“Well, hurry up then,” he growled, still retaining possession of her arm. He loosened his hold because she had picked up her pace and was walking willingly with him. “Honestly, Francesca, you want everything your own way. You didn’t want to talk to me about our friendship. You probably wanted to discuss your little patient.”
“I do want to find out when I can bring Skyler home. She’s anxious and bored in the hospital. And a reporter got into her room. She was very frightened.” She kept her voice reasonable as she walked beside him, studying him intently. If she used her power, the vibrations of it would scatter into the night and draw unwanted attention. She would have to be persuasive to get him to her home, where she could control him and help him without the threat of interference.
“If she was so darn frightened, why didn’t she tell me about it?” he demanded, angry all over again. “I’m her doctor, not you, not Gabriel. If she has a complaint, she can voice it to me. We know she can talk. Not that she talks to anyone but you.”
“Brice,” Francesca protested, slowing her pace again. He seemed to be pulling her at breakneck speed, almost as if he was so enraged he didn’t know what he was doing. “Slow down, I’m going to fall. Do you have a pressing appointment somewhere? Let’s go back to my house. I’ll make us some tea, your favorite kind, and we can talk.”
He instantly slowed his pace, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know what got into me. It isn’t good for that girl to depend so heavily on you. She won’t talk to the counselors we send in, she won’t speak to the nurses, or to me, just you.”
“She has been severely traumatized, Brice. You know that. There’s no quick fix for her pain. I’m taking it one step at a time with her. Once I have her settled at home, I will get her a counselor. I will follow your advice. You know I respect you as a doctor. I’m sorry we’ve gotten so off track together, but our feelings for each other are genuine. I still want us to remain friends. You might not be able to accept my friendship now, but perhaps you will in time. Meanwhile, we can still keep a professional relationship going, maintain that connection.” Francesca tried to be hopeful. She put a gentle hand on his wrist to restrain him, to get him to come with her. She was really afraid for him now, certain he was losing control of himself.
Brice shook his head, turned onto a faint trail through thick shrubbery. Francesca felt as if she was in a maze.
Now the feeling of impending doom was growing. Overhead the storm clouds were dark and heavy. The wind was picking up so that it blew her hair into a wild mess. She caught at it, twisted and clipped it at the nape of her neck. With the wind came the scent of danger, and Francesca stopped dead in her tracks. Why hadn’t she scanned the area as she should have been doing? She knew the undead were in the city somewhere.
“Gabriel!” She sent the call instantly. She had walked straight into a trap and poor Brice was with her. She had already ruined his life and now, because of her failure to be alert, he would most likely lose his life.
The stench of the undead permeated the air around her. Brice yanked on her arm once more, dragging her out of the shrubbery and into the open. At once, in the distance, she saw Gabriel. He was standing with his arms at his sides. Tall. Strong. Powerful. His long black hair was flowing to his shoulders. He looked relaxed.
On three sides of him were the enemy, circling, moving their feet rhythmically in an attempt to weave a holding spell. At first the three appeared to be tall, rather gaunt, handsome men, but at once Francesca saw through the illusion. Brice stopped abruptly when he saw Gabriel, suddenly confused. What was he doing in this dark, dreary place? Gabriel looked so powerful standing in the midst of the three other men.