She woke to the sun in her face and a raging thirst. Alarmed, she sat up. "Gabriel?"
There was no answer, and for a moment sheer panic threatened to engulf her. "Gabriel? Gabriel!"
I'm here.
Relief flooded through her, sweeter than wine.
"Where are you?"
Below. Go back to sleep, Sarah.
"What happened? I feel so strange."
I'll explain later. Go to sleep now, he said again, his voice low and soothing. I'll come to you as soon as I can.
"No! I need you now. Please."
Come to me, then.
Jumping out of bed, she ran through the house, fairly flew down the cellar stairs. She hesitated, repelled by the thought of seeing Gabriel lying in that pine box, but the thought of being separated from him quickly overcame her reluctance.
And then, of its own accord, the cellar door opened.
"Gabriel?"
I'm here. Lock the door behind you.
She did as he asked, a cold chill slithering down her spine as she locked herself in the basement. She was reaching for the light switch when she heard his voice in her mind once again.
Leave it off.
"Why don't you talk to me?" she asked as she felt her way through the darkness toward his resting place.
It takes less effort to communicate with you like this.
She shivered as her hand came in contact with the side of the box. And then he was reaching for her, lifting her over the edge as if she weighed no more than a child, cuddling her against him, and all her fears melted away.
"Gabriel..."
Sleep, Sarah, he said, his voice heavy as he fought to stay awake. Sleep...
He drew the edge of his cloak around her, and then he sank back down into darkness, her head pillowed on his chest, his arm around her waist.
She should have been afraid, but she wasn't. She was asleep before she could wonder why.
When next she woke, it was to the sound of Gabriel's voice speaking her name. It was an effort to open her eyes. Feeling strangely disoriented, she blinked up at him and then, realizing where she was, she bolted upright, aghast to find herself sitting in what was, for all intents and purposes, a coffin.
"What am I doing here?" Shivering with revulsion, she started to scramble over the side.
"Relax, cara," Gabriel murmured as he gathered her into his arms.
Sarah clung to him, soothed by his presence, by the inimitable strength of the arms that held her.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice deep with concern.
She nodded, her gaze never leaving his face.
"You're sure?"
Sarah frowned at him. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"
Wordlessly, Gabriel carried her up the stairs into the kitchen, sat her in one of the antique ladder-back chairs she had bought on one of her shopping sprees.
Going to the refrigerator, he poured her a large glass of orange juice.
Handing her the glass, Gabriel sat down in the chair next to Sarah's, his gaze intent upon her face as she drank the juice.
"What do you remember about last night?" he asked.
"Last night?" Sarah shook her head. "I don't remember any..."
Gently, Gabriel pulled his hand from hers. Going to the window, he stared into the lowering darkness. It was going to storm again. He could hear the thunder in the distance, smell the rain. If he let his mind open fully, he could hear the conversation of the people in the next house, smell the exhaust of the cars on the street below.
"Gabriel?"
"You almost died last night," he replied quietly. "I couldn't let you go. I couldn't. Do you understand?"
"No." She stared at his back, wondering why he sounded so troubled, whyhewouldn't look at her.
"Forgive me," he said, his voice raw with self-reproach. "I couldn't hold you in my arms and watch you die again." His hands balled into tight fists. "I gave you my blood, Sarah. That's why you can hear my thoughts inside your head so clearly. It's why you're feeling so strange, why you're afraid to let me out of your sight."
Slowly, he turned around to face her. "You are a part of me now, bonded to me by the blood we share."
Will you be my slave or my equal? His words, spoken weeks ago, echoed in her mind.
She remembered the night she had given him her blood. Am I your slave now? she had asked, and when he had assured her that she wasn't, she had blithely replied that she wouldn't mind being his slave. Now that it seemed to be a fact, she wondered if that was still true.
"What does it mean, exactly?" she asked. "Being bonded? How long will it last?"
"It will last as long as you live," Gabriel replied. "No matter where you go, or what you do, I'll be able to find you."
"And will I be able to find you?"
"Yes, always," he promised, though he knew that, should he desire, he could shut her out of his mind, but that was something he would never do.
"Can you make me do things I don't want to do?"
He thought of vampires he had known, male and female alike, who had initiated mortals, then used them to do their bidding. In the old days, mortal slaves had often hunted prey for their vampire masters.
"I could," Gabriel admitted, "but I won't."
"Will I always feel so desolate when we're apart?"
"I don't know. I've never initiated anyone before."
"Initiated. Is that what this bonding is called?"
Gabriel nodded as he watched the emotions play across her face: doubt, fear, anxiety, resentment.
Had he done the right thing? Or did she hate him for it? She might have preferred death to being subject to his power, and yet he could not let her die, not when he had the ability to save her.
Sarah released a long, shuddering breath. "Why didn't you just make me what you are?"
"I wanted to, but I found I couldn't make that decision for you, cara. I couldn't bring you over against your will."
"I wish you had."
"There's still time. You're young and healthy. Perhaps, in a few years, you'll decide to be as I am. If not, then I will follow you from life into death."
"I've already made my decision," Sarah replied, smiling tremulously up at him. "I think I made it the first time I looked into your eyes."
He knelt before her, his deep gray eyes dark with desire, his hair as black as the night, reminding her of a medieval warrior rendering homage to his lady.
"I'll do whatever you wish, cara," Gabriel said, his voice soft and low. "Only tell me what you want."
Only tell me what you want. And she knew, in that moment, that she wanted to be with Gabriel, like Gabriel. She didn't want to live each day knowing they could never truly be one, didn't want to watch the years pass by, knowing that he stood on one side of the vast gulf of mortality that yawned between them, while she stood on the other.
The thought of being what he was, repugnant to her only days before, now seemed far less frightening than the thought of being parted from him again.
"I want to be yours, now and forever," she whispered. "Iwant to share the night with you, and spend the day resting in your arms."
His gaze moved over her face, his eyes warm with love. A faint smile played over his lips.
"I can arrange that," he murmured, and slanting his mouth over hers, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.
And there, sheltered in Gabriel's arms, strengthened by a bond of love that would last forever, Sara Jayne found the courage to take the first step in an endless journey of discovery.
AMANDA ASHLEY
Amanda Ashley is the dark side of Madeline Baker. She emerged when I was on the edge of historical "burnout" and felt an overwhelming urge to write about something besides the Old West.
It was about this time that I read my first vampire book. I had always been fascinated with vampires, and I decided to try my hand at writing something with a little bite to it. My first attempt was a short story titled "Masquerade," which is now part of Love Spell's After Twilightanthology. That short story carried me into the dark side, and I've been writing vampire romances ever since.
