Dark Moors (THE TWO VAMPIRES, #4) (16 page)

Daniel walked over to the body of the sorcerer.  He looked down on him disdainfully,
his face was puckered, and his hood had fallen back revealing his balding head.  The sorcerer’s neck was ripped where Sarah had bitten him.  He looked pale and ghostly in death.  He looked weak and pathetic.  He truly was. 

He should get rid of the body
before Sarah returned, Daniel thought.  Now this worthless man did not deserve an altar.  Daniel picked him up and walked to where the sorcerer had discarded the other bodies.  He pushed him under the stone where he would join his victims, where hopefully they would destroy him in death, in hell, if such a place existed.

Daniel retreated from the trench, holding his breath so as not to have to inhale the smell of death, and he returned to the stone circle.  He looked up to the tor where Sarah had taken the witch and saw that she was no-longer there, she was returning, ever so slowly, mournfully, down the hillside.  She was returning to his side.

At least his Sarah was ok - she was still alive, even if her eyes did look dead.  He would make sure she recovered.  This had been his idea - he had put her through all of this.  It was his fault and he would make it up to her.  They would have a break from fighting, from all this fear and suspense.  He would make sure they had time for some fun, and time to just be themselves.

Sarah was close now, and he looked to her face, but she kept her eyes lowered.  He was at her side in an instant and his arms were around her.

‘Let’s go home,’ she said.

Daniel nodded, ‘Ok,’ he said, ‘
we can do whatever you want to.’

He picked her up in his arms, inspecting the stone circle one more time.  There was still some blood there, but he thought he
had removed most of the evidence that would make anyone suspect a ritual had occurred, that would make anyone think of trying to complete it. 

Daniel did no
t know what Sarah meant by home – whether she meant the cottage, or whether she meant Canada, and he did not ask.  It was too soon.  He would take her home now and tuck her up in bed.  He would bring her hot drinks and wine, and kiss her and love her, and he would make sure that she was herself again - however long it took. 

He looked down at her haunted, saddened eyes as he carried her over the moor in the moonlit d
arkness.  She was his Sarah and he loved her.  He had not done a good enough job before, but he would now; he would take care of her, he would cherish her forever and always; he would protect her from further harm.  He would heal her soul.

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