shock and denial, it had been Tegan who’d found her. Incredibly, it had been Tegan who took her out of the compound and drove her to her Darkhaven home in the waning hours before dawn.
She had embarrassed herself with tears that wouldn’t end, but he’d let her spill them all. He’d let her weep, and even more astonishingly, he’d let her crumble against him, holding her through her grief in silence. With his strong arms wrapped around her, he held her together when she felt like she was being torn into pieces by her anguish.
He couldn’t have known he’d been her rock that night. Maybe it had meant nothing to him, but she would never forget his unexpected tenderness. When she’d finally found the strength to remove herself from the car, Tegan had merely watched her go, then drove away from the curb and out of her life…until last night in that alleyway when he’d saved her from the Rogues.
“The trance I put you in last night is still active,” Tegan said, evidently deciding to change the subject. “That’s why your talent is muted now. The block will hold so long as I’m here to keep it in place.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her eye down to the elaborate pattern of dermaglyphs that tracked up his forearms and disappeared under the short sleeves of his shirt. Where glyphs served as emotional barometers on members of the Breed, Tegan’s were only a shade darker than his golden skin tone at the moment, giving away nothing of the warrior’s mood.
Elise had seen his impressive Breed skin markings once before, when she’d first spoken with him at the Order’s compound a few months ago. She didn’t want to stare, but it was hard not to marvel at the swirling arcs and elegant, interlocking geometric designs that distinguished Tegan as one of the oldest of the race. He was of the Breed’s first generation; if the depth of his powers didn’t out him as such, the prevalence and complexity of his glyphs certainly did.
But the fact that he was Gen One also made him most vulnerable to things like sunlight, which, at the current hour of morning, was a very real concern.
“It’s past nine A.M .,” she said, in case he hadn’t noticed. “You stayed here all night.”
Tegan merely turned away to spoon up a plateful of scrambled eggs. He turned off the electric burner, then popped the toaster and added the slice of bread to the plate. “Come over here and eat while it’s warm.”
Elise didn’t realize how hungry she was until she reached the counter and took her first bite of food. There was nothing she could do to hold back her little moan of pleasure as she chewed. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
“That’s because you’re starving.”
Tegan went to the mini refrigerator and came back with a protein shake in a plastic bottle. Aside from the eggs, yogurt, and a couple of apples, there wasn’t much more to be found in there. She’d been living on meager sustenance, not because of the cost, but because it was hard to think about eating when her migraines were so severe. Which was a daily occurrence since she’d left the Darkhaven—worse each day she ventured out among humankind to hunt Minions.
“You’re not going to last, you know. Not like this.” Tegan placed the shake down in front of her, then went back to his post against the opposite counter. “I know what it’s doing to you, living here among the humans. I know how hard the psychic input hits you, Elise. You have no control over it, and that’s a dangerous thing. It can destroy you. I felt what it does to you, when I pulled you up off the floor a few hours ago.”
She recalled her initial encounters with Tegan, how his touch had made her feel somehow exposed to him. The first time she experienced the warrior’s touch had been when he and Dante had shown up at the Darkhaven looking for her brother-in-law. The warriors had confronted Sterling in front of the residence, and when Elise ran out at the commotion, it was
She had embarrassed herself with tears that wouldn’t end, but he’d let her spill them all. He’d let her weep, and even more astonishingly, he’d let her crumble against him, holding her through her grief in silence. With his strong arms wrapped around her, he held her together when she felt like she was being torn into pieces by her anguish.
He couldn’t have known he’d been her rock that night. Maybe it had meant nothing to him, but she would never forget his unexpected tenderness. When she’d finally found the strength to remove herself from the car, Tegan had merely watched her go, then drove away from the curb and out of her life…until last night in that alleyway when he’d saved her from the Rogues.
“The trance I put you in last night is still active,” Tegan said, evidently deciding to change the subject. “That’s why your talent is muted now. The block will hold so long as I’m here to keep it in place.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her eye down to the elaborate pattern of dermaglyphs that tracked up his forearms and disappeared under the short sleeves of his shirt. Where glyphs served as emotional barometers on members of the Breed, Tegan’s were only a shade darker than his golden skin tone at the moment, giving away nothing of the warrior’s mood.
Elise had seen his impressive Breed skin markings once before, when she’d first spoken with him at the Order’s compound a few months ago. She didn’t want to stare, but it was hard not to marvel at the swirling arcs and elegant, interlocking geometric designs that distinguished Tegan as one of the oldest of the race. He was of the Breed’s first generation; if the depth of his powers didn’t out him as such, the prevalence and complexity of his glyphs certainly did.
But the fact that he was Gen One also made him most vulnerable to things like sunlight, which, at the current hour of morning, was a very real concern.
“It’s past nine A.M .,” she said, in case he hadn’t noticed. “You stayed here all night.”
Tegan merely turned away to spoon up a plateful of scrambled eggs. He turned off the electric burner, then popped the toaster and added the slice of bread to the plate. “Come over here and eat while it’s warm.”
Elise didn’t realize how hungry she was until she reached the counter and took her first bite of food. There was nothing she could do to hold back her little moan of pleasure as she chewed. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
“That’s because you’re starving.”
Tegan went to the mini refrigerator and came back with a protein shake in a plastic bottle. Aside from the eggs, yogurt, and a couple of apples, there wasn’t much more to be found in there. She’d been living on meager sustenance, not because of the cost, but because it was hard to think about eating when her migraines were so severe. Which was a daily occurrence since she’d left the Darkhaven—worse each day she ventured out among humankind to hunt Minions.
“You’re not going to last, you know. Not like this.” Tegan placed the shake down in front of her, then went back to his post against the opposite counter. “I know what it’s doing to you, living here among the humans. I know how hard the psychic input hits you, Elise. You have no control over it, and that’s a dangerous thing. It can destroy you. I felt what it does to you, when I pulled you up off the floor a few hours ago.”
She recalled her initial encounters with Tegan, how his touch had made her feel somehow exposed to him. The first time she experienced the warrior’s touch had been when he and Dante had shown up at the Darkhaven looking for her brother-in-law. The warriors had confronted Sterling in front of the residence, and when Elise ran out at the commotion, it was
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