"Then leave."
He shook his head. Took a step forward. "Not until we've talked."
"You mean, not until you've made sure I won't talk," she replied, trying not to be lulled into complacency simply because he looked like the man she had trusted.
Or because her body - even her idiot heart - responded to him on sight.
"There are things you need to understand, Gabrielle."
"Oh, I do understand," she said, amazed that her voice held no tremor. Her fingers came up near her neck, feeling for the cross pendant she hadn't worn since her first communion. The delicate talisman seemed like ridiculously flimsy armor now that she was standing in front of Lucan, with nothing to separate them except a few strides of his long, muscular legs. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's taken me a while, granted, but I think I finally understand it all."
"No. You don't." He came toward her, pausing to notice the knot of chalky white bulbs tied above his head in the door of the kitchen. "Garlic," he drawled, and exhaled an amused chuckle.
Gabrielle retreated a pace from him, her Keds squeaking on the kitchen tiles. "I told you, I was expecting you."
And she'd done a bit of other prep work before he arrived. If he looked around, he would find the same threshold decoration in every room of the apartment, including the front door. Not that he seemed to care.
Multiple locks hadn't stopped him and neither had this further attempt at a security measure. He walked under Gabrielle's homemade vampire repellant unfazed, his eyes dark and fixed on her intently.
As he stepped closer, she backed up farther into the kitchen, until the counter came up behind her. A trial-sized mouthwash bottle lay on the polished granite top. It no longer contained Scope but a little something else she had picked up on her way home that morning, when she'd stopped in at St. Mary's for a long overdue confession. Gabrielle grabbed the plastic bottle off the counter and held it close to her chest.
"Holy water?" Lucan asked, coolly meeting her gaze. "What are you going to do with that, throw it on me?"
"If I have to."
He moved so quickly, she saw only a dizzying blur in front of her as he reached out and snatched the small vial out of her grasp and emptied it into his hands. He smoothed his dripping fingers over his face and into his glossy black hair.
Nothing happened.
He tossed the useless container aside and took another step toward her.
"I'm not what you think, Gabrielle."
He sounded so reasonable, she almost believed him. "I saw what you did. You murdered a man, Lucan."
He calmly shook his head. "I killed a human who was no longer a man - hardly human at all, in fact. What had once been human in him was bled out by the vampire who made him into a Minion slave. He was as good as dead already. I merely finished the job. I regret that you had to see it, but I cannot apologize. And I won't. I would kill anyone, human or otherwise, who means to do you harm."
"Which makes you either dangerously overprotective, or just plain psychotic. To say nothing of the fact that you sliced that guy's throat open with your teeth, and drank his blood!"
She waited for another composed reply. Some other rational explanation that might make her consider that even something as unbelievable as vampirism could actually make sense - could actually exist - in the real world.
But Lucan didn't give her any such response.
"This isn't how I wanted things to go between us, Gabrielle. God knows, you deserve better." He muttered something low under his breath, in a language she could not understand. "You deserve to be brought into this gently, by a male who will say the right words, and do the right things for you. That's why I wanted to send Gideon - " He raked his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I am no emissary for my race. I am a warrior. At times, an executioner. I deal in death, Gabrielle, and I am not accustomed to making excuses to anyone for my actions."
"I'm not asking you for excuses."
"What, then - the truth?" He gave her a wry smile. "You saw the truth last night when I killed that Minion and drained him dry. That was truth, Gabrielle. That is who I truly am."
She felt a keen sickness in her belly that he hadn't even tried to deny the horror of what he was telling her. "You're a monster, Lucan. My God, you're something out of a nightmare."
"According to human superstitions and folklore, yes. Those same stories would tell you to fight my kind with garlic or holy water - all farce, as you've just seen for yourself. In fact, our races are very closely intertwined. We are not so different from each other."
"Really?" she scoffed, hysteria clutching at her as he took a step closer, forcing her to retreat again. "Last time I checked, cannibalism wasn't high on my to-do list. Then again, neither was screwing the undead, but I seem to be doing that with a bit of regularity lately."
He exhaled a humorless laugh. "I assure you, I am not undead. I breathe, like you. I bleed, like you. I can be killed, though not easily, and I have been living for a long, long time, Gabrielle." He came toward her, closing the small distance that separated them in the kitchen. "I am every bit as alive as you are."
As if to prove it, his warm fingers closed around hers. He brought her hand up between their bodies and pressed her palm against his chest. Through the soft fabric of his shirt, his heart pounded strong and steady. She felt his breath flowing in and out as his lungs expanded and contracted, the warmth of his body seeping into her fingertips, permeating her weary senses like a soothing balm.