Embrace the Night

Page 98



Her goodness permeated him. He had the oddest feeling that if he could find the courage to tell her what he was, to confess his innumerable sins against humanity, her love would shrive the guilt from his soul.

He could not leave her, he thought as he entered the cottage and closed and locked the door. If it meant his life, he could not leave her. Not so long as she would have him.

His feet made no sound as he descended the narrow stone stairway that led down to the cellar. There were stout locks on both sides of the thick oak door. By night, the lock on the outside of the cellar door kept his resting place secure; by day, the lock on the inside ensured that no one would come upon him while he slept.

Entering the cellar, he closed the door behind him and turned the key in the lock.

Silently, he crossed the dirt-packed floor, removed his cloak, and climbed into the long, sturdy pine box that served as his resting place.

Closing his eyes, he let his imagination take flight. Sara, clothed as the Princess Aurora, pirouetted within the corridors of his mind, and he was the prince. But in his ballet, it wasn't the prince who awakened the princess from sleep with a kiss, but the princess who willingly gave the prince a single drop of her precious blood and saved him from a life of eternal darkness…

Leaving the horse tethered out of sight in a copse of trees, Maurice moved stealthily toward the cottage, his footsteps muffled by the damp earth.

So, he thought with satisfaction, this was where the devil lived.

His heart was pounding like a wild thing when he reached the south side of the cottage. Hardly daring to breathe, he peered into the window. The room was empty. Frowning, he made his way around the cottage, pausing to peer into each window.

As near as he could tell in the darkness, all the rooms were empty.

Puzzled, he made his way toward a clump of brush and hunkered down on his heels. A short time later, dawn brightened the sky and he crept toward the cottage again. The faint light afforded by the rising sun confirmed his earlier suspicions: the rooms were all empty. So, where was Gabriel? Had he gone back to town? Or was there perhaps a room below?

He tried the windows and door. All were securely locked. Strange, he thought, that a house long abandoned would be locked from the inside. Stranger still that Gabriel, who possessed a great deal of wealth, chose to live in an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of town.

Feeling his courage expand with the dawn, Maurice found a good-sized rock and then, taking a deep breath, he broke one of the windows with it. He listened for a long moment, waiting to see if the noise had been overheard, and when nothing happened, he climbed over the low sill.

He paused inside the room, his heart pounding so loudly it would have been impossible to hear anything else, and then, summoning his nerve, he walked from room to room. A heavy layer of dust covered the floor; lacy cobwebs adorned the corners of the ceilings. A rat had made a nest in the kitchen hearth.