He leaned close and whispered, "Yer heart is racing. Yer cheeks are on fire." He smiled slowly. "And now yer eyes are flashing an angry, but lovely, shade of green."
"You're like a human lie detector." She glared at him. "It's very aggravating to lose the option of lying."
He chuckled as he curled a hand around her elbow. "They say confession is good for the soul."
The sound of singing drifted from the chapel. Deep, male voices. The Vamps were singing a hymn.
"Why does a Vamp worry about the state of his soul?" she whispered. "You could live forever."
"None of us live forever."
"So you're praying for salvation?" She guessed that made sense. Who would need redemption more than a vampire?
"I pray for many things, Toni." His hand slid down her arm, then lingered by her fingers. "I pray ye'll trust me with the entire truth."
And she would pray that he understood.
CHAPTER 15
Ian found comfort in the old, familiar chants and prayers. Over the centuries, the world powers could change, technology advance, mortal friends pass away, but Mass remained much the same. And the scent of Christmas remained the same. He breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of fir tree garlands and lit Advent candles.
Tonight there was another scent, one that kept luring him away from holy thoughts. Type AB positive. His favorite flavor. It emanated from Toni, who sat beside him in the back row. She'd removed her jacket and folded it on her lap. Her hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. What had happened to make her desperate enough to reveal her secrets to him?
When he'd first wakened and realized she was gone, he'd checked her tracking device on a computer. She'd gone back to that psychiatric hospital. By the looks of her clenched hands and pale face, something at the hospital had upset her. Was it somehow connected to her taking the job as their guard?
Father Andrew began his homily, and Ian tried to focus on the priest instead of the heavenly body next to him.
"As you know, I never reveal anything I hear during confession," Father Andrew began. "But I would like to speak tonight about a common thread I've heard many times, and each time I hear it, it grieves me greatly. Many of you believe you don't deserve happiness or love. You feel you are not worthy."
Ian heard Toni breathe in sharply.
"Whereas a mortal has one short lifetime to experience regret," the priest continued, "a Vamp can live much longer and rack up a greater amount of regret and guilt. Some of you believe you've taken the grand prize in unworthiness, that there is no hope for your soul. You fear God can never forgive you. And because of your self-condemnation, you're unable to forgive yourself."
Toni pressed a hand to her mouth. Ian saw her eyes were squeezed shut. What was wrong? He hoped she wasn't going to cry. He couldn't bear to see a woman cry.
"You know your past failures, your mistakes," Father Andrew said. "But know this, too—you are still children of the Heavenly Father, and your Father loves you."
A small noise came from Toni that sounded like a stifled whimper.
"Do not believe you are unworthy of love, for God loves you. And do not let your past sins torment you. If God can forgive you, why can you not forgive yourself?"
Toni jumped up and ran out the back door.
Ian stared at the closed door. Dammit to hell. Why would she be so upset? He'd seen her personnel file. She was only twenty-four years old. Her worst offense was a bloomin' traffic ticket. She was an angel compared to the bloody Vamps in this room, himself included.
Father Andrew droned on and on and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. And Toni was off somewhere, crying.
He slipped out the door and followed the sound of her sniffles. She was sitting in the refreshment room, doubled over with her face in her hands.
"Toni, are ye all right?" Stupid question, he chided himself. The lass was crying.
She sat up and wiped her face. "I'm okay."
"What's wrong? Did the priest upset you?"
"I'm sure he means well." She stood and wandered toward the table of mortal food. "I'm sure he's right about forgiveness, but…"
Ian stepped closer to her. "But what?"
"I–I've never been able to forgive myself."
"Lass, what could ye have possibly done? Ye're so young and…innocent."
She turned toward him, and he winced at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. "I–I let my grandmother die."