Corinne pulled away from Dayan, a delicate retreat. The slightest contact with him sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, turned her insides to mush. "You're a bit on the arrogant side, but I doubt I'm the first person to tell you that." She glanced over her shoulder at him, teasing, enticing, without realizing her heart was in her eyes.

He felt the breath slam right out of his lungs. He glided after her, a great jungle cat stalking his prey. Silent. Intense. His gaze fixed on her face as she backed away. Corinne forgot they were on a porch and stepped off the platform without looking. Somehow Dayan managed to catch her. She blinked, and that fast he was cradling her safely in his arms. "Fortunately for you, I can live up to my reputation. Look where you are going next time." Deliberately he flashed his immaculate white teeth at her, displaying masculine amusement at her predicament.

Corinne raised her eyebrow, managing to look haughty even while cradled in his arms. "How did you do that? How could you move fast enough to catch me?"

"I am a superhero," he confessed soberly. "I never told you because I feared you would not like men in capes. Mine is very traditional, but nice all the same."

She laughed so hard she had to clutch at his shoulder, afraid she might fall out of his arms. "You'd like me to believe you're a superhero. I want to see the all-important cape. You can't be a superhero without one." She liked being in his arms. She loved being in his arms. He was enormously strong, yet surprisingly gentle. He could say the most outrageous things with a straight face and innocent black eyes. She looked up at him from under her long lashes. "You need tights to be a superhero too. Bright blue tights," Corinne pointed out wickedly.

One black eyebrow shot up eloquently. "Tights?" He repeated the word as if it were not in his vocabulary. "Blue tights?"

She tried to look serious but she couldn't stop laughing and her heart was beginning to hurt. A hard, painful weight was pressing down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs so that she wanted not to gasp for air. Corinne looked away from him, not wanting him to see the struggle. It was amazing to her that she could be so happy, could forget everything so completely in his company. Her body had to remind her it was wearing out fast. Corinne blinked back sudden tears and buried her face against his shoulder.

Dayan remained silent, allowing his heart to find the scattered, irregular rhythm of hers and slowly guide it back to normal. He cleared his mind of desperation, finding a calm center and reached across time and space as his kind could do.

Darius. My need for the healer increases. I do not think I have much time.

There was a moment of time, a heartbeat of silence.

Dayan never doubted, not even in his desperation. Darius's gentle voice flowed into his mind, flooded him with conviction.

Two of our greatest healers are making their way to the Cascades. We will meet you there. We will not fail you, Dayan.

He took the directions straight from Darius's mind, learning the way to a safe house owned by one of the Carpathians' greatest healers, Gregori, and his wife, Savannah, daughter of their Prince.

I thank you for moving so quickly. All is well with you? Yes. The women are anxious to see you and your lifemate.

Dayan took comfort in Darius's voice and words. In his long lifetime, Dayan had never known Darius to fail at a task. If he gave his word about something, it was done. They were family. They had traveled together for nearly a thousand years. To know that his family was mobilizing swiftly, moving to help him save his lifemate, gave him added confidence it could be done. They would find a way to save her. If possible, the child also, but it was imperative they save Corinne. Without her, Dayan could not continue. He would not want to face the darkness and the emptiness. Wherever she traveled, he would choose to be at her side, to protect and guard her in the next life.

It was only after a few minutes of breathing normally that Corinne realized their hearts were beating with the same rhythm. Keeping her head pillowed on his shoulder, she looked up at him with her large green eyes. "Where are you? You've gone very solemn and serious on me."

"I was 'talking' with my brother."

"He's telepathic too?" Corinne lifted her head to look at him more closely. "Put me down, Dayan. I'm really capable of walking without breaking my neck. It must have been wonderful to grow up with someone who shared your talent."

Dayan shrugged his powerful shoulders, a lazy ripple of muscle. "I never thought about it. All of us are telepathic. The entire family." Reluctantly he lowered her feet to the ground.

"Do you think it's genetic, then?" Corinne pressed her hands protectively over her baby, suddenly afraid for her. Her own life had been at times very difficult because of her special gifts. She knew she wouldn't be around to protect and reassure her child when times were hard.

Dayan's hands framed her face. "I call the Troubadours my family because we've been together since we were small children, but only Darius and Desari are truly brother and sister. Syndil, Barack and I are related the way you and Lisa are related. The ties are stronger than blood."

"Of course, the members of your band. They all have interesting names."

Dayan laughed softly. "I forget what a serious little fan you are. You have inflated my ego for all time."

"A serious little fan," she echoed, her eyes beginning to smolder with hidden fire. She tossed her head, the copper highlights in her hair sizzling from the walkway light as it came on automatically. "I'll have you know that it isn't you I'm a fan of, but music.

There is a difference, you know. Don't get me wrong  -  " She held up her hand to ward him off as he advanced rather purposefully on her. She found herself laughing again, watching his eyes glinting at her. "You've convinced me to be a fan. Really, you have. I'll stare adoringly at you next time you play." She batted her eyelashes and fanned herself. "I could act the perfect little groupie if your ego needs a boost."

"I'm flattered," he said, catching her small hand in his. "So tell me what you know of our band."

She shrugged casually. "You play guitar, as does Barack. Syndil plays the drums and just about any other instrument. Desari is your lead singer, and she has an amazing voice. You sing only when the mood strikes you or if a particular song warrants it. My guess is, you both write the lyrics to your songs." She smiled up at him. "And your music is awesome, although there are a few others who are right up there with you." She looked down at her fingernails. "Legends."

His eyebrows shot up. "Who? Name a legend."

"In what category? I like rock and roll myself."

"Rock and roll?" There was a slight sneer in his voice. "Who would you consider a legend in rock and roll? Tread carefully, your reputation is on the line."

"What year are we talking here? In the fifties there was so much going on. If you're going to be all snobby about modern rock and roll, we can raise the stakes and talk blues or jazz. Surely you'll admit there are legends in blues and jazz."

"I'll concede that point to you, but you can't start looking in the fifties. The origins of rock and roll began long before the fifties. Have you listened to the tribal music and the original beats coming out of Africa?"

She grinned at him, one eyebrow shooting up. "Surely you aren't testing me, thinking I don't know my music history. That isn't the point. Do you honestly think there aren't legends from the fifties and sixties?"

"Maybe the Dark Troubadours," he mused, his black eyes laughing at her wickedly.

"Excuse me, Mr. Legend, what about Louis Armstrong? Do not make the mistake of turning up your nose at him. Muddy Waters, for heaven's sake, and BB King, he's awesome. He just has such presence. And Stevie Ray Vaughn. I could name several others."

"You are only supposed to think of me as a legend."

He meant to tease her, but as he bent his dark head toward her passionate little face, his gaze found her lips and his heart nearly stopped. He closed the small gap between them, fastening his mouth on hers, taking her breath and giving her air. The earth stopped moving for him. The world dissolved and there was only Corinne in his mind, in his arms. His eyes burned strangely, his body hardened like a rock, his stomach did a curious somersault, and his heart simply melted. There was everything in her kiss. Passion and fire. Exquisite tenderness. A promise. Dayan lifted his head before it was too late to pull back.

Corinne blinked up at him, clearly bemused. "How do you do that?"

"You and I are lifemates..."

"Lifemates?" Corinne echoed. The word was beautiful and implied something permanent and binding. She wondered if it was an interpretation of a term from his native language. She had heard him use the word several times before.

His black eyes moved over her face in a serious, intent study. His gaze was brooding. Incredibly sexy. "Lifemates," he affirmed. "Married, but more. Married as in an eternal commitment."

"That's a beautiful concept, Dayan, but don't most people think they'll be married for all time?" His eyes reminded her of a great jungle cat. There was a burning intensity about him when he looked at her. Deep inside her there was an answering need, calling out for him alone.

His hand capturing hers, he tugged gently until her small body was pressed up against his. "You are my lifemate, Corinne. I recognized you the moment I laid eyes on you. I know you are the light to my darkness, that your soul is the other half of my own. Each of the members of my family has found a lifemate. Barack and Syndil were meant for one another. Desari's lifemate is Julian. Darius has Tempest, and I am amazed I found you. I had no hope that you existed."

Corinne ducked her head. Dayan believed every word he said. They barely knew one another, yet he was so certain. He almost made her believe they had a future together. She knew better; she knew her heart was deteriorating. Dayan had slowed the inevitable by whatever he had done the night before, but she knew her heart would never last beyond the birth of her child. She was already worn, her heart laboring and her lungs struggling. "I like all of your names," she said, determined to change the direction of their conversation. "Are they stage names or your actual names?"

Dayan smiled without humor. "We change many things about ourselves, but we have always kept the names we were given at birth."

Mysterious secrets were locked behind his extraordinary eyes. His eyes looked old, as if he had seen far too many things. There was a quiet strength in the sculpted features of his face. At times he could look quite young, and at others, older and more worn. His body could be so still, not even revealing he was breathing, yet when he chose to move, he was so fast that if she blinked she missed the actual movement. Dayan. He filled her mind as no one had ever done. He gave her dreams she dared not have.

Corinne touched his face with gentle fingers, sorrow for him welling up so that it overwhelmed her. She had thought to warn him, to allow him to make his own decision regarding their relationship, but he was breaking her heart. "Don't do this, Dayan. Don't build your dreams around me. I'm so afraid for you. You deserve to be happy. I want you happy. Don't be like Lisa. She wants a miracle." The pad of her index finger outlined his perfect lips. "I don't want to cause you pain. I really don't."

"I believe in miracles, Corinne. I found you. I have traveled the world for more years than you can possibly conceive, and never once did I hope for such a thing. Yet you are real. You walked right through the door of that bar. You came to me when I was certain my time was running out. I know there are miracles. Each one of our males who finds his lifemate knows there are such things as miracles. We have had this discussion before, but you refuse to listen. You are not going to die. I want you to believe that, Corinne. Start believing that."

Corinne sighed softly and looked away from the hungry intensity of his eyes. He could convince anyone with that compelling look. She wanted to be convinced, to think that she might have a chance at a future with her child and a man she felt passionate about. The thought came unbidden, and at once she slammed the door on it. She didn't really know Dayan at all. Would she still be feeling the same way in a month? Two months? Would Dayan even want her around after a month or two? She knew absolutely nothing about him except that he was a musician who drifted from town to town with his band.

A brilliant musician. A legend of a musician.

Dayan corrected her thoughts, his black eyebrow slanting up as she tried to convince herself she didn't want him. "Get it right, Corinne. You know more of me than that. You know I do not chase women, that I am protective. You must know I am honest and trustworthy."

"The ultimate Boy Scout, who eavesdrops on other people's thoughts," she reprimanded even as she wondered why it didn't embarrass her that he knew what she was thinking. She arced one eyebrow at him in a small taunt. "Pregnant women often think sexual thoughts, so don't flatter yourself."

"I am only interested in the sexual thoughts of one pregnant woman. It is only natural that you would be sexually attracted to me, Corinne. If you were not, it would be a difficult merging for us. But you are my true lifemate, and I intend to claim you as my own for all time. I think sex should hold a place in our relationship." He grinned boyishly at her. "A very important place. That is how it is supposed to be."

She found herself reluctantly smiling. "You sound so certain, so matter-of-fact, as if none of the obstacles matter at all."

"Of course they do not matter. We must be together, we are meant to be. You feel it too, Corinne, I know you do. We do not have a choice. If you accept that we must be together, than we will find a way for it to be so."

She looked away from the intensity in his glittering eyes. "I think you really must be a poet, Dayan. You believe in romance. Real life does not necessarily mirror poetry. All of us die, some just go a little sooner than others. My body is wearing out faster than it should. I was born that way, and I've always known it would happen. According to the doctors, I shouldn't have lived beyond my fourteenth birthday. I'm luckier than others who were born like me. That is reality." He was giving her a headache by refusing to accept the seriousness of her illness.

He gave her a gentle little shake because he couldn't help himself. "I would like to tell you about the reality of my life, Corinne, what I have experienced without you, but you are not ready for such a confession. In the meantime I think we should talk to Lisa and Cullen and begin our journey tonight. We have a great distance to travel."

Corinne shook her head. "We can't just pick up and leave. We have a life we've worked very hard for, Dayan. Lisa's profession demands she be available when she's needed."

Dayan's black eyes moved over her face, brooding, moody, with a hint of menace she found disconcerting. There was something undefined about him that she couldn't quite name; it made her feel afraid.

Not afraid. You should never fear me. I could never harm you, Corinne. I will do everything in my power to see to your protection. And my powers are considerable.

He had shifted into the much more intimate communication of lifemates almost automatically. Dayan's arm circled her slender shoulders, held her very close in the moonlight. She was fragile, delicate, her bones small. Unexpectedly, fear slammed into him along with a kind of helpless fury. He needed a healer fast; he needed to find a way to gently steer her in the direction he wanted her to go. If necessary, he would use his telepathic ability to persuade her, but it was against his code of honor to influence his own lifemate in such a way.

"It's the way you look sometimes, Dayan," Corinne said with a small self-mocking laugh. "You can look very intimidating when you choose." She smiled up at him, her fingertips going up to smooth the hard edge from his sensually sculpted lips. "Like now, when you aren't getting your way."

His black eyes burned over her face. "I will always get my way, honey, when it comes to protecting you. I do not think there is a rational argument you can make about this. Lisa will not care much for her job if you are dead. You are capable of writing songs anywhere. I also know that you are far more frightened than you are letting on and you agree with me that we should protect Lisa despite her refusal to accept how grave your situation is."

"Is this what it's going to be like with you?" Corinne sent him a smoldering look of warning from under her long lashes. "I don't like you reading my mind."

"You will soon be reading mine," he answered without censoring his thoughts.

Corinne raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just supposed to suddenly acquire the ability to be telepathic? Does it rub off on people when you're around them too much?"

Dayan shrugged again. "We will have to see, Corinne." His hand moved up and down her arms to warm her. "You are getting cold out here."

"It's beautiful, though. I hate to be indoors at night. The sky always looks so incredible." Corinne laughed softly. "Of course, I feel that way during the day too. I love to look at clouds. Lisa drives like a maniac, but she says I'm worse because I can't keep my eyes off the sky." She looked up at him. "I don't want to miss anything, you know? The world is such a beautiful place; I want to see as much of it as I can." She walked a little further along the pavement. "Where are you from originally? You have an accent, but I can't place it."

"I have traveled so much over the years I do not know if my way of speaking reflects any one place. I speak several languages. But I was born in the Carpathian Mountains in Europe. I spent most of my younger years in Africa."

"How interesting. What did your parents do?"

"I was a mere boy when they were killed. Darius raised us, the band members. We were all children, and we grew up a little wild." Dayan smiled at her, his teeth very white in the darkness. "I think we are still a little wild."

Corinne allowed him to lace his fingers through hers, though she wasn't altogether certain why. A part of her wanted to be realistic and strong, while the other, more treacherous side whispered of temptation, whispered she should enjoy his company while she could. "So Darius is much older than you are?"

"Darius is an extraordinary individual. He was six years old when our parents were killed. I was four. He kept us alive." He waved his hand, the movement graceful as he dismissed the past. "It was a long time ago."

Corinne reached up to rub his jaw with the palm of her hand. "You sound so sad, Dayan. It couldn't have been that long ago. Was your childhood difficult?"

"It was an adventure, Corinne, unlike yours. Remember, all of us are telepathic, and we are used to our differences. It was a wild, fun, very exciting time. Tell me about your childhood. I know bits and pieces through your memories, but you have locked most of it behind a heavy door I do not wish to open without permission."

They walked together unhurriedly along the pavement. Dayan seemed to glide beside her, making no noise. If she hadn't felt the security of his large frame brushing hers and his hand wrapped around her fingers, she would not have known he was beside her. In a way it was reassuring, yet it was also eerie to feel such raw power and stealth in him. "You aren't like everyone else." She said it quietly, intuitively.

There was a small silence, the space of several heartbeats. "I am from an ancient lineage," he admitted softly. "I have gifts, special gifts granted to me."

She smiled in the darkness. "I am very glad we met, Dayan. There is something wonderful and beautiful about you. When I'm with you I feel as if I could go on forever. The words to your songs and the beautiful music you play are exceptional. I love the sound of your voice, speaking or singing."

He curled her hand against his chest, so that she could feel his heart beating strongly beneath her skin, right through his shirt. She could feel the heat of his skin, the call of his masculine body as his muscles moved subtly. Above her head, Dayan smiled, his smile slightly wolfish. "You are deliberately trying to direct the conversation away from your childhood." He was secretly pleased by the sincerity he detected in her mind. He had placed no compulsion on Corinne, nothing to enhance her feelings for him. He was relying on the fact that she was his true lifemate, yet he had not bound her to him with the ritual words. He feared their forced parting during the daylight hours might be too difficult for her strained heart.

"Why would you want to hear a boring story on such a beautiful night?" Corinne kept her head down, not wanting to look into his eyes when they saw far too much.

"I want to know everything about you, Corinne," he said softly, his voice sheer black magic in the dark of the night.

How could anyone refuse the beauty of that voice? She took a breath, let it out. "The bad memories are of my mother drinking. I can't really recall much of her doing anything else. There were always men and awful little rooms we lived in, stuffy and hot. I spent all my time listening to music. I'd sneak out and find places where there was live music." She tossed him a quick grin. "It was an advantage being small  -  I could fit anywhere, and using telekinesis, I could remove locks and open heavy doors."

His hand moved over her hair in a small caress. He had to touch her. He could feel the contrasting emotions accompanying her memories.

"I lived for music. I dreamed it and heard it night and day in my head. It kept me sane when I was alone. It balanced my world, was something I escaped into. And then, of course, I met John and Lisa and their father."

There was such a wealth of sadness in her voice, Dayan gathered her into his arms, gently, protectively, his body sheltering hers in the dark of the night. He held her as if she were fragile porcelain, a precious treasure. "I'm grateful you had John and Lisa." And he meant it. John had saved Lisa's life and protected Corinne. He had done his best to create a family for them. Dayan was grateful someone had been there for her when he could not.

"Don't fall in love with me, Dayan," she murmured softly, pleading with him. She was fighting for him, wanting him to understand he couldn't feel so strongly about her. It was going to be bad enough with Lisa; she couldn't bear for Dayan to count on her and then lose her too.

His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head so that her eyes met his steady gaze. "I know you better than anyone has ever known you. How could I not love you when I see into your mind and heart? You are everything to me. I know you cannot understand, and to you it does not make sense, but to me  -  a wanderer with no one to love him, no one to chase away the demons  -  you are a miracle."

"Is that what I do for you?" She smiled in spite of herself, the thought beautiful to her. "Do I really chase away the demons?"

Without hurry, almost lazily, he bent his dark head and took possession of her mouth. He was gentle; there was nothing but gentleness in Dayan when he touched her, a gentleness so at odds with his enormous strength. But his mouth was pure magic, opening a door to a world she had never known existed before he had come into her life. His mouth was masculine and hot, dominating hers; the very earth shifted beneath her feet so that she clung to him for support. He swept her up against his hard frame, yet he held her with exquisite tenderness, infinite tenderness. His mouth was sheer magic.

He swept Corinne into another world, one of passion and exotic fantasies. One she had never dared to imagine. She might chase away demons for him, but he was something altogether different to her. Unreal. A mythical god. A man of legend. A hero. She smiled against his perfectly sculpted lips, velvet soft and hotly erotic. Every time she looked into his black eyes, so intense, so hungry, she melted inside.

I am reading your thoughts.

The voice brushed intimately at the walls of her mind, a flutter of butterfly wings creating the same sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, stop." Corinne pulled out of his arms, the only sane thing to do with her heart pounding and her body turning to molten fire. "We have to stop. You know we do." Her heart wasn't going to take much more; it was already working far too hard.

He rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, attempting to recover. "I'm sorry, honey. Think of something mundane for me."

She laughed softly, nibbling at the corner of his mouth. "Lisa and I need clothes. We'll have to go back to our house and get enough clothes to last a few days until these people lose interest in us."

Dayan's hand curled slowly around the nape of her neck. His fingerprints were like a brand on her skin. She could feel it all the way down to her toes. And she was melting again, coming apart inside, her heart somersaulting dangerously. He straightened slowly, his black eyes staring down into her beautiful gaze. "Those people will not lose their interest in you, honey. You cannot go back to the house. I will get the things you and Lisa need and bring them to you. Make me a list." His voice was low, a whisper of sound like velvet over skin.

Corinne closed her eyes to shut out the sight of him. He was overwhelming at such close quarters. Every breath she took, she inhaled his masculine scent. Clean. Wild. Male. "You can't go through our things, Dayan. It just wouldn't be right. One of us will have to go with you."

He shook his head slowly. He didn't blink. Everything he did, he did with a fluid power, a ripple of pure energy impossible to ignore. "To keep you safe, Corinne, I can do this small thing." He said it softly, patiently. "These people sprayed the stage with bullets where Desari was singing. She is a beautiful, vibrant woman, unique in this world, yet they were willing to murder her, to silence her voice for all time. They managed to wound Desari, Barack and me. We were lucky that Julian was there along with Darius to save us. I am not so willing to take a chance with your life. Or the life of your child."

"You said those men were gone. They aren't going to send someone around so quickly. We need our things, Dayan. Sooner or later we'll have to return. And Lisa is famous  -  anyone can find her." Corinne tapped her fingernail against her palm. "We could hire bodyguards."

His features remained expressionless, yet he went completely still, something deep within him roaring silently, raging immediate denial. For one moment Corinne thought she saw red flames flickering in the depths of his black eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She took a step backward, but his hand was still wrapped around the nape of her neck, anchoring her to him. "What is it, Dayan?"

His smile was slow in coming, his teeth very white. "What is it you see that you could possibly fear in me, honey?"

"I don't know... sometimes you look like something more than you are. I know that doesn't make sense, but you can look very intimidating." She brushed back her hair, a small shiver running through her body. "Let's go back."

"I do not want you to be afraid of me, Corinne. I realize it is unexpected the way we met and came together. You were not looking for such a thing, but it has happened. We cannot pretend or go back." His thumb was moving over her skin, a small caress, feather light, but so erotic she was shivering beneath his touch.

"I was talking about going back to your house," Corinne clarified, attempting to move out from under his hand. Was he using his unique mental telepathy to "push" her in a direction he wanted her to go?

Dayan shook his head sadly. "I thought we had covered all of this, honey. I am a wanderer, a poet, a musician. I am a male who has roamed the earth in search of one woman. I know that woman to be you. If I influenced your decision in my favor by using telepathy, our relationship would not last. What I want with you, I want for eternity."

Corinne turned away from him, from his brooding good looks and the smoldering intensity of his black eyes. He needed someone to love him. He looked so alone, standing tall and confident, yet so hungry for someone to love him. God help her, she wanted to be that woman. For just one time in her life she wanted something to be real.

Dayan reached out and took her hand, needing to pull her smaller body close under the protection of his wide shoulder. He simply walked beside her in the night, enjoying the moment, thankful he could feel it, savor it. Thankful she was in his world.

"Every line of every song, every note I've ever played was written for you, played for you. The other half of my soul. My heart. In the hope that you were somewhere in my world and you would hear." In her frail condition, Dayan didn't dare reveal the truth of what he was to her. He knew the healer would find a way to save her life. There was no other possible outcome. He was very concerned that there might not be a way to save the baby. He was a shadow in her mind, connected to her. He knew she was willing to trade her life for her daughter's life. He was not. He was her lifemate. It was his sworn duty to see to her health.

Corinne blinked back tears at the utter sincerity in his voice. "You can't say things like that to me, Dayan." If he did, she would be lost and so would he. How could she resist him?

Dayan smiled down at her, tightened his fingers around hers. With every step he took beside her, he felt the heat rising between them, felt the way she was wrapping herself around his heart. It was the little things, like feeling her hand so small, entwined with his. Her breath. The scent of her. The way she smiled. He loved the way she smiled, the way she moved. The way she fought so desperately to protect him from possible loss.

Deep within his heart he was learning about true terror. The thought of losing her was beyond the scope of his imagination. He had never experienced fear in his adult life. Even during battles with vampires, he had experienced no ripple of feeling through the long centuries to give him the wisdom to handle such an intense emotion. Terror. He tasted the word. Could he face the loss of his lifemate without ever having lived with her, without ever having the time to love her and bind her to him? Dayan knew he would not want to. His life had been bleak and empty, so barren and cold he had been losing his ability to create songs, to feel the music inside of him. But now, with Corinne close to him, songs and words and notes were pouring out of his soul, begging to be heard.

She was the world. Colors and excitement and beautiful poetry. He would not lose her to mortal death. He knew now where his ability to play, to create, had come from. It was her half of his soul. He had been left with some small part of her light when they had been split, to find their way back to one another. He felt the songs in her, the music. It was in the way she walked, the way she flowed through a room, her small, slender figure so balanced. It was in the turn of her head and the way her smile lit up a room.

There was something about Corinne, something that had drawn his eye immediately. Lisa was beautiful, tall and blond and quite obviously a model. She belonged on the covers of magazines. Corinne's light shone from the inside out. Just watching her made Dayan smile. When he touched her mind to share her thoughts, he found she was thinking of others, how they felt, what they needed. She was happy despite the fact that she had recently lost someone she loved, and believed she herself was going to die soon.

Corinne lived each moment as it was given to her, determined to see beauty around her, even while she grounded herself in reality.

Dayan found the way her mind worked interesting. She often used telekinesis without thinking about it. She would glance at an object across the room that she needed and she would start to draw it to her. He could feel the difference immediately in her brain, a warmth, the building of the image and the focus on it. The image was always sharp and crystal clear, and then she would remember she was not alone and would heave a small sigh.

"What?" She was smiling up at him, her intriguing dimple mesmerizing him, so that he had no other choice but to lean down and kiss it.

Butterfly wings fluttered in her stomach at the touch of his mouth against her skin. "You have to stop doing that," she told him softly, without much conviction.

"I thought I should practice as often as possible," he replied, rejecting her idea immediately. "I am without extensive experience, and I must make certain I do not lack in the area of a lover. After all, I wish to make you happy."

His voice was a whispered caress feathering over her skin. Corinne looked up at him, her large eyes dancing. "You know very well you don't need any practice at all. And you make me very happy." She reached up to touch his chin, a gentle brush of her fingers. "Tell me about your life."

"I am a wandering musician. That is the truth, honey  -  a poet who has found his missing heart. I have long been without it." It wasn't simply the words he said, it was the way he said them, with hunger in his eyes.

"Do you love playing?"

"It is who I am," he replied thoughtfully. "When I pick up my guitar, it is a part of me, like my arms. The notes and the words are somewhere deep inside me and they just flow out. I was born with this ability, a great gift bestowed on me."

His humility surprised her because he was usually very confident, so much so it bordered on arrogance. But not when it came to his extraordinary talent.

As much as she was enjoying walking with Dayan, she was already exhausted. She became aware of the way her heart seemed to struggle to find the exact rhythm of his. She smiled up at him as he bent down to swing her effortlessly into his arms. "You really can read my mind, can't you?" The sound of her own voice was more of an invitation than she would have liked.

"Of course."

"Do you have to be touching the person?"

"No. I was not always touching you when I was reading your mind. And I have never touched Lisa. It is easy to read the thoughts of mortals." He said it casually, so comfortable in her presence, he didn't think to censor his words. In the short time they had been together, he was already thinking of them as one, a partnership, life-mates rather than two separate entities.

Corinne's arms were clasped around his neck as he carried her through the night back toward the house where he and Cullen were staying. "Mortals? That implies all kinds of things, Dayan. Why would you use a word like

mortals?

Aren't you mortal?"