Embrace the Night

Page 59



when I kissed you… Did I displease you? Is that why you want to send me away?"

"No, Sara." He reached for her hand, then thought better of it and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "It's just that you're so young, cara…"

"And you're so old?"

"Older than you can imagine," he answered with a trace of bitterness. "I want you to see the world you've been missing. I want you to have a chance to spread your wings."

"But… I'll miss you."

Pain lanced Gabriel's heart. She might miss him for a week, perhaps a month, but he would miss her through all the endless days and nights of eternity.

Chapter Ten

Gabriel sat in his favorite chair, staring blankly into the darkness. Five years had passed since he'd sent Sara to France. Five years was but a moment in the life of a vampire, he thought ruefully, yet each day of those years had seemed an eternity.

He had found no joy in his existence with Sara gone from him. Reading held no pleasure; there was no solace in music. He haunted the ballet, torturing himself as he gazed at the ballerina and imagined Sara in her place.

He fed in spurts. He had no appetite and fed only when the hunger grew excruciating, clawing at his insides like a wild beast until he thought he would go mad. Only when the hunger grew unbearable did he leave the abbey, prowling through the back streets for nourishment.

Even then, he took little, only enough to sustain his existence, hating what he was because it kept him from what he wanted.

Five years… She would be almost twenty-two now, a woman grown. And suddenly he knew he had to see her again, just once, and then he'd go to ground and sleep until her life was over and she was eternally safe from his hunger.

She was starring in Giselleat the Paris Opéra. The theater was an amazing piece of architecture, Gabriel mused as he made his way to his box. He knew the history of the opera house well. He had been living in Paris when Charles Garnier designed the building. Work had begun in the summer of 1861; the facade was unveiled in 1867. Work on the building had come to a halt during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, and the unfinished opera house had been used as an arsenal and a warehouse for storing food and wine.

Gabriel had left Paris during the siege. Not for him the ugliness and cruelty of war. Food had been scarce. Zoo animals had been killed and the carcasses sold to restaurants. The rich ate elephant meat; the poor had dined on dogs and cats and rats. Paris had been on fire, people starving; the streets had been red with blood.

It wasn't until January of 1875 that the grand staircase was thronged with the first of many distinguished guests.