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chill of his moods.
    “You covet her soul,” Syre purred, “because it’s the one thing that binds her to you.”
    “And to you.”
    “Yet you won’t let me bring her into full awareness. Why is that, Adrian? What are you afraid of? That she’ll weaken you all over again?”
    Nearby, the defiant young boy kicked his mother in the shin. She cried out. The startled baby in her arms flailed backward. Off balance and clearly beyond frustrated, the frazzled young woman lost her grip on the child.
    Adrian rushed forward, forcing himself to move at a natural human pace—
    —but Lindsay caught the infant first. Too swiftly. So damn swiftly it seemed as if the baby had never been in danger of hitting the floor at all. The mother blinked, her open mouth betraying her confusion at finding Lindsay directly in front of her instead of seated a few feet away.
    “Don’t forget,” Syre continued, “that soul you prize is clawing to the surface with every incarnation whether I help it along or not. Can you get to me before my daughter regains sentience? What will Shadoe think of you when it all comes back to her and she remembers the pain of the many lives you’ve cost her? Will she still love you then?”
    “I don’t forget anything. I certainly won’t forget what you owe me for the losses I’ve been dealt today.” Adrian killed the call, his focus narrowing on the woman who’d just revealed a colossal complication with her preternatural speed. Shadoe’s naphil gifts were strong in Lindsay, suggesting a deeper entwining of the two women than had been manifested in previous incarnations.
    He was running out of time. Souls grew in power with age and experience. It was an inescapable fact that Shadoe would one day have the strength to overpower the soul of the vessel she occupied.
    None of them was prepared for that.
    Shoving the phone in his pocket, Adrian closed the distance between them.

     
    Adrian Mitchell had immaculate feet.
    From her ridiculously comfortable seat in first class, Lindsay stared at the end of Adrian’s long, stretched out legs and realized she’d never paid much attention to a man’s feet before. Usually, she thought they were ugly: callused skin, crooked toes, absently trimmed and yellowed nails. Not Adrian’s. His feet were flawless in every way. In fact, everything about him was precisely symmetrical and expertly crafted. It was arresting how perfect he was.
    Looking up, she met his gaze and smiled. She didn’t explain her preoccupation with his sandaled feet. It didn’t seem necessary, considering the way he was looking at her. The sexual attraction was a given. It was hot and edgy and made her body go a little haywire, but there was something softer in his regard, too. Something tender, almost intimate. She responded to it with fierce propriety. A primitive part of her was growling, He’s mine.
    “You’re not eating your pretzel,” he noted, with that low sonorous articulation that made her want to settle in and stay a while.
    He was so stringently contained, rigidly controlled. Even when she sensed turmoil in him, he gave no outward indication of it. His voice was always smooth and even, his posture relaxed and confident. Even when he’d been pacing, he had done so leisurely. The combination of that tight leash and his unrestrained sexuality was a potent turn-on.
    It was her nature to make waves and stir things up, and she was going to do that with him. She was going to dig beneath that calm surface, because she was pretty damn certain still waters ran deep in him.
    “Do you want it?” she offered. “I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”
    His eyes sparkled with amusement and she realized he had yet to smile fully. Her life was dark enough as it was; she usually went for guys who were lighthearted and fun-loving. It was a testament to his appeal that his subdued intensity didn’t dampen her interest.
    “What would you like for dinner?” he asked.
    “Anything. I’m easy.” The