At the unfamiliar voice, she faced the two men standing outside her kitchen. She didn't even notice the stranger; her gaze was arrested by Gabriel. The muscular frame, black gaze, dark clothes all looked the same. But he was changed. It was in his relaxed stance, the steadiness of his gaze. She'd always known he was strong. This time, she sensed restrained power of a different kind. Worse, whatever tormented him since they met was no longer an issue. He was comfortable with himself.
The other Gabriel didn't know what to do about her. This one might. After rejecting then pining for him for a few days, she wasn't ready for him to be less confused than she was.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
Death smiled so faintly, she barely saw it. He tipped his head towards the man he'd brought with him.
"I made an attempt to teach him to dress," the night-skinned man in front of her said as she met his gaze. His eyes were the most beautiful blue-purple she'd ever seen.
She liked him immediately. The air felt a little heavier around her as he spoke, compelling her attention to him. Deidre cocked her head to the side.
"You don't remember me," he said.
"I don't know you from Adam," she retorted.
Gabriel chuckled. "It really isn't funny."
"Be of use, Gabriel, and fix my chili peppers," she ordered then addressed the stranger. "I'll get you some wine."
She turned to the wine chiller and pulled out the bottle she opened when she returned home from the street fair. She grabbed a glass, returning to the counter. Gabriel had dumped her wine before starting to replace the lights.
It was hard to ignore him when he was only a few feet away. Overly aware of his presence, Deidre stepped outside the kitchen to the breakfast counter and poured two glasses of wine.
"I'm Andre," the newcomer said. "Deidre, I presume?"
"Yep. I'm sure I screwed you over in my past life, too."
"Only to kill me."
She met his gaze. "Another dead guy. Like Wynn."
"My father."
"How is he?" she asked with more eagerness than she intended.
Andre motioned for her to sit on one of the stools at the counter. She did, waiting for his response as he sat.
"He is well enough."
"Ah. Of course." She rolled her eyes at the vague response. "What brings you all to my neighborhood?" She found herself watching Gabriel as he stretched upwards to fix the lights. His shirt stretched tightly over his shoulders and across his back while his biceps flexed and the roped muscles of his forearms rippled with his tinkering. His lean torso, narrow hips and the outline of muscular thighs reminded her too well why she wasn't able to get him out of her mind.