He watched small flecks collect on her eyelashes, knew she’d grow ever more beautiful to him as the years passed. Reaching for the gloves he’d slipped into his coat pockets before leaving to pick her up for dinner, he said, “Put these on.” They were her size, ones he’d bought because she was so often without gloves.

Tilting her head, she pinned him with the dark eyes that saw too much. “I’ve realized something about you, Janvier.”

He waited to hear what she’d say.

“You like to take care of people.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He couldn’t change his elemental nature, couldn’t unmake that part of him.

“No.” A spreading warmth deep within, Ashwini accepted the gloves, tugged them on over chilled fingers. It was odd to be taken care of, to be valued in such a way, but now that she’d conquered her initial confusion and fear at his tenderness, it felt like a gift. “Most hunters can take care of themselves.”

“So can most vampires of my strength,” he said with the confidence that made him so attractive. “That doesn’t mean I would not be delighted if you showed a care for this Cajun’s hide.”

Ashwini thought of the way he’d looked at her after the kiss in the bar, took in the faint half smile that didn’t match the shadows in his eyes, and knew it was all going wrong. In trying to protect him, she’d rejected him. “Janvier?”

“Yes?”

“I’m keeping a secret from you, a huge, terrible, bad thing.” There, it was out.

He stopped in the shadow of a private club, his expression grim. “You won’t tell me this secret?”

“I can’t.” It made her too angry, too afraid of how it would change everything between them, the cowardice closing up her throat. “But you have a right to know, and once you find out, you’ll hate me for allowing this relationship to go so far.”

“Ashwini, I’m yours.” Utter disbelief intermingled with temper. “Hating you is an impossibility.”

Her already brittle heart threatened to shatter. “You don’t know what I’m keeping from you.”

“I don’t need to know—and neither one of us has ever been in control of the thing between us. It has its own stubborn, relentless will.” He thrust one hand into his hair, began walking again, his next words so angry the heat of them seemed to melt the snow. “The only way it would die would be if you repudiated me.”

Stopping again, the two of them now on the fringe of the Quarter, he faced her. “Is that what you want to do?” His tone was raw, his hands fisted. “To tell me that you don’t want me?”

“You’re an idiot.” Hauling him to her by gripping the open sides of his jacket, she kissed him in frustrated fury. “I’m trying to protect you.” She released him, strode off ahead.

He caught up to her, his eyes bright with temper and passion both. “Well, don’t. I’m a big vampire. I can handle any secret you have as long as you’re mine.”

“Damn you.” She slipped her left hand into his right. “You’ll regret this.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers, the hold blatantly proprietary. “I will never regret you!”

Ashwini would never regret him, either.

And she knew. No more secrets, no more stealing time.

She had to tell him, show him, everything.

Forcing her mind off the heavy weight of what was to come, she said, “I shot Ransom a note with Felicity’s name in case his street contacts know anything. I also fed her name to the computer tech on duty so he can troll the databases.”

Vivek had been a lone ranger for a long time in the position, available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He’d known everything, or so it seemed, but he was one of a kind. “How’s Vivek?” she asked Janvier. “Have you seen him?” The guild hunter had chosen vampirism not for eternal life but because it would—eventually—give him back the use of his paralyzed body.

“No.” Expression dark yet, Janvier said, “He asked for privacy during his transformation, and Elena has made sure of it. I don’t think she’s seen him, either.”

She could understand why Vivek didn’t want his friends to see him while he was weak and defenseless; paralyzed or not, he’d always been a force to be reckoned with. “I guess I just want to know someone has a careful eye on him. I don’t know any human who’s been Made after suffering such devastating long-term injuries.”

“Keir himself is monitoring his progress.”

Ashwini had met Keir in the aftermath of the battle. She’d been stitched up by human doctors, but the angelic healer had unexpectedly dropped by her apartment two days after she’d made Janvier leave. With uptilted eyes of warm brown set in a delicately beautiful face, his black hair sleek and his body slender as a boy’s, Keir had appeared unutterably young and yet there’d been a wisdom in his gaze that told her his was a soul old and noble in its peace.

“It is past time I came to see you,” he’d said with a small incline of his head.

Bemused, she’d invited him in, offered him a cup of herbal tea rather than coffee.

His response had been a smile and the words, “Yes, of course that is what I would like.”

The most unfathomable thing was that she hadn’t touched Keir even once, and yet she’d known he’d enjoy the tea, just as she knew he was exhausted from the work he’d been doing with the wounded at the Tower. So she’d offered him a place to rest and, to her surprise, he’d accepted, closing his eyes and dozing quietly in her favorite old armchair.