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the shock and so hadn't seen him or what he did. He was grateful for that. Pulling a cloth from his pocket, he wiped his mouth then held his hands over the flame of the candle, watching the blood burn off. Pulling his cape around him to cover his shirt, he picked up both sleeping children. Then he kicked the candle to the floor, watching it flicker, sputter, and take on new life, igniting the shirt of a dead man. He kicked an oil lamp off a table and watched the contents run across the floor, meeting the flame. Satisfied the fire would burn hot, he put a boot to the door and left the building with the children safe in his arms.
    ~ * ~
    Gavin kept to the shadows, running as quickly as he could to get the children out of the city. When he was a safe enough distance from the condominiums, he hailed a coach and loaded the children into it, climbing in beside them. Instructing the coachman to drive to Melbourne Street, Gavin settled back and closed his eyes for the duration of the short ride.
    Once at the inn, Madison Hawklin, his friend and confidant, and the only one outside of his family who knew about his peculiar abilities, would take charge of the children and care for them. When they had slept, eaten, and were properly dressed, Madison would escort them out of Breckenridge, to an undisclosed location where Gavin had constructed, and supported, a boarding school for children just like these.

Chapter Four
Children In Mind
     
    "Good evening, Mrs. Elliott," Gavin said with an amused smile.
    " Mr. Stone! What…" Angela was startled, caught in such a compromising position.
    "I wasn't spying on you, I assure you," he replied with a chuckle. "But what on earth are you doing?"
    "Well, I was… well, now." She seemed at a total loss for words as she looked around. It seemed she just realized what a predicament she had gotten herself into and looked at him with a crooked grin as her cheeks flamed.
    "It looks to me as if you were about to land on your, well, land on your… not on your feet." He assessed the situation, trying not to laugh out loud.
    "Shh," Angie admonished him. "If Mrs. Waterston hears you, I'll never hear the end of it." Gavin covered his mouth as if the effort not to laugh out loud was too much for him. "Oh, stop it!" Angie hissed. "Just get over here and help me, for pity's sake."
    Gavin stepped carefully around the rose bushes, hiked one leg over the white picket fence, and then wrapped his arms around Angela's waist, plucking her off the banister, where she found herself stuck. As soon as she was steady in his arms, she looked up and their eyes locked. Gavin felt his heart skip a long beat, as Angie licked her lips.
    "My… my chair is over there," she whispered hoarsely. Gavin nodded, but stood where he was, showing no inclination to put her in the chair.
    He felt himself slipping, spiraling into unknown territory. Like his last name, he was definitely as hard as stone now, and he wanted her with a desperation he'd never before known. Wearing only the thin nightgown, he could feel every sensuous curve of her body, her muscles, and how toned she was. He expected her muscles to be flabby, to have begun to atrophy after two long years in a wheelchair, but she was firm where she should be, and oh, so soft everywhere else. Her nipples were evident through the thin material and Gavin felt his breath catch.
    Gavin felt his fangs emerge; they only did that when ready to sink into someone's throat, ready for a kill. Never before had they unsheathed when he was sexually aroused, and that pulled him out of the trance.
    He dragged his eyes away from hers and gently set her over the railing and into her wheelchair. He cleared his throat. "There you are, Mrs. Elliott, safe and sound," he said, hearing the gravel in his voice.
    "Yes," she replied a little unsteadily. Gavin wondered if she were as affected as he. "Thank you, Mr. Stone."
    "You are welcome, Mrs. Elliott," he answered stiffly. "I had better take my leave now.