His arousal had subsided by the time he climbed out, toweled off and dressed in clean clothes, but he took a moment anyway, because what came next was more unappealing than leaving the bathroom to talk to Kat.
He stared into the mirror and forced himself to go over the possibilities. She could tell him that it was a mistake, that a moment of horny weakness had made her stumble into his arms. Or— oh God—even worse, that it wasn’t right because she was still tangled up with Miguel Mendoza, though she’d talked like that shit was over.
Do it or quit, but you gotta pick one. Alec’s words, echoing in his head. Sound advice, except that he was pretty sure Alec would kick his ass for about a dozen different things he’d done in the last two days.
“Fuck it,” he whispered, and shoved open the bathroom door.
Kat was huddled on the couch in the other room, one leg tucked under her and the other foot bouncing nervously on the floor.
Her gaze landed on him for a split second before skittering away. “There’s so much stuff, I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you know about the creepy dark side of the psychic community.”
“What you’ve told me, or Derek.”
“Derek doesn’t know much of it. He couldn’t, or he really would have locked me in a closet until I was twenty. Empaths…” She dragged in a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. “Lots of psychics are in danger during their formative years. Lots of us have powers that people would love to exploit. But empaths who don’t have fully developed protections are…vulnerable.”
It sounded like Ben’s warning. “Are you talking about the fact that there are people who would use them?”
“I’m talking about how people use us. If you get ahold of a strong receptive empath when they’re young, or you can manage to break an adult, we’re trainable. A patient person can make us love anyone, or anything. And I don’t mean make us think we love it. It’s real.”
“I don’t understand.”
Kat met his gaze. Held it. “They call it imprinting. Not like baby ducklings or anything, though. They’re not going for filial loyalty. Not usually. Because people are perverts and most empaths aren’t really useful as weapons. But if you strip an empath’s shields and flood them with pleasure, after enough time they’ll associate whatever the hell you’re doing to them with pleasure. Custom-built sex slaves.”
Andrew dropped to a chair. “People don’t really do that shit, do they?” Even as he asked, he knew it was a stupid question. If there was a way to do what she described, of course people would exploit it.
A weak smile curled her lips, and it looked forced. “Supernatural world kinda blows, doesn’t it? So much power, and people misuse it to find creative and more disgusting ways to get laid.”
“Yeah.” And that didn’t explain why she was telling him any of it. “You’re not trying to say this has something to do with me, are you?”
The smile faded. “That’s the scary, bad side of imprinting. The malicious side. But it can happen naturally too. We can grow around someone who’s important to us. Become what they need…and need what they want.”
“Oh.” He leaned back instinctively. “You think that might happen with me.”
Pain tightened her eyes, and she looked away. “No, I’ve got solid training now. Good shields.
Someone would have to break me first. But I didn’t have those shields when I met you, and I was young.
Infatuated. In love.”
How could hearing that still hurt so much? He was so busy quelling that pain he almost missed the import of her words. “When you met me.”
“I don’t usually have crazy porn-worthy orgasms from making out.” Her voice twisted, turned dry.
Morbidly amused. “And trust me, it wasn’t because Miguel sucked in bed. But it didn’t matter how well he brought it, he was never…”
You. Andrew rose and took a step back. “When? When did this happen?”
Kat slashed a look at him, eyes narrowed and mouth tight. “I don’t know if it happened at all. There’s no test. It’s not a switch or a spell. We all change because of the people in our lives. I just…change on a more fundamental level.”
“It’s got to be reversible.”
“Yeah, maybe with a time machine,” she snapped.
He’d hurt her feelings, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Don’t get snotty, Kat. I’m not worried about myself here. This isn’t fair to you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest in a blatantly defensive gesture. “Yeah, I was scared before you started backing away like you’re afraid I’m about to rape you. How much scarier do you think this is for me when you act that disgusted?”
The fear he’d been holding inside exploded in an unstoppable rush. “I’m not disgusted, I’m fucking freaked out. Can you give me a goddamn minute to process this?”
Kat rose stiffly. “You had a right to know, so I told you. But I don’t know if that’s what this is, or if I’m bent in some other way. Maybe I have a kink for shapeshifters who blew me off.”
She couldn’t have meant to marginalize what they’d shared, but he closed his eyes and turned away anyway. “Thanks a lot.”
Her breath hissed out. “I’m sorry. My shields aren’t—I didn’t mean—” Moments passed in silence.
Then, “Sometimes pride is all I have left.”
“After what?” he asked. “Did I take that much from you? Did I hurt you that much?”
“I loved you. I killed for you. And I was never what you needed.”
It stopped him cold, and he turned to face her again. “If that’s what you think happened between us, then you don’t get it at all, Kat.”
“Maybe not.” She looked tired. Older than her years, her blue eyes numb. “But you needed time. Space.
Alec to help you adjust, and Derek to be your friend. Anna, even if it was only for a while. You never needed me. Not once.”
He’d needed so many things from her, but one most of all—her safety. It had just turned out to be the one thing he couldn’t personally ensure, the one reason he’d had to push her away. “You’re so sure of that, and there’s nothing I can say, is there? Not a single damn thing.”
“You don’t say you need someone. You just do, or you don’t.” She rubbed at her face and dropped back to the couch so fast the springs creaked. “We can drown in words, and it’s never going to help.
We’re both wrong, and we’re both right. That’s life. A big fucking mess.”
“You’re right about one thing.” The admission came grudgingly, but he forced it out. “Talking isn’t going to get us anywhere, not now. Not like this. So we may as well order room service and rest up for tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She looked down. Her fingers closed on the hem of her baby-blue tank top, folding and unfolding it over and over. “I should have told you before. I would have, if I’d thought it was a possibility. And it might not be it, but if it is…” She swallowed. Cleared her throat. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He tried to stay silent, but it didn’t work. “Bullshit.”
Kat didn’t look up. “I don’t want to be your responsibility.”
It didn’t change the facts, not for either of them. “I get it.”
“Do you?” Her hands stilled. “I don’t want to be your responsibility.”
“Yeah.” He understood better than she knew. “You don’t want that to be why. I get it.”