Through the pain of his body and his pounding head, joy and male amusement washed over him. His little red-haired doctor did not like the idea of another woman in his life. She had blue eyes, and there were tears in them, such as you have in yours now. He touched one glittering drop with a fingertip, brought it to his mouth to taste. His body, always voraciously hungry, absorbed that bead as if absorbing her very essence.
Who was she, Jacques? Or who is she? A male like Jacques, so handsome, sensual, intense—of course he had to have a woman stashed somewhere. Shea bit her lip so hard, two drops of blood beaded up.
Jacques tried to hold on to the fragments slipping in and out of his head. He sensed that the information was of great importance to both of them. She belonged to another. He is… Pain gripped his head in a vise and squeezed hard.
Shea laced her fingers through his. “Let it go, Jacques, we don’t need it.” She smoothed the hair from his forehead. “It will come in time. Look how much you’ve already remembered.” It was shocking to her just how much of a relief it was to learn that the unknown important woman belonged to another.
If it is not some fantasy. It was half humor, half self-censure. His hand came up, caught the nape of her neck, and pulled her down so that he could kiss her soft, trembling mouth. His tongue swept the ruby droplets from her full lower lip.
“I told you to stay out of my head.” She returned his kiss gently, taking care not to jar him. “Let’s go in and make you comfortable.” It seemed harder for her to bear his pain than it was for him.
Another minute. Listen to the song of the night. The wolves call to one another in joy. Do you hear?
She did. How could she not? A distance away the pack lifted their muzzles skyward and poured out their happiness to one another. It was impossible to contain it within their bodies, and it flowed from their hearts, out their throats into the night. It was so beautiful, so pure, so much a part of their world. The notes, each different, unique to the individual animal, floated through the forest, lifted to the very heavens. She belonged here in this land. She belonged with the wolf pack, the mountains, and the night. She turned her head to look at Jacques, found him clutching his head as memories crowded in, jagged bits and pieces that teased and frustrated, that felt like piercing shards of glass.
I should remember him. Someone important. I remember the fight. His hand went once more to his throat. The vampire slashed my throat. The woman saved my life. She pretended to be hysterical, but she packed the wound with soil and her saliva as she cried over me. The vampire took her. Why can I not remember the important one?
“Stop it right now!” Shea ordered sharply as she stroked away the crimson stain on his forehead. “I’m taking you back into the house this minute.”
Shea. Her name was a magic talisman, a soothing balm to his tortured mind.
I’m here with you, Jacques. She merged with him immediately, held him close physically. It will all come in time, I promise you.
His hand brushed her throat, the raw, ragged wounds and bruises that refused to heal. Without proper blood and the rejuvenating sleep of their people, her body could not heal itself. Look at you, what I have done to you. And I cannot guard you, as I must, as is my duty. I am of little use to you.
Shea tugged at his hair, a tiny punishment. “I don’t know, Jacques, you’re more than adequate at giving orders.” She maneuvered the gurney back into the cabin, then took the opportunity to put fresh sheets on the bed before helping Jacques onto it. “You know I have to go,” she said softly.
Jacques lay very still, staying on top of the pain, drifting with it, grateful for the comfortable bed and her soothing touch. He loved the feel of her fingers caressing his hair, his forehead, stroking away his pain. I cannot allow you to go unprotected. His resolve was fading. She could tell he didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was necessary.