No matter how often he and Claire roamed the streets of Manhatten at night, there seemed to be an endless supply of criminals. But even though at first he’d vowed not to get involved in humans’ problems, one look at Claire’s pleading face, and he knew that he couldn’t deny her anything. God, how he’d grown to love this woman. It was time to tell her just how much. “You know we have to help them,” she’d said shortly after their arrival in New York, when they’d come upon a man robbing an elderly couple at gunpoint. “If we don’t do it, who will?” Who indeed? So he’d given in. And—grudgingly—he had to admit to himself that he liked helping people, saving those who couldn’t save themselves. And the more humans he and Claire saved the more of his humanity he seemed to regain. The goodness in Claire’s heart was contagious, and she’d clearly infected him with it. Though there was no way in hell he’d admit it to anybody. After all, who’d ever heard of a nice vampire?
