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was drained to the point of exhaustion. She rose with calm, unhurried movements, pushed open
the door and beckoned Brice inside. "It's her father. He's committed terrible crimes against
this child. Call the police and make certain they come down here at once to arrest him. Ask for
Argassy, use my name. Tell him I said it was an emergency."
Brice glanced at Skyler, still in the fetal position, her eyes blank and dull. "If she can't tell
them, Francesca& " He trailed off as Francesca's black gaze began to smolder. At times the
compassionate healer could look quite intimidating.
"She will not have to testify." It was a decree. Francesca turned away from him.
Brice had one hand on the door when it suddenly crashed open, flinging him backward to fall
against the bed. A huge burly bear of a man staggered in, blinking at them with hate-filled eyes.
His hands were huge, opening and closing into fists. He barely looked at Brice, clearly
dismissing him as an obstacle. His gaze settled on Francesca, whose hand was linked to
Skyler's.
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"What is this?" he bellowed. "How dare you come into my daughter's room when I said no one
was allowed in here. Who are you?"
Francesca lowered her voice until it was as soft and clean as a gentle breeze. "I am this child's
advocate. She is very ill, Mr. Thompson, and I want you to leave this room before you distress
her further."
Her voice was so compelling, the man actually turned to leave, one hand up to push at the
door. Then he spun around shaking his head, a cunning feral hatred gathering in his eyes. "You
little bitch, you can't tell me what to do with my own daughter." Deliberately he stalked across
the room toward her. Skyler was essential to him, his only way to get his drugs now.
He was good at intimidating others, Francesca admitted. He had perfected his technique with
years of practicing on Skyler and her mother. He was an ugly brute of a man with a special
need to inflict pain and fear on others. She read him easily, recognized his enjoyment of hurting
others men, children, women, it didn't matter. He needed to do so. Francesca could see Brice
making himself very small, cowering in the corner, trying to edge toward the door. If he made
it, he could call security and bring help immediately.
Francesca controlled the beating of her heart, knowing Skyler was still clinging to her, still
waiting to see if she was true to her word. Francesca sent waves of reassurance, a calm
tranquility she didn't actually feel. This man should have walked out the door at her command.
He was human and the hidden compulsion in her voice should have been enough to control him,
but it hadn't worked. She could handle the situation using other powers and skills, but it was a
chancy thing to do with Brice in the room and a legendary vampire somewhere in the city.
Lucian would feel the surge of power, know the touch was feminine. It could very well bring
instant trouble to the hospital, to her friends as well as to her.
The man stood so close she could see the hair on his chest through his dirty shirt. He smelled
of cheap whiskey and rye. The taint of drugs seeped from his pores. She met his gaze with a
calm acceptance of his rage. If he struck her, her friends would see to it that he would be
locked up for a very long time. And he was going to strike her. The air was thick with tension.
"You bitch. You need a real man to show you how to behave. Your simpering little doctor
probably runs to you every time you crook your little finger." Deliberately he cupped his crotch
lewdly. "You smell good, lady, and I'll bet your skin is as soft as it looks." He was breathing
too fast, already stiff and licking his lips with anticipation. His hand moved to touch her face, to
feel if her skin could possibly be as soft as it looked. "Don't!" It was a sharp command.
Francesca didn't move. Her eyes blazed at him, glaring with contempt. He was incapable of
performing sexually. She knew that much about him.
Vulgarly he spat out a string of swear words even as he swung his fist at her. Francesca stood
very still waiting calmly for the blow. Brice yelled at the top of his lungs for security. Only a
heartbeat went by, a tiny space of time, but in that space the air in the room thickened to a
black malevolence. The door burst inward at the same moment that Thompson's fist connected
with flesh.
Gabriel was smiling even as he crushed Thompson's fist in his hand. He had caught it before
the brute could strike Francesca. Moving with preternatural speed, he had inserted his body
between Francesca's and Thompson's, catching the punch before it could connect with his
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lifemate's face. Only Gabriel's black eyes seemed alive in his still face. Deep within their
depths burned the bright red flame of the demon. It revealed his true nature, that of a predator.
To Brice's astonishment Skyler's father seemed to crumple before Gabriel. Brice read the
terror in the man's face and forgot to continue calling for security. He felt fear himself, a
mounting surge of adrenaline that refused to abate. Gabriel looked like an avenging angel, a
warrior of old, invincible, merciless. He was staring directly into Thompson's eyes. "You do not
want to strike Francesca, do you?" The voice was very soft, almost gentle. Although pleasing
to the ear, it was all the more frightening because there was no emotion.
Thompson was shaking his head like a child. There was pain etched on his face and Brice
could see that Gabriel retained possession of his fist. Gabriel's knuckles weren't white, he
didn't look as if he was exerting any pressure at all, yet Thompson's face grew gray and he
began a low-pitched moaning that fast rose to a cry. Gabriel bent his dark head to the man and
whispered something Brice couldn't hear, but Thompson ceased to weep, managing only a
moaning whimper. His eyes remained fixed on Gabriel's face, eyes filled with horror, with sheer
terror.
Security burst into the room and immediately Gabriel stepped away from the man, his larger
body protectively shielding Francesca's. They took Thompson out into the hall, astonished that
he went with them so docilely. There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor and a
terrible coughing, then a rattling. Almost at once, a nurse called for Brice, her voice tense. He
hurried out to find Thompson lying on the floor, both hands clutching his throat, his face gray as
he fought desperately for air, his eyes rolling back in his head.
"What's going on? What happened?" Brice was on his knees beside the man.
"He just started gasping and grabbed his throat. He went a little crazy, acting as if he were
wrestling with someone for a minute, almost as if he were being strangled, and then he fell,"
the security guard blurted out.
Francesca heard the explanation and sat down once again in the chair beside Skyler's bed.
"Thank you, Gabriel," she said sincerely. He had no idea how relieved and happy she was at
his unexpected arrival.
His hand moved over her silken hair in a slow caress. "You should have known I would never
allow anyone to lay a hand on you." His voice was very gentle, almost tender. It gave her an
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