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“I remember that now. Barely, in the back of my mind. You said you don’t forget things you see. I counted on that. I stayed awake as long as I could. You really don’t forget anything.”

“I thought, at first, I was following the things I learned in med school, but the surgery was too advanced and all done with my mind, not my hands. Using my mind versus my hands was difficult. The impulse to use hands was so strong. Of course I had no instruments. I felt like I was torturing you. It was intense. The heat was intense. Keeping that controlled so I was repairing your insides and not burning you to a crisp was a fine balance that terrified me.” That confession came out in a little rush.

She was very pleased that her voice was stronger. Rubin pressed another cloth to her lips. This one had clean, pure water. He wanted her to open her mouth so he could give her ice chips. She realized she had an IV in her arm and they were giving her fluids to keep her from being dehydrated. They knew it was impossible for her to sit up and drink anything.

“You were amazing. I was proud of you.” He leaned down and brushed strands of hair from her face with his fingertips.

The gesture was so gentle she wanted to cry.

“You were looking up surgeries online, was that to visualize them?”

Jonquille just barely managed to stop herself from shaking her head. “I kept putting words like ‘psychic surgeon’ into the search engine with the hopes that someone before me had thought up a way to reverse psychic enhancements.”

Rubin was silent for a few moments, his expression thoughtful. She liked that so much about him. He always took time to actually listen to her and think over what she was saying as if it mattered to him.

“You were actually looking up psychic surgeons online in hopes of finding out how to repair psychic damage, not physical damage?” There was speculation in his voice. “I’ve always thought in terms of physical damage. I’m a doctor and a surgeon. I fly into hot spots where our soldiers are torn up. I’ve never thought in any other terms.”

“I’ve had to think about failed experiments, Rubin. There was Dahlia in a mental institution because she couldn’t control fire. What if we could find a way to at least lessen those reactions? There has to be a way. He enhanced us. The DNA part, we can’t change that. Even somewhat, I agree, the psychic enhancement we want, but not to the degree that those of us who are suffering and can’t live in society can’t be fixed.”

Rubin sat for a long time just looking at her. He framed her face with both hands. “I don’t know how I got so lucky, Jonquille. This actually never occurred to me. Not once, and I’ve been living with Pepper, who can’t be touched by anyone but her husband, Wyatt. It’s absolute hell for her. There are others as well we could help—maybe. We’d have to look at the side effects as well. The bond between pairs is extremely strong. We don’t want to weaken that in any way. That could be a part of the psychic weave, and messing with that could cause damage to a bonded couple. We don’t want to be responsible for that.”

He didn’t want to lose her. She heard that in his voice. She understood. She didn’t want to lose him either, but he didn’t understand what it was like to be her. At the moment, she was secluded in a bedroom, down a long hall, away from anyone else in the house. She heard the sound of children and the low murmur of other voices. She knew there were others in the house. Every single person had energy. All of them had emotions. Those emotions had energy. That energy would feed into her until she would light up like a Christmas tree and be dangerous. She couldn’t be around people. Rubin didn’t know what that was like. As much as he wanted to have empathy, he didn’t really understand.

Those dark eyes bored into hers. Looked right into her as if looking into her soul. She’d forgotten that they were so connected, that because she’d used psychic healing, that had connected them even more. He was there in her mind and very aware of what she was thinking.

“If I could give you the freedom of being around people but it would break our bond, would you trade being with me for that kind of absolute freedom?”

He didn’t take his gaze from hers, nor did he leave her mind. She felt him inside her. Waiting. Her heart accelerated. Would she? Was that even a fair question? She’d spent a good portion of her life researching a way to help herself and others like her.


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal