Blue Dawn by Norah-Jean Perkin Page A

taught to suppress our emotions. To be in control. Too much laughter, too much crying, too much anger, these were all things to be avoided.”
    “Really?” Allie frowned. The pressure of her fingers entwined with his increased, sharpening his feeling of connection to her. She surveyed him with a concern he found even more unsettling.
    “I guess that explains a lot. But I can’t imagine living like that. In my family, laughing, crying, singing, fighting were the norm. No one would ever describe us as too controlled. More like loud and noisy.”
    For one brief moment a vivid picture of Allie’s family crowded around a tiny kitchen table possessed Erik’s head. The noise level was fierce, but what almost knocked Erik off his feet was the palpable feeling of love and happiness. He’d never felt anything like it before in his life.
    “Meowww.”
    The pitiful plaint and the rubbing of fur against the bare ankle below his rolled-up jeans disrupted the unsettling picture in Erik’s head. Sharkey was rubbing against his leg.
    “Well, look at that.” Allie dropped his hand, knelt down, and quickly captured the cat from the floor.
    Erik watched with undisguised interest as she hugged the cat to her chest, and rubbed her cheek against its fur.
    “So,” she continued, the timbre of her voice lowering to match the purr of the little cat, ”you wouldn’t dance with me but you can’t stand anyone else getting all the attention, can you, you jealous little creature.”
    “Jealous? You mean cats experience jealousy?”
    Erik knew about the high emotions of humans.
    But animals too?
    “Of course.” Allie looked up from the cat in surprise. “They’re worse than people. You must have seen that before, with one of your pets.”
    “I’ve never had a pet,” he said tersely.
    “No? Not even a fish?”
    “No.” His gut tightened.
    “You don’t like animals?” Allie’s voice held a note of incredulity.
    “It’s not that,” Erik said quickly. “I just . . . we just never had any pets.”
    “Oh.” An array of emotions flickered across Allie’s face. Erik knew she was remembering the incident with the bird the psychic had described.
    The incident he had refused to discuss.
    Suddenly she thrust the little cat at him.
    “Here. You hold him.”
    Startled, Erik took the cat. With awkward motions he held it against his chest.
    “Pat him.”
    “Pat him?”
    “Yes. Sharkey loves to be stroked. He also likes being scratched behind the ears. Scratch him behind the ears and you’ll have a friend for life.”
    Tentatively Erik raised his hand and stroked Sharkey. In response the little cat snuggled closer, his body warm against Erik’s chest.
    Ridiculously pleased by the animal’s response, Erik experimented with scratching him behind the ears. A deep purr of contentment rumbled from the little cat’s throat.
    “He likes it, doesn’t he?” Erik couldn’t keep the awe from his voice. Nor the smile from his face.
    “Of course.”
    The gentleness of her voice made Erik look up at Allie. She was smiling too, her eyes lit with that special warmth that did strange things to his insides, that made him feel connected to her in a way he had never realized possible. Even the knowledge gained through telepathy did not produce these wondrous results. Nor did the physical responses provoked in both of them by the strength of their common destiny. No, this was different.
    She cocked her head again. “Did anyone ever tell you what a beautiful smile you have? It changes your whole face.”
    Erik basked in the warmth of her smile, and the warmth of the little cat curled up against him.
    For once, he ignored every Zalian restriction he had lived under since birth, and just let it happen.
    His smile grew wider still.
    After a final swipe with his roller, Erik stood back and surveyed the fifty feet of wall now covered with a second coat of dark green paint.
    With a damp, sweaty arm, he pushed a lock of hair out of his face.
    He