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“You haven’t been…yourself since then.” Her eyes brimmed with more moisture, but she blinked it away. The only “self” she had ever known of Dominique was buried together with four years’ worth of memories in a brain that could apparently only function at night.Temporarily buried,she reminded herself. But she felt her knees quake at the possibility that he would wake up tonight like Jackson’s lab rats, and remember nothing of who and what he was. Whoshewas.
Or how to control his deadly instincts.
“You have kept me drugged ever since then?”
“No, of course not,” she said too quickly.
Dominique’s gaze shifted to Jackson, who had trailed after Cassidy together with Samantha. “So that was not a spent shot I saw you holding?”
“It was, but—”
“Something went wrong?”
Jackson swallowed visibly. “Wrong” wasn’t even a word for this.
Cassidy managed a wobbly smile. “This is not as bad as it seems,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as Dominique. Her heartache in every word, she introduced herself to the love of her life like he was a complete stranger. “And this is Jackson and his sister, Samantha,” she added to fill the silence that followed. “We are your…friends.”
Jackson cringed.
Samantha gave her a look of raw pity.
“Right,” Dominique said with a soft snort and looked down. Brinkley stood by his bare foot and must have bumped his leg. The cat blinked up at him, his tail waving in a friendly hello. There was no trace of the ferocious feline from the night before. Nor was there a hint of the vampire who leaned down to pet it. Brinkley rose on his hind legs to push into the head rub. “I think the only friend I have here is this one.”
When he straightened, his face shuttered at the sight of the three people staring at him. Cassidy no longer fought to contain her emotions. Her tears flowed unchecked, dripping off her chin. After months of trying to cajole Brinkley into tolerating him without success, this alien in Dominique’s body was welcomed without so much as a hint of feline challenge.
“Oh, you aremagnifique,madame,” Dominique scoffed. “You can weep at will? Are you an actress by profession?”
Cassidy sucked in her breath at the vicious verbal sting.
Beside her, Jackson moved.
Samantha yelped. “Jack, no!”
Too late. Jackson’s balled fist landed on Dominique’s jaw with unrestrained power, sending him reeling into a hedge.
Cassidy flinched.
Jackson clutched his hand. “Motherfucker,his bones are hard.” Dominique staggered upright. He touched his face, dabbing at a split lip, and voiced several fervent French obscenities.
“Oh, shut up,” Jackson snapped. “You’ve had that coming. For years.”
7
Three for Breakfast
ThepunchreinedDominiquein a little, or at least curbed the acid flowing off his tongue. It also surprised him enough he didn’t stop to consider how badly he was hurt—and how the injury healed in a matter of minutes. At night, the cut would have disappeared in seconds.
He remained quiet as they shepherded him back into the house, but Cassidy saw the way his body moved around Jackson now, constantly on guard. His Aikido training had him on full alert. Jackson wouldn’t be able to get away with another stunt like that.
Cassidy busied herself preparing a basic breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. She moved through the motions, opening drawers and cabinets, looking for everything in all the wrong places. Her head felt like a quicksand pit, full of random thoughts, refusing to focus.
“You are clueless, woman,” Dominique muttered as he watched her snatch the blackening bacon from a too-hot pan. He sat at the kitchen counter under Jackson’s watchful eye.
Cassidy shot him an ugly look. She didn’t need him telling her that her culinary skills—never top-of-the-line to begin with—were disintegrating into the realm of abomination. “Everything I know about cooking I learned from you.”
This earned her a scornful snort.
Turning to Jackson, who was nursing another mug of coffee, she said, “You’re staying for breakfast?”
