Christine Feehan: Dark Legend (Dark Series - Book 8)

Gabriel got slowly to his feet. He didn’t have the strength to get away from this young woman, from the warmth and compassion in her voice, from the life bursting in her veins. He bowed his head as he stepped through the doorway into her home. He prayed for strength. He prayed for forgiveness. He prayed for a miracle.

Francesca guided him through the large rooms to the kitchen, where she seated him at an intricately carved dining table. “There’s a small bathroom off to your right. The towels are clean if you want to take a shower. You’re welcome to use it while I’m heating food.”

Gabriel sighed and shook his head. He rose slowly and moved across the floor to stand over her. Close. So close he smelled her faint enticing fragrance through the haze of his raw hunger. “I am sorry.” He whispered the words softly, meaning them. “I must feed, but that is not what I need.” Very gently he took the bowl from her hands and set it on the counter.

For the first time Francesca sensed she was in danger. She stood very still, her large black eyes studying his cloaked figure. Then she nodded. “I see.” There was no fear in her voice, only a quiet acceptance. “Come with me. I have something to show you. You’ll need it later.” She took his hand, ignoring his long, sharp nails.

Gabriel was not using compulsion on her. He was not using any mind merge at all to calm her. She knew she was in deadly peril; he saw the knowledge reflected in her eyes. Her hand closed over his and she tugged. “Come with me. I can help you.” She was almost tranquil, radiating a peace that enfolded him.

He followed her because every physical contact with her eased his suffering. He couldn’t bear to think of what he was going to do to her. Inside he felt like weeping. A heavy stone seemed to be crushing his chest. Francesca opened a door on the left side of the kitchen to reveal a narrow stairway. At her urging he followed her down the stairs.

“This is the basement,” she told him, “but over here, just above this little outcropping, is another door. You can’t see it, but if you place your fingertips exactly here...” She demonstrated and the rock swung inward toward a dark cavern. She waved at the interior. “This leads beneath the earth. You’ll find it to your liking.”

Gabriel inhaled the sweet welcoming scent of the earth’s richness beckoning to him. The coolness, the darkness reached out to him with the promise of peace.

Francesca swept her heavy hair from her neck and looked up at him with wide, gentle eyes. “I feel the fear in you. I know what you need. I am a healer and I can do no other than offer one such as you solace. I offer freely, without reservation, I offer my life for yours as is my right.” The words were soft and gentle, so beautiful like the whisper of velvet over his skin.

The actual words barely registered. Only the sound. The seduction. The enticement. Her neck was warm satin beneath his stroking fingers. Gabriel closed his eyes and savored the exquisite feel of her. Where he had feared he would rend and tear, he found the need to cradle her body close to his gently, almost tenderly. He bent his head to feel her skin beneath his lips. Heat and fire. His tongue stroked across her pulse and his body tightened in anticipation. His arms drew her into the shelter of his body, his heart. He murmured his apology and took her offering, his teeth sinking deep into the vein of her slender neck.

At once the rush hit him like a fireball, spreading through his starving shrunken cells. Power and strength blossomed within him. He felt it then. White heat. Blue lightning. His body tightened. She felt like hot silk in his arms, as if she fit perfectly into his body. He became aware of how soft her skin was. The taste of her was addictive. She had saved him with her generosity. She had successfully prevented the demon from rising. Her blood was freely given.

Freely given. A

new realization penetrated his feeding frenzy. He could

feel.

Guilt. He recalled the weight in his chest as he’d followed her down the basement stairs. He had been feeling since the moment he’d chanced upon her. His body was a hard, urgent ache as he fed. Sensual. Erotic. Feeding had never been in any way connected to sex. He should have been incapable of sexual feelings, yet now his body was one hard, unrelenting, urgent ache.

Beneath his hand her heart stuttered and Gabriel immediately swept his tongue across the pinpricks at her throat to close the wound with his healing saliva. He had drained most of the blood from her slender body. He had to act fast. He tore a wound in his wrist and pressed it over her mouth. He was strong enough to take control of her mind. She was fading away, her life force simply waning. Francesca was making no attempt to fight; rather she seemed to be quite calm and accepting, almost as if she embraced death. Gabriel forced the blood back into her. She had known the ritual words to keep the demon leashed. She had freely offered her life for his. What had she said?

As is my right.

How could it be?

Gabriel looked down at her face. She was very pale; her long lashes were thick and luxurious, a deep black to match the long silk of her hair. Her slender body was encased in men’s pants, a light blue. Colors. He was seeing in color. He had not seen anything other than grays and blacks since he was a mere fledging over two thousand years before. Why hadn’t he recognized her as his lifemate? Was he so far gone after all?

He stopped her from taking too much blood from him. He would need to hunt this night; he must be sure he took enough for both of them. He carried her into the cavern, and following her scent, he found the dark chamber that would be safe from humans and the undead alike. He laid her gently in the bed of soil and sent her to sleep, reinforcing the command with a hard “push” to ensure she would not awaken until he could give her more blood. Her heart and lungs were slow and steady, enabling her body to make do with the small amount of blood flowing through her veins and arteries, the chambers of her heart.

Gabriel glided through the house, expending as little energy as possible. He would have been more than happy to take Brice’s blood. But Gabriel didn’t have the time to indulge his whims; he had to find his prey quickly and get back to his savior. She had saved more than his life with her generosity. She had saved his soul.

Another moment and he was out of the house, into the darkness. His world. He had lived in it for centuries, yet it was all new. All different. Everything would be different now. He found prey immediately. The city was teaming with people. He picked three large men, making certain none of them were using alcohol or drugs and that the blood in their veins was not contaminated with any diseases. Gabriel easily led them into the shelter of a doorway and bent his head to drink his fill. He took enough to bring himself to full strength without endangering any one of them. When the first swayed with dizziness, Gabriel carefully closed the pinpricks and helped him to sit on the ground. He fed from the second and third almost greedily, his body craving the nourishment after so long without. He needed enough blood for Francesca to ensure her continued survival.

The moment he was finished he erased their memories and left the three of them sitting comfortably inside the overhang of the doorway. Gabriel took three running steps and sprang into the air, his body shifting shape so that wings spread wide and lifted him. He flew in a straight line back to her house. From the air he could see the estate for what it was. Obviously old, the house was in beautiful shape, the grounds meticulously cared for. Everywhere he looked were unfamiliar objects, things of which he had no knowledge. Life had continued while he lay sleeping under the earth.