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claime d my conscience at the thought.
    This is the answer, to go with him.
    He pushed me back by the shoulders so he could look me in the eye and offered another grin. “Guess that’s a no, huh?” His brow furrowed when I began to feel the cold again and shivered. “You’re freezing…” He moved to pull my hands from my cloak and began to rub them down.
    His warmth sank through his gloves and into my skin. There was a moment when our eyes met and he seemed to ponder his own actions. Confusion was pushed aside by determination in the end. In him I saw for the briefest of moments, for the first time in a century, the strength of men.
    “I’m Cain, by the way.”
    He paused after, but did not ask for my name. I watched him fight the war within himself. Would he leave me here? Could I even follow him now I was beginning to feel again? My eyes fell to our joined hands, where his thumb was brushing slow circles over my upturned palms. My shiver came not from the cold then.
    “So,” he began, almost nervously, “ I don’t normally do this, but… would you want to come with me? My place ain’t much, but it’s warmer than this.”

“ He would literally do anything for me…”
    -ruth
     
    Chapter 3
    To Breathe, To Feel
     
    Cain drove a battered old motorcycle, the sort that spoke of journeys taken and better years gone by. After I settled in behind him, we flew. I had never ridden in a car, train or boat unless absolutely necessary. Never had I felt the wind in my face like this, the sting of cold sleet biting my cheeks.
    Chains kept his t ires from skidding over the ice and the same power I had noticed in his every movement manifested here. Pressed against him with my arms around his waist, I could no longer feel the cold.
    Home for this human was a flat among dozens in a rundown old neighborhood. Allowing my senses to stretch farther , I could feel the pain and heartache in most. Happiness and love were nearly nonexistent.
    He parked and locked his bike next to a row of others, lifting me effortlessly to stand ankle deep in snow. His arm sheltered me up the walk, to the first of many steps to his home. I gasped when my legs buckled and threatened to give out, bracing my hand on the gritty rail. Without another word he swept me up in his arms and carried me the rest of the way.
    Human life was a messy , noisy din around us, but I had learned long ago to drown most of it out.
    He glanced down at me briefly before plugging his keys into the lock. “Sorry my place ain’t much to look at.”
    A single dim glow came from a nearby glass case. After flipping on the lights, he turned and shut the door with one hand, bracing me to him with the other.
    I wrapped my arms about his neck and rested my forehead on his chest. For one stolen moment I imagined I was human again, my curse broken. But the compulsion of my new mission fell like a brass weight about my neck. Behind my closed lids I could still see Lissa’s emerald eyes as she stole a glance at Cain. I remembered his longing for her.
    “Sorry ’bout the mess,” he said as his chest vibrated beneath my face. “Wasn’t expecting company.”
    He swept aside a stack of papers before he set me to rest on an old couch. His home was small and sparse. An antique table sat in front of the couch, covered with more papers, books and empty cans. Workout equipment covered one corner of his living room. Past this was something I had not thought to see again. The stereo was long and tall, and the turntable open and ready for a fresh record.
    When I turned to search for the kitchen my eyes met a pair of long, jean-clad legs and traveled up their length to his belt and tucked-in black shirt. He popped his knuckles repeatedly into his palm and shifted from one foot to the other. Again I could feel his nervousness through the link that connected him and Lissa to me.
    Keeping my head bowed low, I noticed he had already pulled off his leather jacket and scarf.
    When he noticed my