Slave to Sensation

No one had any answers.



Chapter 14



Since the beds in the house were taken, it was decided to leave Sascha on the table where Tamsyn and the sentinels could keep an eye on her throughout the night. They found some blankets and placed them under her, along with a pillow for her head. Lucas covered her with a soft throw after removing her boots.



"Let her sleep." Tamsyn checked Sascha's pulse. "If she doesn't stir by tomorrow, then... I don't know what we'll do. Do we call the Psy? What if they're the ones who did this?" She shook her head and leaned against Nate. "Would Sascha want them to see her like this?"



Lucas didn't answer. He should've been concentrating on the safety of his pack but his attention was on the female lying before him. She was in a world he couldn't enter, a woman he couldn't protect. Just like he hadn't been able to protect another woman he'd loved.



Even after all this time, he couldn't remember his mother's laughter without remembering her screams. Young and weak, he'd watched her fall in a fury of claws and teeth, watched the brilliant light of her life splutter out. Vengeance had cooled the blazing anger inside him but Lucas knew the scars were for always, markers to the lost lives of his healer mother and sentinel father. Those scars had hardened him, but today he'd discovered that they couldn't protect against everything.



Sascha had somehow become firmly lodged inside him, a vibrant presence in the heart of hearts where only a mate could go. Now her light, too, was flickering in a storm he couldn't block, danger he couldn't even see. His helplessness devastated him. He was furious at fate for giving him a mate he couldn't keep safe. Perhaps that was why he'd been willfully blind to a truth the panther had known from the start - he hadn't wanted to suffer as he'd done once before, hadn't wanted to bleed his heart's blood.



"You will wake up," he ordered in a harsh whisper, his voice holding the rough edge of a growl. He had no intention of losing what he'd barely found.



Hours passed. They watched. They waited. Birds began to wake but no Psy swooped down on them. It appeared the SnowDancers had kept their word and that whatever had happened to Sascha, it hadn't been because the Council had learned she was helping them.



Nervous mothers started to relax but the soldiers remained on high alert. Just as the sky began to lighten, Sascha stirred. Lucas ordered everyone but Nate and Tamsyn out of the kitchen.



Her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling for several seconds before sitting up. "How did I get here?"



"The SnowDancers found you in their territory and I brought you here." He wanted to bare his teeth and mark her. Now that he understood, he had no desire to fight the primitive urges of his beast.



"What? I was supposed to stop in your lands." She went to push back her hair and froze. "You undid my braid."



"Yes." The single word was full of possessiveness.



She looked bewildered and it was the first time he'd ever seen any Psy look that way. "May I have some water?"



Tamsyn was already holding out a glass. Taking it from her, Sascha drank it down. "Thank you."



"You're welcome." Tamsyn took the glass back and her eyes met Lucas's. "Maybe I should check on the others."



"Yes."



Nate frowned but heard the message. A minute later, Lucas was alone in the kitchen with Sascha. Leaning forward, he did something he'd been aching to do since she'd woken. He lifted her up into his arms and sat down in a chair with her cradled in his embrace.



She froze. "What are you doing?"



"Holding you." He breathed in the scent of her, tangling one hand in the curls at her waist. "I thought you were dying. You can't die."



As if she understood the anguish he'd gone through, she placed a slender hand hesitantly against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. "I think I was in a deep sleep state. My body is now functioning normally."



"What happened?"



"I don't know."



"I can smell a lie." He felt her tremble in his arms and every protective urge he had surged to the surface. "Speak to me, darling."



"I'll help you," she whispered. "I'll help you find the killer, give you everything I have."



There was a depth of conviction in her voice that hadn't been there earlier. "Why?"



"I have to be at my apartment by noon," she said, in place of an answer. "That was when I told Mother I'd be back from a trip to see an out-of-town architect with you."



"We'll get you there." He squeezed her tight, feeding the need in him, the need for her. "Tell me what happened. I'm not going to stop asking."



"I lost control of my body," she said softly. "I've been having problems for months. They always passed without major incident, but this time, it was like my entire system short-circuited. I headed for your lands because I thought I'd be safe from Psy eyes there."



"You need to be seen by a doctor."



"No." She shook her head. "No one can know that I'm starting to crack."



"It sounds like a physical problem, not a mental one."



"It isn't. I... felt things, Lucas. Things that drove me to unconsciousness. This is coming from my mind." Her hand clenched against his chest. "If they find out..."



He wasn't happy with her not seeing a doctor but knew he had little choice if she'd made up her mind - he'd never had reason to track down a doctor who'd treat Psy patients in confidence. It was something he was going to make it his business to find out. "How're you feeling now?"



"Fine. But I want to shower."



"All right." He continued to hold her. Her hunger for touch was so strong, it tore at him. "Sascha, I know you're not like other Psy." It was time to get the truth out into the open.



Her hand slapped over his mouth. "Don't ever say that out loud. Ever. If you have any... care for me, don't even think it." Fear vibrated in her voice. "If anyone overhears, it'll mean my death."



He kissed the palm of her hand and watched the night sky of her eyes darken in confusion. She jerked the hand away. "You'll have to talk about it soon."



"I know." She sat up, pushing away from him. "I'm breaking apart, but before I do, I'll help you."



"Breaking apart?"



"Madness." Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't catch the word. "I'm going insane. There's no more hiding from it - I might as well go down in a blaze of glory." Her eyes met his. "Will you promise me one thing?"



"What do you want?"



"When the madness breaks me, I want you to kill me. Quickly, cleanly, without mercy."



His heart stopped. "No."



"You must," she said, her tone urgent. "If you don't, they'll turn me into the walking dead. Promise."



He had no intention of killing her. But he could prevaricate as well as the next feline. "I'll kill you if you give in to insanity." No matter what her fears, there was no hint of mental sickness in her. None. He would've smelled the acrid scent of decay where he only smelled life and hope.



Sascha walked into the living room after her shower and came face-to-face with a leopard male she had every reason to fear. "Hello, Dorian."



He stared at her with those eyes of such pure blue it was impossible to believe the darkness that lurked within. "You did something to me." It wasn't an accusation but a statement of fact. The anger she'd expected was there, but it was a simmering shadow deep inside, not directed at her.



"I don't know what I did, if I did anything," she told him, her heart in her throat. She'd convinced herself that she'd imagined the entire incident, that it had been part of the encroaching madness. But what if...?



Dorian touched her cheek with his fingertips. Not used to touch from anyone but Lucas, she flinched. His eyes narrowed and he dropped the hand. "No touching?"



"I'm not changeling." She knew it sounded cold but how else could she explain? "Something so easy for you is... difficult for me."



To her surprise, he reached out to cup her face between his palms as he looked down into her eyes. "I want to see inside you," he said. "I want to see if you have a heart, a soul."



"I wish you could, too." She wasn't so sure herself. Had it been burned out of her during conditioning?



"Dorian." Lucas's voice came from her back, startling her. There was a thread of warning in his tone but he didn't interrupt. Not that it mattered. His power was in the air he breathed, in the scent of his skin. He was alpha and she was starting to understand what that really meant.



"I wasn't hurting you, was I, Sascha?" Dorian dropped his hands.



She felt his need, his anguish, his guilt. Taking a step forward, she put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "You only hurt yourself." The knot of his pain was tight and growing tighter every day. She worried it would explode if he didn't start letting it go. "Stop it, Dorian. Stop punishing yourself for a monster's crime."



His lashes swept down and when his eyes opened again, he let her see the bloody edge of the fury that drove him. "Not until he's dead. Then we'll talk about it."



Sascha let go of his shoulder and turned to look at Lucas, a silent plea in her eyes. He shook his head. No one could help Dorian until he was willing.



"Ready to go?" Lucas asked.



She smoothed a hand over her suit, which Tamsyn had ironed for her, and nodded. "Yes." Fear crawled in from the corners of her mind. Enrique had likely left his spies around. He'd find her the second she walked back in. "I need to have something to give them since I was supposedly with you overnight. They'll expect me to have learned at least one fact."



Lucas walked closer and though he wasn't touching her, she felt the pressure of his presence. It was as if her body knew his, as if it was reaching out to embrace him though they'd only ever kissed once. Looking into that savage face with its slashing marker, she wondered whether he could see into the torment of her heart.