Francesca slowed her pace. “Brice, do you have any idea where you’re going or are you just walking as fast as you can because you’re so angry with me?” She could hear the blood pumping furiously through his heart, the rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he moved.
He caught her wrist and yanked, a snarl twisting his handsome features. “Come on, Francesca, hurry up.”
She moved with him a few steps, deliberately touching his mind as she did so. At once she was afraid. There was nothing in his mind except the overwhelming desire to get her to a certain place at the far side of the cemetery. He was willing to use any method, from cajoling her or humoring her, to brute strength. His need to get to this place was so strong, it blocked out everything else.
“Brice,” she said very softly, “you’re hurting me. Please let go of me. I can walk all by myself.” He needed help desperately. Whatever was wrong with him, whether he had been shadowed by a vampire, or was using drugs, or was on the verge of a mental breakdown, Francesca wanted to help him. She feared for him now, more than for herself. There was something terribly wrong with him and she was determined to heal him.
“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.
Before Brice could make a sound, Francesca drew him back into the maze of shrubbery. Without conscious thought she took command of him, pushing his body along the path, turning onto another one so she could get above the combatants. There were three vampires, all flushed from fresh kills, high on the adrenaline rush. Gabriel might need her strength, or, if he was wounded, her blood in the aftermath of the battle.
She touched his mind, unable to stop herself from doing so. He was Gabriel, always the same. Tranquil. Calm. Without fear. His strength enabled her to breathe easier. Francesca pushed Brice along until they were well above the lower part of the cemetery. She moved out where she could better see what was happening. The scene below was frightening. From her vantage point she could see a dark shape on the ground near one of the graves. A young woman by the look of her, her throat torn. She lay like a broken doll, one hand stretched out toward the cross marking the grave. Gabriel would have sensed death and violence in the cemetery but he would not have been able to see the body with the machinery blocking his line of vision. She sent him a vision immediately, warning him of what had been done.
Francesca closed her eyes for a moment, sent up a quick fervent prayer for the victim and her family. How could she ask Gabriel to be anything but what he was, a hunter for their people, exterminating the vicious creatures who committed such senseless, cruel acts? Beside her Brice stirred, coming out of the semi-stupor he had fallen into.
“What the hell’s going on?” he snapped, glaring down at the scene below. He could clearly see the body of the young woman and off to the right, far away from them, where the heavy equipment was parked, he could make out what looked like another body slumped near the bulldozer. A man, by his size. “I told you Gabriel was a criminal. He’s involved with murder.”
Francesca waved her hand to silence him, her entire focus centered below. The vampire to the left of Gabriel suddenly launched himself, wings bursting through his back as he leaped into the air, talons twisting his hands, his face contorting until he wore a razor-sharp beak. Even as he attacked, the second vampire’s body rippled with fur and his face lengthened into a long muzzle to accommodate the teeth filling his mouth. While the bird went high, the wolf attacked low. The third vampire wavered until he was transparent, dissolving into droplets of mist streaking toward Gabriel.
To Francesca’s horror, she could see a vine creeping along the ground, a long deadly tendril reaching out toward Gabriel’s ankle. She pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. It wouldn’t do to distract him. She had to trust in the fact that Gabriel was very experienced and would see each and every threat directed at him even though the attacks had been launched simultaneously.
“Get home now!”
Gabriel’s voice issued the command in her mind. It was sent sharply and with a strong underlying compulsion to obey. She knew he had no energy to spare to force his will on her.