She sat, and he sank down next to her. Mira tried to slide away from him, but he held her by the upper arm. "Stay still," he ordered. "I'm not going to hurt you.”

He reached up and pushed her hair away in order to examine her bruise. She flinched. "It's all right. I just want to take a look at it.”

She kept her wary gaze on him as he took a closer look at the bruise. He covered the injury with his hand and felt his palm heat up. Concentrating on the area, he did his best to manipulate the cells to regenerate faster. He couldn't do much for her, but he could do a little. Healing, ironically, was in the realm of fire.

"It's hot," she gasped. "What are you doing?”

"I'm almost done.”

He took his hand away and noted with approval that the bruise already looked a little better. "How much do you know about your parents?”

"My parents?”

"Yes, you know, the people who created you? They died when you were just a toddler, leaving you to be raised by your godmother.”

"I know who they were," she snapped. "I know when and how they died. How do you know that?”

He waited a moment before answering. "It's my job to know about the witches who are placed in my care.”

She stared at him for a moment, clearly registering the word witch. "Oh, you're insane! You think... the Wicca... in the restaurant.... Hell." She shot up, yanked free of his grasp, and went for the door.

He grabbed her around the waist before she got very far and held her against his chest. She felt fragile against him and he fought to not underestimate his strength and hurt her. "You need to sit down and listen to what I have to say.”

Mira struggled against him, but he only tightened his hold until she stilled. "I don't have to listen to anything you have to say, you crazy son of a bitch!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Jack wrestled her back to the bed and sat her down. He wished there was an easier way to do this, to make her understand that he was on her side.

"Screw this." She bolted again, and he caught her around the waist again, swinging her back around to land on the bed.

"Please. Stay. Still.”

She glared up at him. Her head had to be pounding by now. She also had to know she had no chance against him. He had a lot more muscle and weight to throw around than she did. She couldn't beat him in a physical fight. The ironic thing was that she could best him with her magick; she just didn't know how to wield it.