“Which bit?” she inquired. “The part where I’m capable of it, or the part where I do, have done it? I’m capable of it. It’s part of what being an empath is, and I’m pretty powerful. I can completely control someone’s emotions.” She sighed, and looked down at her hands. “I don’t. I only ever — in self-defense.”
“I’m capable of ripping a person to shreds with just my claws, but I haven’t done it. I wouldn’t unless you were in danger,” Isaac stated softly, leaning down to rest his chin in his hands, eyes fixated on hers. “I trust you, okay?”
She laughed, a little painfully. “You are unbelievable, Isaac Lahey. Unbelievable.” One thumb rubbed against her wrist, over and over, sliding over the faded, pale scars that could only be seen in just the right light. Marks left from the days right after her ability had awoken, shocked into terrible life by the events of 9/11. “Now you understand why I trust you so easily.”