He held Sara in his arms while she slept, one hand lightly stroking her hair. Time and again, he had tried to warn her away, but no more. From this night forward, she would be his. He would watch over her, protect her. He would destroy her enemies, destroy himself rather than allow anyone to harm her.

In the hour before dawn, he made love to her again, and then, too soon, the sun was climbing over the horizon. He gazed at her for a few more minutes, reluctant to leave her, knowing he must.

"Have you a basement?" he asked.

Sara frowned at his odd question. "No."

"An attic, perhaps?"

"There's a small crawl space in the ceiling above my closet. Why?"

"I can't expect you to abandon your bed every day at dawn."

"I could stay here, with you."

"No."

"Please, Gabriel. I hate having to leave you after we've made love. It makes me feel like a... a..."

His eyes darkened. "Like what, Sara? A puttana?"

"Yes, if you must know! I want to go to sleep in your arms."

"You won't like waking up next to a corpse."

"You're not a corpse!"

"That's exactly what I am," he said with a weary shake of his head. "You still don't understand, do you? I'm not alive. I haven't been alive for over three hundred years."

"Stop it!" She pressed her hands over her ears, refusing to listen. She knew what he was. How could she not? But why did he have to dwell on it? Why wouldn't he let her forget?

Gabriel took a deep breath, his hands clenched at his sides as he fought down his anger, his frustration.

"I'm sorry, Sara," he said quietly. "Forgive me."

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "I only want to be with you."

"I know. Don't you think I want it, too?" His gaze met hers and she saw the anguish in his eyes. "Don't you think I'd love to fall asleep beside you, to have your face be the first thing I see when I awake?"

"We could go away," she said. "I could sleep during the day and spend my nights with you."

"Is that what you want, to give up dancing, to give up all you've worked for, to be with me?"

"Yes."

It was tempting. For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to have Sara there beside him, to fall asleep in her arms, to reach for her when he awoke.

But he had to give her a chance to think it through, to fully understand what kind of life she would have if she chose to stay with him.

"You're a young woman, Sara. You have your whole life ahead of you. Think of what you'd be giving up. You'll never have a normal life if you decide to stay with me."

He ran his fingertips over her cheek, loving the warmth of her skin, wishing, as he had wished so many times before, that he was a mortal man again, that he could live with her and love her as he yearned to do.

He looked deep into her eyes. "Once you are truly mine, I will never let you go."

The possessiveness in his gaze, the intensity in voice, gave her a moment's pause. He was telling her, warning her, that if she decided to stay with him, her decision, once made, would be irrevocable.

He saw the sudden apprehension rise in her eyes, knew the very moment when she remembered that he was no ordinary man, that she wouldn't be able to decide she'd made a mistake and walk away.

"We'll talk more about it later," he said.

Sara nodded. Reaching for her robe, she slid out of bed and began gathering the clothes she'd need for the day. As an afterthought, she took the little silver cross from her jewelry box.

"Till tonight," she said, kissing his cheek.

"Tonight."

For Sara, the daylight hours passed slowly. She had little to occupy her time since she dared not go outside alone. After eating breakfast and washing her few dishes, she wandered through the apartment, finally settling down on the sofa with a book. But she couldn't concentrate. She kept hearing Gabriel's words in her mind: Once you are truly mine, I'll never let you go.

Wasn't that what she wanted, to be his forever?

She sat there for hours, her mind replaying every moment they had spent together, weighing her love for him, her need to be with him, against her desire to continue dancing, to have a home and a family.

You'll never have a normal life if you stay with me, he'd said. But did she want a normal life if she couldn't share it with Gabriel?

How could she live with him, knowing what he did to survive? How could she live without him?

How would she feel as the years passed by and she grew old, older, while he stayed forever young? Would she hate him then? Would he turn away from her when she was no longer young and pretty?

She could become what he was...

She glanced at the bedroom door, and after a long moment of indecision, she did what she had been longing to do, what she had promised not to do.

One hand clasping the cross she had slipped over her head when she left the room earlier, she opened the bedroom door a crack and peered inside.

Gabriel had dressed and now lay upon his cloak, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes closed. His skin looked more pale than usual. She stared at him for a long moment, but he didn't appear to be breathing. He looked, she thought morbidly, like a corpse laid out for burial.

I'm not alive, he'd said, and for the first time she believed him.

A sound behind her made her start, and she whirled around to find Maurice standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Maurice glanced at Gabriel, then shook his head. "I knew it," he murmured. "I knew he had come back. There was no other explanation for the way you've been acting these past few days."

Sara crossed the floor toward the door, but Maurice held his ground.

"Now do you believe me?" he said, nodding in Gabriel's direction. "The man's a vampire, Sara Jayne. He must be destroyed."

"No!"

She tried to close the door, but Maurice grabbed her by the arm and half dragged, half carried her into the room Babette had used. Taking the key from the lock, he shoved Sara inside and locked the door.

"Maurice!" Sara pounded on the door with her fists. "Maurice, let me out!"

"No, Sara Jayne. He must be destroyed, now, while he's helpless."

"Maurice!" She screamed his name. "Don't!"

Ignoring her cries, Maurice went outside and retrieved the sack he'd left on the steps.

Reentering the house, he opened the sack, his hand clutching the cross he wore while he gazed at the contents, quietly praying for the courage to do what had to be done. And then, heaving a determined sigh, he withdrew a sharp wooden stake and a hammer from the sack and went into Sara's bedroom.

Gabriel lay as before.

Unmoving.

Undead.

Fear rose up in Maurice as he gazed at the man on the bed. Not a man, he reminded himself, a monster, a fiend who lived off the blood of others, a demon who must be destroyed before he turned Sara Jayne into what he was.

It was the thought of Sara that gave Maurice the courage to lift the stake. He could hear Sara Jayne pounding on the door, screaming for him to stop, as he positioned the sharpened end of the hawthorn stake over Gabriel's heart.

Holding his breath, he raised the hammer, his gorge rising at the mere idea of what he was about to do.

He was bringing the hammer down when Gabriel's hand closed around his forearm.

The hammer fell from a hand gone suddenly numb as Maurice stared down into the face of death. Gabriel's eyes blazed with an unholy fire; his lips were drawn back in a feral snarl, revealing sharp white fangs.

With his free hand, Gabriel tore the cross from the chain dangling down Maurice's chest. The silver burned his palm as he threw the crucifix across the room.

"Did you think to kill me so easily?" Gabriel asked as he tossed the stake after the crucifix.

Maurice couldn't speak. Cold sweat beaded his brow and trickled down his back as he stared at the monster lying on the bed.

Sara's voice, crying, pleading, filled the silence.

"What have you done to her?" Gabriel asked, his voice low and silky and dangerous.

Maurice opened his mouth, but no words came out, and he shook his head vigorously, his whole body trembling. He winced as Gabriel tightened his hold on his arm.

"Fool," Gabriel said. "Did you truly think a puny mortal like yourself could destroy me? I've survived for over three hundred and fifty years, little man."

"But..." The word squeaked past Maurice's lips.

"You thought to find me helpless," Gabriel mused. "You should not have put your faith in those silly stories about vampires. Only the very young ones are totally helpless during the hours of daylight." A wry grin twisted Gabriel's lips. "As you are helpless."

"Please..."

Gabriel arched one brow. "You don't wish to die?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

Maurice licked lips gone dry. Gabriel was toying with him as a cat might play with a mouse before the kill. He tried to look away from those horrible blood-red eyes, but he couldn't move.

Drawing Maurice closer, Gabriel reached up with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around Maurice's throat. He could feel the blood rushing through the man's veins, smell the overpowering scent of fear that rose from every pore. He had not fed in several days...

"Have you ever thought of being dinner?" he asked mildly.

Maurice shook his head, his stomach churning at the thought of Gabriel feeding on his blood.

Gabriel grunted softly. "Have you ever thought of being a vampire? I could arrange it, you know."

"No!"

"Careful, little man," Gabriel warned. "You're in no position to offend me."

Maurice glared at him, his eyes filled with fear and defiance. "Go ahead, kill me, you bastard, but do it and get it over with."

Gabriel regarded Delacroix for a long while, faintly amused by the man's unexpected show of courage.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said, loosening his hold on Maurice's throat.

Horror darkened Maurice's eyes. "You don't mean to turn me into what you are?" He shook his head. "I would rather be dead."

"Listen to me, Delacroix, listen very carefully. Sara's life is in danger." He saw the accusation in Maurice's eyes. "Not from me, but from another vampire. A very old, very vindictive vampire."

"I don't understand."

"There's no reason you should. Suffice it to say that I'm afraid of her..."

"Her?"

Gabriel nodded.

"And you're afraid of her?" Maurice asked incredulously, unable to believe that Gabriel was afraid of anything, living or dead.

"The female of the species is always more dangerous, more deadly. Nina is vexed with me, and she intends to get even with me by hurting Sara. I can't protect Sara from Nina during the day."

"What can I do against a vampire?"

"Nina is no threat during the day. But she's been known to hypnotize others to do her bidding. And that, my friend, is where you come in. I'm letting you live so you can protect Sara while I rest."

"I understand." Maurice swallowed hard. "And when the threat to Sara is past, what then? Will you kill me for what I tried to do today?"

"Only if you try it again."

"And what of Sara?"

"What about her?"

"You aren't... you wouldn't..."

"Make her what I am? No, I would never do that." With a sigh, Gabriel released his hold on Maurice's arm. "Get out. And take your cross with you. You might have need of it."

With a nod, Maurice scooped up the crucifix and fled the room. Closing the door behind him, he slid to the ground, the heavy silver cross clutched tightly in his hands. Never, he thought, never had he been so afraid. So close to death. Or worse.

Gradually, he became aware of Sara's cries. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked on unsteady legs to the bedroom and unlocked the door.

Sara studied Maurice's face, her heart heavy in her breast. "Did you?"

"No."

"Oh, thank God," Sara murmured.

She started to step past Maurice when he caught her arm. "I thought he was going to kill me."

Sara's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"He woke up when I put the stake to his heart." Maurice shivered with the memory. "I've never seen anything so awful as the look in his eyes."

Sara nodded. She, too, had seen that look. It had chilled her to the depths of her soul.

"He could have killed me," Maurice said, "but he let me live because of you."

Taking her hand, Maurice led her into the parlor and sank down on the sofa. "He told me about Nina, said I was to protect you during the day." Maurice paused, willing his hands to stop trembling, but he couldn't shake off the fear that had gripped him. "What are we going to do, Sara Jayne?"

"I don't know."

Maurice glanced around the room, at the garlic hanging from the windows and over the door. "Do you really think that will keep her out?"

"It kept Gabriel inside the cottage."

"Yes, but from what he says, Nina is stronger than he is. What if she's immune to something as mundane as garlic?"

"I sprinkled the windowsills with holy water, too. I don't care how strong she is, I don't think she can cross that."

"And if she can?"

"I don't know!" Sara jumped to her feet and began to pace the floor. "I'm just as frightened as you are."

Her words were like a slap in the face. Squaring his shoulders, Maurice stood up and gathered Sara into his arms.

"I'll protect you with my life, Sara Jayne," he said quietly. "I swear it on the life of my mother."