Page 97 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
Morgan smiled, faint and wry. “No, no drilling. But it does involve something you might not be willing to give. And if not, I understand completely. I’m leaving this entirely up to you.”
Jacqueline’s expression grew pensive. “What would I have to give, exactly?”
“Your trust.”
They sat staring at one another while a brilliant green hummingbird zipped around the table, in search of food. Finally it darted off with a muted buzz of its blazing wings.
“I assume if I wait long enough an explanation will be forthcoming,” said Jacqueline.
Morgan held out her hands, palm up. “I have a Gift called Suggestion. It means that if I touch you with the intent to direct your behavior, I can. For instance, if I touched you now and said, ‘Quack like a duck,’ you would do so.”
Jacqueline stared at her. “That doesn’t engender much confidence, just so you know.”
“Not that I would say that, of course, that’s just an example. But if I said something like, ‘Remember your past,’ well, you get the idea.”
With narrowed eyes, Jacqueline said, “How do I know you wouldn’t say something like, ‘Jump out of this tree,’ instead?”
Still with her hands extended, Morgan said softly, “You don’t. That’s why it’s called trust. But if it makes any difference, I give you my word the that only thing I will Suggest will be for you to remember your past.”
Jacqueline crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair. She looked away, letting her gaze travel slowly around the room, over the fabric flowing down from above, the dais with the Alpha’s sumptuous throne, the flowers massed in vases. Morgan wondered if it looked like a fairy tale or a nightmare to her, and decided probably a little bit of both.
“Okay,” Jacqueline said finally. She sat forward and held out her hands. “I don’t know why, but I do feel like I can trust you.”
Morgan beamed. “Smashing! Let’s begin by—”
“Just in case this goes totally sideways and you accidentally wipe my brain like a crashed hard drive, I want you to tell him something for me.”
Morgan was too intrigued to be insulted by the insinuation that she wasn’t in perfect control of her Gift. “Who? What?”
Jacqueline glanced up at her, looking a bit sheepish. “Hawk.”
Morgan drawled, “Oh?”
“Tell him I said . . . tell him I said . . .” She looked away, took a breath, and said, “That he seems like someone I would have wanted to know. That’s all.”
“Handsome as the devil, isn’t he?” Morgan whispered conspiratorially. Jacqueline glanced back at her, surprised. “Not as handsome as my husband, of course, but then I’m biased. Most of the women in this colony think Hawk is nothing short of Adonis.”
“He’s . . . very . . .” Jacque
line cleared her throat, then waved her hands in front of Morgan’s face. “Can we just get on with this, please?”
Morgan tried to press the satisfied smile from her lips. “All right. Give me your hands.”
Jacqueline carefully rested her palms atop Morgan’s. She grasped her hands lightly, noting the slight tremble. She looked up, into Jacqueline’s eyes, and said forcefully, “You’re not afraid of me.”
Instantly, the trembling stopped. Jacqueline’s face went slack. Her eyes hazed. All the tension went out of her body.
“Tell me your name.”
“Jacqueline Anne Dolan.” Her voice was faraway, to match the look in her eyes.
“And what is my name?”
“Morgan Montgomery Luna,” she repeated dutifully.
“Correct. Very good. Now, Jacqueline, I want you to remember your life. I want you to remove any blocks you may have constructed around your memory, and tell me where you were born.”
“Boston,” said Jacqueline instantly.
