Embrace the Night

Page 97



"But…"

His gaze caught and held hers. "You're tired, Sara Jayne," he said, his voice low and hypnotic. "Go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she repeated drowsily, and then her eyelids fluttered down and she was asleep.
He sat beside her as long as he dared, and then he left the house.

Maurice waited in the shadows across from Sara's house, listening as a distant clock chimed the hour. Five A.M.

Shivering in the chill air, he shifted his weight in the saddle, wishing he had thought to wear gloves.

He had just decided to call off his vigil when the door to Sara's apartment opened and a dark shape descended the stairs and blended into the night.

"You won't get away from me this time," Maurice vowed.

And filled with a sense of purpose and determination, he touched his heels to the horse's flanks.

Lost in thought, his steps uncharacteristically slow and heavy, Gabriel made his way toward the abandoned cottage. Sara wanted him to move in with her, and she wouldn't accept his excuses forever. For the first time, he considered telling her the truth. Perhaps, if she loved him enough, she would be able to accept him for who and what he was. Perhaps she'd keep his secret, be content to share her life with a man who was not a man at all.

He made a low sound of disgust deep in his throat. And perhaps she'd offer to ease his thirst, as well, or even join him in his hellish existence.

And perhaps dogs would sing and pigs would fly.

Revulsion for what he was rose up within him, as hot and bitter as bile. Even if she wished it, he would never condemn her to the kind of existence he led. She was a creature of light and beauty. To condemn her to a world of endless darkness would be cruelty of the worst kind.

He should leave her, he thought bleakly. Walk out of her life and never return. But, selfish bastard that he was, he knew that was something he could not do. He had lived in solitude for most of the last two hundred years, rarely mingling with humanity, but with Sara he had dared to take a small step into the mortal world. He had sat beside her while she dined in her favorite cafe. He had ventured into the Paris Opera and watched her dance.

He had dared to make love to her—and for those brief moments, the darkness that enveloped him had been swallowed up in her light. Miraculously, his desire for her flesh had tempered his lust for blood. Holding her in his arms, loving her, had given him a reprieve from the ugliness of his existence. For that alone, she had earned his love and his everlasting gratitude.

Sara…