Embrace the Night

Page 175



"Y… yes."

A thin thread of hope spiraled through Gabriel. "I need your help."
Another groan rose up out of the darkness.

"They've taken Sara."

"What… can I… do… ?" "Can you reach me?"
"I'll… try."

Minutes passed. Long, agonizing minutes while Maurice slowly inched toward Gabriel.
"The cross," Gabriel said, his voice a harsh rasp of pain. "Get rid of it."

It seemed as though hours went by while Gabriel waited for Maurice to summon the strength to lift his arm, to remove the heavy silver cross from his chest.

Gabriel closed his eyes in relief, felt a small measure of his strength return. Lying there, he put everything from his mind but his hatred, his rage. He let it build within him, filling him until it consumed him, and then, with a mighty flexing of his muscles, he broke the chains that bound him.

Staggering into the kitchen, he stripped off his clothes and boots and scrubbed away all trace of the holy water. His skin was badly burned; in places, it hung from him in shreds of charred flesh.

He needed blood.

Slowly, he made his way into Sara's bedroom. For a moment, he closed his eyes and inhaled, letting her scent wash over him. Moving carefully, he slipped on a loose-fitting black shirt and breeches. Returning to the kitchen, he pulled on his boots, then went into the parlor. He put on his cloak, then knelt beside Maurice. The man was barely breathing; the back of his skull had been crushed, his hair was soaked with blood.

"Delacroix?"

Maurice's eyelids fluttered open. "Sara?" "I'll find her."

"You… look… half-dead…" "I am dead," Gabriel said flatly.

A wry grin pulled at Maurice's lips. "Me… too…"

There was no point in lying to him, Gabriel thought. At best, Delacroix had only a few minutes to live.
"My blood…" Maurice whispered hoarsely. "Take it… find… Sara."