Alexion groaned in pain as he balled himself up into a fetal position, trying to make it stop. He held the heel of his hand against his right eye and still his head throbbed from the woman's banshee cries.
Danger crawled into bed with him and held him close, rocking him gently. She brushed her hands through his hair, making his resistance to her falter. No woman had ever held him like this. Not even his mother.
It was the tenderest moment of his life. And the most painful.
Danger leaned her cheek against the top of Alexion's blond hair. It felt so good to be this close to a man she knew. The curves of his hard masculine back pressed against her breasts and thighs, reminding her of how different their bodies were. He was all sinewy steel. Prickly flesh. Rough skin. And she loved the feel of it. The feel of him.
She just wished she knew how to help him through this.
Leaning forward, Danger inhaled his warm scent while singing an old French lullaby that her mother used to sing to her whenever she was upset. How she wished she could silence the voice inside him. She brushed her hand against his cheek, letting his whiskers tease her palm.
There was something incredibly intimate about this moment even though they were both fully dressed.
"Danger?"
She mentally cursed Keller as he swung open the door to their room, but she didn't withdraw from Alexion. "Yes?"
"You got a call from Rafael and he says you have to answer it right now. He says it's urgent."
He would. Damn that man's timing. You would think a pirate would have a better sense of when to leave someone alone. At one time, his life had depended on such instincts.
"I'll be right there." She reluctantly pulled away from Alexion. "I won't be gone long," she said softly in his ear.
She wasn't sure if he heard her or not. Her heart heavy, she left him on the bed and went to take the call.
"All right," Alexion said after a few minutes, trying to talk to his newfound soul. What the hell? He didn't have anything to lose and staying here in the bed until she died didn't seem productive for either one of them. "If you want to be free, lady, you and I have to make a pact."
She continued to wail.
"Woman, listen to me," he snarled out loud. "I can't even function if you don't stop doing that. You're going to get us both killed unless you get control of yourself."
"I want to go home. Where am I? Why am I here? Who are you? Why is it so dark? I don't understand what happened to me. I need to go home now. Why can't I go home ... ?"
Her questions came at him in rapid succession. So many that he could barely focus on any one of them.
"If a Daimon can do this, I can too," he growled, forcing himself to sit up. The room swam around him.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. He had to take control of this situation. He had to.
"Who are you?" he asked the woman.
"Carol."
The wailing lessened a degree, as if she were trying to get hold of herself. "All right, Carol. Everything will be all right. I promise. But you have to calm down and be quiet for a little while."
"Who are you? Why are you telling me to be quiet? "
How did he answer that one? "It's a bad dream you're having. If you rest quietly for a while, it'll get better."
"I want to go home! "
"I know, but you have to trust me."
"Is it really a bad dream?"
"Yes."
"It will get better?"