I had a momentary flash of memory, just Blackwood's voice in my ears.
I didn't remember what he'd said or what he'd done, but brief memory of the sound had me curled up on the bench seat, my forehead on Stefan's thigh while I cried.
Stefan pulled his wrist away and used his other hand to pet my head lightly.
"Mercy," he said gently.
"He won't do that again.
Not now.
You are mine.
He can't fog your mind or force you to do anything." With my voice muffled by the fabric of his jeans, I said, "Does this mean you can read my mind?" He laughed a little.
"Only while you drink.
That isn't my gift.
Your secrets are safe." His laugh washed away Blackwood's voice.
I lifted up my head.
"I'm glad I don't remember more of what he did," I told Stefan.
But I thought that my desire to see Blackwood's body burn like Andre's might have a more personal reason than just what he was doing to Amber.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
I took a breath and evaluated myself.
"Awesome.
Like I could run from here to the Tri-Cities faster than the van could take us." He laughed.
"I don't think that's true ...
unless we get a flat tire." He stood up and he looked better than I'd seen him since ...
since before he'd landed on the floor of my living room looking like something that had been buried a hundred years.
I got up and had to sit down again.
"Balance," he said.
"It's a little like being drunk.
That'll fade fast, but I'd better drive us home." I should have felt terrible.
Some small voice was yammering that I should have checked with my Alpha before doing anything this ...
permanent.
But I felt fine, better than fine--and it wasn't just the vampire's blood.
I felt truly in control of my life for the first time since Tim's assault.
Which was pretty funny under the circumstances.