The breeze washed over Francesca's face as she looked up at the night sky. A thousand stars twinkled and glittered overhead. She inhaled to take in the crisp clean air, washing the hospital smell from her lungs. Gabriel walked unhurriedly through the streets, his stride slowing to match hers perfectly. He didn't talk, didn't demand answers, didn't dictate to her. He simply walked beside her, asking nothing of her.

She unerringly found the path to her favorite place, turning down narrow twisting lanes until the paved streets gave way to old-fashioned cobblestone. She followed the pattern up a small hill to a bridge spanning a small lake. It was only a walking bridge and at this late hour, no one was on it. They had the large park and the lake to themselves. Francesca walked out to the center of the bridge and stopped to lean against the railing. "It seems as if I always have to thank you for something." She said it quietly, without looking at him. Instead, she stared out over the lake.

The water was shimmering almost black in the moonlight. She could hear the fish jumping every now and then. The sounds of the water lapping at the banks and the fish leaping were somehow reassuring and soothing. Francesca smiled over her shoulder at Gabriel. "I come here quite often."

"When you feel alone." He said it softly.

She turned back to the water, her smile fading. "I guess you read that in my memories."

He leaned down to find a round, flat rock and skipped it expertly across the surface of the water. "No, I have not had a great deal of time to read your memories; I am still attempting to get to know the woman you are now. As I am still a stranger to you and you have commitments in your heart elsewhere, I felt it would be wrong to invade your privacy more than absolutely necessary."

Francesca found laughter inexplicably spilling out her lips. "Invading my privacy is sometimes a necessity?"

"I am, after all, a Carpathian male and your lifemate. I cannot change what I am; certain things are necessary for my peace of mind. But I am trying not to intrude where I am not wanted." He stood tall and lonely with the wind blowing his long black hair around his broad shoulders. He was not asking for approval, only stating a fact.

Francesca studied his face, the way the moon bathed it in silvery light. He was very handsome, his angular face that of a man, not a boy - his mouth was sensual, his eyes by turns smoldering with passion or as cold as ice. His eyelashes made her smile. They were long and black and heavy. Any woman would envy him those incredible lashes. He held himself aloof, careful not to pressure her. She liked him for that. She felt pressure everywhere, from all directions, and she was glad that Gabriel simply wanted to keep her company.

"I needed a place that wasn't exactly part of the city. I pretend I'm in the mountains. Sometimes I can hear the wolves calling to one another." She brushed back her cascading hair but the wind tugged at it playfully. "I really miss home. Just once I would like to go back there, although I've lived in Paris for so long now, I'm not certain I would enjoy it as much as I remember it."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. It has been centuries since I was there. The people were uneasy with my presence and once Lucian turned, I could do no other than follow where he led."

"As you have done all your life," Francesca pointed out without rancor. "I am proud of you, Gabriel. I know I have not behaved as well as I should have, but in my defense, your sudden appearance was quite a surprise and fit in with none of my plans. In my way I have always supported your fight for our people. I accepted your commitment and knew you incapable of shirking your responsibility. I tried to do something with my life that counted also. I never wanted you to think I had wasted my life." She looked down at her hands. "There was so much time for me to be alone."

"Were you afraid?" He asked it gently.

The tone of his voice turned her heart over. "Often, especially at first. I knew I had to disappear for the sake of the other males of our race. I did so during the terrible wars when so many of our people were lost to us. It took great planning. I was still quite young then, a mere fledgling. I was afraid Gregori would discover me and bring me to Mikhail. It was my greatest fear, yet sometimes I was so alone I prayed they would find me and then I was ashamed of my selfishness."

"I am sorry I put you in such a terrible position." His voice was sincere, contrite. He looked sad, his mesmerizing eyes revealing his inner turmoil.

Francesca touched his mind; she couldn't stop herself from doing so even though she was secretly ashamed of herself for doubting him. She needed to know whether he was speaking the truth or saying what he thought she wanted to hear. She examined his mind carefully. She was nowhere near his age, nor did she have his skills and power, but she was no fledgling to be tricked. Gabriel felt genuine sorrow for his part in causing her loneliness. He knew he could not change what he had done - too many would have suffered - but he wished it could have been different. He had been alone in a stark black void. With each kill the darkness had spread over his soul, forever seeking to claim him. It had been an endless battle.

Francesca gasped when she realized he had almost lost the war with the beast. It had occurred around the same time she had made her decision to attempt to become human. Had her decision influenced the outcome of his fight? Had there been a connection and she had inadvertently made his life more difficult?

"Francesca," he said softly, gently, "has it occurred to you that my near disaster with the beast may have influenced your decision? Why do you insist on blaming yourself? I was the one who sentenced you to a solitary existence. I would not want you to feel one bit of blame. It is not yours. Even if such a connection existed - "

"And it probably did," she interjected.

Gabriel nodded his concession. "It could be so. But there can be no blame attached to you. Not ever. I am a Carpathian male. I lasted much longer than the majority of our males and that was probably due mostly to you, and the fact that you were somewhere in the world. My soul knew it. So all that time you gave me solace and kept me strong."

"I'm a thousand years younger than you," she said and then burst out laughing. "Living so long in the human world, thinking in human terms, do you know how silly that sounds? We cannot possibly be compatible. You're way too old for me."

Gabriel found himself laughing, too. There was warmth in his heart, a genuine joy in her company. He found comfort, a soothing tranquility he had never experienced before. For so long he had felt nothing at all. Now there was light and laughter and vivid colors and textures and life itself to be lived.

Francesca.

She had given that to him. "I think that remark borders on the insubordinate. Youth can be so impetuous."

"Do you think?" Francesca bent down and found a flat round rock, her fingers closing around it, the pad of her thumb rubbing back and forth over it. "I'm pretty good at this. You're not the only one that can skip rocks. I'll bet I can put one of these across the lake with ten skips."

Gabriel's eyebrow shot up. "I cannot believe my ears. The arrogance of youth." Francesca shook her head. "Not youth, woman power."

He made a sound somewhere between laughter and a growl of derision. "Woman power? I have never heard of such a thing. Woman magic maybe, but never woman power. What exactly is it?" he teased.

"You're asking for a sound thrashing, Gabriel," she cautioned. "I'm a champion." He nodded toward the lake. "Let me see what I am getting myself into."

"You want a preview? I don't think so. Let's make a wager. If I win, I get the sleeping chamber. If you win, you get it."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, his black eyes laughing. "You are attempting to trick me into something I will regret for the rest of my days. If we must wager, the prize will have to be something other than the sleeping chamber. If I lose I will brush your hair at every rising for a month. If you lose, you will brush mine for the same length of time."

"What kind of dumb bet is that?" Francesca demanded, laughing. She couldn't help herself. He was far too good-looking for his own good. His black eyes were dancing and in spite of her determination not to be drawn in by him, she thought him terribly sexy. The moment the adjective entered her head, she pushed it out, but betraying color flushed her skin.

She was not going to share her body with him again. It had nothing to do with love and everything to do with chemistry and Carpathian heat. She wanted someone who wanted her for herself, not because he had to take her. Not because he had no choice in the matter. Just one time, before she left the world, she would like to be loved. Really loved. For herself.

"Francesca." That was all he said. Her name. There was an ache in his voice. Velvet seduction. Black magic.

She closed her eyes against unexpected tears. "Don't, Gabriel. Don't pretend with me. I am no longer human. I know your thoughts."

"You were never human, honey. Perhaps on the verge, but not wholly human. You belong in my world. You have done things no other has done and I salute you, but you were made to be the other half of my soul. Do you really think I do not love and honor you for yourself? That I would not know you better than the good doctor or any other human or Carpathian for that matter? I see into your heart and mind. I should have been there all those years, protecting you, caring for you, building a family with you. Punish me, blame me, I deserve it, but do not think you cannot be or will not be loved for yourself."

He was breaking her heart with the sincerity of his words. She couldn't touch his mind; if she did, her composure would shatter. She had been through so much - discovering he was alive, their blood exchange, which had taken the sun from her for all time, the earth-shattering experience of making love with him, the terrible ordeal of the two patients in the hospital. Brice. Thompson. All of it.

He moved then. Glided. He was power and coordination combined, so fluid he took her breath away. He moved like an animal, a great wolf stalking silently toward its prey. She closed her eyes as his hand wrapped around the nape of her neck. Exquisitely gentle. Possessive. "I am not trying to take over your life, I only want to share it. I ask for a chance. Only that. A chance. You had not planned to end your life for several years. Share those years with me. Let me try to make up for the wrong I did you."

"Don't pity me, Gabriel. I couldn't stand it if you pitied me. I've had a good life, remarkable really, for a woman of our species." She made a small movement of retreat.

His hand tightened around the nape of her neck. "You are a beautiful woman, Francesca, with many talents. There is nothing to pity. In any case, we need not discuss this matter just now. You have had to face far too many difficult situations lately. The last thing you need is to worry about how a stranger feels about you and what you do or do not owe him." His hand moved gently over the silken strands of her hair in a small caress. "I know that is what I am to you right now: a stranger. Give me the chance to become your friend."

The touch of his hand sent a swirling heat spiraling through her. Maybe it was the fact that he realized she needed space and cared enough to give it to her. "I think that might be a good idea," she replied. Warning bells were shrieking at her. He was entirely too handsome, too courtly. Too everything. What if he managed to steal her heart, after all? She was tired and wanted to go home.

Gabriel suppressed a sudden surge of triumph he was ashamed of feeling. He smiled at her, a flash of white teeth that softened the hard edge of his mouth. "You did not answer me. Are you willing to wager?"

She nodded, desperate to change the subject. "Fine, I'll make the wager with you, but only because you have never learned about real woman power." This time when she moved away from him, he allowed her to retreat. Francesca studiously avoided looking at him, concentrating instead on the surface of the lake and her rock. With a quick flick of her wrist she sent the rock skipping across the lake. Ten skips exactly.

She couldn't help grinning up at Gabriel triumphantly. He took his time finding the perfect stone. His large hand shielded its exact shape from her. "I have to skip it eleven times to win?"

She nodded solemnly. "Absolutely."

He smiled again. This time it was definitely the predator's smile. Wicked. Sexy. Altogether too tempting. Francesca tilted her chin and forced her fascinated gaze away from his perfect body to the shining surface of the lake. Why did he have to look so utterly masculine? His body was well muscled, hard, and looked way too good. "I'm waiting," she said, all too aware of how close he was standing to her. How he smelled. The taste of him. She wanted to groan but instead, she looked steadfastly out over the water, pretending she wasn't in the least affected by his close proximity.

The rock spun out of his hand so fast, she heard it buzz through the air. It skimmed across the water, hop after hop like a leapfrog racing across the water. It went on and on until it had crossed the lake and had hopped onto the opposite shore. "Well," he mused softly, a masculine taunt in his voice, "I would say that about wraps things up. Twenty-two skips all the way to the other side." He sounded very complacent. "I believe you get to be my slave and brush my hair for me at each rising."

Francesca shook her head. "What I believe is, you rigged this wager. You did something to win."

"It is called practice. I have spent much time skipping rocks across the lake."

Francesca laughed softly. "You are not telling the truth, Gabriel. I don't believe you ever skipped a rock in your life until now. You tricked me."

"You think?" He asked it innocently. Too innocently.

"You know you did. Just to win a silly bet. I can't believe you."

He reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, making her heart leap wildly. "It was not just a silly bet, honey, it was a way to get you to brush my hair. No one has ever done such a thing for me and I think I crave attention." He rubbed the bridge of his nose again and grinned at her almost boyishly. "I asked Lucian to do so once and he threatened to beat me to a bloody pulp." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Some things are just not worth it, you know."

"You're nuts," Francesca decided, but she was laughing, unable to help herself. "Fine, I'll brush your hair," she conceded, her fingers itching to bury themselves in the silken strands. She was unaware that she was agreeing to far more than brushing his hair. He would be spending the days with her in the sleeping chamber. They would retire together.

Gabriel was very much aware of that fact. He was making progress. "What are we going to do with this young lady of ours, Francesca? Little Miss Skyler. We can insure that her mind heals, but we cannot remove all scars unless we empty her memories. It might be that lessening the impact of them is best. We can provide her with schooling, clothes, everything she needs, emotional support, but we cannot be there for her during certain hours of the day. Have you considered what we will need to do to cover those times?"

Francesca reached behind her for the railing, intending to pull herself up on it. Gabriel's large hands spanned her waist and lifted her effortlessly, seating her on the structure. It was amazing to her that he knew what she wanted almost before she did. The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. She had not shared her thoughts, her mind, herself in so long, she had forgotten what it was like.

Temptation.

It whispered over her, tugged at her heartstrings.

"I know, I know, it was rash of me to promise I would be there for her, but to be honest, I had been able to walk in the sun for some years and I didn't remember that I could no longer do so. I can't bear the idea of Skyler going to some place where they won't give her love and affection. She needs that, the support she should have had. I shared her life." She looked up at him in sudden wonder, in comprehension. "Both of us did. I know I can feel the love she needs. Can you?"

Gabriel nodded slowly. "She is a child, Francesca. We can do no other than offer her our love and protection. No one else will ever understand her or understand the enormity of what she has suffered. I do not think we can turn her over to others."

Francesca let out her breath in a rush of relief. She hadn't realized she had been holding it, waiting for his answer. "We both agree. Now we just have to figure out what to do with her."

He shrugged powerful shoulders. "In your mind is the idea that your lawyer will handle the necessary legal actions to gain custody of her. We will take her home with us. It will be necessary to find someone to aid us in her care. I seem to recall there was one family in our homeland that had humans caring for the household. The humans were exceptionally loyal to them. It was several centuries ago. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to find out about them. I was going through various things you had on the computer and this seems like a possible use for such a machine."

Francesca heard her own laughter. Carefree. Happy. It startled her. "You just want an excuse to use the computer. A techno junkie, that's what you are."

He grinned at her. "You have to admit, it is a good idea. There must be some of our people who remember this family and can tell us what they did. If not, we can always take blood from human servants and command them to do our bidding. It is not the way I would prefer to proceed, but it is a viable possibility. We can offer protection in return."

Gabriel had been leaning against the rail beside her. Now he straightened slowly, stretching like a lazy cat. There was no real change in his expression, yet all at once Francesca found she was shivering with fear. Something about him had changed completely. His hands settled around her waist and he lifted her to the bridge.

"We are being watched, honey. It is not Lucian, and for that I am most grateful." "The undead is here."

She made it a statement. She felt it now, the creeping evil spreading like a hideous stain across the air.

"What can we do?"

She had always managed to hide her presence from the vicious killers. Now she was out in the open and it frightened her. She had seen the evidence of their depravity and it sickened her.

"The first thing is to get you to safety. You are a Carpathian woman. You will be his target."

Hishand was at the nape of her neck, soothing the tension out of her. He was bending over her protectively, like a lover, his mouth very close to hers.

Francesca knew it was all show, but it still made her feel cherished. She had a sudden wild urge to cling to him, to his strength and tranquility. The vampire in no way disturbed him. Gabriel exuded complete confidence in his ability to destroy the creature.

"I will draw him out to open ground. When I do, wait until I am certain there is only the one. When I know, I will alert you. You will dissolve into molecules, very tiny, untraceable by any but the best of our hunters. Go to the house and set safeguards. I will stay with you in a mind merge unless I must break away for the kill. Do not try to touch my mind unless you are in danger. There is no need for you to experience such violence."

Hismouth brushed hers. Velvet soft. He found the corner of her mouth and lingered for just a moment as if he was savoring the feel and taste of her.

Francesca reminded herself it was all for show. Her body didn't need to burst into flame and her heart didn't need to somersault so treacherously.

"Tell me what to do to help you. I don't want to leave you alone to fight this thing."

He laughed softly, his warm breath stirring the tendrils of hair at the vulnerable line of her neck. It warmed him that she offered when he could feel her fear beating inside him. He couldn't help himself, he knew he was taking unfair advantage of the situation, using it as an excuse to touch her, to kiss her, to inch forward his claim on her. He told himself to take it slow, not to push her too hard. If only she hadn't been so kissable, it would make his plan much easier. A sneak attack. Surround her and move in and take over before she realized what was happening.

"I am an ancient hunter, sweetheart. I will have no problem dispatching this unclean one. "

He kissed her forehead, infinitely gentle, reluctantly releasing her.

Gabriel turned and walked away from her to the end of the bridge. He glanced up at the sky. "Come out, small one. Come out and face the one you have challenged so openly." His voice was so soft and gentle and compelling, it crawled inside one's head and pushed and pushed until there was only one recourse. Obedience. Gabriel moved farther away from Francesca, toward the open grassy area. "You have asked for the justice of our people, unclean one, and I can do no other than oblige you. Come to me."

Francesca could not take her eyes from the ancient warrior. He stood tall and broad-shouldered, his hair flowing in the slight breeze. His face was stern yet gentle. He seemed relaxed, yet gave the impression of immense power. His voice was mesmerizing, his manner confident. He looked invincible. She gasped as she saw the vampire emerge from the thick bushes to Gabriel's left. The creature inched forward, fighting every step of the way, growling and spitting, hissing with hatred. She had never seen a vampire so close and he was hideous. The eyes were sunken and red-rimmed. The teeth were rotted, jagged, and stained a dark color. The flesh on him seemed to sag as if it didn't quite fit.

More than the looks of the man, it was the cunning, crafty hatred in the repulsive creature that frightened her. Francesca, as far away from him as she was, could still sense the stench of depravity that surrounded him. She made herself look at the creature, made herself feel its evil. It was important to realize just what Gabriel had faced his entire life. This monster. How many of them? How often? How many had he known personally, grown up with before they had turned? She had thought her life difficult and solitary, yet staring at the undead, she began to understand just what his life must have been like.

All those centuries she had viewed him as a hero, a revered legendary protector of immortals and mortals alike. Now she recognized just what being a hunter entailed. His own people had feared his power and skills. Males would have kept away from him, fearing he might later have to hunt and destroy them. He could never afford to have friends. Worse, his beloved brother had become a vampire and Gabriel had been forced to track him, battling him again and again over the centuries.

"I can help." "You can do as I instructed. I am in more danger having to worry about protecting you. He will seek to use you. When he realizes he cannot defeat me, he will try to destroy you in retaliation."

Hesent her a wave of warmth.

"Thank you, Francesca. I will join you soon at home."

Gabriel turned his attention to the vampire, who, free from the enthrallment of his voice, was beginning to stalk him. Gabriel smiled, his teeth immaculately white. "I see that you are in a hurry to have your sentence carried out. I am of ancient blood, a true defender of our people. I am Gabriel. You know of me, you have grown up on the tales of my exploits. There is no way to defeat one such as I. Come, accept your sentence quietly, with dignity, remembering the great Carpathian you once were."

The vampire hissed again, flames leaping in his red eyes, his feet dragging him ever closer despite his resolve to attack on his own terms. The sound of Gabriel's voice was so pure and true it grated on him, actually caused him pain. He could not face that voice any more than he could have looked at a reflection of himself in the mirror. He could not ignore the compulsion woven in the notes of the voice; he had no choice but to move ever closer to the hunter. The words undermined his confidence in his own ability to battle and destroy. Who could defeat such a hunter? How many others had fallen before him to this centuries-old warrior?

The vampire shook his head hard, chanting in his mind in an attempt to counteract the spell the hunter had ensnared him in. No matter how hard he tried to break away, his feet continued to walk forward. The terrible voice continued, low and pure and very gentle. "You are not capable of denying me. I forbid you to shift your shape. You will come to me and receive the justice of our true Prince."

Gabriel didn't move, not one step. He stood quietly, hands at his sides, his face portraying no emotion. No rage. No remorse. Only his eyes were alive, smoldering with intensity. Relentless. Merciless. The watchful eyes of a predator. They gleamed with menace, with ferocity. Still, the vampire could not stop his approach. He was snarling now, his legs dragging as he thrashed and fought to keep from moving forward, to keep from obeying that soft, gentle voice. The voice of death. It went on and on. Soft and persuasive, persistent, compelling.

Francesca knew she should obey Gabriel. She dissolved into a fine mist, and moved farther away from the combatants. She had never seen anything as terrifying as the vampire. He exuded evil, yet Gabriel stood calmly, tall and straight, unbelievably beautiful in his light and truth. She saw him as an angel with a sword, a dark guardian of the gate, defender of those less powerful. He took her breath away. And she was truly proud of him. Proud of his decision to make the sacrifices that he had.

The vampire did his best to evaporate, found he could not do so. It was as if his cells and tissue would no longer respond to his commands. The hunter had somehow managed to ensnare him, to trap him with his voice so that his flesh-and-blood body would only respond to the purity of those notes, to that perfect tone.

Furious, the creature turned its hideous face back toward Gabriel, its head swaying back and forth like a reptile's, his eyes glowing with fury. A long slow hiss escaped between his jagged, broken teeth. Over Gabriel's head a large tree branch cracked ominously and plummeted to earth.

Francesca felt her heart slam painfully, the air catch in her lungs, but Gabriel merely lifted his hand so the branch was deflected away from him, flung off to the side a good distance from where he remained so calmly. "You are young to have chosen such a path. Losing one's soul is for the aged and weak, yet you made your choice so soon. Why is that?"

"The only chance of salvation any of us have is to acquire a woman. The Prince has chosen his favorites to give the women to. There is no hope for the rest of us unless we take one for ourselves." The undead surreptitiously dropped his hand to his side to see whether he could shape-shift if he concentrated on one area of his body. His arm rippled with fur, his nails lengthening.

There was a rush of wind, unexpected, off the surface of the lake. The wind hit the creature full in the chest, driving deep, a heavy blow more heard than felt. The vampire blinked and stared at Gabriel, who was standing directly in front of him, his arm extended at full length. Shock spread across the undead's face. He looked down, wondering why he couldn't see the hand on the end of Gabriel's arm. It was buried deep in the wall of his chest.

There was a loud sucking sound as Gabriel extracted the vampire's heart, stepping away at the same time. The vampire screamed and screamed, the sound hideous. Tainted blood spewed into the air like a geyser. The creature reached for the hunter as he fell, his body flopping helplessly. Above their heads lightning arced from cloud to cloud, slammed to earth in a bluish white streak of pure energy. It incinerated the heart even as it bathed the hunter's hands clean of the poisonous blood.

Gabriel's movements were graceful and flowing, revealing power and coordination like those of a dancer, a warrior. He lifted his hand once more and directed the bolt to the body of the hapless creature. It turned to ash at once, disintegrating before his eyes.

He turned then slowly, a lonely figure against the night sky, his face in the shadows as he looked at the spot where Francesca remained. She shimmered into solid form, her large eyes locked on his. "Are you all right?" She moved fast, a mere blur as she came close to him. Her hand found his, her fingers lacing through his.

At once he felt peace stealing into him, deep within his tortured soul. She had a healing power unlike any other he had ever experienced. He had taken a life, one of so many. Gabriel had dedicated the remainder of his life to hunting his twin. Over the years he had chased Lucian almost exclusively, only rarely stopping to destroy the undead he came across. It had been years and it was the first kill he had made since finding his lifemate. He felt emotion. Not guilt exactly. He accepted his duty as a sacred responsibility. But the taking of a life in front of someone like Francesca bothered him. She was so pure, so compassionate, so good. She had been healing for all the centuries that he had been destroying.

Gabriel avoided her enormous black eyes, the innocence there. Without emotion, it was far easier to face those around him, those who feared him. He was used to the whispers, to the way people moved out of his way. He was used to the fear in their minds and hearts. He was needed, yet never accepted.

Her small hand moved up his arm, a curiously intimate gesture that left him weak and warm inside. She was crawling inside him. Winding her way deep into his very soul. He was unprepared for that. He knew now just what a lifemate was. How important she was. Intellectually he had known Carpathian women were the light to their men's darkness. He had accepted Francesca and what must be between them. Their union meant not only his continued survival, but also guaranteed he would not join Lucian in the ranks of the undead.

For that alone he had respected Francesca. Wanted Francesca. He was totally unprepared for the jealous streak that made it difficult not to dispose of Brice. He was totally unprepared for the savage demands his body made when he was near her. More than anything, he was unprepared for his heart melting when she was sad or hurt or felt tired. He had not counted on his reaction to her at all. He wanted to hear her voice all the time, watch her smile, see the way her face lit up, her eyes so soft and melting, so beautiful. He thought about her far too much.

"Gabriel." Francesca's voice whispered over him like a soft summer breeze. At once he felt sweat beading on his body in reaction. "You asked me to leave this place and I should have, but please don't feel ashamed or embarrassed that you had to do such an important job in front of me. You think your talent less than mine."

"You save lives, I destroy them." Just the touch of her fingers was a miracle to him. The scent of her, clean and fresh and feminine. He had never noticed that about women before. The way they smelled; yet now she filled his lungs and he wanted to always have her there. "I am not certain killing is considered a talent."

"The undead are no longer alive. You know that. They have chosen to lose that which makes them live. Vampires are monsters without equal, merciless, living only for depravity and the rush of the kill. Without you to stand guard, Gabriel, there would be no way to hide the existence of our people. Even now, a small minority of humans hates the very idea of us. They have a society of people, professionals and others, who hunt us down to kill us. It seems to me that without you, our people would long ago have been hunted to extinction."

A small, pleased smile escaped before he could stop it. She had a way about her. There was no doubt in his mind why Brice wanted her. It wasn't because she was a healer, as Brice was. It wasn't because her Carpathian beauty drew males to her. It was the entire package. Francesca.

His Francesca. "You give me far too much credit," he answered her softly. "Thank you for that. Thank you for making a difficult situation easy. I did not expect to feel this way." He flashed her another smile. "These emotions are difficult to control."

She tilted her head to look up at him. It should have been declared a sin to look as good as he did. He made butterfly wings brush at her stomach, made her heart somersault at the most unexpected times. His eyes could create a firestorm in her with just one smoldering, brooding look. He could melt a woman, any woman, at twenty paces. Francesca cleared her throat, trying hard not to blush, suddenly remembering he was more than likely a shadow in her mind, reading her all too intimate thoughts. "We should start for home."

"You want to walk or do you feel like flying?" He asked it gently, unwilling to influence her decision one way or another. She always chose the human way. She would have allowed herself to be struck by Skyler's monster of a father in order to preserve her way of life. Her image. He wanted her to accept that she was Carpathian. Wholly Carpathian. It was too soon for that, he knew, but a sign that she was weakening just a little would give him hope.

Francesca linked their fingers once more. "We have plenty of time before the sun rises. Perhaps we should walk and discuss further how to manage Skyler."