Shaking her head, she said, “Simple is right.”

He ripped off a piece of greasy chicken with his teeth and moaned as the flavor exploded in his mouth. His salivary glands kicked in and he was pretty sure his eyes rol ed back in his head. “I can’t believe you guys are here on earth and you can’t enjoy the cuisine.”

“I thought cuisine referred to food of exceptional quality?”

Trevor laughed at the skeptical look she shot at his bucket of fried poultry parts. “I was actual y thinking of my mother’s fried chicken recipe.”

Siobhán came over and lightly touched his biceps. “I’m going to make the rounds. I’l be back in a bit.”

“Want me to go with you?” he asked, grabbing a napkin.

“No. You need to eat.” Her touch managed to hold off the anxiety that starting building at the thought of her leaving him, even for a few minutes.

“Aurelia Will sit with you while I’m gone.”

“You won’t be long?” He was more than Will ing to forgo food if they were going to be apart for an appreciable length of time.

“A half hour, maybe.”

He glanced at the clock on the wal , briefly mul ing the thought of angels living by mortal time. “Okay.”

“You timing me?” she asked, with the faintest gleam of amusement in her eyes.

“I am, yes.” He smiled. If she could be amused, she could feel other things, too.

“I’d better get moving then.”

Trevor watched her walk out, taking a deep breath when the door closed behind her and the first tingles of panic raised the hairs on his nape.

“Are you all right?” Aurelia asked, reaching out to set a hand on his arm.

He pul ed away quickly, feeling his skin crawl. “Please don’t touch me.”

She frowned and he felt bad, but his breath was coming too quickly to explain right away. He took a moment to pul himself together, to push the remembered feel of greedy, vicious hands and mouths out of his mind. “I’m sorry, Aurelia. I just . . . touching . . . I’m not ready yet.”

Her frown deepened. “But you let Siobhán touch you.”

“I think she’s the only one who can. It’s not personal against you, I swear. I think I’m going to have trouble with anyone but Siobhán touching me. At least for a while.”

“But if you let me touch you, I can heal you so that you are ready.”

Trevor stared at her, realizing her cluelessness was for real. She really didn’t understand. But then, maybe she couldn’t. If she’d never felt emotion, how could she possibly empathize with what he was going through?

And yet Siobhán could. She had at least a smal spark of humanity in her. “Siobhán already healed me,” he said. “I wouldn’t be able to eat this if she hadn’t.”

“She healed your body,” Aurelia qualified. “She hasn’t yet healed your mind.”

He paused with a forkful of coleslaw lifted partway to his mouth. “How would she do that?”

She studied him with wide, curious eyes. “By touching you. We can go into your mind and wipe all memories of your ordeal away. No ordeal, no residual trauma.”

“Wipe away,” he repeated.

“Yes. Not repressed. Gone completely.”

“Wel .” Chewing, he thought about it. “I’m sure that comes in handy.”

And he wasn’t opposed. How could he be, if it took away the fear that even now vibrated through the very center of him? A fear that struck him the moment Siobhán left the room, both now and earlier when he’d dressed. And the shame. Not just at what had been done to him, but for the times when he’d been left alone in the pit for so long that he’d yearned for the vampires to come back. The times when he’d longed for their agonizing bites and the horror of their greedy demands on his ravaged body just so he wouldn’t be alone anymore. But what would that oblivion cost him? Surely there was a price.

He’d ask Siobhán about that as soon as they were alone again. He glanced at the clock. In twenty interminable minutes.

* * *

“Siobhán.”

She straightened abruptly from where she’d been leaning against the closed lab door, trying to regain her bearings. “Yes, Malachai?”

He approached her with a frown, looking formidable in his black jeans and T-shirt. “You’re treading dangerous ground, aren’t you?”

“Thin ice, perhaps,” she admitted. She would have left it at that, but the look on his face told her it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him. “Don’t worry, Mal. He won’t be here long enough for me to fal through.”

“I don’t understand what you’re waiting for. He’s fit now, and his mind is whole.” His brows rose. “Isn’t it . . . ?”

“Yes, yes. His mind is fine. He’s traumatized, but that’s to be expected. He just needs to regain some weight before I cut him loose.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the risk to you to wait.”

“It’s worth it to me. Once I wipe his memories of the last year, his recol ection of his appearance won’t match what he sees in the mirror. I could embel ish, but that opens him up to errors in continuity, which would only cause more stress.” She affected a shrug. “I gave him a pint of my blood.

He’l fil back out in just a few days and I’l make arrangements for him to work for Raguel.”

The archangel who oversaw North America would certainly have a use for a man with Trevor’s medical training and warrior’s heart. In fact, she could use him herself. There weren’t many Sentinels with her depth of interest in human anatomy.

Malachai reached out to her. She sidestepped nimbly, knowing he wanted to get a read on her state of mind. While she had nothing to hide, the confusion she felt toward Trevor seemed too personal to share.

“I’m okay,” she said more firmly.

“Is he the reason you feel so tormented? Or were you developing feelings prior to this?”

She looked up into her dear friend’s handsome face, seeing the puzzlement and fear in his seraph blue eyes. Fear for her.

It was one of the reasons she hadn’t been more specific in her talk with Trevor—she hadn’t told him it was the mating between angels and mortals that led to the Watchers’ fal . She didn’t want Trevor to fear the connection between them when she was presently the only person he trusted.

She’d read him when she squeezed his shoulder and knew he grew restless at the thought of being separated from her for too long. He was tolerating Aurelia just to avoid being alone. It was only his strength of Will that bought Siobhán thirty minutes to pul herself together. She, a being who had never been anything less than total y composed.

“Walk with me,” she said.

They moved down the hal way.

“Have you ever wondered if mortals are right about soul mates?” she asked. “If there is, perhaps, another soul out there destined to touch yours in ways no other can?”

“Is that what you think he is to you?” He shot her an alarmed look.

“No.” She was startled at the unease she felt, as if her negation was a lie. “I just wonder if his story—what he went through and how I found him —was ideal y suited to get to me and shake me up a little. Certainly it’s reminded me of what’s at stake, and that reminder came when I most needed it. Can that be a coincidence? Can it be wrong, when I’l definitely be more diligent and circumspect moving forward?”