Stroking back strands of dull hair with gentle fingertips, Francesca leaned close to the girl’s head. She wanted to hold her forever, keep her safe and love her as she should have been loved. Why hadn’t she found this child earlier, before her cruel parent had done such extensive harm? She could feel the tears trickling down her face, the heavy sorrow pressing in on her chest. Ancients felt pain, emotions, much more intensely than fledglings. Francesca wanted to lie beside the girl and weep, but instead she forced herself to look beyond the pain both of them now shared.
She closed her eyes, focusing entirely on the young teenager, her own body dropping away from her until she became energy and light. At once she moved to merge with Skyler. Her young body was a mess of torn muscle, broken bones, bruised tissue. There were internal scars everywhere. Most of all the body felt dead, as if Skyler’s spirit had long ago departed. Francesca knew it wasn’t so; she had connected with the girl, knew the child was listening to her, somewhere deep inside her mind. A small huddled spirit drawn only by the compulsion in Francesca’s voice. Francesca knew the girl was waiting very still in the shadows, just waiting to see whether Francesca was telling the truth. How could she believe? It was only the strangeness, the pure silvery sound of Francesca’s voice and the fact that she was “different” that had captured her attention at all.
“Baby,” Francesca whispered softly, her heart aching. “Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you before, but I won’t abandon you. I will watch over you always, throughout your young life. I will make sure no one can ever hurt you again like this.” She moved closer to the life force huddled so small. “Come back and live, Skyler. I can give you back your life. I’m not your mother, I know that, but I will never allow any harm to come to you again. I give you my word, and it is not given lightly or often.” She moved closer, bathing the huddled, miserable child in her light, her compassion, the full force of her goodness. “Believe in me, trust in me. I know I can keep you safe as no one has ever done. Hear my voice, Skyler. I’m incapable of lying to one such as you. I know you feel my words are true.”
Her voice was compelling, drawing the child’s shattered spirit to her like a magnet. She swamped the teenager with warmth and reassurance, a promise that she would never again have to face the brute that was her father. She would be protected from him at all times. All she had to do was come back. Just allow herself to trust someone.
Softly, Francesca chanted a healing ritual in the ancient language, the words as old as time itself, as she began to work from the inside out to repair Skyler’s damaged body. She worked swiftly and meticulously, paying close attention to details, not wanting any foul evidence of the beatings or rapes in her body. After a time she became aware of a discordant note. Merged as she was with the child, she became aware of the girl cringing, suddenly radiating fear. She was not frightened of Francesca, never of her. If anything, the huddled spirit was moving reluctantly toward her for protection. The child seemed to sense her father’s presence. He was somewhere close inside the hospital, coming toward the room.
Francesca caught some of the young woman’s fear. It would have been impossible not to feel it when the girl was so terrified and they were connected. Francesca had tremendous control, born of centuries of patience. She knew that she was powerful and could handle dangerous situations, yet at the same time she was also aware that she must appear to be human. She had trained herself to appear human, to make her responses totally normal. Even her thoughts had to appear human. Such precautions had protected her from the undead. They had also kept the Carpathian males from finding her. Even a mind scan would identify her as human, not Carpathian. She had never been able to risk a surge of power that might draw her own kind or the undead to her.