Embrace the Night (31 page)

"Yes, as you will keep yours. She is there," Nina said, gesturing at a patch of uneven ground.

He was there in two long strides, removing the heavy block of sod, lifting Sara from the hole.

"Gabriel…" Her voice was hoarse, her face pale and haggard. "I knew you would come," she whispered, and collapsed in his arms.

Cradling her against his chest, Gabriel dropped to his knees, quickly removing the ropes that bound her, massaging her hands and feet.

"Leave her," Nina said curtly. "Leave her now and come to me."

Gabriel bit back his words of protest. Sara was not badly hurt, only frightened and exhausted; she would be all right.

Rising to his feet, he went to stand before Nina, his pride already rebelling at her imperious demands. In all the centuries since this woman had transformed him, no one had dictated what he would or would not do. But all that was changed now. He had surrendered control of his life to Nina in order to keep Sara safe.

But he would have his revenge. When Sara's life was no longer in danger, when she had passed through mortality and was beyond Nina's grasp, he would have his revenge.

"You remember your promise, Giovanni?" Nina asked archly. "You will be my slave. You will do whatever I wish, whenever I wish it."

"I remember."

She smiled benignly as she held out her hand. "Let us go, then. It is hours until dawn. We will hunt together, and then you will share my resting place."

"Yes,
bella
." He took Nina's hand in his. It was cold and hard where Sara's was warm and filled with life. Heartsick that he must leave her behind, he fell into step beside Nina.

"No!" Sara's voice cut across the stillness of the night. "You can't have him! He's mine."

Nina whirled around, her face contorted with rage. "You dare defy me?"

Sara shook her head, frightened by the rage in the vampire woman's eyes.

"Then be still, mortal, before I destroy you."

"You will not touch her," Gabriel said, his hand tightening on Nina's. "Remember
your
promise."

"Gabriel, why are you going with her?"

"He's mine now," Nina said triumphantly. "He has vowed to be my slave for as long as he survives."

"No! He loves me."

"Love has nothing to do with our bargain," Nina retorted, her voice filled with disdain. "Now be gone before I destroy you."

"Is this what you want, Gabriel?" Sara asked.

"Yes."

"You're lying! You love me, not her."

"Nina spoke the truth,
cara
. Love has nothing to do with our bargain." But that, too, was a lie. Love had everything to do with it, his love for Sara.

"Come, Giovanni," Nina said, tugging on his hand. "I grow weary of this conversation."

"Gabriel, don't leave me!"

"I'm afraid I must," he said bitterly. "My mistress calls, and I must obey."

Sara knew suddenly what he had done; he had forfeited his freedom to spare her life. Had he been a mortal man, with a normal span of years, it would have been a sacrifice of untold worth, but Gabriel was a vampire. Thousands of years stretched before him, making his sacrifice beyond comprehension. She let her mind meld with his, felt the anger surging through him because Nina had the upper hand. She felt his anguish at losing her, his revulsion at the thought of spending endless nights as Nina's slave, swallowing his pride while she bent his will to hers.

Sara watched Gabriel turn away to follow Nina, and in that instant she knew she could not let him do it. Better she should forfeit the remainder of her short span of life than allow the man she loved with all her heart and soul to spend an eternity as a slave to this heartless vampire.

"No, Gabriel," she cried, and running after him, she wrenched his hand from Nina's. "I won't let you spend the rest of your life with this horrible woman on my account."

"You cannot stop him!" Nina cried, and summoning her revenant power, she lashed out at Sara, her hand striking her across the face, hurling Sara backward so that she fell against an ancient tombstone.

"Leave her alone!" Gabriel roared.

But Nina ignored him. She stared at Sara, the hatred blazing out of her eyes, burning into Sara's like a living flame.

Sara screamed and shielded her eyes as pain lashed through her.

Gabriel stood where he was, watching Nina's fury build, until every ounce of her energy was focused on the girl writhing helplessly on the ground. And then, with Sara's cries ringing in his ears, he picked up a splintered piece of wood and walked toward Nina. The wood seared his flesh, and he realized in some dim corner of his mind that it had once been a part of a cross.

But the pain scorching his hand was insignificant. His only thought was to put an end to Sara's agony.

"Nina."

He spoke her name quietly, yet it echoed like thunder in the stillness. Face contorted with anger, she whirled around to confront him, and he drove the stake through her heart.

For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Nina stared up at him, her mouth open in a soundless cry of surprise, and then a torrent of blood spewed from her lips and she slowly spiraled to the ground.

In the space of a heartbeat, Gabriel was at Sara's side, drawing her into his arms, whispering her name over and over again. She huddled against him, sobs racking her body from head to heel, while he rocked her back and forth, one hand stroking her hair.

After a long while, she lay still in his embrace, her eyes closed, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Only then did he glance over his shoulder. There was no sign of Nina save for a handful of ashes, and even as he watched, a gust of wind caught them up and carried them away, so that nothing at all remained.

Gabriel checked into the first hotel he saw. Fixing the desk clerk with a hard stare that proscribed any questions, he demanded a room, warned that they were not to be disturbed for any reason, then carried Sara swiftly up the stairs.

Once inside the room, he closed and locked the door. With gentle hands he undressed Sara, inwardly lamenting the horror she had endured.

She remained quietly acquiescent as a bath was prepared. He lifted her into the tub, then carefully washed her from head to foot. When he was satisfied that every speck of dirt and debris had been scrubbed from her hair and skin, he lifted her from the tub, dried her, then wrapped her in a blanket.

And still she didn't speak, not a word since he had carried her out of the cemetery. It was as if she had retreated deep into herself. He had done this to her, he thought bitterly. If he had stayed out of her life, none of this would have happened.

She didn't speak when he put her to bed, though she refused to let go of his hand. Murmuring her name, assuring her that everything would be all right, Gabriel held her in his arms until she fell asleep.

How fragile she was, he thought as his fingers skimmed her cheek. And yet, she had defied Nina, proving she had the courage of a tigress and the heart of a warrior.

Easing out of bed, he went to the window and stared into the darkness, but it was Nina's face he saw, her eyes wide with surprise and pain as he drove the stake through her heart. What had she felt in those last few moments as she felt her strength ebb, and where was she now? Had a benevolent being taken her soul to heaven, or was she even now roasting in the flames of perdition, doing penance for all the blood she had shed, all the lives she had destroyed?

What would be his fate when death finally claimed him?

He stood at the window until he sensed dawn approaching, and then he closed the heavy drapes and slid under the covers beside Sara.

Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her close, absorbing her goodness and warmth into himself, until the sun climbed over the horizon and darkness claimed him. Yet even in his deathlike sleep, he was aware of her beside him. It seemed her heart beat in rhythm with his and he knew, without knowing how he knew, that she slept at his side throughout the day.

A little before dusk, he opened his eyes to find her head pillowed on his shoulder. A moment later, her eyelids fluttered open. And then, to his delight, she smiled at him.

And then she frowned. "Where are we?"

"A hotel room."

She glanced at the window. "What time is it?"

"A little before dusk. You slept the day away, I'm afraid."

"Where's… what happened to… to Nina?"

"She's dead."

"You killed her?"

"Yes."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Her stomach growled loudly in the silence.

Gabriel smiled indulgently. "I think perhaps I should feed you."

"I
am
hungry," she allowed, and yet she couldn't help feeling guilty for thinking of something as mundane as food after what they'd been through the night before.

Gabriel's gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. "Shall I call for room service?"

"Maybe later." She paused a moment. "Where's Maurice?"

There was no easy way to say it, Gabriel thought, no way to take the sting from the words. "He's dead."

Sara shook her head, not wanting to believe even though she could see the truth of it in Gabriel's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sara. He was a brave man. He loved you very much, more than you'll ever know."

"It's my fault," she said, her voice ragged with regret. "My fault that he's dead."

"No,
cara
, if it's anyone's fault, it's Nina's and she's paid for it."

Quiet tears slipped down Sara's cheeks as she mourned the death of her friend.

"It's only because of Maurice that I was able to come after you," Gabriel told her, gently wiping away her tears. "We owe him a great deal, you and I." He caught her hands in his and pressed them to his lips. "Tell me what you want, Sara."

"What do you mean?"

"The danger is past now. There's no one to hurt you, and now you must decide what it is you want to do with your life."

"Don't you know? I want to spend it with you."

"Are you sure? I warned you once before that, once you were mine, I would never let you go. Are you prepared to be mine for as long as you live, to share my dark existence? Can you be happy with only me, knowing you will never have children, that I will be the only family you will ever have?"

"Yes, Gabriel." She stroked his cheek with her fingertips, then sealed her promise with a kiss. "I'll live only for you, dance only for you. I'll be your sunshine, as you'll be mine, and all my tomorrows will be yours."

Humbled, as always, by her love and her trust, Gabriel drew Sara into his arms and held her close to his heart. He would lay the world at her feet, shower her with love, and pray that his meager offerings would be reward enough for sharing the loneliness of his existence. Gazing into her eyes, he vowed to do all in his power to make her happy so that she would never have cause to regret her decision.

And then she was lifting her face to his, pressing her lips to his, and there was no more time for thoughts of the future; there was only the here and the now, and the woman in his arms.

She had spoken truly, he thought as he covered her mouth with his. She was his sunshine, the light to his darkness, and from this night forward, all their tomorrows would be one.

Los Angeles, 1995

He stood on the upper balcony of a mansion located in the hills overlooking Los Angeles, staring at the lights that stretched away as far as the eye could see. So many changes in the world since he had gone to ground half a century ago, he mused. Miraculous changes in science, in people and places. So many changes, while he had remained the same.

Upon rising from his fifty-five year rest, he had spent weeks reading newspapers and magazines from the world over in an effort to bring himself up to date. Only when he felt he had learned enough to function in this new age had he left Salamanca. He could not bring himself to stay in the castle now that Sara was gone.

His first instinct had been to go home to Italy, but nothing there had seemed familiar; the village where he had grown up no longer existed, and so he had left there, as well, and come to the United States, where there would be nothing to remind him of Sara, or of the life he had left behind so many years ago.

He had been a part of this new and modern world for less than a year, and already he didn't like it. Everything seemed transient, rushed, tawdry. Twentieth-century man seemed to be in a terrible rush. Food was cooked in minutes in microwave ovens, clothes no longer needed to be ironed, airplanes carried passengers from one end of the world to the other in a matter of hours. Everyone seemed in a hurry all the time, almost as if they were afraid to slow down for fear they would realize they had sacrificed quality for quantity, serenity for chaos.

There were, however, a few things the modern age had wrought that he liked very much. Television was one of them. Sports cars were another. One of the first things he had done upon arriving in the United States was to buy an automobile. He had learned to drive as effortlessly as he learned everything. He loved the speed, the thrill of driving a sleek sports car at a hundred miles an hour down a narrow ribbon of road in the dark of night, the countryside whipping past in a blur.

And yet, as much as he loved fast cars, there was no spiritual communion
between machine and man as there was between horse and rider. The dark red
Jaguar didn't nuzzle his arm or whinny a soft welcome. He didn't find the same
pleasure behind the wheel of the car that he found on the back of his horse, and
yet he loved the soft purr of the Jag's engine, the feel of the wind in his face as he roared down the highway.

He had been shocked by the change in fashion. Women paraded around in scandalously short pants and tops that barely covered their private parts, flaunting their bodies. Even dresses revealed more than they covered. And hair styles—he had been shocked the first time he had seen a woman with her hair cut above her ears. The fact that it was dyed a bright orange had hardly registered.