laughing. But the peculiar request had made sense. Cliff had resided at the network for over three years when Aidan came to him. And he’d spent much of that time listening to the lives of the employees play out like a massive soap opera. Who better to help him sift through the list of gifted ones from the network’s employee roster and select those who might be amenable to the Celt’s approach?
Cliff didn’t think he’d be up to the task today, but he was desperate for a distraction.
The lock on the heavy door clunked. Clinging to control by his fingertips, he didn’t look up as Aidan entered.
The ancient immortal closed the door, then sat down beside him. Aidan had been born with several astonishing gifts, one of which was telepathy. It shamed Cliff to know that Aidan could hear the vile demands of the voices and see the horrific images that flickered through his mind like loathsome subliminal messages.
Aidan never blamed him though, or disparaged him. Having glimpsed what transpired in Cliff’s fractured mind—the things Bastien and Melanie could only guess at—Aidan actually seemed to respect Cliff and hold him in high esteem for being strong enough to reject it.
His big hand clasped Cliff’s shoulder. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Cliff whispered, trying hard to modulate his tone and resist the urge to shout over the noise only he heard.
“Stand up,” Aidan ordered.
Lowering his clenched fists, Cliff did so and focused on his friend.
“Don’t be afraid,” Aidan murmured.
Before Cliff could respond, a feeling of weightlessness engulfed him as darkness replaced his apartment.
In the next breath, blindingly bright light bathed him. Not indoor lights, but…
Oh shit.
Sunlight.
Cliff tensed.
Aidan’s fingers tightened on his shoulder, preventing him from bolting for the trees nearby. “Don’t.”
Panic flooding him, Cliff threw up his hands to shield his face and gritted his teeth against the pain he knew would come. The violent voices in his head shrieked and wailed.
A moment passed.
Agony failed to surface. Flaming pain did not sear his skin. His eyes hurt a little from the brightness, driving him to squint. But other than that…
Nothing.
Slowly lowering his hands, Cliff stared down at his exposed arms.
His smooth brown skin remained healthy. No blisters formed. No pain struck.
The heartbeat that had begun to slow picked up once more as he looked up at Aidan with wide eyes. “How is this possible? Am I hallucinating? Is this…? Am I having another psychotic break?” If he was, he hated to admit it but he hoped it would last a little longer. He’d been a vampire and only ventured out at night for so long that he no longer even dreamed of being in the sun.
“No.” Aidan smiled. “I can heal with my hands and am using my gift to heal the damage the sun is doing in real time.”
Astonishment rippled through him. “You can do that?” He’d never heard of such a thing.
Aidan nodded. “I wasn’t sure I could until I tried it with Ethan. I can’t say he was very pleased about being my guinea pig, but he owed me.”
A little huff of laughter escaped Cliff. “Well, you did transform his wife for him so she’d be superstrong.” As the last of his fear drained away, Cliff closed his eyes and tilted his face up to the sky. “It’s warm,” he murmured with a hint of wonder. “I’d forgotten how warm sunlight can be. That you can feel it on your skin.” It even banished the chill contemplating his own demise had spawned.
“With your heightened senses, you feel it a little more now.”
A lump rose in Cliff’s throat. Even this simple bit of normalcy had been denied him for six long years. When he opened his eyes, he had to blink back moisture. “I never thought I would feel it again. Not unless…”
Not unless he decided to spare Bastien and Melanie by choosing to end things by walking into daylight and letting the sun sear the madness—and his life—away.
Aidan squeezed his shoulder. “Every day you hold out, Cliff, every day you keep fighting, I’ll give you this. I’ll give you the sun.”
Cliff stared at him, stunned speechless, afraid to grasp yet another tenuous thread of hope. “Doesn’t it hurt you?”
The Celt shrugged. “It’s a mild discomfort at most.”
Bullshit. Aidan might be ancient enough to tolerate some sunlight. But Cliff wasn’t. As soon as sunlight touched him, he began to sunburn and blister, something that had tipped him off something was seriously wrong after he’d transformed. And the