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 Draculaonce 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