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and the muscular god shimmered before her eyes.
    “Go away,” she shouted, pulling the covers over her head.
    Look at me.
    The voice was just as commanding as it had been earlier.
    As if she’d lost all free will, Mia lowered the covers and looked at him. He was back in the stretch boxers but the impressive bulge at his fly showed that he was again fully aroused. She felt a gush of fluid in her pussy and squeezed her thighs together.
    I want to fuck you.
    “Go away,” she repeated, but this time in a whisper.
    Let me see you. All of you.
    Her hands moved as if they had a mind of their own, tossing the covers away and pulling up her sleep shirt until she was naked from the waist down.
    You have a gorgeous pussy. Next time I’m going to eat you until you scream in pleasure.
    What? What? But how was that possible with someone who wasn’t even real?
    She knew she was imagining it, but a whispery breeze stole over her as if his fingers were actually touching her. All her senses were in an acute state of awareness, so the ghostly touch aroused her as if the man had been real.
    No!
    She shouted it in her head and squeezed her legs together again.
    He smiled, a slow, sensuous expression that promised unbelievable pleasure. Then, just as before, he was gone.
    Mia turned over and buried her face in the pillow, willing herself to sleep. But the sleep she fell into was far from restful. Her dreams were invaded by ugly rocks chasing her through the city, a mechanized voice repeating over and over, “It’s all your fault.” And like a hologram above them, the erotic god of her visions.

Chapter Three
    Fridays were usually busy at the museum and this one was no exception. Three separate tours came through in the morning and, while the activities of a docent weren’t really part of her job description, Mia was usually happy to pitch in when needed. She loved describing the exhibits and relating the history of the artists. To her it was like discussing old friends. But today it frustrated her, because it meant the morning was shot. It was noon before she could steal time to access the facility’s main computer and log into Lexis-Nexis, the all-knowing database.
    Her search yielded more information on the key people at Carpenter Techtronics and a hint at the type of robotics they developed. Many of the articles she found were too technical for her to understand but she was sure her friend could help her decode them. She printed out everything she found and tapped the edges of the paper to align them. She picked them up to slide them into the large envelope with her stash from the previous night but the moment her fingers gripped the pages, the picture of the rock zapped her brain. It flickered before her eyes, dancing across the printing on the page, fading in and out. She tried to hang onto the image but, as always, it disappeared before she had enough time to study it.
    This time, however, something else was added. An unexpected feeling of dread sweeping over her, almost of panic and a strange voice drifting in the air, whispering,
    “Someone’s going to be killed.”
    Mia looked around to make sure no one was in the room with her. No, the room was empty. She was alone. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard a voice in her head, sending her a cryptic message, but she wondered if her senses had gotten screwed up by the visions of that man . She didn’t know what else to call him. So what was someone trying to tell her now? Who would be killed? And who was the mysterious “someone”?
    She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blotted the perspiration on her face. Uncapping the bottle of water she always kept handy, she drank deeply, trying to steady herself. She was smart enough and knowledgeable enough from her prior experiences, to know what they key message was now. Someone was probably going to steal something from Carpenter Techtronics and someone else would be killed when it happened. But who? And what kind of