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away. "I'm just going to sit here with you and concentrate. You might feel warm in spots, but it won't hurt."
    Chelsea's eyes rested on Francesca's face, studying her expression before she decided to trust her. She nodded solemnly. "Go ahead, I'm ready."
    Francesca closed her eyes, focused on the child and only the child, driving every other thought from her head. She sent herself seeking outside her own body, becoming as insubstantial as energy, heat and light. Entering the child, she began a slow, careful examination. The child's blood was a mess. Massive attacks were being launched in the bloodstream and her pitiful antibodies could not possibly make inroads against the invading army. Francesca continued to look at each organ, the tissue and muscle, the brain itself. Sorrow swamped her for a moment, endangering her position within the child's body. She felt great empathy with this little girl who had suffered for so many years of her young life.
    She swayed, blinking rapidly, bringing herself back into her own body. As always, she felt disoriented and weak after an out-of-body experience. She sat for a moment in silence before she looked up at Brice.
    "Francesca." He said her name softly, in great hope. It wasn't a question. He was a doctor. He knew medically that Chelsea was dying, her body succumbing to the terrible army so ferociously attacking it. He looked exhausted, and sorrow etched his face. He had done everything within his power and it was nowhere near enough.
    "Maybe." Francesca glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three-thirty in the morning. How much time would it take to heal this child, to rid this worn-out body of every scrap of cancer? Would she be able to finish and still make it home before the sun came up? Did it matter? The child's life was worth the risk. And she didn't mind walking into the sun.
    "Leave me alone with her, Brice, and let me see what I can do." Francesca stroked back Chelsea's hair. "You go to sleep, honey, and we'll see if we can make you a little more comfortable." She waited until Brice had closed the door before she once more sent herself into the child's body.
    Time meant nothing at all when she worked as a healer. She was in Chelsea's small human form, holding her safe and warm with her mind, even as her energy fought the terrible battle for Chelsea's life. She was meticulous in her work, tireless, careful to ensure that not one vestige of the vile disease remained in Chelsea's body. She had no idea of the hours that passed or of her own strength waning until she found herself faltering, her body wearing out before her spirit had time to finish the task. At once she was flooded with power, a strong surge of enormous energy coming from a source outside her. She accepted the energy without question, certain of the origin. Of course Gabriel would know when she was risking her health; he was tied to her through their blood bond. Naturally he would reach out to help her. He was, after all, a male

    Carpathian. There was no deeper meaning to his aid. He certainly wasn't doing it because he cared for her.
    Francesca utilized the energy immediately, grateful even though she wanted nothing to do with Gabriel. Only one thing mattered: healing Chelsea's worn-out body and restoring her to good health. When she was certain she had eradicated every last bit of disease, Francesca returned to her own body.
    She was breathing heavily, trembling from head to toe. For a moment she remained slumped over the little girl, slowly recovering from the difficult task she had set herself. Added to the drain of healing was the effort necessary to shield her activity from all outsiders. Over the years she had learned to put up a barrier to hide the surge of power from Carpathians and vampires alike.
    Glancing up at the clock, she realized it was nearly five in the morning. She had to get home. As tired as she was, it wouldn't do to be caught out when the sun came up. As often as she said it didn't matter,