"Nothing. You've been through quite an ordeal. You need to conserve your strength."
"But I feel fine." She looked up at him, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Why do I feel fine?" She stared down at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. "Why am I healing so fast? Gabriel, I'm frightened."
"Don't be." He took a step toward her, wanting, needing, to hold her, yet afraid to get too close, afraid he wouldn't be able to control the hunger her nearness aroused. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"But the fire... Gabriel, it burned me. I..." She took a deep breath. "I should have died. I was dying. I remember hearing Sister Mary Josepha tell Sister Mary Louisa that my death would be a blessing. I remember Father Dominic standing over me, giving me last rites."
She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with confusion. "What happened to me, Gabriel? Why didn't I die?"
"I can't explain it, cara. Only trust me. Believe me when I tell you that there's nothing to fear."
But she couldn't help being frightened. All day, she had avoided asking herself these questions. In the light of day, she could pretend everything was all right, that nothing out of the ordinary had happened to her. But she couldn't pretend anymore. She'd been badly burned, but it didn't hurt. Already, the signs of injury were disappearing; in a few days they'd probably be gone.
A soft oath escaped Gabriel's lips as he saw the anguish, the confusion, in Sara's eyes. Two long strides carried him to her bedside. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to his chair and sat down, cradling her in his arms as if she were a child.
He gazed deep into her eyes, bending her will to his. "Go to sleep, cara. There is nothing to fear. Sleep, cara mia. Sleep..."
He felt the tension drain out of her as her eyelids grew heavy. Moments later, she was asleep.
PART One Chapter Eight
With the power of his mind, Gabriel willed Sara to sleep throughout the next day.
He rose with the onset of dusk. Changed his clothes. Left the catacombs, bound for the orphanage.
Dissolving into mist, he entered the building that had been Sara's home for the past thirteen years. In all that time, he had never ventured into any room but hers. The acrid smell of smoke hung over the house.
He moved down the hallway, peering into the kitchen, the parlor. A large room filled with books and toys, easels and paints, was located at the end of the hallway. Inside, two nuns watched over a dozen children engaged in a variety of activities.
Instinctively, he passed by the chapel, and the small rooms where the nuns slept.
The upstairs was mostly bedrooms. The room above Sara's was only a blackened shell. Part of the floor had burned away; he could see where the flames had burned their way down the wall behind Sara's bed. It was a miracle she had survived, that she hadn't been burned even worse than she was.
He found several of the nuns gathered together in a small upstairs room, quietly discussing the fire, and the condition of one of the children who had been badly burned. He heard Sara's name mentioned several times.
And then Sister Mary Josepha entered the room.
"I spoke to Father Andre," she said. "He thinks I imagined the whole thing. But I didn't! I know what I saw." Tears welled in the old nun's eyes. "He took Sara Jayne," she said, her voice filled with despair. "That monster took her."
"Perhaps we should notify the police," one of the nuns suggested.
"What could they do against such evil?" Sister Mary Josepha shook her head. "They probably wouldn't believe me any more than the good father did."
"We must do something," another nun said.
"But what?" Sister Mary Josepha shook her head again. "I was powerless against him." She clutched the cross that dangled from a braided rope around her waist. "I've never felt such evil. Oh, my poor Sara, to be at that fiend's mercy."
An hour later, he entered the monastery. He freed Sara's mind from sleep as he locked the door behind him.
She was yawning when he entered the room.
Sara smiled at him uncertainly. "Where have you been?" she asked as he removed his cloak.
"I went to the orphanage," Gabriel replied, dropping his cloak on the foot of the bed. "How do you feel?"
"All right." She glanced away, afraid to ask questions, afraid of the answers.