"Hunted what?" Shea held her breath, afraid of what he might say. "Beautiful women, little one, and I was the one who found you after all." His white teeth gleamed at her, a definite leer. "Don't put me off like that." She had already taken advantage, sliding easily into his mind and picking out the pictures of danger and revulsion. Fear even. Not so much of their adversary, but of themselves turning into the very thing they sought to destroy. Jacques, unprepared for her entrance into his mind, had been confident he could keep the grimmer side of their existence watered down for her. Shea had always been reluctant to enter his mind; it hadn't occurred to him that she would do so whenever she wanted. His expression was so rueful that Shea burst out laughing. "Where I grew up, that's called being caught with your pants down." He looked down at his body, glistening with the rain. His grin was self-mocking, his black eyes amused. "Literally."