badly hurt," Gabriel said, answering the unspoken question in Sara's eyes. "One child was badly burned. One died."
"Who?"
"I didn't ask her name."
Sara closed her eyes, murmuring a silent prayer for the child's soul, giving thanks that no other lives had been lost.
"Sara?"
She looked up at him through eyes shiny with unshed tears, grateful that the nuns who had cared for her had been spared.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded, blinking back her tears. "Does Sister Mary Josepha know where I am?"
Gabriel shook his head. "No, I didn't have a chance to speak to her. I learned of the fire from someone else. No one seems to know how it started."
"Do you think I could send her a message and let her know I'm all right?"
"If you wish."
"You never told me why you brought me here."
"Does it matter?"
She blinked up at him, confused by the peculiar light in his eyes, by the sudden warmth that suffused her. Of course it didn't matter, she thought; she'd rather be here, with him, than anywhere else.
"No, but..." She plucked nervously at the bed-clothes. "I can't believe I slept the whole day."
"You needed the rest."
She made a soft sound of assent. "And now I need to... you know."
With a nod, he carried her into the monk's cell, waiting in the corridor while she relieved herself. It would be so easy, he thought, so easy to mold her mind to his way of thinking, to make her long to stay with him always. He could arrange it so she would be content to sleep days so that she might spend her nights with him. What bliss, to keep her by his side, to watch her blossom into womanhood, to be the one to teach her of the ways between a man and a woman. It would all be so easy, but so wicked, because he wasn't a man at all...
A startled cry drew him quickly to her side.
"What is it?" he asked, glancing around.
"My legs, they feel so strange."
Gabriel frowned. "Strange?"
"They tingle, like someone is poking me with pins and feathers."
Dropping to his knees, he lifted her gown and ran a hand along her right calf.
"That tickles! Gabriel, I've never had any feeling in my legs before. What's happening?"
He rocked back on his heels, then shook his head. "I'm not sure."
Frowning, he carried her back to his chamber. Was it possible that the power of his blood had healed her infirmity? There was, he thought, but one way to tell.
Gently, he stood her before him, her feet touching the ground. "I'm going to let you go, Sara."
"No!" she clasped his shoulders.
"Only for a moment. Trust me." He relented a little when he saw the fear in her eyes. "Here, hold my hand."
She stared at him, her eyes wide with apprehension, as he took her hand in his, and then let his other hand fall away from her waist. She swayed unsteadily, but didn't fall.
"Gabriel," she breathed. "I'm standing."
He took a step back, his hand still holding hers. "Come to me, Sara."
She shook her head, afraid to move for fear of falling.
His gaze held hers, dark and mesmerizing. "Come to me, Sara. Don't be afraid. I won't let you fall."
"I can't." But even as she spoke the words, she was moving, sliding her left foot forward, shifting her weight, sliding her right foot up. One step. Two, and then she stumbled and fell into his arms.
He lifted her easily, holding her close to his chest.
"I walked!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. "Gabriel, I walked."
He smiled down at her, his heart pounding with joy. His blood, his demon blood, had saved Sara's life, and now it seemed it had returned the strength to her legs. Even if his soul spent eternity in hell, he would ever be grateful for the Dark Gift that had brought such happiness to Sara's eyes.
"Put me down," she said, wriggling in his arms. "Put me down. I want to walk!"
And she did walk. With his help at first, and then, slowly, haltingly, she walked from one end of the room to the other on her own.
"Perhaps you should rest now," Gabriel suggested.
Sara shook her head. She could feel strength flowing through her, feel her legs growing stronger with each passing moment. "It's a miracle!" she said fervently. "Nothing less than a miracle."
A miracle, indeed, Gabriel mused. A little of his accursed blood had the power to restore her strength, but even as he watched her, he couldn't help but wonder if she