Pippa was openly crying now, tears wetting her cheeks and trailing down her neck. He was calling forth vivid memories of what she'd experienced. She knew what had happened to those other women too--it was hard to forget the cold, moist weight of the human brain Larch placed in her naked lap. Hard to forget the smells and the blood stains, the screams he forced her to listen to...oh, Pippa knew what sort of fate she had nearly met.

Rory was telling her things that Larch told her, the hair, the clothes, CD, finger--her abductor made certain Pippa understood that these were all 'gifts' for the musician. Confirming suspicions about things she dared never question the Irishman about, that there was no way she'd have survived if he and his family weren't the fantastic beings they were. And he was telling her things she never knew. Rory could get inside a person's head, hear their thoughts and feel their emotions.

Did he ever do that to her? Invade her privacy? Manipulate her? She wanted to ask but no, she wouldn't. Couldn't. Didn't want to know. She had to believe there was something sacred between them still, a trust no matter how damaged. She didn't want to be suspicious of him.

She did move away from him, lying down and curling up against her pillow. She had to, she needed something to hold onto and with the horror Rory was speaking of, there was no comfort coming from him. "Ro..."

There were no words from her either.