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She closed her eyes and lowered every mental shield she could find.
* * *
Leto turned into her to lie on his side. He took hold of her upper arm in a gentle clasp. Mentally, he pushed at the edges of her mind and slid within, because again her shields were down.
He loved being na**d beside her and he loved being inside her mind. His body reacted, firming up. Because he was so close, the tip of his c**k touched her. She smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. Instead, her hand searched for him and found him, closing around his stalk and thumbing just the tip. Then she sighed and the frown disappeared.
He laid his head down on the bed. I love being inside your mind.
I love you being here. Her fingers played with him and his h*ps flexed, moving a little closer.
I’m not sure this is going to help, he said. He pumped a couple of times, so that his c**k moved against her palm.
Does it make me a strange woman that holding you like this eases me?
I think it makes you the perfect woman. This time he released a sigh. He could get used to this. He really could, the intimacy, the touch of Grace’s hand on him, the pleasure of being in her mind.
Leto, this time, I’m going to do something different. Just be ready.
Okay. I’ll be as careful as I can.
Sink, she sent.
Sink?
Yes. Just sink. Let yourself fall deep into my mind, and I’ll hold my mind open. I can’t explain more than that. Just try.
Leto took deep breaths. Being within another person’s mind was always a strange experience. Memories tended to fly past the intruder, thoughts as well, streaking by like wind.
Within her mind, he looked down, but what his mind’s eye could see was something vague, grayish, almost mist-like. Without trying too hard to make sense of her instructions, he drew in another deep breath and let himself fall, although she was right, sink was the better word.
It was like easing into a dark fog. He looked up and saw the memories streaking by one after another. Soon, all that color and activity disappeared. Yet his awareness of Grace increased, of who she was as a person and as a woman, even as an ascended vampire.
The only trouble was, the more he sank, the more physically aroused he became.
Grace?
But she didn’t respond. He had the feeling that she couldn’t, that holding this gateway open was requiring tremendous effort on her part.
Suddenly he felt how afraid she was of being known, of experiencing this much intimacy. She trembled beside him. All that fear, decades and centuries of fear. And damn him for how aroused he was. But being connected to her like this was a turn-on like nothing he’d experienced before. He wanted to be inside her in the same way that he was penetrating the outer regions of her soul.
He took another deep breath and tried not to stroke himself within her hand. She still held him in a firm grip, not too tight, just right.
Grace, you’re so beautiful.
From a distance, as though far below, he heard her. I’m not beautiful. I’ve done something terrible.
He couldn’t imagine what Grace would consider terrible. Telling a lie? Not being polite?
The dark gray mist began to give way to a blue glow, which made sense since she was the blue variety of obsidian flame.
Suddenly he was surrounded by all that blue light but he couldn’t exactly see anything, just light. He turned in a circle and as he stopped trying to see, as he just let the experience happen, he felt all that Grace was surrounding him. She was goodness, she was woman, she was hunger, need, fear, and quiet strength. More than anything she was afraid of the war, of death, of losing those she loved, of giving herself completely to anyone, of being known.
Yet here he was knowing her, sensing her, feeling her.
Then he felt a new sensation begin to flow, of guilt, her guilt, a terrible kind of guilt, and it beat on him in waves, so that all the blue dimmed and swirled through him in a kind of heavy dark wave. He saw how divided she was and that to some degree all the restraint she showed to the world was because of this seemingly infinite divide in her soul. She wanted to step forward, but guilt held her back, a deep feeling of unworthiness.
He could relate.
Mostly, she feared the discovery of what she was about to reveal. She trembled against him now.
Grace, let go, please. It’s okay. He pressed himself against her hip, pushing his c**k up her fist. He overlaid her br**sts with his arm and leaned in to kiss her neck. He tried to help her know that it was okay, whatever it was, it didn’t matter, would never matter to him. Every human, every vampire, no matter how noble, made mistakes.
He felt her release an agonized sigh, and what had been withheld, perhaps shielded deep in her memories, was of a child, an infant whom she had placed in the hands of another woman. Grace’s face was red and swollen from weeping.
You gave up a child.
Yes.
The blue glow turned pitch black and swirled around him. He felt her agony at this one act, which he could feel was early in her life when she was just a young woman.
But something didn’t seem right or feel right about this to Leto. There had to be more. He pressed her. There is more, I can feel it. Tell me. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change my feelings toward you or my good opinion of you.
She spoke within his mind, but the words rushed at him, too fast for him to catch each individual one. However, the context was clear. She’d been raped by death vampires when she was a young woman. They were drinking her to death when Thorne found her. He’d slaughtered them all and saved her life, but she’d become pregnant. All of it had been too much for her. She’d given the baby away. She never knew what became of the little girl. She hadn’t wanted to know.
So many pieces of Grace’s life fell into place for Leto, the choices she’d made, her incessant spiritual journey that never seemed to end. She’d been seeking absolution for the abandonment of a child; or perhaps she’d never adjusted from having been violated by what was truly evil.
He was wise enough to know that there was nothing he could say to ease her agony, her guilt, her pain. All of those dark feelings were part of her path, the one she had to travel alone. So he remained silent, his body still attached to hers, her hand still a gentle, firm touch.
No woman deserved such horror.
But how to offer comfort? What could he possibly do for her now? What did she need from him?
I am sorrier than you can possibly know that you’ve had to bear this, Grace. There are no words. I know that. Tell me what you would have me do now.
Maybe he’d said the right things because something in her seemed to relax or possibly to relent.
