“He found a stuffed animal, a fluffy wolf with bright blue eyes, and was immediately drawn to it. "I want to get this for her. It is telling me it needs to go home with us." Francesca laughed at him.”
“Francesca took a navy blue sheath from a hanger and held it up. "This is darling, Gabriel. Don't you love it? You're right, I think we need to concentrate on much more feminine articles of clothing."
He reached around her and fingered the soft material. "Where is the rest of it?" He was very serious, his dark eyes searching her face for signs she was teasing.”
“Gabriel? Are you implying Gabriel had something to with Thompson’s death?” Francesca sounded somewhere between outraged and amused. “You can’t be serious, Brice.”
“He crushed his hand, Francesca. Your Gabriel did that. Crushed his fist with one hand. I watched him do it and he wasn’t even straining. I never even saw him come into the room. He was just there. There’s something not quite right about him. His eyes. They aren’t human. He’s not human.”
Francesca stared at him wide-eyed. “Not human? As in what? A phantom? A ghost that flies through the air? A gorilla? What? Maybe he lifts weights. Maybe he’s strong because he lifts weights and his adrenaline was pumping. What are you saying?”
“Lucian attempted a wan smile, although he did not open his eyes. “You are the miracle my brother has named you in his thoughts.”
“Has he named me a miracle?” Even her voice was soothing and tranquil to Gabriel’s ears. He wanted to touch her, bask forever in her beauty, in her serenity. After the chaos of a bleak, gray world filled with violence, she was a miracle.
“Yes, and for once, he was right.” There was an edge of weariness to the beautiful pitch of Lucian’s voice and it alarmed Gabriel. He had never heard his invincible twin sound so utterly drained of strength.
“I am right at all times,” Gabriel corrected, moving at once to his brother’s side. “It is a peculiar phenomenon Lucian finds difficult to live with, but all the same . . .”
Lucian opened his eyes to regard his brother with an icy stare clearly meant to intimidate. “Francesca, my dear sister, you have tied yourself to one who has a much inflated opinion of himself. I do not remember a time when he was right about anything.”
Gabriel moved to the couch, seating himself beside his brother. “Do not listen to him, my love, he practices his intimidating stare in the mirror on a daily basis. He thinks to silence me with his glare.”
“I love you, Francesca,” Gabriel told her solemnly. “I cannot express in words what you are to me.”
She smiled up at him. “You do a fairly good job expressing yourself.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Fairly good?”
“I think your ego is already far too large. I am not about to call you the greatest lover in the world.”
His hand cupped her soft breast, his thumb stroking small caresses over her taut nipple. “But you would if it were not for fear of my ego?”
“Do not say it." Gabriel said with quiet menace.
"I said nothing." Lucian pointed out.
"You raised your eyebrow in that obnoxious way you have," Gabriel replied. "You are in enough trouble with me without adding a sneer to your sins."
"She is not like the women I seem to recall from our youth."
"You did not know any women in our youth." Gabriel told him.”
“Because you think you’ve changed your lifestyle. You haven’t, you know. In a day or two there will be a killing in this city and you will be on the hunt without a backward glance, without a single thought for me, just as you did before.”
Gabriel smiled at her, his teeth very white. “I will have no choice but to hunt the vampire, but I will not only look back, I will come back.”
“The rock spun out of his hand so fast, she heard it buzz through the air. It skimmed across the water, hop after hop like a leapfrog racing across the water. It went on and on until it had crossed the lake and had hopped onto the opposite shore. “Well,” he mused softly, a masculine taunt in his voice, “I would say that about wraps things up. Twenty-two skips all the way to the other side.” He sounded very complacent. “I believe you get to be my slave and brush my hair for me at each rising.”
Francesca shook her head. “What I believe is, you rigged this wager. You did something to win.”
“It is called practice. I have spent much time skipping rocks across the lake.”
Francesca laughed softly. “You are not telling the truth, Gabriel. I don’t believe you ever skipped a rock in your life until now. You tricked me.”
“You think?” He asked it innocently. Too innocently.
“You know you did. Just to win a silly bet. I can’t believe you.”
He reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, making her heart leap wildly. “It was not just a silly bet, honey, it was a way to get you to brush my hair. No one has ever done such a thing for me and I think I crave attention.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose again and grinned at her almost boyishly. “I asked Lucian to do so once and he threatened to beat me to a bloody pulp.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Some things are just not worth it, you know.”
“Are you attempting to distract me from my task with your wanton thoughts?” There was a curling caress in Gabriel’s voice, brushing at the walls of her mind, flooding her body with heat and excitement.
“Wanton thoughts? You need a checkup, my boy. Your fantasy world seems to be growing larger with each passing day. I wanted you home to take out the trash.”
“Francesca shook her head over the vehemence of that command, but she felt very precious to him. Cherished.
“You are cherished. Now do something women are supposed to do, something I will not worry about.”
“Look who’s talking!” She tried to sound indignant, but he was making her laugh with his nonsense.
“It is not nonsense. These are commands from your lifemate, and you should listen and obey.” He sounded very arrogant as only Gabriel could.
“You’re showing your age again. You awoke in the twenty-first century. Women no longer listen and obey, worse luck for you. I have work to do, and you are in some place very musty and smelling of wet dirt. What are you doing?”
“Performing secret masculine rituals.””
“Do you know that hobo is an acronym for Homeward Bound?”
“Jax cleared his throat. “You two have loved each other the longest,” he said softly. “Doesn’t seem
right that you’ll be the last to get married.”
“Quanto a me, le storie di vittime e carnefici mi irritavano oltre misura. Forse per questa ragione non avevo mai avuto un amico o un'amica: avevo visto troppe volte, al liceo e altrove, il nobile nome dell'amicizia accostato a oscure schiavitù inaccettabili, a sistemici dispositivi di umiliazione, a nauseanti sottomissioni, fino a comportamenti da capro espiatorio.
Avevo dell'amicizia una visione sublime: se non era alla Oreste e Pilade, Achille e Patroclo, Montaigne e La Boétie, perché tu sei proprio tu, e io sono proprio io, allora non la volevo. Se lasciava spazio alla minima bassezza, alla minima rivalità, all'ombra di un' invidia, all'ombra di un'ombra, la respingevo a pedate.”
“Does this look like a dragon who would poo in a helmet???”
“So this is insanity. How interesting. What happens next?”
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