smiled and she felt the tug of it in her stomach. The reaction was still new, still powerful. She wondered if it would ever settle down—she had a feeling not, not when she was mated to this male.
The smile changed to reflect his knowledge of her susceptibility to him—pure feline satisfaction. “I can’t read minds.”
“Lucas.” She found a glass and rinsed it out. “I felt nothing off Faith. Nothing.”
His body went hunting-quiet. “Like before?”
Sascha didn’t like remembering her first brush with the reptilian coldness of a mind that had given off no emotional feedback. The Psy might’ve buried their emotions, but they were there, a low-level hum most of her race didn’t know existed, but which she’d always sensed on a level deeper than consciousness.
However, there were some who literally gave off no emotion . . . because they’d never had any feelings to subjugate—sociopaths given ultimate freedom by Silence. “No,” she said quickly. “Not like before.”
He glanced out of the kitchen and through to where Vaughn sat holding Faith. “But?”
She walked to stand in the circle of his arms. “It’s like she’s encased in a shell, more so than other Psy. Everything’s so tightly contained, it isolates her in a way I can barely imagine.” His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under her hand, but what brought her a feeling of such safety could well kill Faith.
“This woman has had literally no contact with any race other than her own, and you heard the extent of even that limited contact. We’re overloading her senses and the only way she has to cope is by shutting down.”
“The seizures—do you think they’re a real possibility?”
Sascha took a moment to think. “I don’t know for sure. The F-Psy rarely fed data into the PsyNet when I was connected, because in most cases, what they learn has been paid for by someone. But my instincts say she thinks they’re real, that she’s been taught they’re real.”
“So she could subconsciously bring one on?”
“Yes.” Sascha had once believed she was a cardinal without power—she knew exactly what it was like to live a lie for so long that it became the truth. “Faith has no concept of a life outside of the world in which she was raised. That she’s here at all is a testament to the strength inside of her.”
“Good. The weak don’t survive.”
Vaughn felt the woman in his arms stir. Her eyes blinked open almost immediately. “Breathe deep,” he instructed the instant she started to freeze up. “If you pass out, we’ll have to go through this again.”
“Please let me go.”
There was no vulnerability in her tone, nothing that gave away her emotional temperature. Then again, she was Psy—she had no feelings. Frowning at the jaguar’s demand to continue holding her, he allowed her to sit up on his lap. When she pushed at his arm, he dropped it so she could stand.
She rubbed her hands over her pants. “Where’s Sascha?”
“I’m here.” Coming out of the kitchen, Sascha handed Faith a glass of water. “Drink.”
Faith did so without argument, then put the glass on the table in front of the sofa. Vaughn watched and waited as she looked around for a place to sit. Lucas had already claimed the armchair and now pulled Sascha to sit across his thighs. Faith was left with the option of sitting beside him or in an armchair on the far side of the room. She took the sensible alternative, but tried to put as much distance between them as she could.
“How’re you feeling?” Sascha asked.
“Fine. But please tell your pack members not to touch me. I have no capacity to process the stimulation.”
Vaughn ran a finger down her cheek. She whipped around to pin him with a look. “I said don’t touch me.”
“When we first met, you’d have threatened to go to pieces with that one touch.” He raised an eyebrow. “Now you can deal.”
She looked at him. “You’re saying you’re desensitizing me.”
“No,
The smile changed to reflect his knowledge of her susceptibility to him—pure feline satisfaction. “I can’t read minds.”
“Lucas.” She found a glass and rinsed it out. “I felt nothing off Faith. Nothing.”
His body went hunting-quiet. “Like before?”
Sascha didn’t like remembering her first brush with the reptilian coldness of a mind that had given off no emotional feedback. The Psy might’ve buried their emotions, but they were there, a low-level hum most of her race didn’t know existed, but which she’d always sensed on a level deeper than consciousness.
However, there were some who literally gave off no emotion . . . because they’d never had any feelings to subjugate—sociopaths given ultimate freedom by Silence. “No,” she said quickly. “Not like before.”
He glanced out of the kitchen and through to where Vaughn sat holding Faith. “But?”
She walked to stand in the circle of his arms. “It’s like she’s encased in a shell, more so than other Psy. Everything’s so tightly contained, it isolates her in a way I can barely imagine.” His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under her hand, but what brought her a feeling of such safety could well kill Faith.
“This woman has had literally no contact with any race other than her own, and you heard the extent of even that limited contact. We’re overloading her senses and the only way she has to cope is by shutting down.”
“The seizures—do you think they’re a real possibility?”
Sascha took a moment to think. “I don’t know for sure. The F-Psy rarely fed data into the PsyNet when I was connected, because in most cases, what they learn has been paid for by someone. But my instincts say she thinks they’re real, that she’s been taught they’re real.”
“So she could subconsciously bring one on?”
“Yes.” Sascha had once believed she was a cardinal without power—she knew exactly what it was like to live a lie for so long that it became the truth. “Faith has no concept of a life outside of the world in which she was raised. That she’s here at all is a testament to the strength inside of her.”
“Good. The weak don’t survive.”
Vaughn felt the woman in his arms stir. Her eyes blinked open almost immediately. “Breathe deep,” he instructed the instant she started to freeze up. “If you pass out, we’ll have to go through this again.”
“Please let me go.”
There was no vulnerability in her tone, nothing that gave away her emotional temperature. Then again, she was Psy—she had no feelings. Frowning at the jaguar’s demand to continue holding her, he allowed her to sit up on his lap. When she pushed at his arm, he dropped it so she could stand.
She rubbed her hands over her pants. “Where’s Sascha?”
“I’m here.” Coming out of the kitchen, Sascha handed Faith a glass of water. “Drink.”
Faith did so without argument, then put the glass on the table in front of the sofa. Vaughn watched and waited as she looked around for a place to sit. Lucas had already claimed the armchair and now pulled Sascha to sit across his thighs. Faith was left with the option of sitting beside him or in an armchair on the far side of the room. She took the sensible alternative, but tried to put as much distance between them as she could.
“How’re you feeling?” Sascha asked.
“Fine. But please tell your pack members not to touch me. I have no capacity to process the stimulation.”
Vaughn ran a finger down her cheek. She whipped around to pin him with a look. “I said don’t touch me.”
“When we first met, you’d have threatened to go to pieces with that one touch.” He raised an eyebrow. “Now you can deal.”
She looked at him. “You’re saying you’re desensitizing me.”
“No,
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