Embrace the Night (29 page)

"You're very quiet," Gabriel remarked, glancing up at Delacroix.

Maurice shrugged. "What is there to say? Nothing in my life has prepared me for anything like this."

"I wouldn't think so," Gabriel allowed with a faint grin.

"Do you think we can truly protect Sara from that… that woman?"

"I don't know, but I intend to try."

"Are there more of those creatures out there?"

"As many as she cares to make." Gabriel stood up. For a moment, he gazed at Sara, his fingers caressing her cheek. It was all so impossible, he thought, their love, the problems they faced, not only now, but in the future. Should they find a way to defeat Nina, they would have to find a way to weave their lives together.

He kissed her lightly, then turned toward Maurice. "I have to go out."

For a moment, his words, and what they meant, hung in the air. Sara and Maurice exchanged glances: hers, resigned but accepting, Maurice's filled with condemnation.

A muscle clenched in Gabriel's jaw. "I won't be gone long. Lock the door after me and don't open it for anyone." He fixed Maurice with a hard stare. "Do you understand?"

Maurice nodded.

"Gabriel, please don't go."

"I wish I could stay,
cara
," he replied, reaching for his cloak, "but I cannot change what I am, not even for you."

Sara placed her hand on his arm. "If you're in need, then take from me, but please don't go out."

"Sara, no!" Maurice's voice was sharp.

"It's my decision, not yours," she retorted.

Maurice met Gabriel's eyes. "She's been through enough tonight." He paused, the color draining from his face. "If you need blood, take mine."

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at Delacroix. "I know what it cost you to make the offer," he said solemnly, "but you've both been through enough for one night."

Sara followed Gabriel into her bedroom, watched while he slipped into a black shirt, drew his cloak around his shoulders. At his nod, she wiped the holy water from the sill and opened the window.

"I won't be long," he promised, dropping a kiss on her brow, and then, like a drifting shadow in the night, he was gone.

Gabriel paused in the darkness, his nostrils testing the wind, his senses searching for any sign of Nina's presence, but the night was dark and quiet, with only the soft sigh of the wind to break the stillness.

On silent feet, he prowled the darkness, the lust for blood growing ever stronger within him, fueled by the pain of his wounds, by his rage.

He searched until he found what he was looking for, a whore with pale skin and long black hair. He called her to him with the power of his mind, pretending it was Nina who stared up at him, helpless to resist, Nina's blood he was taking.

And he wished he had the power to control Nina's mind as easily as he manipulated the mind of the whore.

He was tempted to drain the girl dry, to sink his fangs into her throat and take and take until nothing remained but a dry husk, and by so doing, find a measure of release for the rage, for the sense of helplessness, that was pounding through him. Nina had sent that monster to abduct Sara, had frightened her, and then had dared to take her blood…

Gabriel lifted his head. A quiet word put the girl to sleep. When she woke, she wouldn't remember him, or what had happened.

He walked slowly back to Sara's apartment, wondering if Sara was now in Nina's power. Did he dare take his rest in Sara's apartment while there was a chance that Nina had enslaved Sara's mind?

As amusing as Nina might find it to have Sara destroy him, it would be a quick death, at least for him. Somehow, he didn't think Nina would find much satisfaction in that. She'd want him to surfer more, want Sara to suffer more. What was it Nina had told Sara?
This is just the beginning
…

He swore under his breath. There had to be a way to defeat Nina, to catch her off guard, but how?

When he returned to Sara's apartment, he found her asleep on the sofa, her head pillowed in Delacroix's lap.

Gabriel tried not to notice how well they looked together, two mortals in the prime of life. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing without doubt that Sara and Maurice would have been married now if he hadn't returned to Paris. She would have had a chance for a normal existence with Delacroix, he thought bitterly. And yet, stronger than his guilt for intruding on her life was the violent surge of jealousy that spread through him when he saw Delacroix drape his arm around Sara's waist, the gesture blatantly protective.

"Go to bed, Delacroix," Gabriel said. "I'll look after Sara."

"If it weren't for you, she wouldn't be in any danger."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed ominously. "Don't you think I know that? Dammit, if I could undo what's been done, I would. But it's too late for that now. Nina won't rest until she has her revenge."

"Why don't you leave Sara alone, get out of her life. If you're gone, maybe that vampire woman will leave her alone."

"Maybe, but it's not a chance I'm willing to take, not when it's Sara who'll have to suffer the consequences if you're wrong."

"You haven't done much to protect her so far," Maurice said.

"Tread softly, Delacroix," Gabriel warned, "else you find two vampires seeking your destruction."

"What if she's changed her mind? What if she decides she no longer wants to spend the rest of her life with a… with you? Will you kill me then?"

In a single fluid move, Gabriel stepped forward and lifted Sara into his arms.

"Go to bed, Delacroix," he said, his voice as hard as flint, as cold as ice. "Get out of my sight now, while you can."

All the color drained from Maurice's face. Body rigid with fear, he stood up and started toward the spare bedroom.

"Delacroix!"

Slowly, Maurice turned around.

"Make sure the doors and windows are secure before you retire."

With a curt nod, Maurice exited the room.

"You wouldn't really hurt Maurice, would you?"

Gabriel glanced at Sara. She was staring up at him, a troubled expression on her face.

"Have you been awake the whole time?"

Sara nodded.

"Is there any truth to what Delacroix said? Have you changed your mind? Is it him you want?"

"Will you kill him if I say yes?" Her gaze was steady on his as she waited for an answer, wondering what had possessed her to ask such a question.

The world seemed to hang suspended in time as she waited for his answer. She was acutely aware of the strength of the arms that held her, of the dark passion that blazed in Gabriel's eyes. A muscle jerked in his cheek, and then he released a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his being.

"I don't know, Sara," he replied quietly. "I honestly don't know."

Suddenly ashamed of playing such a cruel, coy game, she flung her arms around his neck. "You'll never have to find out," she said, her voice equally quiet. "I love you, Gabriel. No matter what happens, that will never change."

"Cara!"

His arms tightened around her, making it difficult to draw a breath, but it was a discomfort she could live with. Her eyelids fluttered down as he bent his head toward hers, and then he was kissing her, hotly, deeply, his tongue plundering her mouth as he carried her into the bedroom and closed the door, shutting out the rest of the world.

Gabriel lay on his back, his arm curled around Sara's waist, listening to the even sound of her breathing. He had made love to her twice before sleep claimed her, made love to her as if she were the only thing that could save him from eternal damnation. In her arms, with her body pressed to his, her voice whispering his name, vowing that she would love him all the days of her life, he felt whole, clean.

And yet, even when he had been caught up in the passion that blazed between them, he couldn't help wondering if he dared take his rest in her room.

He stayed awake the whole night long, holding her close, his gaze drawn time and again to her face. He had never known anyone so beautiful, so serene. Her hair was like the softest silk in his hands; her skin was smooth and warm, tempting his touch so that he found himself stroking the line of her cheek, the curve of her shoulder, the shape of her breast.

He had never loved anyone the way he loved her.

"She will never be yours." Nina's voice, softly mocking and filled with certainty, drifted into the room.

Easing himself from the bed, Gabriel crossed to the window and looked out into the darkness, and there, like darkness itself, he saw Nina standing in the light of the waning moon.

"Never, Giovanni," she said, and her eyes glowed like fiery coals. "If you will not love me, then you will not love her."

A violent tide of anger washed through Gabriel as he stared down at her. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Had he been able, he would have leapt from the window and endeavored to wring the breath from her body. But the same tokens against evil that kept Nina out of the apartment also served to keep him in.

The sound of her laughter, filled with knowing, burned his ears like acid.

"Soon, Gianni," she said, "soon she will be nothing but dust, and then a memory."

"Nina!"

She tilted her head to the side, a devilish smile playing about her lips. "Will you beg me again for her life, Gianni? Will you come outside and grovel at my feet?"

Rebellion mingled with a strong sense of pride rose up within him. He had begged her once before to no avail. But he would do it again, if she would only swear to leave Sara alone.

With a defiant lift of his head, he met her gaze. "I would come to you if I could,
bella
," he said with a wry grin, "but I fear I cannot leave this house."

"But you would if you could? You would come here to me, now, and beg me for the little mortal's life?"

He swallowed the revulsion that rose in his throat. "Yes."

"And what would you say?"

"Whatever you wish to hear," Gabriel replied.

"Get down on your knees, Giovanni," she said, "and let me hear what words you would speak to me."

Swallowing his pride, Gabriel dropped to his knees in front of the window. "I would tell you how lovely you are, that your beauty outshines the sun, that your lips are sweeter than nectar…"

"And you would not mean a word of it," she exclaimed, her anger evident in her tone, in her expression.

"I will say whatever you wish to hear," he repeated. "I will do whatever you ask. If you need to take a life, take mine."

"You would die for her?" Nina asked incredulously. "You would give up
hundreds of years of living for that puny mortal female?"

"Yes."

"Then you will suffer even more greatly than I had imagined," she remarked thoughtfully, and amid a swirl of black skirts, she disappeared into the darkness. Gabriel watched her disappear and then, swearing softly, he rose to his feet, quietly cursing the holy water and the invisible barrier it created that prevented him from following her.

"One of us has to go out," Sara said the next evening. "You may be able to go for days with nothing to… to sustain you, but Maurice and I have to have something to eat."

Gabriel nodded. What she said was true. Three days had passed since Nina's midnight visit at the window. Sara had sent word to the theater that she was ill and unable to perform; Maurice had sent word that he had been called out of town due to a family crisis.

In the three days since Nina's appearance, nerves had grown taut and tempers short.

"Make a list, Sara, and I'll go," Maurice offered.

"Is that wise?" she asked, looking from one man to the other.

"He can protect you from her better than I can," Maurice said.

He was right, Sara thought, but who would protect Maurice? "We could all go out together," she suggested.

Gabriel stared out the window into the darkness, weighing the alternatives. Would it be safer if they all went out together tonight, or to wait and let Maurice go to the market in the morning? And what if one of Nina's creatures broke into the house while Maurice was gone and he was at rest? Who would protect Sara then?

"We'll go out," Gabriel decided. "And after you have eaten, we'll go to the gunsmith. I want you both to have some sort of defense against Nina's creatures."

"A pistol?" Sara shook her head. "I don't think I could shoot anyone."

"He's right," Maurice said grudgingly. "Nina has declared war on us, and we need to arm ourselves."

"Have you ever fired a gun, Delacroix?"

Delacroix glared at Gabriel defiantly. "No, but I can learn."

Gabriel nodded. More and more, he found himself admiring the young man. He might be nothing but a dancer, but there was nothing effeminate or cowardly about him.

An hour later, they went to supper at a small restaurant near Sara's apartment. Gabriel sat in the shadows away from the windows, his face turned away while Sara and Maurice dined on roast duckling with all the trimmings.

There was little conversation at the table.

As soon as the meal was over, they left the restaurant and went to visit the gunsmith. At first, he refused to open his shop, declaring he was closed for the night, but Gabriel flashed a gold coin, and he obligingly showed them his wares. He was whistling happily when they left, having sold three pistols in the space of ten minutes.

From the gunsmith, they went to the market where Sara bought enough food to last for several days.

It was nearing nine o'clock when they returned to Sara's apartment.

Gabriel had just removed his cloak when he sensed the intruders. He managed to fire a single shot before six hulking brutes overpowered him, dragging him inside the parlor. They drenched him from head to foot with holy water, then bound his hands and feet with thick chains. When that was done, one of the creatures placed a heavy silver cross on his chest.

Maurice, who had been rendered unconscious by a blow to the back of the head when he threw himself between one of the brutes and Sara, lay face down on the floor. The strong scent of blood rose in the air.