away. Her magic was only for good, for finding that which was lost, for healing, for hope.
She had been alone the night he came to her, a tall, dark man with piercing gray eyes.A man who was not a man at all. She had known that the moment her eyes met his, known that, whoever he was, he possessed an otherworldly power far beyond her own.
Frightened of that which she did not understand, she had sent him away, and he had left without protest, only to return again the next night, and the next. Each night he brought her a gift: a bouquet of wildflowers, a cat carved of jade, a ruby necklace,a seashell.
Gradually, her curiosity overcame her fears and she invited him into her home, only to listen with growing disbelief to the tale he told her. She had heard of vampires, of course, but never believed such creatures existed. And then he told her another tale, of a man who loved a woman so much that he followed her through time. He told her stories of past lives and as he related each one, she knew deep in her soul that he spoke the truth.
And she loved him again. He begged her to join him, to accept the Dark Gift so that they might be together forever, never more to be parted. At first, the thought was repugnant, but as time passed, she began to relent.
"On All Hallows Eve," she said, "on that night, I will become as you are."
With a glad cry, he swept her into his arms. "At last, my best beloved one," he had shouted exultantly. "At last you will be mine!"
But it was not to be. Unbeknownst to her, people from the town had been spying on her. They had seen Dominic, for that was his name, coming to her in the dark hours of the night. Foolish, superstitious folk, they believed him to be the devil, believed that she was in league with him. Just after midday on All Hallows Eve, they came for her, to accuse her. In spite of her protests, in spite of those who spoke in her behalf, saying that her magic had only been used for good, they had declared her guilty of witchcraft and sentenced her to hang as the sun went down.
And once again she had died in his arms. She had not died instantly when they slapped the horse out from under her. She was still fighting for breath when he came for her. She heard his wild cry of rage and disbelief the terrified screams and shouts of the townsfolk as he sent them scattering like sheep from a wolf.
But he was too late.Too late. Gazing up into his tormented gray eyes, she whispered his name with her last breath...
Tracywoke with a cry. Once again, his face had been the last thing she had seen. Was she fated to die in his arms in this life, as well?
And that was the first thing she said to him when he appeared at sundown.
"Will I die in your arms again?"
"I believe you are fated to do so," he replied, his voice calm and unruffled, as if she asked him such odd questions every night. "Until..."
"Until what?"It was a foolish question. She already knew the answer.
His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips."Until you accept your destiny."
The touch of his gaze was like a physical caress, reminding her of the kiss they had shared the night before.
Rising, she took a step toward him only to find that he was moving toward her as well. There was no need for words, neither question nor answer. He wrapped his arms around her. She rose on her tiptoes and their lips fused, drawn together like a honeybee to a flower, like a moth to the brightest flame.
He deepened the kiss, and she felt his longing, his hunger,his need, not just for the relief of his physical desire but to ease his hunger. It was a huge and painful thing, one he had learned to control but could neverconquer, a thirst he could satisfy but never fully quench.
She moaned softly, aching for his need, hating herself because she could not give him that which he most desired.
His eyes were blazing with vampire fire when he broke the kiss and drew back. "Do not blame yourself, my best beloved one," he said, his voice husky, and then, as he had the night before, he vanished from her sight.
Tears stung her