her from the shadows. "Vampire. That is what I am."
She shook her head. Vampires were creatures of fantasy and illusion, like Santa Claus. "I don't believe it."
"It's true nonetheless. Go now."
"You need blood."
He made a harsh sound that hovered somewhere between laughter and despair. "I thought you didn't believe."
"If you need blood, take mine." Were those her words? Sara wondered, unable to draw her gaze from his bowed head. Was that her voice, calmly urging him to take her blood?
"No!"
"Will it help you?"
She took his silence for assent. "Then take it, my angel. Take as much as you need."
"No!" He screamed the word, but, ah, the mere thought of it, to taste the very essence of her life... "No, I won't. I can't. Please, go away."
Relief washed through him as he heard her footsteps cross the floor and climb the stairs. She was leaving. Had he the right, he would have given thanks to the Almighty.
A moment later, his head jerked up and a feral growl rumbled in his throat as the scent of blood, tantalizing and sweetly fresh, reached his nostrils.
He whirled around to find Sara standing before him, her left arm extended. His gaze was instantly drawn to the small pool of blood welling from the shallow cut she had inflicted in her wrist.
Blood. Warm. Fresh. The essence of life. An end to the horrible agony knifing through him, a pain that grew ever worse now that the promise of relief was near.
Sara's blood.
Hands clenched at his sides, he shook his head. "No," he gasped. "Sara... no."
He shook his head as she walked toward him, helpless to resist when she pressed her bleeding flesh to his lips.
With a low cry of despair, his mouth locked on her arm, tasting her sweetness, feeling the life-giving fluid flow through him, easing the awful hunger that plagued him like the fires of hell.
Time lost all meaning as he gave himself over to the pleasure of satisfying a craving over which he no longer had control.
Sara... the essence of life, of light...
Sara!
He released her immediately, his heart pounding with fear as he gazedinto her eyes. Had he taken too much?
" Cara mia, how do you feel?"
She blinked up at him. "I don't know. A little faint." Her gaze moved over his face, amazed to see that he already looked better. The deadly pallor was fading. "Do you need more? Is it enough?"
Was that her voice, sounding so calm as she asked him if he had taken enough of her blood? Had she finally gone mad? She should have been repulsed by what had just happened, sickened to think that he needed blood to survive, horrified that she had given him hers. But she wasn't repulsed or sickened or horrified. She was, in fact, sorry he hadn't taken more.
Had she imagined it, or had she actually felt a sense of pleasure that bordered on ecstasy when his mouth closed over her wrist? It was very strange, she thought. Very strange indeed.
"Sara." There was a wealth of misery in his voice as he ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt tail and wrapped it around the gash in her wrist, then turned away.
He could not face her. He felt naked and ashamed. She had seen him at his worst. Stripped of his dignity, of the thin mask of humanity, she had seen him for the monster he truly was, something no other mortal had ever witnessed and survived.
"Gabriel?"
"I'll be all right."
"You're sure? Perhaps you should..."
"I'm sure! Sara, please go now."
"No, I don't want to leave you."
He didn't think he'd taken enough blood to initiate her, but what if he had indeed taken too much? He didn't want to enslave her in that way, didn't want to strip her of her free will so that she would be forever bound to him, afraid to be without him. He didn't want to own her body and soul; he wanted her love, freely given.
Hands balled into tight fists, he turned to face her. "Please go," he said gently. "I need to be alone."
She didn't want to leave him. Didn't want to ever be away from him again, but the quiet pleading in his voice convinced her to go. "Very well. If that's what you want."
He felt a momentary surge of relief. If she was willing to leave him, even for a short time, all would be well.
She placed her hand on his arm, felt him tremble at her touch. "I'll be back later."