And yet he could think of little else. Ah, to hold her in his arms, to feel his body become one with hers as he drank of her sweetness...
For a moment, he closed his eyes and let himself imagine it, and then he swore, a long, vile oath filled with pain and longing.
Hands clenched, he turned down a dark street, his self-anger turning to loathing, and the loathing to rage. He felt the need to kill, to strike out, to make someone else suffer as he was suffering.
Pity the poor mortal who next crossed his path, he thought, and gave himself over to the hunger pounding through him.
She woke covered with perspiration, Gabriel's name on her lips. Shivering, she drew the covers up to her chin.
It had only been a dream. Only a dream.
She spoke the words aloud, finding comfort in the sound of her own voice. A distant bell chimed the hour. Four o'clock.
Gradually, her breathing returned to normal. Only a dream, she said again, but it had been so real. She had felt the cold breath of the night, smelled the rank odor of fear rising from the body of the faceless man cowering in the shadows. She had sensed a deep anger, a wild, uncontrollable evil personified by a being in a flowing black cloak. Even now, she could feel his anguish, his loneliness, the alienation that cut him off from the rest of humanity.
It had all been so clear in the dream, but now it made no sense. No sense at all.
With a slight shake of her head, she snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes.
It was just a dream, nothing more.
Sunk in the depths of despair, Gabriel prowled the deserted abbey. What had happened to his self-control? Not for centuries had he taken enough blood to kill, only enough to ease the pain of the hunger, to ease his unholy thirst.
A low groan rose in his throat. Sara had happened. He wanted her and couldn't have her. Somehow, his desire and his frustration had gotten tangled up with his lust for blood.
It couldn't happen again. It had taken him centuries to learn to control the hunger, to give himself the illusion that he was more man than monster.
Had he been able, he would have prayed for forgiveness, but he had forfeited the right to divine intervention long ago.
"Where will we go tonight?"
Gabriel stared at her. She'd been waiting for him again, clothed in her new dress, her eyes bright with anticipation. Her goodness drew him, soothed him, calmed his dark side even as her beauty, her innocence, teased his desire.
He stared at the pulse throbbing in her throat.
"Go?"
Sara nodded.
With an effort, he lifted his gaze to her face. "Where would you like to go?"
"I don't suppose you have a horse?"
"A horse?"
"I've always wanted to ride."
He bowed from the waist. "Whatever you wish, milady," he said. "I'll not be gone long."
It was like having found a magic wand, Sara mused as she waited for him to return. She had only to voice her desire, and he produced it.
Twenty minutes later, she was seated before him on a prancing black stallion. It was a beautiful animal, tall and muscular, with a flowing mane and tail.
She leaned forward to stroke the stallion's neck. His coat felt like velvet beneath her hand. "What's his name?"
"Necromancer," Gabriel replied, pride and affection evident in his tone.
"Necromancer? What does it mean?"
"One who communicates with the spirits of the dead."
Sara glanced at him over her shoulder. "That seems an odd name for a horse."
"Odd, perhaps," Gabriel replied cryptically, "but fitting."
"Fitting? In what way?"
"Do you want to ride, Sara, or spend the night asking foolish questions?"
She pouted prettily for a moment, and then grinned at him. "Ride!"
A word from Gabriel, and they were cantering through the dark night, heading into the countryside.
"Faster," Sara urged.
"You're not afraid?"
"Not with you."
"You should be afraid, Sara Jayne," he muttered under his breath, "especially with me."
He squeezed the stallion's flanks with his knees and the horse shot forward, his powerful hooves skimming across the ground.
Sara shrieked with delight as they raced through the darkness. This was power, she thought, the surging body of the horse, the man's strong arm wrapped securely around her waist. The wind whipped through her hair, stinging her cheeks and making her eyes water, but she only threw back her head and laughed.
"Faster!" she cried, reveling in the sense of freedom that surged within her.
Hedges and trees and sleeping farmhouses passed by in