Looking at Jim Kirk, jeans bloodstained black, runes carved into the metal of a serrated knife in hand, and wearing a vicious, feral smile, Spock thinks he finally is beginning to understand the mystery of his mother.
Amanda Grayson appeared quite normal to the other residents on Vulcan and Earth. Incredibly intelligent, as due a Vulcan's wife, charming, and a bit quiet, she was exactly what everyone expected her to be. She was a loving mother, a devoted wife, and a brilliant teacher.
Sometimes, however, her eyes would take a yellowish glint, or she would say something or move in a way that made Spock's long suppressed illogical instincts scream. His father, he later believed, did not see those oddities that sent a shiver of alarm up his spine, oddities that made Spock wonder if the human woman in front of him was his mother, or an imposter to the warm, loving woman that had given birth to him.
First, were the earrings. Dangling silver things "silver is important Spock- more precious than any other metal," in the shapes of childish stars with a circle around them.
One of his professors identified them as superstitious religious symbols of the Terran Dark Ages, his tone as snide and contemptuous as a Vulcan's could.
Spock felt the forewarning tingle go up his spine, the warning whisper against his neck, and his dreamy, scatterbrained mother's lovely eyes sharpened into broken glass. Warm brown eyes gained a vicious awareness, reminding Spock of a cobra he had seen hunting a mouse in a terran zoo.
Amanda had straightened, eyes glinting, and lips curving in a way that sent a cold chill through him. "Only to those who view them as such, professor. Your information is only partially correct. The Devil's Trap- not a 'pentacle' is protection, a safe guard for the right kind of someone" Lips widening further to show white teeth as her lips pulled in a smile Spock wouldn't see on another human being until he met James Tiberius Kirk, she continued, "Though, if you're the wrong kind of someone," her lips widened further, "they are a trap."
She had then laughed, and turned to him and said, "Come along, Spock. Your father will be expecting us for supper." It had not been his mother's request that had made him move. It had been those sharp glass eyes, burning like a broken whiskey bottle hit by sunshine that sent a cold shiver down his back though his body temperature was regulated and he was dressed adequately.
That had been the first time Spock had ever seen that dark, dangerous, and eerie part of Amanda Grayson slink out under the guise of sharp white teeth against red lips and yellow-brown eyes. It would not be the last.