Mikhail mentally laced his fingers through Raven’s, even as he turned to Gregori. Do you think he will turn?
Gregori gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. I think he is dangerous either way. Only the woman can control him. She is the answer to that. If I am correct and she knows nothing of our ways, it will be difficult. She is determined he survive, but I sense she has accepted that it is inevitable that she die. She has no clear idea of what she has been committed to here.
Mikhail glanced at his brother, saw him gently, even tenderly stroke back Shea’s hair. The gesture touched his heart.
Gregori sighed. It is obvious how he feels, but he does not always know what he is doing. He is quite capable of harming her if something triggers the beast in him.
Mikhail rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. The Jacques he knew and loved was so different. His laughter came readily, and compassion always tempered his predatory nature. Jacques was so intelligent, so easy to love. Long after Jacques had lost his ability to feel his emotions, he had retained the memory of them. He had often helped the older males to recall memories of their own laughter. Who had done this to him? To be forced to sentence another brother to death… Mikhail couldn’t do it. It was time to step down, time to hand someone else the weight of responsibility for their dying race.
Mikhail felt Raven slip her arms around his neck. “Jacques is strong, love. He will find his way back to us.”
Mikhail turned her palm up, kissed the center gently. Gregori thinks Jacques turned Shea O’Halloran without her knowledge or consent. His black eyes met her blue ones, filled with guilt, tenderness. He does not think the woman has any idea of our ways.
Jacques will—
No, little one, Jacques remembers very little of anything. Hatred, rage, revenge, the woman—that is all he thinks of. We are not certain he is capable of taking care of her.
Look at him with her, Raven instructed. She repeated it aloud. “Look at him with her.”
Jacques wanted the strangers to be gone. So many males pressing close to Shea kept him on edge. He trusted none of these people, with the possible exception of the blue-eyed woman. Jacques could hardly bear to look at the one who claimed to be his brother, the one who had attacked and nearly killed Shea. Strangely enough, it hurt to look at the man. Jacques’ head seemed to want to disintegrate every time their eyes met. Memories. Fragments. Pieces of nothing.
Enough, he whispered to Shea, his words a soft command. Her tongue stroked across the wound to close it, a seduction of pure sensation.
Shea came out of the trance slowly, a sweet, coppery taste in her mouth. The terrible gnawing hunger was gone, but her body was on fire, soft and pliant, in such need. Suddenly aware of the others in the room, she burrowed closer to Jacques for protection. If they all were just gone, she could sleep, figure things out later. She could sort through all the data she had and determine just what these people were.
Fear slammed into her, her mouth went dry, and her heart began to pound in alarm. Shea could feel Jacques’ hands tightening like bonds on her arms. A hypnotic trance. Jacques had induced it. Her green eyes slowly opened to move over his face in a slow, terrified study. So why wasn’t she joyful, ecstatic, that they had found his people, his family? Why wasn’t she thrilled at the arrival of a healer?
There was something wrong here. Her only hope was to get out of the situation, leave Jacques to his family. There were now plenty of people to care for Jacques without her. The healer obviously was far more skilled than she was. Shea was shaking, embarrassed that those surrounding them could see how badly she was trembling. She was always in control. She just needed distance to regain it.
No! Jacques’ voice was much stronger now and much more frightening. You cannot leave me.