Free Chosen by Fate by Virna Depaul Page A

The instant he’d met Wraith, he’d known there was nothing evil about her. She was lost and damaged, but she had goodness in her, too.
    She’d proven that time and again.
    The fact that he couldn’t help her—heal her—rubbed him raw.
    He wanted to give her more tonight than forgetfulness. Assuming he could even give her that.

SIX
    W raith stepped out into a garden. Despite the fact she saw only bare branches, she knew they were actually blooming with roses, magnolias, and camellias. She’d heard other guests commenting on their beauty, and if she concentrated, she could almost smell their distinct sweetness in the air. She stumbled slightly when she felt a warm breeze against her skin, one that actually invaded her body and stayed awhile. The warmth was gone in just a few seconds but to a being who was perpetually cold, the sensation had been a small slice of heaven. Fleeting, yes, but still something that might comfort her in the end.
    Shaking her head, she stepped farther into the garden. Lucky vamps. Even though it was an early evening smack-dab in the middle of spring, the Dome would maintain this same pleasant weather—neither too hot nor too cold, whether day or night—when the rest of the state sweltered in the summer or froze in the winter. No wonder she wasn’t alone. There were several individuals wandering the manicured paths, so she immediately headed around the side of the house to what looked like a delivery dock and service area. A door to what she assumed was the kitchen was closed. To her right, a dense grove of trees shaded a grass-covered knoll, the perfect spot for picnicking or playing, but also for watching the comings and goings of Knox’s staff in order to gain entry into his home.
    She’d have to talk to the vamp about—
    Wraith’s senses went on alert when she spotted movement in the trees. Although her muscles tightened, she immediately loosened them and kept walking so as to appear unconcerned. It could just be an adventurous guest who, like her, was simply looking for a little escape from the merriment inside.
    That’s what she’d told herself earlier, too.
    Upon first arriving, she’d also felt like she was being watched. Tracked. Then, when she’d encountered Colt inside the grand house, the feeling had gone away, and she’d assumed it had been him looking for her. She no longer believed that. Wraith didn’t have this kind of feeling more than once without reason.
    Just to confirm it was actually her and not the house her observer was interested in, however, Wraith turned and headed back toward the gardens. She grabbed a glass of champagne from a wandering waiter. Taking her time, she strolled the gardens and pretended to indulge in the champagne. She even smiled as she passed a few of the guests, couples clearly immersed in each other rather than their surroundings. She stifled her instinctive disdain for their carelessness, then thought of Caleb. Had he returned? Was he looking for her?
    She wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t let this feeling of being watched go unexplored. It was more intense now. She felt someone’s gaze pressing on her body. Idly, she glanced around and noticed a big, well-dressed male just behind her and to her right. He averted his gaze.
    Bingo.
    Putting her glass down on a stone pedestal, she made her way back toward the service area, moving behind a high retaining wall that led to an alley with a refuse area.
    A few seconds later, the male stepped into view. Wraith grabbed his arm, yanked him around, and shoved him face-first into the wall. With her other hand, she shoved her pistol into his side. Hard. Although she expected him to grab at her with his other arm, he didn’t. Instead, his body remained slack and he rested the palm of his free hand flat against the wall. He didn’t gasp, didn’t groan. He barely even seemed to breathe.
    “Who are you?” she snapped.
    “A friend,” was his only response.
    Wraith laughed. “I don’t have