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.”