Secrets of the Night Special Edition Read Free

ago, and not once had he regretted his decision. To think of the power, not to mention immortality, why would anyone choose otherwise, if given a choice? Night after night, he gave silent thanks to Moreen, the woman who had transformed him so long ago, at a time of deep despondency, when he had seriously contemplated suicide. Once or twice every year, he and Moreen met again, renewing their friendship, sealing their relationship with a frolic in bed, a romp that left them both satisfied, but nothing more, for each remained free to seek pleasure elsewhere. And he found enjoyment in many places, Gaderian mused with a chuckle. 
    Passing the cluster of trees and bushes along both sides of the road, the cottages that rested on small plots of land, he slowed to a canter again. The spires of Moytura came into view, the houses becoming finer as he neared the city, these mansions of brick or gray stone and boasting three stories. No small plots of land here, for most of these stately houses were set on several acres. His house, recently purchased, stood farther back from the road.
    Tempted to stop and see what progress the workers had made in renovating the place, he decided to continue on, for he had lost precious time in his encounter with the young woman.
    Shortly after his transformation centuries ago, he'd bought up plots of land in Avador, with the little money he'd saved as an apothecary in his mortal life, this at a time when land was cheap. Over the years and centuries, the value of the land had increased, enabling him to sell the land at a profit and buy up more acreage. By now, he had amassed a fortune, his gold transferred to a safe in his new house. Yet he would soon have to move again, as he had so many times over the centuries. He couldn't stay in one place for any length of time, while the mortals grew old and he remained eternally young.
    Minutes later, Gaderian reached Moytura and approached the main city stable on the southern edge of the city, the pungent smell of the stable tickling his nostrils from a block away. He left his horse at the stone stable and tossed a copper coin to the sleepy stable boy, after giving instructions for the care and feeding of the stallion. Past the many shops, a walk of several blocks led him to the Snow Leopard. Like most taverns and inns in the city, the tavern stayed open until the late night hours. He pulled at the iron handle on the heavy oaken door and stepped inside, greeted by the yeasty aroma of ale and the smoke of countless pipes. Stained glass windows lined one wall, the colors indistinguishable in the semi-darkness. Oil lamps attached to iron chains hung from the ceiling, casting faint light and shadows on the room. A buzz of conversation and laughter filled the air in the main dining room with more than twenty round tables. Here and there, a patron sat by himself, eating a very late meal, but most customers indulged in talking and drinking, or playing dice. 
    He stood at the entrance for several moments, his gaze roaming the dark room, cloudy with pipe smoke, until he found the friend he had come to meet. Weaving his way among the tables, he reached the man at the far side of the room. He eased out a chair and sat down.
    "Why so late?" Egan asked. Shorter than Gaderian, with blonde hair and blue eyes, he looked young and innocent, his baby face belying his recent occupation as a professional soldier before his transformation. "If you stay here too long, the sunlight will find you. That's a chance I never take."
    "Nor I." Gaderian shrugged. "I intend to leave soon. A distraction detained me." He decided not to relate his encounter with the young lady, for there was scant chance they would ever meet again, a prospect that depressed his spirits, for reasons he feared to examine.
    Egan raised his mug to his mouth and drank. "We're both taking a chance by coming to this tavern. If anyone should suspect what we are . . ." He raised his eyebrows but said no more, his meaning