terminated and I swore vehemently. I had been afraid that Isaiah might draw Alex into his web, but I hadn’t thought it would happen that soon. I did know that if I didn’t show up down there at Isaiah’s estate, he might try to drag Sarah into the whole thing.
I put the cell phone back into my pocket and looked dispassionately at the bags of blood lying at my feet. Giving myself over to Isaiah would be the ultimate act of selflessness. Perhaps I was due for redemption. After all, did sixty-five years of denying myself warm human blood fully make up for the atrocities I’d committed before my imprisonment? Somehow, I doubted it was enough.
Dark memories swept over me. Memories that I had fought against for decades. Blood, torn flesh the death of innocents. Thousands of them had suffered at my hands over the centuries. I had been a different creature back then. But the changes I’d made in my diet were minute compared to the changes in the lives of people whose loved ones I’d destroyed without remorse. A mother’s loss of a daughter. A husband’s loss of a wife.
My soul cracked open with a fierce shock that brought me to my knees. Sarah had given me the ability to see what humans could mean to each other. She had opened my eyes to possibilities I never would have considered otherwise. Her courage and affection had opened my eyes. I was free of her, but it was the last thing I really wanted. Because then I was left alone with my many regrets.
I decided to purge myself of my crimes.
CHAPTER 13 – Jackson
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about riding Messenger.”
Sarah smiled at me gently and squeezed my arm. “It’s okay. She needs the exercise.”
There were more important things for us to talk about, but I hated to disrupt the way the evening was going so far. Nelly had made an amazing hash brown casserole for us and left to visit her sister in Greenwood for a few days. She had even put candles on the small table in the kitchen and set out plates and silverware for us.
We had finished off half of the casserole, a bottle and a half of blackberry wine and made our way into the parlor to listen to some of her Dad’s old records. She was curled up beside me on the sofa with her glass of wine and the afghan draped over her shapely legs. Sadie was stretched out in front of the fireplace, moving one back leg occasionally and huffing in her sleep. Billie Holiday was on the record player, singing “My Man”.
“Why haven’t you ever ridden her?”
She smiled a little sadly and stared at the rim of her glass. “I’ve been afraid.”
“You didn’t have a bad fall or anything, did you?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” I loved seeing her like that, so vulnerable and soft, answering questions with no hint of self-preservation. She was utterly open and so easy to read.
She tilted her head back against the cushions and sighed cleanly, the line of her throat clear in silhouette with the lamplight behind her. Her head turned towards me and she touched me with another tender smile that made my heart want to stop.
“I wish I could just let go and be totally brave,” she said. I knew, without being told, exactly what she needed. She needed a stepping stone. She needed someone to hold her, to give her strength for all the challenges that awaited her. She needed someone like her. Someone who understood her.
Unsure of exactly how to put it all into the right context, I wrapped one arm around her and brought her close to me. “You will one day. And when you’re ready, she’ll be waiting.”
After a few moments of silence, she leaned forward to put her glass on the coffee table and turned back to me. “You’re afraid of what might happen between us, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid that you’ve already made a connection with a vampire. And because I care about you so much, that scares the hell out of me.”
She took another long swallow of her wine before she replied tightly, “You mean