with the guilt of a thousand lifetimes, he closed his eyes, and his mind filled with an image of blood. Rivers of blood. Oceans of death. Centuries of killing, of bloodletting. Damned. The Dark Gift had given him eternal life. And eternal damnation.
Thinking to frighten her away, he let her look deep into his eyes, knowing that what she saw within his soul would speak more eloquently than words.
He clenched his hands, waiting for the compassion in her eyes to turn to revulsion. But it didn't happen.
She gazed down at his upturned face for an endless moment, and then he felt the touch of her hand in his hair.
"My poor angel," she whispered. "Can't you tell me what it is that haunts you so?"
He shook his head, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
"Gabriel." His name, nothing more, and then she leaned forward and kissed him.
It was no more than a feathering of her lips across his, but it exploded through him like concentrated sunlight. Hotter than a midsummer day, brighter than lightning, it burned through him, and for a moment he felt whole again. Clean again.
Humbled to the core of his being, he bowed his head so she couldn't see his tears.
"I will love you, Gabriel," she said, still stroking his hair. "I can't help myself."
"Sara..."
"You don't have to love me back," she said quickly. "I just wanted you to know that you're not alone anymore."
A long, shuddering sigh coursed through him, and then he took her hands in his, holding them tightly, feeling the heat of her blood, the pulse of her heart. Gently, he kissed her fingertips, and then, gaining his feet, he swung her into his arms.
"It's late," he said, his voice thick with the tide of emotions roiling within him. "We should go before you catch a chill."
"You're not angry?"
"No, cara."
How could he be angry with her? She was light and life, hope and innocence, long walks on bright summer days. He was tempted to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness for his whole miserable existence.
But he couldn't do that, couldn't burden her with the knowledge of what he was. Couldn't tarnish her love with the truth.
It was near dawn when they reached the orphanage. Once he had her settled in bed, he knelt beside her. "Thank you, Sara."
She turned on her side, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she took his hand in hers. "For what?"
"For your sweetness. For your words of love. I'll treasure them always."
"Gabriel." The smile faded from her lips. "You're not trying to tell me good-bye, are you?"
He stared down at their joined hands; hers small and pale and fragile, pulsing with the energy of life, his large and cold, indelibly stained with blood and death.
If he had a shred of honor left, he would tell her good-bye and never see her again.
But then, even when he had been a mortal man, he'd always had trouble doing the honorable thing when it conflicted with something he wanted. And he wanted - no, needed - Sara. Needed her as he'd never needed anything else in his accursed life. And perhaps, in a way, she needed him. And even if it wasn't so, it eased his conscience to think it true.
"Gabriel?"
"No, cara, I'm not planning to tell you good-bye. Not now. Not ever."
The sweet relief in her eyes stabbed him to the heart. And he, cold, selfish monster that he was, was glad of it. Right or wrong, he couldn't let her go.
"Till tomorrow, then?" she said, smiling once more.
"Till tomorrow, cara mia," he murmured. And for all the tomorrows of your life.
PART One Chapter Seven
Images flashed through his mind - scattered images of writhing flames, of frightened children crying, of women weeping hysterically.
Pain seared through him. Excruciating, nauseating pain.
He fought through the layers of oblivion, his gaze opening on darkness. He knew immediately that it was still daylight and for a moment he lay there, confused. Never before had anything save the threat of imminent danger disturbed the heavy lethargy that weighed him down during the light of day.
Sara!
He knew in that moment that her life was in danger, that the pain that had seared through him had been her pain. His hands clenched at his sides as he tried to rise. It was like trying to fight his way out of quicksand, and he fell back, breathing heavily, fear making his heart beat fast.
Sara!
His mind screamed her name, echoing and reechoing like