Embrace the Night

Sara woke feeling wonderful. Jumping out of bed, she twirled round and round. It hadn't been a dream. She could walk!



She smiled when she saw an old wooden bathing tub in one corner of the room. A huge kettle filled with water hung from a tripod over a low fire. Bless Gabriel, he thought of everything.



She took a leisurely bath, her heart bubbling with joy as she propped her legs on the lip of the tub and wriggled her toes. She could walk!



Hunger drove her from the tub. She found some bread and cheese and a small bottle of wine in a basket. Wrapped in a blanket, she ate standing up, marveling that such a thing was possible. She could stand. She could walk, and suddenly a whole new world had opened before her eyes.



Sara glanced at the box of chocolates on the bedside table, at the room, though there was little to see - the bed she had slept in, the table, Gabriel's chair.



Several large boxes at the foot of the bed drew her eye, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed them before. She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to poke into them if they belonged to Gabriel, but her curiosity got the best of her.



A riot of color met her eyes as, one by one, she opened the boxes. She found delicate convent-made underwear: pantalets edged with lace, a camisole bedecked with a pale blue ribbon, a corset, a petticoat made of organdy, a pair of kidskin gloves, shoes with silver buckles, silk stockings.



Another box held a straw bonnet trimmed with a white feather and pink ribbons.



And dresses! Beautiful dresses fit for a queen. She draped them over the bed, her hands lingering over each one. The rose-pink silk was a study in simplicity with its scalloped neckline and long fitted sleeves. The blue challis was trimmed in yards and yards of delicate lace. There was a muted rose, green, and blue plaid taffeta, a floor-length gown of burgundy velvet.



In other boxes, she found a dressing gown of rose-colored velvet, a dark blue cloak trimmed in ermine. She'd never owned such costly clothing in her life. One box held dozens of ribbons in all the colors of the rainbow; another held a white feather fan. She opened the fan carefully; then, pretending she was a highborn lady bored with life, she fanned herself.



A highborn lady, indeed, Sara thought with a laugh, and closing the fan with a flourish, she stared at the bounty spread on the bed.



She stroked the ermine trim on the cloak as if it were still a living thing. The cost of the cloak alone would have put food on the table at the orphanage for a month. Why had Gabriel bought her such elegant things? Where would she ever wear them?



Where? Here and now, she thought, and hastily pulled on the undergarments, then reached for the dress of rose-pink silk. It felt like heaven and fit as if it had been made for her. She glanced around the room, hoping to find a looking glass, but there was none in evidence. She tried each dress on, fretting over the lack of a mirror.



Perhaps she'd find a looking glass in one of the other rooms, she thought, and made her way down the hall, peeking into the tiny cells where the monks had once lived as she passed by.



Barefoot, she padded silently from room to room, all thought of a looking glass forgotten as she explored the old abbey.



The chapel, long neglected, still retained a hint of its former beauty. Some of the stained-glass windows had been broken, but others were still intact. A shaft of sunlight streamed through the window over the altar, the colored glass tinting the sunbeams.



Sara knelt at the altar, her gaze fixed on the window. It depicted a small blue pool in the midst of a green meadow. The Christ figure stood beside the pool holding a tiny lamb in the crook of one arm. Other lambs and sheep were gathered at his feet.



Sara glanced to the left where another window depicted Christ's agony on the cross. It was so beautiful, so lifelike, that tears stung her eyes. She stared at the nails in His hands and feet, unable to imagine the pain He had suffered, or His willingness to shoulder the sins of the world, to suffer, bleed, and die as an atoning sacrifice for all mankind. She had never doubted His love for her. And now He had blessed her with a miracle.



She knelt there for a long time, enveloped in a sense of peace and love as she offered a quiet, heartfelt prayer of gratitude for the ability to walk.



Leaving the chapel, Sara peered into what looked like the infirmary. Four iron bedsteads lined one wall. The mattresses, made of straw, had long since disintegrated. A huge lacy spider web dangled from one corner.



She paused at the refectory door. Several long plank tables, covered with years of dust, were situated in neat rows, and she imagined the monks sitting there in the high-backed wooden chairs, eating in silence while one of the brothers read to them from the scriptures. She saw another spider web, and there was a nest of some kind in the massive stone fireplace.



She went from room to room, expecting to find Gabriel, or at least some sign of him, but there was nothing anywhere to indicate that he lived in the abbey. No food in the kitchens, no clothing in any of the rooms, nothing.



Toward the back of the monastery, she found a narrow door. Thinking it led outside, she opened it to find a long stone stairway. Darkness rose up to meet her; darkness and a dank, musty smell.



Curious, she placed one hand on the wall and took a step down. Her breathing seemed suddenly loud as she took another step, and then another, until she came to a second door.



She tried the latch, but it was locked.



She stood there for a long moment, her senses reeling. Gabriel's image rose in her mind, and with it a vision of darkness, a foreboding coupled with a strong feeling of pain and anguish.



"Gabriel?"



Was he in there? Hurt, maybe?



She tried the latch again, turning it this way and that.



Go back .



She whirled around, her hand pressed over her heart. She fully expected to find someone standing behind her, but there was no one there. Had the words come from her own mind then, a warning from some sixth sense, or had they been spoken by some unseen entity?



She glanced at the door again, felt the hair rise along her arms. She took a step backward and then, overcome by a sudden overwhelming sense of evil, she bolted up the stairs and ran for the sanctuary of her room.



Inside, she slammed the door, then stood there, breathing heavily.



Gradually, her heartbeat returned to normal, and she told herself she had imagined the whole thing, that she was just letting her imagination get the best of her. But she didn't believe it. Not for a moment. She had sensed evil, something so sinister, so dark, that it had touched her most primal fear and sent her running for the safety of her room as though her very soul were in danger.



She wished that Gabriel was there to soothe her fears, to assure her that all was well. She wondered again why there was no food in the kitchens, why she had found nothing to indicate his presence.



Surely if he lived here, she would have found clothing, a razor, a hairbrush, something.



Curling up in his chair with the book of poetry, she determined to ask him where he spent his days. She wanted to know how he earned his living, and why he lived here, in this cold place. And maybe, if she could summon the nerve, she would ask him what evil lurked at the bottom of the stairs.



It was just at dusk that Gabriel entered the room. Sara glanced up from her book, her spirits lifting at the mere sight of him. Clad in a full-sleeved white shirt, tight black breeches, and soft leather boots, he took her breath away.



Rising, she ran across the floor and threw herself into his arms.



Gabriel closed his eyes as his arms closed around Sara. She fit into his embrace as though her form had been sculpted to complement his. Her scent rose all around him, warm and feminine. And alive.



For endless moments, they clung to each other.



For Sara, it was like coming home after a long absence.



For Gabriel, it was like walking in the sunshine.



After a time, Gabriel drew back so he could see her face. "Is anything wrong?"



"Not anymore."



"I don't understand."



"I missed you," Sara explained shyly. "All day, I wondered where you were, what you were doing." She placed her hand on his chest, her fingertips making random circles over his heart. "It's lonely here without you."



"I'm sorry. You must be hungry. Would you care to go out?" His gaze moved over her. "You look lovely."



Sara lowered her gaze. "Thank you."



Releasing her, he draped the cloak about her shoulders, then offered her his arm. "Shall we go?"



He took her to a small but elegant restaurant, sipped a glass of red wine while she ate an enormous meal.



"Why aren't you eating?" Sara asked.



He hesitated a moment before he said, "I dined earlier."



"Oh."



"Finish your meal, cara, and then, if you'd like, we'll take a stroll in the gardens."



She ate quickly, conscious of his gaze, aware of his every movement. She loved to watch his hands. They were strong hands, expressive hands. Gentle hands. She felt a blush heat her cheeks as she recalled the kiss they had shared, the way his hands had skimmed over her body, light as the wings of a butterfly.



"Are you ready?"



She looked up with a start, the blush in her cheeks deepening as her eyes met his. "Yes."



He paid the bill, helped her with her cloak, took her hand. The night wrapped around them, dark and intimate, as they walked along a narrow, tree-lined path through the gardens. The fragrance of a hundred flowers rose up all around them, perfuming the air, but it was Sara's scent that filled Gabriel's senses, her nearness that made his heart pound in his chest. She looked like an angel in the light of the moon. A wealth of golden hair framed her delicate face, her skin glowed, her eyes were like shadowed blue pools.



The twin talons of need and hunger rose up within him, their claws piercing the darkness of his heart, his empty soul. It would be so easy to take her, to enfold her in his arms and feast upon her sweetness.



So easy.



He paused before a low stone bench. "Shall we sit awhile?"



"All right." She sat down, the folds of her pink gown spreading around her like the petals of a rose. "Where were you today?"



"I'm afraid I must ask you not to pry into my personal life."



"I didn't mean to pry," Sara said quickly, hoping to conceal the hurt caused by his censure, "I just wondered... never mind."



"Wondered what?"



"Where you spend your days. What kind of work you do."



"I don't work."



"You don't?"



"No. Not only am I a very private person, but a very wealthy one, as well."



"Oh."



"So," he said, forcing a smile, "how did you spend your day?"



"Trying on clothes." She placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you, Gabriel. The dresses are lovely. I adore the book, and the candy, and everything else. You've been so generous."



"My pleasure."



"I went exploring today."



She felt his hand stiffen beneath hers. "Did you?"



Sara nodded. "I was looking for a mirror," she confessed, wondering if he would think her vain. "The dresses are so pretty. I wanted to see how I looked..."



Gabriel nodded. He should have known she'd want to primp before a looking glass, but it was the one thing he could not provide for her.



"I didn't find one, though." She stared at her hand, so small compared to his. "I... do you... ?"



"Go on."



"Do you really live in the abbey? I mean, there doesn't seem to be anything of you in any of the rooms." She shrugged. "I mean, for a wealthy man, you don't seem to own very much."



"I have a castle in Spain," he remarked. "If you're looking for wealth, I'll take you there one day."



"No, I didn't mean that!"



"I know."



"Where do those stairs go? The ones in the rear of the monastery?"



"To the catacombs. Don't go down there again, cara. There's nothing in those dark vaults but those who sleep the endless sleep of death."



A shiver ran down Sara's spine. "I know. I could feel it. Oh, Gabriel, it was awful."



Wordlessly, he gazed into her eyes. Never had the abyss between them seemed wider or deeper or more impossible to cross. It was a chasm with no bridge save death. Her death.



She watched him rise to his feet in a single fluid movement. "Is something wrong?"



"It grows late. We should be getting back."



She offered him her hand, felt the strength of his fingers close over hers as he helped her to her feet.



"I had a lovely time, Gabriel. Thank you."



He inclined his head in acknowledgment, then pressed his lips to her hand. "My pleasure, cara."



Unexpectedly, she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He gasped at her touch, at the warmth of her body against his own. She was like a shadow in his arms, fragile, elusive, yet loving and warm. So warm. So full of the energy of life. His heart thudded in time to the pulse fluttering in her throat, exciting his hunger, tormenting, tantalizing.



His body hardened at her nearness, and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer, basking in her nearness, her youth, her innocence. Ah, but she felt good in his arms.



She moaned softly, grinding her hips against his as his tongue scorched her mouth. Her scent rose all around him, female, musky, desirable.



With a low groan, he lifted her arms from his neck and took a step backward. "We'd better go," he said hoarsely.



Tucking her hand in his, they walked back to the restaurant. He lifted her into the carriage, his hands lingering at her waist, before he vaulted up beside her. Taking up the reins, he clucked to the horse.



Later, he stood at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, his lust for her flesh, and her blood, burning through him like a dark flame. He touched his tongue to his teeth, felt his fangs lengthen as he imagined the ecstasy that would be his, and hers, if he allowed himself to succumb to the hunger. Just one small taste, he thought. What harm could it do?



The power of his presence called to Sara's subconscious. Sleepily, she opened her eyes. She blinked once, twice, but the creature at the foot of her bed didn't disappear. Only stood there, staring down at her through eyes that glowed with an unearthly incandescence. Even in the darkness, she could see its fangs - long and white and deadly.



It was the monster who haunted her dreams.



"I'm dreaming," she murmured shakily. "I've got to be dreaming."



She stared at the creature for what seemed an eternity, and then, like an image in water, the figure began to blur until it faded to a dark mist and disappeared.



Deep in the catacombs, Gabriel took on his own shape. The time had come, he mused with regret. He was going to have to let her go, now, while he still could.



Sara stared up at him. "Go? Go where?"



"I've made arrangements for you to attend the School of Ballet in France."



"France!" Sara exclaimed.



She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Oh, Gabriel, do you mean it? The School of Ballet!"



"You're pleased, then?"



"Oh, yes, but I'm too old to begin."



"They are willing to make an exception in your case."



"Really? Why?"



A wry smile hovered over Gabriel's lips. "With enough money, anything is possible."



"Oh, Gabriel, you're so good to me!"



"You leave tomorrow. I've opened an account for you at my bank in Paris. All your expenses will be paid. In addition, I want you to buy yourself a new wardrobe."



"Aren't you coining with me?"



"No".



"Have I done something to displease you?"



"No! Of Course not."



"Then why are you sending me away?"



Her words brought a wistful smile to his lips. "You're a young woman, Sara Jayne. It's time you associated with other young women. And young men..."



"But..." I don't want to leave you, she thought, frightened at the prospect of being parted from him. He was the only constant left in her life, the only security she had.



"You must trust me in this, Sara," he said. "It's for your own good. All the arrangements have been made."



"It's like a dream come true," she said, and wondered why she wasn't happier. Only moments ago, she had been ecstatic at the thought of going to Paris, but that was before she realized it meant being parted from Gabriel.



"You're too generous, Gabriel. I don't know what to say."



"Thank you will suffice."



"It hardly seems enough."



"The look in your eyes is thanks enough," Gabriel replied quietly. "A coach will pick you up in the morning, so I will bid you good night, and good-bye."



"Won't I see you in the morning? Aren't you going with me?"



"I'm afraid not. Business calls me away."



"So this is good-bye, then?"



"For now."



She realized abruptly that she might never see him again. The thought smothered her excitement as effectively as pouring water over a fire. "Will you come to visit me?"



He hesitated a moment before answering, "If I can."



"You seem anxious to be rid of me," she remarked, not meeting his gaze. "I thought..."



Gabriel took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. "Thought what?"



"That you cared for me."



"Of course I care, Sara."



"No, I mean..." She felt a crimson tide wash up her neck and into her cheeks. "I thought you were starting to care for me the way a man cares for a woman." She risked a glance at his face. "Last night, 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.