Embrace the Night

Sara woke slowly, filled with a deep and abiding sense of contentment, of fulfillment. Gabriel had made love to her all the night long...



Gabriel! She turned her head and he was there, lying beside her, his eyes closed. She glanced quickly toward the window, relieved to see that it was still dark outside, that he had not yet succumbed to the deathlike sleep that engulfed him during the day.



Lightly, she traced his lips with her fingertip, felt a surge of heat course through her when he stroked her fingertip with his tongue.



His eyelids fluttered open and she found herself gazing into the depths of his eyes - beautiful deep gray eyes fringed with thick black lashes.



"Good morning," she murmured.



"Good morning, cara." His gaze moved over her face. How beautiful she was. Her lips were still slightly swollen from his kisses, her hair fell over her shoulders in a riot of golden waves, and her eyes... he knew he would sacrifice the next hundred years to wake up each morning and find Sara looking at him like that, her sky-blue eyes filled with love.



He kissed her softly, gently, let his hands wander over the smooth silky flesh he had possessed only hours before. How quickly he had come to know the hills and valleys of her body, just as he had come to know that she liked to have her back rubbed, that tickling her feet would make her laugh.



He kissed her again, and the slow heat that had been building between them suddenly burst into flame. With a low groan, he tucked her beneath him and merged his flesh with hers, and she rose up to meet him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she offered him her love and took his in return.



They lay locked in each other's arms for a long while, reluctant to part.



He didn't have to glance at the window to know that the sky was growing light. Soon, too soon, he would have to send her from him. And yet he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be enfolded in Sara's arms when the darkness claimed him. He had told her that being swallowed up in the deathlike sleep had frightened him more than anything else when first he'd been made. What he hadn't told her was that, though he had long ago learned to accept it, he had never learned to like it. It was a frightening thing, to be sucked down into blackness deeper than the bowels of hell, to be helpless, vulnerable. Would the darkness that overtook him be less fearful if he succumbed to it while in Sara's embrace?



"Sara?" He spoke hesitantly, not knowing how to ask for what he wanted, not knowing if he should.



"What?"



"Hold me."



She frowned, puzzled by the note of apprehension in his voice. "I am holding you," she said.



"Will you stay with me..."



"Of course."



He swore under his breath, wondering why it was so hard to ask her to hold him while oblivion swept over him.



"What is it, Gabriel?" she asked, worried now. "What's wrong?"



"Will you hold me until... ?"



She knew then what he wanted. "I will," she promised, unable to believe what he was saying. For the first time, he looked vulnerable. It caused all her protective instincts to rush to the fore. "I'll hold you until you're... you're asleep."



She pulled him closer, her arms tightening around him as she cradled his head to her breast.



With a sigh, Gabriel closed his eyes. He could hear the steady beat of her heart beneath his ear, feel the warmth of her hand stroking his back, his shoulders.



"Be careful today," he said as he felt the blackness descend on him. "Stay in the house. Keep Maurice with you."



"Why? What's wrong?"



He fought the lethargy that was stealing over him. "Nina. She's... here. Don't go out. Promise... me."



"I promise."



"Check... doors..." His eyelids fluttered down and he felt himself sinking into blackness. "Windows... careful... be careful..."



"I will."



"My cloak..." he said, his voice urgent, faint. "Need... it..."



"I'll get it. Gabriel?"



She fought down a rising sense of terror as he went suddenly limp in her arms. He didn't look as if he was sleeping now, she thought. His body was heavy, lifeless, cold.



Telling herself there was nothing to be afraid of, she slid out of bed. Standing there, looking down at him, she began to shiver uncontrollably.



What if he didn't wake up?



She was reaching for her robe when she saw his cloak. Lifting it from the chair, she held it in her hands for a moment, and then spread it over him. It was unnerving to see him lying there like that, and she quickly gathered up her clothes and left the room.



Maurice was already up, looking as if he hadn't slept more than a few minutes. Dark bristles shadowed his jaw; his clothes looked rumpled, as though he had tossed and turned all night.



"You slept with him." It was an accusation, not a question.



The flood of color that washed into her cheeks gave him all the answer he needed.



"I'll understand if you don't want to stay," Sara said, not meeting his eyes. "I've treated you badly, and I apologize."



"Ill stay," he replied curtly, and then he grinned, a dry, humorless expression. "I don't think I have much choice."



"What do you mean?"



Maurice jerked his thumb toward Sara's bedroom. "Him. He told me to watch you. But I'd have stayed anyway. I love you, Sara Jayne. Nothing will change that."



"Maurice, I'm sorry..."



He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Have you got anything to eat?"



Sara nodded, eager for an excuse to leave the room. How much easier her life would be if she could have loved Maurice. Their life together would have been ideal. They shared a love of dancing, of music, of art. They could have had a good life together, had children, a home in the country, all the things she longed for, and yet, without Gabriel, she wouldn't want to dance, or live. She didn't want to bear another man's children, or live in another man's house.



She wanted Gabriel, and she knew at that moment that she would do whatever she had to do, make any sacrifice necessary, to spend the rest of her life with him.



It was Sunday, and the day passed slowly. Usually, she went to Mass, but she had promised Gabriel she wouldn't go out.



Maurice sat in the chair beside the hearth, his nose buried in a book.



Sara busied herself in the kitchen preparing a huge midday meal, though she had no appetite. How could she even think of eating with Maurice brooding in the parlor and Gabriel sleeping the sleep of the undead in her bedroom? And always in the back of her mind was Nina's threat to destroy her.



Head throbbing from the heat in the kitchen and her troublesome thoughts, she opened the kitchen door and stepped outside. The autumn air felt blessedly cool against her face. For a moment, she stared up at the sun, a sight Gabriel had not seen in over three hundred years. Gabriel.



Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, anxious for nightfall, for the time when she could be in his arms again.



She gasped as she felt a hand on her arm, then chided herself for her fear. She turned around, expecting to see Maurice.



But it was not Maurice. Fear snaked through her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a huge hand fastened around her throat, choking off her cry, trapping the air in her lungs until the world went black.



The smell of something burning roused Maurice. Frowning, he jumped to his feet, the book in his lap falling to the floor unnoticed as he ran into the kitchen.



"Sara Jayne, what's the..."



The words died in his throat. The kitchen was filled with smoke; the back door was standing open. Grabbing a towel, he opened the oven and removed a pan that held a chunk of charred meat.



"Sara Jayne?"



He felt a growing sense of dread as he crossed the room and looked outside.



"Sara?"



He walked down the short flight of steps that led to the small garden behind her apartment, but there was no sign of her.



Returning to the house, he checked the spare bedroom, hoping to find her there asleep, but it was empty.



Hesitantly, he opened her bedroom door and peered inside. Gabriel lay on the bed, as still as death.



Shutting the door, Maurice went to the entry hall. The front door was closed, locked from the inside.



Where was she? With a low groan of despair, he sank down on the sofa, his head cradled in his hands. Where was she?



And what would Gabriel do when he woke and discovered she was gone?



He woke in the hour before dusk. Lying there, still weak, he sent his thoughts to search for Sara, and knew, in that moment, that she was gone.



"Maurice!" The word was a cry of rage, a scream of primal fear.



It vibrated off the walls, shook the glass in the windows, and filled Maurice with a quiet sense of doom.



On legs that trembled so violently he could hardly stand, he walked to the bedroom, took a deep breath, and opened the door.



Gabriel sat up, his back propped against the headboard. "Where is she?"



Maurice shook his head. "I don't know."



"Damn you! I told you to watch her for me."



"I... she was in the kitchen, cooking. I... I fell asleep. When I woke up, she was gone."



Gabriel glared at Delacroix. It had been days since he fed; the lust for blood was strong, and growing stronger. "Come here."



Maurice took a wary step backward. "No."



"You will not like what happens if I have to ask you again."



On legs that felt like stone, Maurice approached the side of the bed. He tried not to look at Gabriel, but the vampire's gaze burned into his, hot and bright and hungry.



Slowly, Gabriel swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, his gaze fixed on Delacroix. "Sit here, beside me."



Maurice didn't want to obey, but he seemed to have no will of his own. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, he sat down beside the vampire, his heart pounding so rapidly, so loudly, he wondered if he was going to die. And then he saw the blood lust blazing in Gabriel's eyes, and a short, hysterical laugh bubbled from his lips. Of course he was going to die.



Have you ever thought of being dinner?



Nausea roiled through Maurice as the memory of Gabriel's voice asking that question echoed in the back of his mind.



"You're going to kill me?" There was no fear in Maurice's voice now, only a distant feeling of calm, a sense of facing the inevitable.



"No, but I need your blood, Delacroix. I haven't fed in several days, and I don't have time to prowl the streets looking for someone else."



"Will I become..." Maurice swallowed hard, the thought of becoming a vampire more frightening than the specter of death.



"No."



Maurice flinched as Gabriel's hands fastened on his shoulders, anchoring him in place. The vampire's eyes seemed to burn a path to his soul. Fear unlike anything he had ever known rose up within him. And then he felt it, the sharp prick of fangs at his throat, the sensation of blood being drawn from his veins. The sound of Gabriel swallowing. Revulsion rose within him, and he knew he was going to be sick.



He slid to the floor when Gabriel released him, his body feeling curiously light, empty. He doubled over, retching violently, only vaguely aware of Gabriel moving about the room.



Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Maurice glanced up. Gabriel stood near the door, putting on his cloak. The heavy black material swirled around him, making him seem even more sinister.



"Pray I find her before it's too late, Delacroix," Gabriel said flatly. "There will be no place for you to hide if she's dead."



Using the bed for support, Maurice gained his feet. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His skin looked gray and waxy. A cold chill slithered down his spine when he saw that Gabriel cast no image in the glass.



So, he thought inanely, the stories were true. Vampires cast no shadow, no reflection. He ran a hand through his hair, took a deep, calming breath. "I'm going with you."



Gabriel snorted disdainfully. "You can hardly stand."



"I'm going."



The man had courage, Gabriel thought with grudging admiration, and it wrung an apology from him, the first of its kind he had ever made.



"Forgive me," he said, his voice rough. "I wouldn't have taken from you if it wasn't necessary."



"We're wasting time," Maurice said.



A faint smile tugged at Gabriel's lips as he headed for the kitchen door. In another time and place, he and Maurice might have been friends.



Gabriel paused outside, his senses questing, testing the air. He caught Sara's scent, and though faint, it was as easy to follow as a lighted candle in the darkness.



Sara huddled in the corner, paralyzed with fright, while the creature who had brought her to this place paced the floor, back and forth, back and forth, like an animal in a cage.



She tried not to watch him, but she couldn't seem to draw her gaze from his hulking form, from his face. From the long, wicked-looking knife that dangled from one hairy fist. She had begged him to let her go, but he had looked at her through dead eyes, his face totally devoid of expression, as though all trace of humanity, of life itself, had been destroyed, leaving only an empty shell capable of movement.



Hours passed that seemed like days. With the coming of night, total blackness descended on the deserted building, and with it a deafening silence marred only by the creature's shuffling footsteps and an occasional scurrying sound that made Sara think of rats.



Shivering, she drew her knees to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs. Why had that creature brought her here? Why had she ever opened the door? And yet it had never occurred to her that she would be in any real danger while the sun was up, that she wouldn't be safe on the steps of her own house.



"Gabriel." She breathed his name aloud, using it as a talisman against the dark, the fear that boiled up inside her. He would come for her. She had to believe that.



"Of course he'll come."



Sara scrambled to her feet, her eyes searching the darkness for the source of that smooth, sultry voice.



"So," the voice said, "you're the little ballerina who has captured my Giovanni's heart."



"Who... who's there?"



"Don't you know?" the woman asked petulantly. "Surely Giovanni mentioned my name."



Sara frowned. "Giovanni? I don't know anyone named Giovanni."



A soft laugh sounded from Sara's right and she whirled around. She had heard no footsteps, no movement.



"That naughty boy, he calls himself Gabriel now. Didn't he even tell you his true name?"



Sara recoiled as she felt a hand in her hair. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"



"All in good time." There was a smile in that voice, a cruel, calculating smile. "He may change his name, but he cannot change what he is." Again, that sultry laugh. "But to take the name of an angel! Ah, that is most daring."



Sara gasped in pain as Nina's hand fisted in her hair, jerking her head back to expose her throat. "He was mine first, my little mortal. Mine. And he will be mine again."



Even in the blackness, Sara could see the hatred blazing in the other woman's eyes, the hideous otherworldly glow that Sara recognized as a lust for blood.



"No!" Sara forced the word from a throat gone suddenly dry.



"Just a taste," Nina said, and with the swiftness of a striking snake, she buried her fangs in Sara's neck, one hand clamped over her shoulder to hold her in place.



"No!" Sara screamed as she tried to twist out of Nina's grasp, certain she could hear the blood being drawn from her veins. The mere idea sickened her, as did the touch of the woman's fingers in her hair and on her shoulder. Cold, icy fingers that felt like death.



"No, no..." Sara moaned, feeling her legs grow weak. A red mist swirled before her eyes.



There was no pleasure from Nina's possession as there had been in Gabriel's, only pain and revulsion, a sense of being denied by a creature that was the embodiment of evil.



With a soft sigh of contentment, Nina released her hold on Sara.



Left to her own, Sara fell to her knees.



"He'll be here soon," the vampire remarked, delicately wiping the blood from her mouth with a black silk handkerchief. "Tell him this is just the beginning."



There was a soft sound, like wings in the night, and Sara knew that the other woman had gone.



Weeping softly, she curled up on the floor, praying for Gabriel to come and end the nightmare.



Sara?



She sat up, her heart thudding with hope, as his voice pierced her mind. I'm in here!



I'm coming, cara.



Be careful! There's some sort of... of creature in here with me.



Rest easy, Sara, you'll soon be safely home again.



No sooner had the words of assurance sounded in her mind than there was a horrible crash as the door burst open. Sara saw Gabriel silhouetted in the faint light that streamed through the portal, and behind him, she saw Maurice.



The creature had seen them, too. With a roar that sounded more bestial than human, it hurled itself at Gabriel, its teeth bared in a feral snarl, the knife slashing through the air.



Sara screamed as the blade struck Gabriel, slicing through his shirt into the flesh beneath. There was no change in the creature's expression as he brought the knife down again, opening a jagged gash in Gabriel's left arm.



Gabriel made no effort to avoid the blade, just plowed forward until his hands locked in a death grip around the creature's neck. He gave a sharp twist and the creature went limp in his hands, its neck broken. The sound of the knife clattering to the floor echoed like thunder in the empty wooden building.



And then Gabriel was beside her, gathering her into his arms, crushing her close.



"Sara, are you all right?"



"Yes," she sobbed. "But you..." She stared at the bright splash of crimson spreading over his shirt-front, dripping from his arm.



"It's nothing, cara," he said reassuringly. "By tomorrow the wounds will have healed."



Overcome with relief that he was there, that the danger was past, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, unmindful of the blood that stained her dress and dripped from his arm to hers.



"Did he... did that creature..." Gabriel closed his eyes, hating to ask, hating to think of his Sara at the mercy of that zombielike creature. "Did he hurt you?"



"No."



Feeling weak from the loss of blood, Gabriel sank down on the floor, cradling Sara to his chest, rocking her gently. "It's all right, now, cara," he crooned, his hand stroking her hair, her cheek. "It's all right."



"Nina said..."



"She was here?"



Sara felt his whole body tense at the mention of the vampire's name. "Yes. She... she... Oh, Gabriel, it was awful. She said this was just the beginning."



Sara raised a hand to her neck, revulsion rising up within her as she felt the two small puncture wounds. "She bit me."



For a moment, Gabriel closed his eyes. It was obvious that Nina hadn't brought her over, but had she taken enough to initiate Sara? If Nina had taken enough blood, Sara would be enslaved to her forever, bound to do her bidding. Sara could still function during the day. She shared a mind bond with Gabriel. If she desired, she would be able to find him no matter where he went, no matter where he rested during the day. Was that Nina's ultimate goal, to have Sara destroy him? It was the kind of twist that would amuse Antonina's warped sense of humor, having Gabriel's lover drive a stake into his heart.



With a low groan, he gazed into Sara's eyes. "How much blood did she take from you?"



"I don't know."



"How do you feel?"



"Sick. Take me home, please."



Rising to his feet, Gabriel carried her out of the building.



Maurice had stood in the shadows while Gabriel comforted Sara. Now he glanced briefly at the creature sprawled on the raw plank floor, and then hurried outside.



There were more frightening beings than vampires lurking in the dark, he thought, and fates worse than death.