Andreas returned angrily to his loft apartment; his fury was a raging ocean inside him and when he slammed the door, the windows shook. The woman had entered the gallery looking specifically for him and Anansi had known'how could she make off with the girl, knowing his troubles?
In the silence and still prevailing dark, he stopped his mercurial advance when he saw a flicking tease of light from beneath the door to his inner chamber.
'Damn!'� He muttered striding to the heavy double mahogany doors and yanking them open.
The floor of the room was sunken; it dropped two steps from the threshold and opened into a sanctuary of comfort and rich, beautiful things. Tapestry hung from the walls, cushions scattered over the floor and inviting warm radiance flickered in wall sconces. A smirking Anansi sat, demure and comfortable upon the thickly carpeted floor, one eyebrow raised in amusement at his dramatic entrance. As lovely as always, she had shed her wrap from earlier at the gallery and Andreas noted her slender shoulders and the fall of her white-blonde hair. He tended to forget her beauty and her constant friendship when enveloped in his own sticky emotions. Swallowing his irritation, he went to her and grasped her shoulders, bringing her to her feet. She told Andreas of the girl's unusual entrance, and her conscious scanning of the crowd to find him when she had arrived.
'Anansi, love, I am grateful, as always.'�
'My pleasure, friend,'� she murmured. They turned their attention to the woman lying unconscious upon the lush cushions of the bed. Candlelight played upon her face; her creamy skin was pale, though she appeared unhurt. Andreas knelt beside her and brushed her copper hair from her brow. The lashes upon her cheeks caught the glinting of the candle flame and returned its fire, as did her hair. Her lips were full and pink; Andreas knew that Anansi had not fed from her, and he thanked her, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.
'Have a care, my handsome friend,'� she said, her expression becoming serious. 'She either has strength enough to withstand my power or she is other than she appears. She claims to have no name, and I have no reason to disbelieve.'� Her dark eyes were direct, and again a compelling gravity weighted her words. 'Take your pleasure, Andreas. She entered into our world uninvited, and she should leave the same way.'�
Frowning, Andreas looked down into the striking face of the woman. 'What human has no name? That isn't possible, Anansi.'� He slipped an arm around Anansi's shoulders and walked with her to the door. 'I shall be cautious, friend, but she will answer my questions to my satisfaction whatever her motivation, or I will have the reason why.'� Ignoring her raised eyebrow, he ushered her over the threshold and closed the door in her wake. Grimly, he returned to the chamber, entered and closed the door. He poured wine into two tall, exquisitely crafted crystal glasses. Beside the low, bed there stood a small, polished burl wood table that he had salvaged from his family's palazzo after the war. Andreas set the glasses there and shrugged out of his coat, released his thick black hair from the tie at the base of his neck and opened the collar of his plum-colored silk shirt. The girl was beautiful in an ethereal way'her skin was pale, even for a human, though the copper of her hair lent warmth as it framed her heart-shaped face. The lines of her body were slender even for her height, yet her figure curved appealingly. He watched her breathing a moment longer, then dipped his finger into the wine and touched it to her lips.
'Wake," he said softly.
Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned; a slender hand rose to touch her forehead and her tongue automatically took the drop of wine from her lips. Eyes the color of lapis lazuli opened and met his own. She gasped and her cheeks reddened as she became aware of his closeness and her position. Hopelessly confused, she backed away from him awkwardly until she met the headboard behind her.
'Where am I?'� though sweet and soft, her voice sounded unused and grainy as if she seldom spoke.
'You are my guest,'� Andreas stood, intending his height to intimidate her, 'for now.'� Panic filled her eyes, and he could tell that she had no more ability to withstand his vampiric power than any other woman did, and he felt consternation at Anansi's inability to extract even a name from this human. The girl continued to slide away from him and finally stood facing him across the bed.
'I would have the pleasure of your name, Miss. You have observed my movements, sought my notice, and while I am flattered by your attention, I will know the reason for it.'� He kept his tone polite, but cool. There would be no mistaking his intent. She looked at the floor, avoiding his gaze and her loose hair hid her face. She whispered something, and though Andreas was sure of her words, he stepped quickly to her, coming to her side around the minimal protection of furniture between them, and grasped her chin. Forcing her to look at him, he said:
'What was that, my dear?'� His stormy, intense gaze bored into her dazzling violet eyes and they welled with tears.
'Please, Andreas,'� a tiny sob escaped her. 'I haven't one.'� He realized he was gripping her face hard enough to whiten the skin beneath his fingers. Unnerved by his own annoyance and the extent of his anger he dropped his hand.
'I apologize. I am unused to such attention; likewise, I am unused to denial. You have no cause to fear me.'� He let go the growling anger simmering in his voice and replaced it with nonchalance. 'I would know how a grown woman has functioned without a name, however.'�
'I cannot explain. I would ask only that you trust, that you believe.'� Again, she hid her face behind a curtain of that amazing hair. He bent and retrieved the wine glasses from the table. Offering one of them to the girl, he cursed himself softly in Italian when he saw her fingers tremble as she accepted it.
'Molto misterioso,'� he smiled in spite of his irritation, 'Very mysterious. I have neither cause to trust or distrust, mia bellezza. Why were you at the gallery tonight? Few humans even are aware of its existence; much less enter its doors without a vampire companion.'� He began to advance on her again, and stopped himself when he saw her tense again. Gesturing to the wineglass, he asked her to drink. When she hesitated, he chuckled humorlessly. 'Where is this trust you speak of, mia bellezza? It seems there is little to be found on either side of this discussion.'�
She looked at him for a moment, and for the first time he saw spirit in her eyes as they sparked angrily. She then brought the glass to her lips. He was mesmerized briefly, by the way her lips pressed against the crystal, and the tip of her tongue that came forward to accept the drink. After a small taste, she smiled and took a larger one.
'Thank you,'� she murmured.
Andreas cleared his throat, pushing the sweet vision away. 'Welcome, bellezza.'� He lifted his own glass and drank deeply, relishing the flavor. 'I rarely drink these days it seems.'� He said, looking at the way the light played upon the empty crystal. He glanced at her; the girl appeared nonplussed, her eyebrows lifted, 'Wine, my dear, wine.'� Setting his glass aside, Andreas turned to look again at her exquisite face.
'I should question, also, your obvious knowledge of my nature; such breaches of secrecy are not allowed.'� He watched her intently, and she seemed to recognize that he would not allow this subject to drop. She took a deep breath and studied the swirl of claret in her glass.
'I watched you with the girl from last night. I saw her succumb to your advances, saw her enjoy your touch.'� She turned away and watched the candle in the wall sconce as it threw dancing shadows on the wall. He remained silent, wondering for the first time, what his intent toward this mysterious female should be. 'She gave more than blood, Andreas. She gave her will and her essence. You held her life and her soul in your hand. What responsibility, to have such power.'� Her voice trailed away, and Andreas stepped close to her again. She did not feel his approach, and when he placed his hand on her shoulder, she flinched violently, turned quickly, and dropped her wineglass. It struck the edge of the table beside her, and broke; the deep red wine beading like blood on the fibers of the carpet.
Flustered and embarrassed, she dropped to her knees and grabbed up the broken crystal. In her hurry, she cut her palm and hissed with the pain. Andreas took her wrist and pulled her to her feet. A shard of glass poked hook-like and cruel from her palm, though the crystal was so pure that the flickering candle flame in the wall sconces still shone within, like a prism, sending scattered light across her skin. He plucked it quickly from her hand, still without a word. He watched a fat bead of blood well from the cut and, without warning; his blood-teeth were full and sharp within his mouth. He stared at the perfect drop, the moment so still in time that he was aware of the pulse within the wrist he held, the soft brush of the fine hairs on her arm, his own reflection in the blood drop. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her; it was a mixture of the lavender and spice of her hair, her adrenaline and fear, the blood itself, and the lovely scent of female that stirred desire in his heart. Her voice brought him back to himself abruptly.
'Andreas, please!'� She was terrified, and he let her go immediately. With the sudden release of her wrist, she stumbled back. He shuddered and turned his back to her, his hands curled into fists and he fought the wild urge to hold her against the wall of the chamber and ravish her, violently loving her and satiating his hunger and desire in a few frenzied moments.
His voice was harsh when he finally addressed her. 'Why have you sought me? You have brought a chaos into my mind that I have mastered for decades!'� He faced her once more, trying to keep the white terror in her eyes from piercing his heart.
'You have such compelling passion, Andreas, such emotion and turmoil within you. I saw them both as you bent that girl to your will on the street. I saw your force and power as you took the life of the man that interrupted your tryst'�.'� She trailed off as she saw fury surface again in his face.
'Power, then? Is that the reason you have stalked me? Perhaps you think to ask me to give you that sort of power?'� He was flaming angry again, feeling humiliation that he had desired her so wantonly in the moment that he had held her hand. He had resisted such desires easily in the time since he had turned; he was incensed that she would so brazenly breach his privacy and his interests for such empty pursuits. She stammered, and he silenced her with an angry wave of his hand. 'Go, bellezza. You will find nothing here of interest. I have no desire to turn another. I have withstood decades of hungering humans wanting to bask in my presence for their own gain, and I am deeply disappointed in one that finally piqued my interest. Perhaps you may find an immortal that can enjoy you in the way that you wish!'� He grasped her arm and half dragged her out of the chamber and into the open loft, then to the door, the landing and the elevator. Crying and gasping, she faced him when he thrust her into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. Her long copper hair stuck to her white face where it was wet with tears. She bent over her wrist where he had clamped his hand on her arm. As the doors closed, she sobbed:
'You are wrong, Andreas! You do not know how wrong.'� The doors slid closed and she was gone.
Andreas stood a moment in the empty hallway, seething in his anger. With a sneer, he stalked back to his loft apartment and the empty chamber, slamming the doors as he went. His furious gaze fell on the glass he had held, and he snatched it up and threw it against the chamber wall, shattering it.

He had called her beauty, though she hardly felt it. She felt ragged and battered. The bruises on her wrist were nothing to the hurt in her heart. The angel had never experienced such pain; and she wondered how humans could stand to live with the agony that this rejection caused. Andreas' angry reaction rang in her ears, and she fled. She cried long past the rising of the sun and slept fitfully, his furious words following into her dreams. She felt his heat and desire pursuing her, though her memories were of a time when those harsh, compelling emotions could not sway her. Angels had no need for direction and no use for free will. The ability accept, the innate pull to do right was ingrained and a part of her being. Choice was not needed though it could intrude, given the right circumstances. Indeed the needs of the Maker could require that an angel be given a will of her own. Yet she had been unprepared, vulnerable to the lash and danger of emotions of the human state. She had been unable to ignore the fierce desire within Andreas' eyes when he touched her arm and she could easily imagine his lips and hands upon her. In an instant, he had turned from desiring to furious, and she had felt her heart nearly burst with fear. How could she bear the heat of his quick-changing emotions and hope to help him see his path?

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