his mind growing dim. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. And tomorrow it would all be over.
He wondered dispassionately how long it would take for him to die, if his body would burst into flame at the first fiery touch of the midday sun, or if he would writhe in agony like a worm on a hot rock. And what of his soul, if he still had one? Would it find rest at last? Or would it burn forever in the inferno of an endless and unforgiving hell?
But even the thought of spending eternity in the bowels of perdition didn't frighten him now because he was already on fire, his insides burning as the hunger raged relentlessly through his body, tearing at his insides with talons of flame.
A last meal, he thought dully. Weren't the condemned entitled to a last meal?
"Gabriel?"
He whirled around, startled by the sound of her voice.
"I knocked," Sarah said, and then, seeing his face, she took a step backward, one hand pressed to the back of his chair to steady herself. She didn't have to ask what was wrong. She knew. She had seen him like this once before, in the cellar of an abandoned cottage.
"Go away." He spoke the words through tightly clenched teeth.
Sarah nodded, intending to do just that, but her feet refused to obey and she stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear her gaze from his face. He wore a black sweater that emphasized the pallor of his skin. His eyes burned with a familiar red glow. His nostrils flared, like those of a wolf on the scent of blood...
"Go... away... now."
"It seems as if you're always trying to get rid of me."
He stared at her, trying to understand what she was saying, but the scent of her blood was overpowering, making it difficult to think of anything but the hunger roaring through him, growing stronger with each passing minute.
"You were lucky the last time," he said, his voice dry and brittle. "I cannot promise you will be so lucky now." He took a deep breath, willing his hands to stop shaking. "Why did you come here?"
"We need to talk."
"Talk?" He shook his head. "About what?"
"About us, about what we're going to do."
"There is no us. Go away, Sarah."
"I can't. I've spent every minute of the last three weeks remembering another life in another time, remembering the night we made love here, in this house. I love you, Gabriel."
He closed his eyes. Her words washed over him, cleansing the bitterness from his heart. Sweet words, he mused, the most welcome words in the world.
With an effort, he turned away from her. "Sarah, please... go away."
"You need blood." She had a sudden sense of deja vu as she spoke the words, the same words she'd said a hundred years ago.
He would have laughed if he hadn't been in such agony. Once before he had tried to send her away, and she had stubbornly refused to go. And now it was happening again. Was this to be the pattern of his life from now on, to find her and lose her again and again, to ease his fiendish hunger with a few drops of her precious blood, to watch her grow old and die in his arms?
A harsh cry rose in his throat. He would not do it again. Could not do it again.
"Go home, Sarah. Forget all of this."
He flinched as her arms slid around his waist. It was a sign of his weakness that he hadn't heard her come up behind him. Had she been an enemy, he would likely be dead now, a wooden stake through his heart. An hour ago, a moment ago, he would have welcomed death, but now Sarah was here, and life was again worth living.
"We've been through all this before, Gabriel," she said, pressing her cheek against his back. "Take what you need."
"And what if I can't stop this time, cara? What if I take too much? What if I take it all?" He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, shuddering sigh. "If you decide to stay with me now, I won't watch you die, not this time. Are you prepared to live the life of a vampire?"
"I don't know. It seems like such a horrible way to live."
"Horrible?" He stared down at her hands, locked around his waist. It hadn't been a horrible existence, but it had been lonely. He remembered how it had been when first he'd been