He took her hand again, and heedless of being an intruder, he travelled forcefully into her memories. There was little she could do to stop him.
All that had been done to change her ran across his mind. He not only saw, but sensed her reactions: the loneliness; the constant pain, the struggles all on her own to cope with the many changes her body was forced to endure. No help at all! No explanation for the why, and the reason...yet she knew...now?
How?
But Loni was more caught up in what had been done to her. And he was exceedingly filled with wrath.
This is how they grow the mates that produce us? How beastly!
Was this done to my mother, also, and she hid this from me?
How can our men be this selfish? Such usury! The animals! They do not deserve to continue our race!
With a shiver of disgust, Loni withdrew abruptly from the female's mind. He gave himself a physical shake, litterly, and stepped back, but was unable to remove completely, the feeling of revulsion from his features.
She turned questioningly to look in his eyes, and the emotion mirrored in her own was of recognizing shocked rejection.
Loni moaned. He had not meant to portray any such thing.
No! It was not you I found offensive.
Had she caught the projected thought?
How do I ease this situation?
****
He seemed so beside himself, Gemma felt inclined to salve his discomfort, so she reached up, curious, to the livid red scar on the side of his face.
Not only did she want to know, why he was so repulsed by her; she wished to know what had caused his disfigurement. He willingly let her in, and it was more disconcerting than she had imagined.
She could see it happening; feel the acid burn through the ear canal, into the nose, and down the throat. Gemma gasped reliving the emotions and feelings.
When a child, she had experienced a similar vision. She had seen a memory, an episode of a childhood friend. Boys had been throwing stones; one had caught her friend on the lip, causing permanent disfigurement for ever after. At the time, Gemma had felt guilty, believing because she remembered it so vividly, she had done the deed herself.
When she had told her mother, her parent had explained it was just a daydream. But, by now, Gemma knew differently. Since coming here, her powers of mental perception had increased tenfold.
And now, other scenes of the man's past were coming through: the cruel tearing away from his kindly mother; his valiant attempts to remain with her...and the horrible fire that had resulted because of his efforts...the reason for his atrocious punishment.
Gemma drew away from him, tears forming unchecked in her eyes. Attempting to close her mind from what she had seen, she sought to erase the disconcerting images. Suddenly, he was helping her to sort, block, and reject the thoughts of others; teaching her. And thirstily, she accepted that instruction.
When again she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her. She could now hear his words in her mind.
You are like me! Were you always a telepath? I learned how, from my mother.
But her thoughts were still somewhat jumbled; she was too overwhelmed to project. Gemma began to tremble uncontrollably, and as he led her away by the hand, her world became hazy from the stress of all that had happened. She never realized, she had gone into a faint.
She was also unaware, when he scooped her into his arms, and carried her unconscious form home.
Chapter 16
She had fallen asleep cradled in his arms, but...when Gemma awoke, both men were gone, and Lydia lay asleep on another mat across the room.
Gemma assumed, she knew what these two men would want, but she was unprepared to give it willingly.
I have to get away from here! I am not property, and I gave no consent.
She reached for a full length garment, folded at the foot of the mat. Her man had put it there the night before, but wouldn't allow her to sleep in the shift. She slipped it over her head now, tied the drawstring belt.
Then slipping off the soft mat, she crawled carefully, silently, on her hands and knees, to the double doors at the side of the room. One part of the portal was barred by a green tree branch, braced from the upper corner diagonally to the opposite lower end. Obviously, it was meant to keep others out, not her in.
There was a door knob on the second side, and Gemma quietly turned this to see if it was locked. It moved, and the door eased open soundlessly. It yawned like a mouth about to swallow her.
Dare I go through?
She peered around the corner. Beyond was what appeared to be a treed in garden space.
No one in sight.
Gemma stood up. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she cautiously slunk away.
In all directions stretched gravel roadways, guarded on either side by enormous evergreens, their trunks ten times the girth around of both her arms extended out together. As far as the eye could see, the pathways went, only dotted in the distance, here and there, by a tool shed, or a ladder fashioned against a wall, leading up into the high lofts above, from which a pale sunlight glow filtered down through the heavy branches.
Up there...maybe? Perhaps, a way out?
For hours, Gemma wandered about, seeking a way out on the ground floor. She met no one; all seemed asleep at this early hour.
The pleasurable scenery she passed through, with the vegetable plots, and treed and flowered landscaped areas, reminded Gemma of her time with Sam. He had built her a small pool with a fountain.
Sam...he made my first dream yard, just after we were
