Francesca was sagging with weariness. Gabriel circled her shoulders with a strong arm, pulled her beneath his broad shoulder so that she could lean on him. He bent close to Skyler, capturing her gaze with the black intensity of his eyes. “You will sleep, little one, a long, peaceful, healing sleep. When they bring you food, you will be hungry. You will eat what they bring. We will return tomorrow evening and you will have no worries until we are here to help you sort out your life. Go to sleep, Skyler, beautiful, peaceful dreams without fear.”
At once the girl’s lashes fell and she retreated from the world, this time into a healing sleep, where she’d been sent by the magic in Gabriel’s voice. She would dream of angels and beautiful things and a world completely new and exciting to her.
The moment the child was asleep, Gabriel turned his full attention to Francesca. “You must feed, sweetheart.” His voice was mesmerizing, filled with concern, infinitely tender. His hands moved up her arms to frame her face. “What you have wrought here is nothing short of a miracle. You know that. A miracle.” As he spoke, he was drawing her into the circle of his arms, pressing her face into the warmth of his neck where his pulse beat so strongly.
The lure of it was sharp and tempting. She was exhausted from her energy-draining work. More than that, more than the call of her depleted cells crying out for nourishment, was a new addiction to his taste. He held her so gently, so possessively, so protectively. He was heat and light, safety and companionship. He made her feel complete. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, taking just a moment to rest her head against his shoulder. Her mouth was against his bare skin, the material of his shirt brushing against her cheek. He was so close. His skin. Her skin. His blood surged and flowed, beckoned to her.
“You are so tired, Francesco. Please give me the honor of doing this small thing for you. I will not take it as a surrender. I know your mind. You have not attempted to deceive me in any way. I fed well this night.” His whispered words were a seduction, a temptation; he was a dark sorcerer brushing at her mind like the touch of butterfly wings.
Francesca merged with his warmth, both physically and mentally. The feel of his body so close, so protective, next to hers was a gift. When had a man held her in arms of steel? When had a body, so hard, so defined with masculine muscle and sinew, sheltered her close?
“Why didn’t he respond when I commanded him to leave?” That had surprised her, even alarmed her. She had promised the child. It had never happened before. Humans had always listened and obeyed the “push” in her voice.
Gabriel recognized her distress, understood that she judged herself less than him, a failure. “You are of the light, my love. I am the darkness itself. Thompson was wholly evil. You can restrain and delay evil, but you cannot completely touch its core because you cannot connect with it. Most humans are both good and evil. Not pure evil. You can connect with them because you can touch that which is good. I have the demon in me; it is my nature. He resides there, crouched low, waiting to leap out when I forget to leash him. I know evil every day of my existence. When you control it every day, it is not such a great feat to destroy it.” Gabriel dismissed his actions easily. “You are not less than I, Francesca. You have never been less. You saved lives and I took them. Who is the greater?”
Her slender arms crept up around his neck seemingly of their own accord. “You saved our people. You saved the human race. Not once, but decade after decade. It was your nature that allowed you to do so.” Her voice whispered over him, a soft sound of admiration, a seduction in itself.
The faint stubble on his jaw caught the silken strands of her hair as he rubbed his chin on the top of her head in a little caress. “You must feed, honey. You are drooping with weariness.” His coaxed her gently.