The vampire looked Gabriel over, lips pursed. “What happened to the boy to whom deception sat like a rope around his neck? Who held life so dear he’d charge into a burning stable to save a handful of horses? Who would do anything to save one child, spare one mother the hell that his own mother had suffered?” Jean-François glanced at the sevenstar on Gabriel’s hand. “The boy whose faith in the Almighty shone bright as silver, and lit the dark like holy flame?” “The same thing that happens to all boys, coldblood.” The silversaint shrugged and finished his glass. “He grew up.”
