The priest’s eyes widened, but he remained quiet until Connor felt a twinge of guilt for raising his voice.

“Roman tells me you’re approaching your five hundredth birthday,” Father Andrew said in a soothing tone. “I’ve heard that can cause feelings of depression or—”

“Bull crap.”

“—or anger,” the priest finished his sentence with a pointed look. “In your case, I fear you’re shutting yourself off from your friends, which will result in you feeling even more alone. What do you think, Connor? Do you feel isolated?”

Not isolated enough since he was forced to endure this conversation. He shoved the annoying strand of hair behind his ear. “ ’Tis no’ the same anymore. All the men are getting married.”

“I heard that you disapprove of their relationships.”

Connor shot him an irritated look. “ ’Tis no’ that I want them to be lonely and miserable. They just doona see the risk they’re taking. There’s nothing more important to vampires than keeping our existence a secret. That has been our top priority for centuries, and they’re foolishly flaunting it.”

“They’re in love.”

Connor snorted.

“You don’t believe in love?”

Connor grimaced as if he’d been poked with a spear. Oh, he believed in love all right. Love was a bitch.

Father Andrew watched him closely. “There’s no need to feel alone, Connor. You could come to Mass with your friends and take Holy Communion.”

The wily priest was going for the jugular. Connor was purposely avoiding Communion. He’d been raised to believe he would have to go to confession first.

Father Andrew slipped on his reading glasses and removed a Day-Timer from his coat pocket. “I’d like to set up an appointment with you.”

“I’m busy.”

The priest ignored that remark as he thumbed through the pages. “Roman would give you the time off.”

“No thanks.”

“How about next Thursday evening at nine? I could meet you here.”