"Gennie, just let me talk to you for a moment, I promise I will not hurt you." His voice echoed through the endless wooden seats and appeared to submit her to paralysis. Her cleaning mop clinched white knuckled in her fingers was poised, frozen mid-air with water dripping from it onto the floor. Gabriel felt like such a damn fool standing there too far from her to capture her. Would she recognize French? He could only hope. Genevieve would. The Dernier Sorcière would be able to hear him even if she was deaf to humans. He tried his theory. "Gennie, laissez moi vous parler d'un instant, je promets que je ne vous nuira pas." Recognition flickered in her big grey eyes. He felt traces of her power run along his senses. She dropped the mop and fled. Gabriel stepped forward sending his power out to her in a caress. His cape floated and crackled with his force.
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