through him. Jake had fed on Ross, but he hungered for Tess. Everything Jake had described that morning about how it felt to feed on her, Ross had experienced as the conduit between them. And it was much more complicated than hunger. Jake wanted her emotionally. Sexually. The impression had been so strong it had left Ross with a painful erection.
    Tess lifted her head from his leg and sat up, propping herself against the wall. Ross did the same, raising his knees to conceal the evidence.
    â€œNext time we have to do it before he’s started to fade,” said Tess. “He was too desperate.”
    Ross jerked his chin, motioning the other agent away. Swain holstered his weapon and moved off down the corridor.
    â€œI’m not doing that again,” said Ross. “And neither are you.”
    Tess met his gaze. He was pretty good at reading people— unnaturally good, a colleague had once said—but at the moment he was coming up empty.
    She rose slowly to her feet and started toward Jake’s door.
    Ross swore and yanked the Glock from its holster. “ Don’t , Doctor.”
    â€œTake it easy. I’m just checking on him.”
    Ross pushed himself to his feet and followed.
    â€œGo away, Doc,” Jake growled through the speaker.
    â€œIt’s okay, Jake,” said Tess. “You’re not feeling the same need now, are you?”
    â€œI don’t need to eat a whole carton of Espresso Chunk ice cream, but that never stops me from doing it.”
    â€œNot the same. That’s not hurting anyone but