Finding Gabriel (20 page)

Rumor held that his father had been threatening to cut the financial umbilical cord as of late, leaving him destitute and alone. It seemed he’d found an easy fortune in Sybil’s fickle nature. And now he was preying on a vulnerable family. To hell if Gabriel would allow such a thing.

Etienne gave a nervous laugh and eyed Gabriel’s predatory stance. Beneath this light, he looked like a little boy – genuinely taken off guard and out of his element. A knife was clutched in his palm, its blade shimmering with blood. Sybil’s blood. Shielding Lisette’s body from view, Gabriel waited as Etienne eased farther into the room.

“Home so soon?” Etienne asked with unmasked surprise. “I have to say – it’s rather unlike you.”

“I shall kill you for this.” Fury unlike he’d ever known ignited his mind, body, and soul in a fierce blaze. Gabriel’s hands shook from the sheer force of it. He could barely bring himself to speak. Shades of red flashed before his eyes in a seductive tango.

Etienne hovered over Sybil’s slain body, gazing down with mixed emotions on his face. Sweat gathered around his collar, soaking the material through.

“You hear me?” Gabriel repeated, slinking toward the large sleigh bed.

Another nervous laugh – more strained than the one before. Etienne reached down and ran a finger over Sybil’s cheek. Gabriel’s pulse hammered in his ears until he heard nothing else. Insatiable bloodlust coursed through his veins with a blinding intensity. His fury reached a boiling point and set his blood ablaze. “We were both using each other. That’s the truth of it.”

Gabriel clenched and unclenched his fists. He would kill this man with his bare hands. He’d relish feeling the last breath slip from his lungs. Indeed, Napoleon’s entire army couldn’t save Etienne.

Gabriel continued to ease forward, giddy from the mounting anticipation and rage. It seemed as though he’d prepared for this moment his entire life, and in many ways he had. Like many boys born into a noble lineage, he’d attended Paris’s Royal Military Academy at a young age.

Inside he was fuming. Wildfire filled his mind, body, and soul. But his voice never betrayed his outward composure. His tone remained as smooth as silk and colder than ice. “If you think you shall walk away from this, then you are as stupid as you are foolish.”

Etienne turned to him, a grim smile plastered to his thin lips. He glanced away as something flickered in his stare – though Gabriel couldn’t say what. Then he turned back to Sybil with a dejected sigh and closed her eyes with the heel of his palm. “My father says I’m foolish and stupid. Says I’m no good – that I’d waste away my inheritance without a second thought.” He pushed up his left sleeve and exposed his lower arm. Burn marks wrapped his flesh like so many brands. The skin was angry and welted, raised from the rest of his arm like some twisted mountain range. Gabriel felt nothing but seething hatred. It surged through his veins, consuming him from the inside out. “Father would heat the poker in the fireplace until it glowed red. Then he’d tie my hands behind my back with his belt and lower the metal to my skin. Each time I screamed, I’d earn another brand. I would bite my tongue to keep from crying out … I’d bite down till the metallic flavor of blood overflowed my jaws. Even now I can taste it.” His lips twisted into the semblance of a smile. “It became our nightly bonding time. See, I was a very mischievous little boy.” He gazed at the blazing hearth from the corner of his eye. “Sybil fancied the scars. Always insisted on lighting that thing, too …”

Gabriel took several more steps until they stood no more than three meters apart. His dirk’s hilt called out to him, whispering his name, promising vengeance. He grazed the gilded handle, trying to appear inconspicuous. He prayed Lisette was not peering beneath the chaise – that she’d not witness the blood her father was about to shed. Then he glanced downward and gestured to Etienne’s burns. “Your father is right in that. You are a fool. And you shall know true pain after I’m done with you.”

Etienne smoothed down his sleeve and gave another pointed look – this one longer than the last. “Now who’s the fool?”

Everything seemed to happen simultaneously. Lisette’s scream pierced the air. Gabriel spun on his heels, the dirk momentarily forgotten. Behind him was a
second man
– one he’d never seen before now. His fingers were coiled in Lisette’s hair and a knife was aligned to her throat. Tears streaked his daughter’s cheeks in thick streams, and Gabriel grew dizzy with despair.

There were
two
men. Etienne had merely been distracting Gabriel.

The newest arrival shared many of Etienne’s features: a reed-thin nose, light green eyes, a swarm of brown curls, and an identical complexion. He knew without being told that this was Etienne’s younger brother.

“Frederick,” Etienne murmured, “took you long enough.”

“Easy now. I only got so many hands. I was busy loadin’ the carriage.” Lisette gave a sharp cry as he tugged on her hair, pulling her flush against him. Tears coating her cheeks, she squirmed and reached above her head in an attempt to loosen the hold. Frederick responded by increasing the pressure of his grasp. Gesturing to Gabriel with a nod, he continued speaking, “Told you we shouldn’t have left the damned pistols behind.”

Etienne’s lips curved. “Odds are two against one. As a fellow gambler, you ought to know they’re undoubtedly in our favor.”

Eyeing his daughter, Gabriel raised both palms in surrender and inched nearer to Frederick. “Take what you like. Kill me. Do what you will. Just let my daughter go. Please.”

“Tut-tut. Not another step.”

Pulse racing, Gabriel obeyed the harsh command. “Let her go, and I won’t breathe a word to the authorities. In the Lord’s name, I give you my word.”

A low, haunting chuckle radiated behind Gabriel. “That’s mighty rich of you,” Etienne snickered. “Unfortunately, it won’t cut it. Sybil told me you’re godless. ‘One of your many deficits,’ she loved to claim.”

“And you – you believe in God?” Gabriel spat between clenched jaws. “Then know this – you’re destined to burn in hell.”

Frederick cut in, “I suppose we can make a bit of a deal. Help my brother and I finish what we’ve started, and the little bitch goes free.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Now, your wife’s finest jewels – where are they hidin’? Your money, too – show me where you stash it.”

Gabriel paced across the room. He felt the burn of Etienne’s and Frederick’s eyes on him at every step. He didn’t trust them at all but would humor them for the moment. Indeed, he’d oblige their requests and strike when the opportunity presented itself. “We keep the safe up here – on the bureau.” Struggling to keep his steps steady and inconspicuous, he wandered over to the towering piece of furniture. He reached above his head – feeling for his loaded flintlock pistol and ammo. He’d stashed the weapon safely out of sight and reach … hiding it where Lisette could never hope to find it.

“Easy now. What you gettin’ up there?” Etienne asked.

“Like I said – this is where my wife and I hide our valuables.”

Etienne threw his brother a pointed look. “Be quick about it, then.”

Gabriel clasped onto the pistol’s handle, inhaled deeply, and counted to three. Then he spun around, aimed at Frederick’s chest, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot punctured the silence in an earsplitting roar. Lisette cried out as Frederick rolled out of harm’s way. The bullet skimmed his shoulder blade, summoning a choked sound from his throat. He vanished from sight, taking refuge behind the room’s immense furniture. Freed from the man’s arms, Lisette cried out and crawled toward Gabriel on all fours.

Not sparing a second, he reloaded the pistol, spun full circle, and aimed straight at Etienne’s chest. The pistol rang out just as Etienne knocked the firearm from his hand, sending it tumbling to the floor. Then Etienne’s dagger whizzed through the air in a deft arch and sliced through Gabriel’s shoulder. Momentarily disoriented from the flash of pain, he stumbled against a bed post. Etienne was on him without hesitation. Gabriel maneuvered out of the dagger’s reach as the weapon was rained down.

“Papa!”

Gabriel rotated toward his daughter’s voice. The brief interruption allowed a window of opportunity for Etienne’s blade. It scraped his bicep and ushered a harsh curse from his lips.

Lisette attempted to rise to her feet. Mind spinning, he shouted to her between strained breaths, “No! No, Lisette. Leave! Leave … leave the room!” Surely the servants would’ve heard the gunshot and they’d be calling for help. In the meantime, Gabriel would distract Etienne and Frederick. The odds weren’t in his favor – and he’d gladly sacrifice his own life to buy Lisette a few seconds of escape. “Hurry, Lisette. I said now!”

Never one to disobey, she stumbled toward the door. The flowing material of her skirts tripped her, sending her crashing onto the floorboards face-first. Seeing this, Gabriel cocked back his good arm and struck Etienne square in the jaw. Blood and broken teeth gushed from his mouth. Etienne rocked on his heels, dazed from the deafening blow.

Gabriel took the moment to race toward Lisette. But Frederick beat him to the chase; he emerged from wherever he’d been hiding, quick as lightning in spite of his seething wound. A metallic flash shone like a beacon. He thrust his dagger in a downward arch, bloodlust etched into his face. Gabriel’s heart came to a standstill as his daughter was stabbed through the back. Buried to the hilt, the blade tore through her slender torso with ease.

In that moment, he and Lisette were connected … one and the same, kindred spirits. As he watched her spirit fade away, he felt a part of himself disappear as well. His body grew cold and numb, resembling nothing more than an empty shell.

Gabriel’s first thought:
this has to be a nightmare.
Surely evil didn’t run so deep. Come morning, Gabriel would amend his ways. He would be a devoted father and husband for the rest of his days. But as blood began to puddle beneath Lisette
’
s tiny body, Gabriel knew he wasn’t asleep.

This was reality at its darkest and most perverse. A soul-deep shudder rocked his body. She was dead. Lisette was dead.

He gripped the bed post to support his weight. Shattering tears of disbelief sprang to his eyes, blurring the world around him. The grief was unbearable. He threw his head back and screamed. The sound was twisted, primitive, and almost inhuman in its despair. Then Gabriel’s eyes rose to Etienne – who also appeared overcome with disbelief – and a singular, burning need for vengeance sang through his veins.

Everything happened at once.

Gabriel stormed over to Frederick, who was standing somewhat dazed above Lisette’s bloodied body, and punched him straight in the face. The force of the impact loosened the dagger from his hands and he crumpled to his knees. Gabriel collected it without a moment’s hesitation. Then he latched onto Frederick’s hair, pulled his head off the floor, and slit his throat in one clean slice. Blood spewed from Frederick’s mouth and neck as he garbled, coughed, and finally choked to death. All the while, Etienne loaded Gabriel’s disregarded pistol with shot.

Gabriel paced toward Etienne with steady, measured steps. Etienne fumbled his handiwork – clueless on how to properly load a pistol. His hands shook and sweat dribbled from his brow.

As Gabriel edged closer, he noticed tears were mingled with the sweat. “Frederick! My baby brother! You murdered him! You – ”

Gabriel silenced Etienne with a solid punch to the stomach. Etienne folded at the seams as his body slid to the ground. Gabriel gripped the boy’s lapels, lifted him back onto his feet, and punched him in the face once, twice, three, four, five times – until his features melted into nothing more than bloody pulp. Gabriel flexed his fingers, barely registering the broken bones in his hand. Torn open from the impact, blood streamed down his knuckles and leaked onto the floorboards. Etienne attempted to speak through his shattered jaw – but only a pitiful moan surfaced. Gabriel released his lapels, allowing him to violently crash to the floor.

Gabriel stepped over his fallen body, moving with an inhuman quickness and power. Etienne groaned and attempted to stand; Gabriel stopped him with a harsh kick to the side – followed by two more. Blood exploded from Etienne’s mouth and leaked onto the floorboards in an ever-growing puddle. Then Gabriel latched onto Etienne’s hair and repeatedly slammed his face against the planks. Once, twice, three, four, five, six, seven times. Etienne’s handsome features melted away – further transforming into a colorful stew of blood, saliva, tears, and vomit. Choked, guttural noises spilled from his lips as he vainly clawed at the floorboards.

“You and your brother killed my wife. Murdered my little girl.”

Unsheathing his dirk, Gabriel plunged the blade into Etienne’s back, burying it to the hilt. Then he gave a twist for good measure. More blood and guttural sobs bubbled from Etienne’s lips, his eyes turned glassy, and broken teeth chattered against the stained panels.

“Don’t you fucking die yet.”

Gabriel fetched the fire poker and thrust it into the hearth. The flames licked at the iron until it glowed an unholy shade of red. Fueled by bloodlust, all remaining sanity vanished from Gabriel’s consciousness.

They’d often spoken of this phenomenon at the military academy – a surreal feeling where time drags to a crawl, where everything merges together in a fantastic blur, where the past and the future fuse as one entity … until all that remains is the heat of the moment.

Battle fever.

Etienne murmured an incoherent prayer as Gabriel elevated him by the scruff of his collar. “Don’t waste your breath. There’s no salvation.” Steadying the poker in his opposite hand, Gabriel shoved Etienne’s face into the crackling fire. Muffled screams rang out while Etienne’s face distorted, shriveled, and blackened. Those hungry flames devoured him; they consumed his destroyed features with the fervor of a thousand mouths – and spit out whatever remained in a heap of ashes.

Shades of red danced before Gabriel’s eyes. A blasphemous curse rose inside his mind, and he prayed the last thing Etienne saw was his father’s damnation. Then he pulled Etienne from the hearth, and, in one fell swoop, drove the fire-poker through his gushing nape … again and again and again.