“I can see the lies forming,” Gabriel remarked casually from the hallway, where he’d been watching her prepare. Pushing away from the doorjamb, he entered the room and sank into the rocking chair. “It’s fascinating, really. Your eyes narrow in concentration, like you have to plan out the full story. Account for every detail. Then your mouth purses with determination. But I never see any remorse.”

Beneath the even tone, Erin heard the disappointment, and tried to banish the shame. She would lie if she had to, be honest if she must. He would know the difference, but she thought about lying anyway.

He had no claim to her story. But she remembered his arms holding her close, his gentle murmurs of comfort, and they defeated her. “Ask your questions.”

“Who is Nathan Rhodes?” The question had snaked around his heart, sinking venomous fangs deep. The name had followed him into agitated sleep and dragged him awake several times, when she’d called out the cursed name and scrabbled to hold Gabriel, or probably Nathan, closer. “Is he another lover? Like the phantom Sebastian?”

Slowly, Erin shook her head in mute denial. “Sebastian is my best friend. And Nathan and I were never lovers.” She shuddered at the recent memory. She paused then, searching for the most apt description that cloaked the reality. “He was my mentor.”

Gabriel marveled at the rush of relief, followed quickly by exasperation. He cared too much about a single answer. Yet he was determined to have all of them. “Where is he now?”

“California.” She met his look steadily, and she wondered if she would eventually give him even that final satisfaction. “But you won’t find him.”

“Of course not,” he agreed straightforwardly. “He’s dead.” Gabriel smiled at her, a thin, humorless smile. “Did you kill him?”

Her stunned expression, guilt layered with apprehension, should have answered his question. But the eyes, the huge, expressive brown eyes that telegraphed her thoughts so clearly, were filled with confusion. That was why, when she finally responded, he wasn’t sure if he should believe.

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, his arms near her bent legs. Absently, he lifted her cold hand, a habit he couldn’t seem to break. “What did he do to you?”

The kind touch, the unexpected compassion, scorched her skin. She jumped up from the sofa, black tresses streaming behind her. Emotions, tangled and muddied, struggled to find their core.

She walked over to the window, the sunlight breaking through the glass. Resting her hands against the panes, she could feel the heat on her skin. She wondered if she could ever be warm again. “He took everything from me.”

“Why?”

“Because I allowed him to.” A sneer curled her lip. “I was weak. Pathetic.”

Gabriel joined her at the window, not near enough to crowd. “You’re not weak, Erin. I’ve never known a braver woman than you.”

He didn’t understand her sad smile.