understand

exactly how you feel."

"You just 'old it right there!" Joey said, backing away from him. "Who are

you?

'Ow'd you know me name?"

"I know a lot of things about you, Joey," said the red-haired man. His eyes

seemed to see down to the very depths of Joey's soul. "I know how you were

abandoned by your mother, and that you grew up in a foundling home. Alone.

Unwanted. I know how you've been made to suffer all your life, simply because

you don't look the same as others. I know all about the painful taunts, the

innumerable beatings, those countless expressions of disgust and loathing,

the

comments made not quite out of your hearing"— the red-haired stranger looked

down at the unconscious Mary Spring—"and the rejection, even by such as

these,"

he added softly.

Joey trembled as he listened to the red-haired stranger catalog his life. His

jaw hung slack and his breathing became labored. His entire world had become

centered around the red-haired stranger's luminous, compelling gaze. He heard

nothing but the lilting, haunting sound of the red-haired stranger's voice.

He

couldn't speak. He couldn't move.

The red-haired stranger sadly shook his head. "This slut would degrade

herself

for the price of a cheap drink, with anyone, anyone at all... only not with

you."

Joey was on the verge of tears.

"And why?" the red-haired stranger continued, looking deeply into Joey's

eyes.

"What do they know of you, of what you think, of what you feel? What do they

care? Outward appearance is the only thing they see. You could have a heart

as

black as pitch, a soul a thousand times more loathsome than a rotting,

maggot-ridden corpse, yet give you pleasing features, a charming manner, and

an

easy smile, and they would come and lay their whole world at your feet. Very

well, so be it. Behold..."

The red-haired stranger made a languid gesture and an ornate, gilt-framed,

full-length minor appeared mounted on the alley wall. It seemed to glow

faintly.

Startled, Joey glanced at it, and his breath caught at what he saw reflected

there.

It was the face of a young man of stunning beauty, with flowing, wavy,

jet-black

ban: and classic, darkly handsome features. The mouth was full and sensual,

the

teeth were dazzlingly white and perfect, the chin was firm and slightly

pointed,

the cheekbones prominent, the jawline graceful, the skin without a blemish.

Intense, dark eyes looked back at him with a knowing, blatantly sexual

expression.