"Okay, I guess I can start with what I told you about my family this morning. My father being killed, my mother raising me to twelve and so on." Valerie raised an eyebrow, half suspecting that he was going to tell her those were all lies. "It was all true," he assured her. "But I left out a couple of pertinent details." "What details?" she asked warily. Anders struggled briefly, and then admitted, "That it all took place in the fourteenth century. I was born in 1357." Valerie blinked as her brain tried to accept what he'd said, and then she stood abruptly. Anders immediately caught her hand. "You promised." "Well, and I would keep my promise if you'd care to tell the truth, but you can't expect me to sit here and listen to some nonsense about--" Her voice died abruptly when he opened his mouth and his canines suddenly slid forward and down forming two very long, pointy fangs. Valerie sat, not because she wanted to, but because her legs suddenly gave out on her. Memories were suddenly flashing through her head; cruel laughter, flashing fangs, excruciating pain . . . "Breathe," Anders said grimly, rubbing his thumb over her wrist and Valerie realized she was starting to hyperventilate. Trying to drive off the panic gripping her, she forced herself to take several slow deep, steady breaths. Once the threat of hyperventilating passed, she became aware that he was talking in a calm, soothing voice. "You are safe with me. You saw the bagged blood in the refrigerator. I will never hurt you. I am not like the man who kidnapped you. He's a rogue. Lucian, myself, and the others hunt his kind. I would never hurt you. You are safe with me."