nights later, frightened and confused, he had gone to Rosalia and told her everything. Looking back, he wondered why he had been so thoroughly unprepared for the stark expression of revulsion that rose in her eyes, for the terror that had sent her stumbling away from him. He could still hear her screams as she fell down the winding staircase to land with a sickening thud on the floor below. He had known even before he reached her side that she was dead. He had left Italy the next night.
He had thought it would be an easy thing, living by night and sleeping by day. He had assumed he would be able to walk among mortals, to dance and laugh and make love as before, but it was not to be. The hunger, new and untamed, roared to life whenever he allowed himself to mingle with humanity. In the beginning, unable to help himself, he had satisfied his thirst nightly, often at the expense of some poor mortal's life. Only after many decades had he learned to control his beastly appetite, to take a few drops instead of a life.
He had learned, to his dismay, that while he looked human, he was an outcast, a creature who would never again belong to the family of mankind.
He had learned, over the centuries, what true loneliness was...
And now he stood in the shadows of the cafe, watching Sara. Dressed in a gown of palest pink, she looked as fresh and natural as a wild rose. Her young man sat beside her, his hand holding hers, his gaze rapt upon her face, and who could blame him? She was a vision, an angel, fair of face and form, with a laugh as soft as a sigh, and a smile more radiant than the sun.
Envy rose within Gabriel, and his hands clenched into fists. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from crossing the room and breaking the young man's neck. One quick twist would do it. Just one.
Sara, my sweet Sara, why did I ever let you go?
She looked up then, her head turning in his direction, her gaze probing the shadows.
Had she heard his thoughts? Did she know he was there? But that was impossible.
And yet she was rising, walking away from the table. He stood in the shadowed corner, his body trembling as she drew near. He could feel her gaze searching the darkness. But for the terrible weakness that plagued him, he would have dissolved into mist and disappeared.
"Gabriel?"
"Go away."
"Gabriel! Is it you?"
"Don't come any closer, Sara."
She stopped, confused. "What's wrong?"
"Go away."
She licked her lips nervously, wishing she could see him more clearly, but he seemed one with the shadows. "I'll go," she said, "but only if you promise to come to me later."
"I cannot."
"I've missed you, Gabriel."
"Have you?"
"Yes." She took a step forward. "You're in pain, aren't you?"
"How do you know that?" he asked sharply.
"I felt it when it happened. I feel it now."
"Go, Sara, please go."
"You'll come to me later tonight?"
"Yes." The word was torn from his lips.
Two hours later, he knocked at the door of her apartment. Like a callow youth courting his first girl, he stood in the shadows, uncertain and a little afraid.
He heard Sara's voice telling someone named Babette she was dismissed for the night. A moment later, Sara opened the door, and he was overcome with a rush of wild emotion.
"Gabriel! I'm so glad to see you. Come in, come in."
"The lights," he said, hugging the shadows. "Put out the lights."
She frowned at him a moment, then went to do as bidden. Only then did he enter the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
For a moment, he stood there, guilt rising up to meet him. She had no idea what she had invited into her home.
"Gabriel?"
"How are you, Sara?"
"Fine. And you?" He heard the underlying note of concern in her voice. "Won't you sit down?"
With a nod, he sat down on the damask-covered settee.
"Can I take your cloak?" she asked.
He shook his head, retreating into the concealing folds of the hooded garment.
She stood in front of the sofa, her hands toying with the wide blue sash of her dress. "I'm glad you're here. I've missed you."
"You were wonderful tonight," he said.
She flushed with pleasure. "You were there, at the opera house?"
"Indeed. I've never seen anything more beautiful, cara. Truly, you were born to dance."
"I do love it so."
He took a deep breath, his hands clenching beneath the voluminous folds of