Embrace the Night

Page 18



He stood on the balcony and stared at the rain, wondering why it reminded him of tears, and then, riding on the heels of the wind, he heard the sound of weeping.

Between one breath and the next, he was down the stairs and out the rusty iron gate, running with demon speed through the night, her name like the prayer of the damned on his lips.

He vaulted the wall of the orphanage with ease, crossed the grounds as silent as a shadow. Pausing at the veranda door, he peered inside. She lay beneath a heavy quilt, as still as death.

The complete absence of sound within the room echoed in his heart like thunder.
A wave of his hand opened the door and he stepped inside, then hurried to her side.

"Sara!" He threw back the quilt and lifted her into his arms. Her skin was dry and cold; her lips were blue. "Sara!"

She was dying. The knowledge struck him to the heart. She was dying, and it was his fault.

Without stopping to think of right or wrong, without pausing to consider the consequences, he opened the vein in his wrist and pressed it to her lips.

"Drink, Sara," he urged.

He waited for what seemed an eternity, but she didn't move. Frantic, he forced her lips apart, held his bleeding wrist over her mouth, and stroked her throat to make her swallow.

Not too much, he thought. He didn't want to initiate her, only bring the color back to her cheeks. He removed his wrist from her mouth, and the wound healed almost instantly. "Sara?" Her eyelids fluttered a moment and then she was staring up at him. "Gabriel?"
He cradled her against his chest, relief rushing through him. "I'm here."
"You didn't come. I waited and waited… and you didn't come." "I won't leave you again, cara."

There was a bowl of broth and a glass of water on a tray on the bedside table. The soup had gone cold, but he warmed it with the heat of his gaze.

"Sara, I want you to eat this."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please, cara, for me." "All right…"

Obediently, she swallowed several spoonfuls of the clear broth.