There was something like a swift gasp from Morgead.
Jez. don't. Don't hide from me-
You're not allowed here, she snapped back, this time directing the thought straight at him. Go away!
I can't. For just a moment his mental voice sounded confused and scared. She hadn't realized Morgead could be confused and scared. I'm not doing this. It's just-happening.
But it shouldn't be happening, Jez thought, and she didn't know whether she was talking to him or just to herself. She was beginning to shake. She couldn't resist the pull that was trying to bring her soul to the surface and intermingle it with Morgead's-she couldn't. It was stronger than anything she'd ever experienced. But she knew that if she gave in, she was dead.
Don't be afraid. Don't, Morgead said in a voice she had never heard from him before. A voice of desperate gentleness. His mind was trying to wrap around hers protectively, like dark wings shielding her, touching her softly.
Jez felt her insides turn to water.
No. No...
Yes, Morgead's voice whispered.
She had to stop this-now. She had to break the contact. But although Jez could still feel her physical body, she seemed powerless to control it. She could sense Morgead's arms supporting her and his lips on her throat and she knew that he was still drinking. But she couldn't so much as move a finger to push him away. The muscles that she'd trained so ruthlessly to obey her under any circumstances were betraying her now.
She had to try another way.
This shouldn't be happening, she told Morgead, putting all the energy of her terror behind the thought.
I know. But that's because you're fighting it. We should be somewhere else by now.
Jez was exasperated. Where else?
I don't know, he said, and she could feel a tinge of sadness in his thought. Some place-deeper. Where we'd really be together. But you won't open your mind....
Morgead, what are you talking about? What do you think is going on?
He seemed genuinely surprised. Don't you know? It's the soulmate principle.
Jez felt the floor drop away beneath her.
No. That's not possible. That can't be. She wasn't talking to Morgead anymore; she was desperately trying to convince herself. I'm not soulmates with Morgead. I can't be. We hate each other ... he hates me ... all we ever do is fight. . .
He's impossible and dangerous and hotheaded and stubborn... he's crazy... he's angry and hostile . .
. he's frustrating and infuriating and he loves to make me miserable . ..
And I don't even believe in soulmates. And even if I did, I wouldn't believe it could happen like this, just bang, out of the blue, like getting hit by a train when you're not looking, without any warning or even any attraction to the person beforehand....
But the very hysteria of her own thoughts was a bad sign. Anything that could tear away her self-control like this was powerful almost beyond imagination. And she could still feel it pulling at her, trying to strip off the layers of cloud she was hiding behind. It wanted Morgead to see her as she truly was.
And it was trying to show her Morgead. Flashes of his Me, of himself. Glimpses that hit her and seemed to cut cleanly through her, leaving her gasping with their intensity.
A little boy with a mop of tousled dark hair and eyes like emerald, watching his mother walk out the door with some man-again. Going to play alone in the darkness, amusing himself. And then meeting a little redheaded girl, a girl with silvery-blue eyes and a flashing smile. And not being alone anymore. And walking on fences with her in the cool night air, chasing small animals, falling and giggling....
A slightly older boy with longer hair that fell around his face, uncared-for. Watching his mother walk out one last time, never to come back. Hunting for food, sleeping in an empty house that got messier and messier. Learning to care for himself. Training himself. Getting harder, in mind and body, seeing a sullen expression when he looked in the mirror...
A boy even older watching humans, who were weak and silly and short-lived, but who had all the things he didn't have. Family, security, food every night. Watching the Night People, the elders, who felt no responsibility to help an abandoned vampire child....
I never knew, Jez thought. She still felt dizzy, as if she couldn't get enough air. The images were dazzling in their clarity and they tore at her heart.
A boy who started a gang to create a family, and who went first to the little girl with red hair. The two of them grinning wickedly, running wild in the streets, finding others. Collecting kids the adults couldn't control or wouldn't miss. Walking around the worst parts of town, unafraid-because they had one another now.
The images were coming faster, and Jez could hardly keep up with them.
Dashing through the metal scrap yard... with Jez ... Hiding under a fish-smelling wharf... from Jez...
His first big kill, a stag in the hills of San Rafael.. . and Jez there to share the hot blood that warmed and intoxicated and brought life all at once. Fear and happiness and anger and arguments, hurt and sadness and exasperation-but always with Jez interwoven into the fabric. She was always there in his memories, fire-colored hair streaming behind her, heavy-lashed eyes snapping with challenge and excitement. She was everything bright and eager and brave and honest. She was haloed with flame.
I didn't know... how could I know? How could I realize I meant so much to him... ?
And who would have thought it would mean so much to her when she found out? She was stunned, overcome-but something inside her was singing, too.
She was happy about it. She could feel something bubbling up that she hadn't even realized was there; a wild and heady delight that seemed to shoot out to the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet.
Morgead, she whispered with her mind.
She could sense him, but for once he didn't answer. She felt his sudden fear, his own desire to run and hide. He hadn't meant to show her these things. They were being forced out of him by the same power that was dragging at Jez.