Embrace the Night (39 page)

In a book, she read that, in ancient times, people had believed that a dead body could become a vampire if an animal such as a dog or a cat jumped over it. And if a bat flew over a body, there was no escape from becoming a vampire. Likewise, if one's shadow was stolen, becoming a vampire was inevitable. If the deceased couldn't be buried, either because the earth would not accept the body, as with the case of evil-doers, or because the authorities would object, then the victim would more than likely become a vampire.

Sarah shook her head. How could people ever have believed in such nonsense?

How could she believe in reincarnation, in vampires?

But she had no doubt that Gabriel was what he said he was; she'd seen the proof with her own eyes. And if one was made a vampire, then surely one could be unmade, and she would not rest until she found a cure, because there were only two alternatives: living the past over again, or becoming what Gabriel was, and she knew that was something she could never do. If she was going to live forever, then she wanted it to be in heaven or paradise, surrounded by joy and happiness and those she had loved in life; she didn't want to live forever at the expense of others, not even to be with Gabriel.

She spent most of the day at the library before returning to the house. She was aware of a keen sense of anticipation as she went into the kitchen and fixed something to eat.

She was putting the dishes in the dishwasher when she sensed Gabriel's presence, and then he was standing behind her, his arms slipping around her waist
to
draw her back against him.

They stood that way for a long moment, with her hand stroking his while he rained kisses along the side of her neck.

"So," he said at last, "what did you do today?"

"I did some research on vampires."

"Oh? And what did you learn?"

"Everything but how to cure one."

He turned her in his arms and brushed a kiss across her lips. "I'm sure any cure you found in a book would be a waste of time, if one exists at all."

"Well, I'm not giving up. Haven't you ever heard of any vampire who returned to his former state?"

Gabriel shrugged. "There are stories, rumors of vampires who tried to reenter mortality."

"Did it work?"

"There is a legend among vampires that one of our kind was successfully transformed back to his human state."

"That's great!"

"It's only a fable, Sarah. To my knowledge, no vampire has ever regained his humanity." He drew her up against him, holding her tight. "One must go to the very brink of death to become a vampire. Crossing the chasm from death to life is not easy. It is, in many ways, like dying again."

"I don't want you to die."

He laughed softly, his breath fanning her cheek. "I'm already dead."

His words sent a chill down her spine. "So, what are we going to do?"

"I know a very old vampire, one older even than Nina. He lives in France. If there is a cure, Quillan would know of it."

"And if there isn't?"

"I don't know, Sarah. I only know I can't watch you die again."

"I'll come back to you, Gabriel. I found you in this life, and I'll find you again."

"Perhaps."

"How soon can we leave for France?"

"I don't know if he even exists anymore."

"Can you find out?"

"I'll try. I'll write him tomorrow and then we'll just have to wait and see."

She looked up at him, snatches of what she'd read coming back to her. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask."

"Do you really sleep in a… a coffin?"

"No. I could never overcome my aversion to that aspect of being a vampire. I sleep in a large box made of pine, and though it resembles a coffin in size and shape, it's just a box."

"Where is it?"

"In the basement. Would you care to see it?"

"No, I don't think so." She toyed with a lock of her hair. They needed a diversion, she thought, something to think about other than vampires and cures. "Do you have a VCR?"

He frowned a moment. VCR? Ah, a video cassette recorder, he thought, another remarkable invention. "No, why?"

"I thought it would be fun to sit in front of the fire and watch some movies."

"Then that's what we'll do."

Two hours later, Sarah was sitting on Gabriel's lap watching
Bram Stoker's Dracula
. So much for forgetting about vampires, she mused ruefully.

Earlier, they had braved the elements and driven to Circuit City where they had bought the best VCR on the market, as well as a stereo. From there, they'd gone to the Wherehouse and picked up a half-dozen videos.

For Gabriel, who had never been inside a video store, it had been quite an experience. He had wandered up and down the aisles until he came to the Horror section, his gaze drawn to the numerous vampire videos. He had chosen three while Sarah went in search of
Dances With Wolves, Sleepless in Seattle
, and
The Last of the Mohicans
. Their last stop had been at the market to buy popcorn and 7-Up.

Now, Sarah snuggled against Gabriel, one hand covering her eyes, as rivers of blood filled the screen. She'd tried to watch
Bram Stoker's Dracula
once before, and while she'd been fascinated by the love story between Mina and the Count, she'd sat through a good deal of it with her eyes closed, disgusted by the blood and the violence. She had cried at the end when Mina lopped off Dracula's head.

"Amazing," Gabriel remarked when it was over. "Simply amazing."

"Can we watch something funny now?" Sarah asked, slipping off his lap to eject the cassette from the VCR.

Gabriel glanced at the other two vampire movies stacked on top of the TV, then shrugged.

"We can watch another vampire movie later if you want," Sarah said, "although I'll probably have nightmares."

"You're living with a vampire, Sarah," he reminded her, his expression bleak. "If that doesn't give you nightmares, I doubt one of these silly movies will."

She made a face at him. "Very funny. I'm going to make some popcorn…"

Her gaze met his, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was, that a bowl of popcorn, mundane as it might be, somehow served to emphasize the gulf between them.

"Can I bring you a glass of wine?"

At Gabriel's nod, she fled into the kitchen. They had to find a cure, she thought as she poured kernels into the hot-air popper. They had to! He might be able to live forever, but his existence was so empty. She wanted to be able to walk with him in the park on a cold rainy day, jog along the beach with the sun overhead, go to the zoo, the museum, hike the Grand Canyon. She wanted to make love in the daylight, to fall asleep in his arms, and wake up to his kisses. She wanted to have his children, grow old at his side…

She dumped the popcorn into a bowl, then stared into the wine she had poured for him. Always red wine. The color of blood.

She looked out the kitchen window, remembering her past life with Gabriel. At first, it had been wonderful. She had loved the castle, loved Spain, loved Gabriel beyond words. He had shown her the world, and the fact that she had to spend her days alone had been a small price to pay for the joy she had found in his arms at night. But, as wonderful as the first half of her life had been, the last half had been a torment. It had been awful, growing old while Gabriel stayed forever the same.

When she started to look like his mother instead of his wife, they had stopped going outside of the castle together because there was no way to explain the fact that Gabriel wasn't aging while everyone around him grew older.

And yet he had loved her to the end. She had never lacked for anything; she had only to mention that she wanted something, needed something, and it was hers. During the last year of her life, when she had been old and frail, he had cared for her as tenderly as ever a man cared for a woman. He had begged her not to leave him, to accept the Dark Gift, but by then it had been too late. She had been too old, and even though she had not wanted to die, she hadn't wanted to live forever as an old woman, either, and in the end, knowing she had made the right choice, she had died peacefully in Gabriel's arms. His face, unchanged in the fifty-four years they had spent together, had been the last thing she had seen on this earth.

And now she was with him again, and if they couldn't find a way to restore him to mortality, she would have to decide whether she wanted to die a second time, or become what he was.

She was reaching for the bowl when she sensed him standing behind her. Forcing a smile, she turned around to face him.

"You don't have to decide tonight, Sarah," he said quietly. "Not tonight, or this year, or the next."

"I know, but… I don't know what to do."

"Come and watch your movie."

She followed him into the living room, settled herself on his lap, and tried to concentrate on Meg Ryan's efforts to meet Tom Hanks, but the words made no sense, the humor seemed flat. The popcorn tasted like ashes. She didn't want to spend the next year trying to decide what to do. She didn't want to worry about it and fret over it, didn't want it hanging over her head. She wanted the decision made now.

Putting the bowl aside, she turned off the TV and faced Gabriel. "I think, if we can't find a cure, that you should make me what you are."

"Is that what you really want?"

"I don't know. And I don't want to have to decide. I just want you to do it."

"And what if you hate me for it?"

"I don't think I could ever hate you."

"Maybe not, but what if you're wrong, Sarah? I couldn't endure your hatred for the rest of my existence, however long that might be." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. "I'll see if I can get in touch with Quillan. After we hear from him, we can decide about the future."

Sarah nodded. She would put it out of her mind until they heard from the vampire in France. Until then… She smiled at Gabriel as she took him by the hand and led him upstairs to bed. Until then, she intended to spend every minute getting reacquainted with the incredible man who had been her husband.

Because she didn't like spending her days with nothing to do, Sarah decided to try to find a job. She broached the subject on a Friday night while they sat in the kitchen playing rummy.

She hadn't expected Gabriel to object, but he did. Strenuously.

"I know women in your time didn't work, but I need something to do," Sarah argued. She shook her head, needing to make him understand how she felt. "I can't just vegetate on the sofa watching soap operas all day."

"Forgive me." Gabriel tossed his cards onto the table and stood up. "I didn't realize you were unhappy here."

"I'm not unhappy," Sarah said quickly. "Just bored." She looked up at him, suddenly curious. "You've lived hundreds of years. What did you do to pass the time?"

"A variety of things, some you wouldn't believe."

"Like what?"

"For a few years, I was a spy for one of the French kings. I can't remember now which one it was. Skulking around in the shadows was the perfect occupation for a man who must live always in darkness. For a time, I was a knight, and after that, a minstrel—"

"A minstrel!"

"I've been told my voice is passable."

"Would you sing for me?" Sarah asked, intrigued.

His gaze moved over her face, his expression softening. "I sang for you once before."

"Sing for me now. Please."

Gabriel thought for a moment, and then he began to sing an old Italian ballad of unrequited love.

His voice was deep, melodic, haunting. He sang in Italian, but he sang with such emotion Sarah had no trouble understanding the message. His voice wrapped around her, soft as candlelight, as poignant as a lover's last caress.

And memories flooded her mind. Memories of Gabriel coming to her in the dark of night, singing to her as he held her in his arms and danced her around her room in the orphanage, making her feel loved. Cherished. Beautiful. Gabriel. How could she ever have forgotten the magic of his touch, the power and beauty of his voice?

He held out his hand, and she took it, letting him draw her to her feet. For a long moment, he gazed into her eyes, the richness of his voice enveloping her as he drew her into his arms and waltzed her around the room.

The years faded away, and she was a young girl again, filled with bitterness because she couldn't walk, couldn't dance, and then Gabriel had come into her life, and her whole world had turned upside down.

"That was beautiful," she murmured when the song ended. "You must have been the most sought after minstrel of your time. No doubt women swooned at your feet."

"There were those who paid handsomely for my talent," Gabriel allowed. "Some paid in coin of the realm, and others…" He shrugged, but his meaning was clear.

"I'm sure you must have made a fortune," Sarah said dryly.

"I had no need to work."

Taking Sarah by the hand, he led her into the parlor. Sitting down in the room's only chair, he pulled her onto his lap, his mood turning suddenly dark as he remembered the wealth Nina had showered on him the night he had been made vampire. In the years since then, he had made a multitude of wise, long-term investments. Money was the least of his worries, he thought.

"I guess I don't
need
to work, either," Sarah said, "but I need something to do, something to occupy my mind. Can't you understand that?"

He understood, but he did not like the idea of her working, of being out in the world of mortal men. He knew that wanting her to stay home was an antiquated notion, as outdated as the horse-and-buggy and gaslights. Nevertheless, he found some of the world's modern ideas difficult to accept.

"Isn't there something you could do at home to pass the time?" he asked.

"Well, I suppose I could try decorating the house." Sarah glanced around the spartanly furnished parlor. "Most of the rooms are conspicuously empty."

"Do whatever you like," Gabriel said, relieved that she had given in so readily. "Buy whatever you wish. Spend as much as you need. All I ask is that you be here when I rise."