She'd treated every room but the bedroom where Gabriel slept when there was a knock at the door.
"Who's there?" she called, images of a female vampire with bloody fangs jumping to the forefront of her mind even though it was still daylight.
"It's Maurice. Sara Jayne, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I'll see you at the theater tonight."
"Are you sure you're all right?" Maurice asked. "Can I get you anything?"
"I'm fine, really."
"Sara Jayne, please let me come in."
"Not now, Maurice. I'm taking a nap. I'll see you tonight."
"Very well, cheri," he agreed with obvious reluctance. " Au revoir."
Sara pressed her forehead against the door. She wouldn't be able to keep Maurice at bay for long. They were supposed to be engaged, after all. He wouldn't be pleased to learn that Gabriel had come back into her life. Somehow, she'd have to find the words to tell him that she was breaking their engagement. He wouldn't like that, either, but she knew now that she could never marry Maurice, or any other man. Her heart and soul belonged to Gabriel, now and always.
Gabriel.
A vampire.
It was still hard to believe, to accept. In spite of all she had seen, all he had said, it still seemed like a nightmare, too hideous to be true...
She felt suddenly cold all over as she recalled the nightmares that had plagued her here in Paris not so long ago.
They hadn't been nightmares at all, she thought, recalling the horrible images that had invaded her sleep, the visions of a fiend with hideous fangs and blood-red eyes. They'd been a premonition of things to come. She knew that now, because Gabriel was the demon in her dreams.
Heavy-hearted, she went into the parlor and sank down on the sofa. What was she going to do about Gabriel? About Maurice? About Nina?
She stared at the strings of garlic around the windows, praying they would keep Nina's evil at bay.
And what about Gabriel? If Nina was evil, what did that make Gabriel?
He survived by feeding on the life's blood of others. She could visualize him lurking in the shadows of the night, waiting to prey on the unwary, his fangs penetrating living flesh.
It was too horrible to contemplate, too awful to envision, and yet it was true.
Feeling suddenly chilled to the depths of her soul, she huddled in a corner of the sofa, shivering uncontrollably.
"Oh, Gabriel," she murmured, "what are we going to do?"
Come to me.
His voice, deep, resonant, was calling her.
Like a sleepwalker, she rose to do his bidding.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the latch, and then she was inside the room.
Gabriel's cloak lay like a splash of black paint against the snowy counterpane.
"Sara..."
He held out his hand, and she went to him, her heart beating wildly as she placed her hand in his. Images of fangs and blood-red eyes flitted down the corridor of her mind.
Gabriel dropped her hand and looked away. "The cross," he said, his voice harsh. "Take it off."
She slipped the delicate silver chain over her head, her mind whirling with images of Gabriel as he had looked that day in the cellar of the cottage, his eyes burning, his flesh taut, pale.
With an effort, she shook the ghastly images away. Turning away from the bed, she dropped the crucifix into her jewelry box and closed the lid.
He met her gaze then and she saw the hurt lurking in the depths of his eyes. Such changeable eyes, she thought, sometimes dark with passion, sometimes filled with an eternity of loneliness, sometimes blazing with an unholy light...
"You're afraid of me." It was a bold statement of fact, not a question.
"Yes." She looked at him curiously. "Why aren't you... how can you..."
"Be awake?"
Sara nodded. "I thought you slept during the day."
"It's nearly dusk," he explained. In another hour or so, his full strength would return.
"I didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's all right, Sara. I could feel your distress, your confusion. I had hoped to put your mind at ease, but it seems I've only frightened you more."
She didn't deny it, and the knowledge that she was truly afraid of him sliced through him like a knife.
"I'm sorry, Sara Jayne," he said gruffly. "I never meant to draw you into my life."
She stared at him, mute, unable to find the words to express what she was feeling and thinking. He had given her so much. For her dancing alone, she owed him a debt she could never repay, but now... willing or not, she