Carpathian 08 - Dark Legend

feel the presence of power woven into the patterns. Safeguards of a kind." Gabriel was slightly in awe of her healing talent. Few had it so strongly. Her touch alone could impart a soothing peace and he detected that same sense of peace in her work.
    She smiled, a quick flash of happiness that he would be interested in the things she enjoyed. She was glad finally to have someone she could talk to about her discoveries. "I started long ago working with small pieces. The idea was to use quilts and coverings of that nature to aid the sick. I often found when I examined a patient that there were other things involved than simply physical illness. Grief for the loss of a loved one, marital troubles, things like that. I began to experiment making specific items for individuals I had touched. I wove patterns that would aid my patients while they slept. Eventually my work became quite popular. People found they were drawn to the articles because they were so soothing." She glanced up at him. "I'm not explaining this very well. I just read people and know what they need and try to provide it. That's how it all started."
    "You are truly an amazing woman," he said softly. She astounded him with her accomplishments. "And now?"
    "I created a company. My identity is buried deep so if someone comes looking it will be difficult to find out who I really am." She grinned at him, her pride in fooling the ancient Carpathian males showing through. "I even added a safeguard to discourage human sleuths."
    "A Carpathian would feel the dusting of power and certainly recognize the ancient symbols in your work," he pointed out.
    "Naturally," she said complacently. "That is why I went to the trouble of creating a fictitious male Carpathian, an artist, who is a hermit. My work is often sought by Carpathians to safeguard their homes and bring peace to their environment. They send their orders through my company and I do the work. A few have asked to see the artist, but I always decline."
    "Any Carpathian worth his salt can distinguish the difference between the touch of a female or male."
    She raised her elegant eyebrow. "Really? Perhaps you underestimate me, Gabriel. I have lived for centuries in secret, undiscovered by the undead, by Carpathian males traveling through this city, and even by you and your brother. Although at times I suspected Lucian might have been aware of my existence. He returned often to this city and scanned more times than I care to count or remember."
    "He did?" That made Gabriel nervous. If Lucian suspected such a thing as a female Carpathian in this city, he would dig and dig until he found her. Nothing escaped Lucian's attention. Gabriel recalled how Lucian had led him back to Paris time and again. Even their last terrible battle had been here. Had Lucian somehow been aware of a female's presence? They had shared information all the time. What one knew, the other did, too. Would Lucian hide such knowledge from him?
    Francesca nodded solemnly. "Yes. I felt his presence often over the centuries, and I must confess I buried myself deep within the earth to hide from him. I was afraid of you finding me. I had lived alone so long doing whatever pleased me, and I no longer wanted a male in my life." She did not tell him that she had been afraid he might reject her again and she couldn't have borne it a second time.
    "Francesca, Francesca," Gabriel murmured softly, "what a little liar you have become. What is the good doctor if not a man? Why would you want the taste of love from one such as he?"
    She pulled her hand away from him, cutting him off from her soothing touch. Her face was averted, the curtain of hair concealing her expression from him. "That just happened unexpectedly."
    "You have lived with humans so long, sweetheart," he said softly, gently, "you have forgotten what it is like among our people, among lifemates, males and females. I am a shadow in your mind, in your thoughts. You can tell an untruth to Brice, but never to me. You have lived as a human and do not want to extend your own feelings be- yond their capabilities. You are afraid of the intensity of Carpathian emotions. I hurt you, Francesca, and you do not ever want to experience such pain again."
    She pushed at her long, wild hair and her hand was trembling, betraying her, even as she shrugged her shoulders with studied casualness. "I don't know if you're right. I certainly never blamed you. I was hurt at first, I was only a child, but I always