"I have to try it, Sarah. If there's any chance at all, I have to try it." He tilted her head up. "It's what you want, isn't it?"
"Not anymore."
"Then it's what I want."
"I don't believe that. You're doing it for me, I know you are."
"I want us to be together, not just at night. I want to live as a man again, to walk in the sun with you at my side."
"But what if it doesn't work?"
"Then you must go on with your life. Find a man who will love you and give you children."
"No."
"You found me in this life, cara. If it's possible, I will find you in death."
His mind was made up, and there was nothing she could say to change it.
He carried her upstairs and made love to her, slowly, deliberately, savoring each sensation, storing them in his mind. If the cure proved ineffective, he would have only these last two weeks to live. To a man who had survived over four and a half centuries, two weeks seemed but a moment.
And now the hours sped swiftly by.
Too soon, it was almost midnight.
Lying in bed, Sarah watched him dress. He left the room for a moment, and when he returned, he was wearing his cloak.
"I won't be long," he promised, bestowing a kiss on her cheek. "Keep the bed warm for me."
She choked back a sob as she watched him leave the room, overcome with a terrible premonition that she would never see him again.
The door opened at his bidding. He stood in the entryway for a moment, his senses probing the darkness of the house.
"In here, Giovanni."
Quillan's voice. Deep. Predatory. Deadly.
Too late, Gabriel realized Quillan had not come alone.
Three vampires materialized out of the shadows; a fourth ghosted up behind him, cutting off his escape. Fledglings all, they circled him like winter-starved wolves, fangs gleaming even in the darkness, eyes aglow.
Fear slithered down Gabriel's spine. "What do you want?"
"We cannot let you rejoin the ranks of humanity," Quillan said flatly. "You know our habits, our weaknesses. We cannot take a chance that you might turn against us."
"Why would I do that? What would I have to gain?"
Quillan shrugged. "Everything. Nothing. As I said, it is a chance we cannot take."
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder. A tall, slender vampire stood behind him, a stake clutched in his gloved hands. "So you're going to destroy me."
Quillan nodded. "A stake through the heart has always been the preferred method," he said.
Gabriel was afraid, and he didn't like it. Afraid for himself. Afraid for Sarah. "What of the woman?"
"She dies, too. Delano and Sydelle are on their way as we speak."
"No!" The denial was ripped from Gabriel's throat.
"We have survived thousands of years only because we have never let mankind know of our existence. They may suspect. They may have seen or heard something for which they have no logical explanation, but they do not want to believe. The woman dies."
"Quillan, please..."
"Too late, Giovanni."
They moved toward him, closing the circle. But Gabriel had not survived as long as he had by being foolish. In 464 years, he had trusted no other vampire, and only two mortals.
With a low growl, he sprinted past the two young vampires in front of him, his hand reaching inside his cloak, delving into his pants pocket as he vaulted the stairs to the second-story landing.
Whirling around, he fired the pistol four times in rapid succession. The bullets, made of solid silver, had been loaded into the gun by the man who owned the gun shop. They struck the fledgling vampires with deadly precision, and then Quillan was on him, knocking the pistol from his grasp. Locked together, they tumbled down the stairs. Quillan, heavier, older, was on top when they hit the bottom of the stairs.
His hands closed around Gabriel's throat, his weight pinning Gabriel to the floor as he bent toward him, his fangs bared.
"Do not fight me, Giovanni," Quillan rasped, his hand closing over the stake that had fallen from his fledgling's hand. "You are too late to save the woman, and in a moment, you will join her..."
Sarah heard the front door open and breathed a sigh of relief. He was back!
She sat up, combing her fingers through her hair, her heart pounding with happiness. So much for premonitions, she thought.
And then she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Unfamiliar footsteps.
Her gaze darted around the room, seeking a weapon, but found nothing. Muttering a silent prayer,