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He felt her shoulders heave. Alarmed, he turned her around. Tears were streaking down her face. “Lorna?”
She wasn’t sobbing, but her lips were trembling. “I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at her face. “I know this is silly. It’s just—no one has ever wanted me before.”
“I doubt that. Probably you just didn’t notice them wanting you. I wanted you the minute I saw you.”
“Not that kind of wanting.” Another tear leaked down. “The other kind, the staying-around kind.”
“I love you,” he said gently, mentally cursing the bitch who had given birth to her for not nurturing the sense of security that every child should have, the knowledge that, no matter what, someone loved her and wanted her.
“I know. I believe you.” She gulped. “I sort of figured it out when you deliberately wrecked your Jaguar to protect me.”
“I knew I could buy another car,” he said simply.
“That’s when I knew that you’d ruined me, that I wouldn’t be able to leave unless you threw me out. I kept hoping it was just old-fashioned lust I was feeling, but I knew better, and it scared me to death.” She gave a shaky laugh, despite the slow roll of yet another tear. “In just two days, you’d ruined me.”
He rubbed the side of his nose. “We hadn’t had much time together, but it was quality time.”
“Quality!” She gaped at him, mouth open. Indignation dried her tears. “You manhandled me, dragged me into a fire, tore open my head and smashed my brain flat, tore off my clothes and kept me a prisoner!”
“I didn’t say it was good quality. You have a way with words, you know that? ‘Tore open your head,’ my ass.”
“You don’t like it when I call it ‘brain-rape,’” she said sourly. “And I think I have a better grasp of how it felt than you do.”
“I guess you do, at that. When you voluntarily link with someone, it doesn’t—”
“Good God.” She looked horrified. “Some of you actually do that willingly?”
“I told you, it doesn’t hurt when it’s done right. If someone needs to boost their power, they find someone else who is willing to link. Every so often Gideon and I go home to Sanctuary, and we link with Mercy to perform a protection spell over the homeplace. Doing it right takes time, but it doesn’t hurt. Will you answer the—”
“I hope you have some kind of law against doing it without permission.”
“Uh—no.”
She looked horrified. “You mean you Raintree people can just go around breaking into people’s heads, and nobody does anything about it?”
He was beginning to feel frustrated. Would the woman never answer his question? “I didn’t say that. Very few of us are strong enough to overpower someone else’s brain unless they cooperate.”
“And you’re one of those few,” she said sarcastically. “Right. Lucky me.”
“Specifically, only the royal family. Which I’ve asked you to join, I’d like to point out, if you’ll answer the damn question!”
She smiled, and it was like a ray of sunshine breaking across her lively, mobile face. “Of course I will. Did you really doubt it?”
“I never know which way you’ll jump. I thought you might love me, because you stayed. Then, last night—” He flicked a finger over her chin. “Not telling me to wear a condom was a dead giveaway.”
She stared at him, a peculiar expression stealing over her face.
He straightened, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?” Just that quickly she looked sick, as if she were going to throw up.
She rubbed her arms, frowning. “I’m cold. It’s that same—” She broke off, her eyes widening with horror, and before he could react she threw herself bodily at him, catching him unprepared for the impact of her weight. He caught her, staggering back, then lurching to the side as he tried to catch his balance and failed. They fell to the floor of the balcony in a tangle of arms, legs and bathrobe as the French door behind him shattered. Hard on the explosion of glass came a sharp, flat retort that echoed through the mountains.
Rifle fire.
Dante wrapped his arms around Lorna, got his feet under him and lunged through the shattered door just as another shot spatted into the side of the house where they had been. Then he rolled with her, getting her away from the wall, before finally lunging to his feet and dragging her out into the hall. “Stay down!” he yelled at her when she tried to stand, pushing her flat again.
His mind was racing. The fire. The gang shooting when he and Lorna so conveniently happened to be boxed in the kill zone. Now someone was shooting at him again. These weren’t a series of accidents; they were all related. The fire marshal hadn’t found any evidence of arson, which meant—
A Fire-Master didn’t need accelerants to start a fire, or to keep it going. Someone, or several someones, had been feeding the fire; that was why he hadn’t been able to extinguish it. If he hadn’t used mind control for the first time just minutes before trying to control the fire and hadn’t known how it would affect him, if he hadn’t suspected Lorna might be Ansara, he would have figured it out right away.
