They left Collin's suite behind and he heard the man murmuring to tiny boys as they passed. "Mim'da, what happened to him?," one child asked in concern.
"Cody, open the door to Zeke's room," Collin ordered.
"Yes, mim'da." The boy rushed ahead. When the door was flung open suddenly, Cohone let out a little shriek of fright. Zeke put his hand on the boy's arm looking like a tiny child next to the Frenchman.
"It's ok...you are mine, now. Noone can harm you," the boy said gently. "What is the problem, Brice? Have you brought me a pet?," the kid asked eagerly. Shadow bucked in protest until Collin nearly dropped him.
"No, Zeke...Shadow is not yours. Settle down," he soothed brushing his face along the cat's neck as he hugged him to keep the jerking to a minimum. Finally, Shadow grew still.
"I see," the boy sighed. "Then, what do you need, Brice?"
"I was wondering if you would allow him to stay here just..." Shadow revolted. "Long enough to get a healer to look at him! Damn it! Don't you want to feel better?," he snarled growing angry at his temper tantrum.
The cat turned his head towards the man's voice. He concentrated hard. "He is trying to talk to you. Let him in." The boy was powerful enough to feel it even at a distance, he noticed. Collin was powerful, and shielded against mind probes. The cat grew frustrated.
"Alright...Talk. No skimming my memories and thoughts. Just words." The warning was thick in his voice. Shadow huffed in growing panic. Zeke came closer and touched the animal's shoulder in sympathy. A sudden blast of white light burst forth from his fur! The animal's scream was loud in the silence of the room. Shadow's fear blossomed ten-fold. He struggled until Collin dropped him. "Back off, Zekar!"
"I hurt him...," the child whispered stricken.
"No...He is Dark Clan! 'Light cannot touch the Dark!' Stay back," he warned.
The cat grew motionless at his words, still terrified and in pain, but daring to trust that they understood what he had been trying to tell them, at last. Collin knelt to examine the newest wound. "He is okay. Just a flesh wound. Some missing hair, and burnt skin. He is fine. You are alright." Collin stroked his fur letting his scent wash away everything else in the room. "You are alright..." He slowly stopped shaking as the slaver held him. Stroking him. Rocked and soothed him. "Shh. I understand. No healer. I will find something else." Shadow did not wait around to see what that would be. He passed out too exhausted to be frightened any longer.
He woke with a jolt of surprise. He knew this place. It was where they were kept before Collin had accepted them. There were many voices in the darkness. The sound of a steady drip that slowly drove anyone inside crazy to get out...away from the sound. It smelled of earth and fear. He realized what woke him. Tiponya's moan. The girls had made it here safely; he smelled her sister. On himself he smelled medicine, but strangely he felt worse. He tried to stand and found out he was bound from head-to-toe. He made a sound of protest. Instantly, a boy was at his side comforting him. "No movements," he cautioned. "You were hurt very bad." He turned to the voice almost desperate and concentrated on his mind. The strange boy was like an open book before him. He rolled into his thoughts like an ocean current, strong and swift.
The memory he found there disturbed him. The Death Hordes had swept through his town destroying all within sight. Collin and his armies had surrounded the youngest of the children and shielded them from the destruction. Then, he had sent them all through a portal to this place. They owed him for their lives, but using them in his whorehouse was just wrong, Shadow fumed. The kid had seen the Death Horde and lived, he mused. Not something many creatures could claim. In his mind, nothing was worse than becoming one of the ghouls that had killed his friends and family. The images in his mind horrified Shadow so much he almost released the boy accidentally. It had been a short assault by the Dane, but...Sufficiently rolled, he changed the view. He turned back time to watch a man breaking his own bones, resetting them so he could heal faster. They had salved the sores, bandaged the bloody spots, and tied him to keep him from shifting his rebroken limbs inadvertently. Disgusted at looking at his beauty ruined, he left the stranger's conscienceness returning to his own.
What he needed was food! What were these people that they did not feed him? De 'Vorga leaned down beside him. "You are hungry. How do I know that?" Probably the same way Shadow knew he was half dragonette. The mental melding leaked little bits of knowledge back and forth. "Can I help?," the boy offered with just a trace of fear. "Can you feed from a palm? I can't risk a wound anywhere else." The cat moved nearly crying at the prospect. "Open your mouth." He did. The boy didn't trust him enough to drop his hand between his teeth. Instead, he sliced a deep cut into his palm and directed the flow onto his tongue. The cat licked swiftly drinking in every drop. He was purring before he even recognized it. It was De 'Vorga's laughter that made him aware of it. As the cut closed, the boy let his hand drop closer until Shadow could lick the last traces away. He laughed again. "That tickles!," he protested. Then, he drew the hand away flexing it to test the remaining soreness. "Feel better now?" The cat continued to purr. He could feel his body absorbing the liquid into his starving cells. It spread like the finest, aged scotch through his bloodstream.