Embrace the Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

sides of the oak casket. "Demon. Ghoul. Fiend. You will not touch her, you misbegotten spawn of the devil," he declared, his voice growing thick as the heavy sleep of the undead dragged him down, down, into the deep abyss of oblivion.
    "You… will… not…"
     
    He woke the following evening, a moment of panic rising within him as he opened his eyes to eternal darkness. And then he remembered where he was.
    Muttering an oath, he climbed out of the coffin. He had not used it in more years than he could remember, preferring to take his rest in the big throne-like chair upstairs.
    He stared at the burnished oak for a long time, reminding himself of what he was. Not a man, but a monster, fit for nothing but death and darkness.
    His steps were heavy as he climbed the stairs. Deep in thought, he changed his clothes, combed his hair, donned his cloak.
    As if to further punish himself for wanting what could never be his, he went out into the shadows, a bloodthirsty beast stalking its prey.
    This is what you are
. The words echoed and reechoed in his head as he bent over his hapless victim.
Don't let her sweetness fool you into thinking you're still a man, capable of loving, of being loved. You're naught but a monster, every man's nightmare
…
    A short time later, he was walking toward the orphanage. And all the while, he tried to convince himself to stay away from her. His Sara, his angel of light, should not be contaminated by the darkness of his soul.
    He was still trying to talk himself into staying away as he vaulted the orphanage's high stone wall.
    She was waiting for him. He had expected to find her tucked into bed, but she was sitting in her chair, facing the veranda doors. Her goodness, her sweetness, reached out to him, washing over him like sunlight.
    "A new dress," he remarked as he crossed the threshold.
    She nodded shyly. "I made it."
    "It's lovely," he murmured. And, indeed, it was. The deep blue darkened her eyes, the full sleeves reminded him of angel's wings. "You are lovely."
    His words brought a flush to her cheeks. "Thank you."
    "So lovely." He held out his hand. "Would you go out with me,
coral"
    "Out?" She looked puzzled. "Out where?"
    "Wherever you like."
    "I couldn't… shouldn't… anywhere I wish?"
    "Anywhere."
    "The ballet?"
    "If you wish."
    She smiled, radiant with happiness. For as long as she could remember, she had longed to go to the ballet, to see
Swan Lake, Giselle, The Sleeping Beauty, Don Quixote
. She had studied the lives of many of the great ballerinas, like Marie Taglioni, Fanny Elssler, Carlotta Grisi, Francesca Cerrito, and Marie Salle.
    And now her dream was about to come true. Then she glanced down at her dress, and her happiness dissipated like dew beneath the sun.
    "I can't go. I don't have anything suitable to wear."
    "You will," he said cryptically, and before she could ask questions, he was gone.
    "Gabriel!" Shoulders sagging, she stared into the darkness, wondering if he was gone for the night.
    An hour later, he was back. "For you," he said, and with a flourish, he reached inside his cloak and withdrew a gown of ice-blue satin.
    Sara glanced at the dress, at Gabriel, and back at the dress, unable to believe her eyes. "For me?"
    "You don't like it?"
    Not like it? It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She looked up at him, too dazed to speak.
    "Can you… shall I…" He swore softly. "Will you let me help you change?"
    She felt her cheeks flame as she nodded. Deftly, he helped her out of her dress and into the gown, lacing her up with such casual nonchalance that it eased her embarrassment. The satin was smooth and cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of his touch.
    There were slippers and gloves to match. He pulled them from beneath his cloak, making her wonder if he was conjuring them from thin air.
    She felt like the princess in a fairy tale. "How do I look?"
    "See for yourself," he said, and lifting the mirror from the wall, he held it in front of