Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 by Gayle Parness Page A

stairs.
    Ingrid winced, watching
him leave. Staci’s expression said it all, kind of a you are pond scum look.
A small part of her felt like pond scum. Her anger was always
getting her into trouble.
    She sighed in frustration. "I'm an
idiot." She hadn't meant for everyone to hear, but it was only
fair. She’d gone off on Mack Harbor in front of the troupe, the
nicest most reasonable Mack she’d worked with yet. And did he rage
back? No, he'd handled it with class. However, she didn't hold out
hope that she’d remain in the troupe for much longer.
    Gene took her hand in his. "Why is it
so important to you—all this experimenting with using more power?
What are you really trying to do?"
    She knew Gene would figure it out on
his own soon enough, his perceptive brain always spinning on high
cycle. She told a half-truth, hoping it would satisfy
them.
    "I want to make our lives better,
that's all. Show the world that we’re more than slaves.”
    The drive back to the house was
quieter. Alan drove while Sam, having the longest legs, rode
shotgun. Gene, Staci and Ingrid sat in the back. Diane and Dave
were driving back in the other car.
    Sam twisted around to look at her.
"I've never experienced anything like what we did this afternoon,
but I'm not sure it's for every audience. You saw Diane. However,
I'm extremely impressed by the control you exhibit when channeling
such enormous amounts of power. Your focus is extraordinary,
especially at such a young age. I understand why The Director puts
up with you."
    He didn't mean it as an insult, so she
laughed. "You're as strong as I am, Sam. That's why I chose you to
play the master vamp. It's hard to hold back when you know you can
do so much more, isn't it?"
    Staci touched her shoulder to get her
attention. "It could have gone badly. You could have hurt
Di.”
    If they lived in a different world,
and thetas had been able to have kids, Staci would've made a great
mom. “I've been practicing at higher levels for four years now,
although this afternoon was mind blowing, even for me. But I also
noticed you've been using extra power, maybe not quite as much as
me, but still over the limit, according to the rules. You manage to
mask it better than I do."
    Staci shrugged and smiled sweetly, not
denying a thing.
    "Could you teach me?" Gene had wrapped
an arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer and resting his head
on top of hers. He smelled like citrus: fresh and clean.
    Sam laughed as Ingrid poked Gene in
the ribs, saying, "Your projections shimmer with emotion. I bet all
the females in the audience weep when you die and moan with lust
when you have sex. If they're connected to your Ingrid, they
probably come screaming your name. Why do you think you have such a
huge following?"
    "I thought it was because I was so
adorable." He played with her hair, twisting it around his
finger.
    "Adorable dynamite," Staci
whispered.
    "You got all that from one rehearsal?"
Alan sounded skeptical, a typical techie.
    "This troupe is the strongest I've
seen." And hopefully they'd be getting stronger, as long as Mack
could be convinced that her theory might actually work to free
them.
    Gene and Ingrid changed clothes and
went out late that afternoon, as planned. They'd morphed into
model-types, dressed in the latest fashions, eating their sushi and
drinking their sake with enthusiasm.
    Gene flirted playfully the entire
evening, pulling out his southern accent, affectionate in a
non-pushy way. They danced almost every dance the band played, Gene
entertaining the other customers with his sense of fun. Once in a
while, he’d pull an unsuspecting female onto the floor, someone who
might never have had the nerve to dance in front of other people.
He made her look flawless; leaving the shy girl with a memory she’d
hold in her heart forever.
    Ingrid wondered if he'd make a serious
pass when they got back to the house, but true to his word, Gene
gallantly said goodnight at Ingrid's bedroom door, kissing her