Forbidden (The Gabriel Lennox Series Book 1) (18 page)

“And from where did you learn that parlor trick?” Gabriel asked, eyeing the very long sword. “I would very much like to learn, too.”

He grazed the sword gently across Gabriel’s throat, smiling. “From Beautiful Light and at a great cost. But you’re not like me. Where you have much to lose, I have much to gain.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, not quite understanding what Seth meant. He questioned his motivation for trying to. After all, if he could comprehend the ruminations of the mad, wouldn’t that make him mad as well?

Seth pursed his lips into a tight smile before speaking. “I’m smarter than you think. Much smarter. You tried to use Bela against me and failed.”

“Did you ever think that she has her own agenda?” Gabriel replied. “And besides, I’m not the only one guilty of using her.”

Seth disappeared from above the bed and reappeared beside him in the time it would’ve taken Gabriel to blink. He held the sword at Gabriel’s neck, nicking him with the blade’s sharp edge. He chuckled deeply in his throat. “I wonder what would happen if I were to drink a bit of your blood.”

Gabriel took hold of the sword’s blade and didn’t flinch when it bit into his flesh. Rivulets of blood laced over his fingers as Seth tried to seize the sword. When he tried to pull the sword again, Gabriel let it go and willed it to thrust into his side. He smiled, pleased with himself when Seth cried out and writhed in pain. Gabriel leapt off of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the wardrobe door slowly opening, and his clothes that he had tossed inside appeared to be floating several feet off the ground. Clothes, he noticed, attached to slender legs with stockings scampered with no sign of stopping toward him.

Nikolai shook off the garments, his eyes narrowed with purpose. He stared at Seth. “You had better leave.”

“My quarrel is not with you,
boy
!” Seth snapped at him through clenched teeth. He pressed his hand against his bleeding side.

Nikolai smiled, his sky blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’ve been warned.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, continuing to breathe in and in as if preparing to make a birthday wish. Weakness slithered through him as if Nikolai sucked in his essence from the air. The weaker he felt, the more Nikolai glowed blue, like the hottest, deepest flame.

The boy opened his eyes, exhaled, and released a gale of cool energy, which swept through the entire room, flooding over Gabriel. He felt its invisible tendrils searching for somewhere to reach and spread, like the budding branches of a tree.

The window above his dresser burst open. The power drowning him wanted to escape, needed a destination. It lifted Seth into the air, thrusting him through the window, his long legs flailing, his arms reaching for something to hold on to. He screamed for a few seconds and then stopped, and nothing but the chirping of crickets outside, the song of a nightingale, and beneath that the beauty of Mikel’s piano, remained.

Night melodies.

How did you do that, Gabriel wanted to ask, but he couldn’t form the words, and a part of him didn’t want to know. Instead, he stared at Nikolai. Eyes still glowing, the boy drifted back to the floor. Yes, Nikolai had really been levitating. Disturbing. Heaviness weighed down Gabriel’s eyes as if the ferryman of souls had laid coins upon them.

Sleep. Death.

He feared no real difference existed.

* * *

Blood. The taste was like mother’s milk to an infant—sweet, warm, and familiar.

Gabriel swallowed hard before opening his eyes and found himself lying on the floor. Colin knelt beside him, his wrist against his open mouth. Gabriel shoved his arm away.

Colin gave him a faint smile, then dipped a washcloth into a basin and wiped his own arm. The two distinct puncture marks of Gabriel’s teeth blatantly stood out.

He looked at the ceiling. “What have you done?”

“Gave you what you needed is all,” Colin said.

Gabriel shot up, and his head reeled; it felt like it was full of water. Or blood.

“You passed out,” Nikolai explained. He kneeled at his feet. His eyes no longer glowed. “And then, you got up and tried to bite me. I was afraid. I called for Colin while you screamed.”

Screamed? Gabriel narrowed his eyes. Why couldn’t he remember?

Colin nodded. “With your condition, I knew what you needed. So I gashed a vein for you.”

“Need? Blood isn’t a necessity for me.”

Colin stared at him. “Wants. Needs. Who am I,” he continued, with a nonchalant shrug, “to decide where to draw the line?”

Gabriel looked at Nikolai from the corner of his eyes, like a bird fascinated with a serpent. “What you did. How?”

Nikolai smiled from ear to ear, lips sealed.

“Door’s locked. May I come in?” Nathaniel asked on the other side.

“I haven’t any good news, so you needn’t bother,” Gabriel replied.

Nathaniel laughed and appeared in the room. “Well then. We have something in common.”

Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat. “I hate when you do that.” He narrowed his eyes.

“And I love the priceless expression on your face when I do.” He leaned against the wall, smiling. “You know, you should consider acting.”

Gabriel thought to stand up, but remained seated on the floor.

Nathaniel’s eyes shifted to Nikolai, who immediately dashed out of the room. Then he turned his cold gaze to Colin.

Colin looked at Nathaniel, then back at him. “Master Gabriel.”

“You may stay.” He gave him a faint smile. The closest to a “thank you” Colin would receive from him, as Gabriel hated sentimentality.

Nathaniel’s mouth thinned into a tight line as Colin picked up the basin of water. When he disappeared into the bathroom, he cleared his throat. “Bela’s gone. What happened, Lothario?”

He gave him a brief and vague summary of Seth’s visit.
Very
vague. He told him nothing of Nikolai’s interference or losing consciousness. Too embarrassing. These omissions wouldn’t matter, though. Nathaniel, as clever as he was wicked, had ways of finding out what he wanted to know. “Seth cut me here. But really, the amount of blood he spilled is insignificant.” Grazing his neck with his fingertips, he noticed that they were stained red. “Surely, he couldn’t initiate a blood bond with such a minuscule amount.”

Nathaniel’s face possessed a guarded look. “I wouldn’t be so certain, my Prince. That sword. If there’s any blood on the blade, even a little . . .” He tilted his head backward slightly, sniffing the air like a wolf searching for prey. “I smell blood. Not Bela’s. Not yours . . .”

Gabriel stared at him.
How did he know
?
How could he tell the difference?
“And I smell rosewater. Been cavorting with whores again?”

Nathaniel stooped to one knee. “Your mouth. There’s a bit of blood at the corners.” His long fingers reached out to brush Gabriel’s lips. “My, my. Did you feed this evening? From whom, I wonder.” The obsequious tone revealed that he probably already knew whom.

Gabriel turned his face away. “Touch me and you shall lose more than your fingers.”

Nathaniel smiled. “I apologize.”

“You apologize in vain. You know better than that.” Gabriel sighed long and deep. “By the by, your terrible news is definitely five minutes old, and it more than likely involves Seth.”

“Yes, as you say, but you’re still concerned. I can see a crease of worry in your brow.”

Gabriel raised an open hand, palm up in question. “What’s there to worry about? I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have to say one word,” Nathaniel replied, just as brusquely. “You know what I mean.”

Gabriel touched the spot on his throat where Seth had cut him. He remembered the sword and couldn’t help but wonder if Seth would be able to lick any of his blood from the blade. He pushed the disturbing thought aside. “If he drank any of my blood, it doesn’t matter. I’d have to have drunk some of his blood, which I haven’t. There’s no threat of a blood bond. The matter isn’t as bad as you may think. Really. It isn’t. Tell me what you’ve learned.”

Nathaniel studied Gabriel’s face before he focused his attention to the open window. “Seth has grown to be quite popular in a matter of nights. Alexander informed me that some of the Chosen have begun to kill for him. ‘In the name of Seth,’ they’re said to whisper in their victim’s ears. Killing is some kind of ritual, some initiation. They’ll draw attention to themselves. To us.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? What Lilith wants? She doesn’t want what we have to offer to be kept secret. Correct?”

Nathaniel nodded. “But when the wolf stalks his prey, does he bay and howl? No, he’s gracefully devious. Seth made a good point about not all humans becoming immortal. But the ones that are going to be left as they are for the sake of our nourishment must feel protected, safe. Not fearful. And that’s where the trouble manifests. Seth fails miserably in that area. Yes, he’s charming. He’s like the flame that seduces the moth, but he doesn’t merely want to scorch his prey. He wants to consume it. He enjoys inflicting fear. He enjoys destruction.” Nathaniel brought his hand to his chin, clenching it into a fist. His voice changed. “You know what you must do.”

Gabriel froze. He knew what Nathaniel insinuated: destroy Seth and his traitors or make negotiations with them. In a sense, Seth had spoken the truth. There would be a bloodbath, but not between the Chosen and humans. In his mind, he saw a vision of himself covered from head to toe in blood, the blood of his own kind. He pushed the image aside before he could recognize the expression on his face. A smile?

A dazzling smile of ecstasy.

“How did drinking from Bela go?” Nathaniel asked, voice suddenly bright, “I gather that you were successful.”

Gabriel nodded again and told him what had happened. He should’ve suspected she had been playing the same game.

“Interesting,” Nathaniel murmured.

“I notice you say that when you don’t know what to do next.”

“Yes.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Well, by the by, I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps Bela has no powers to siphon.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I drank from her, and nothing has . . . transpired. Apparently. I theorized that if I drank from her as you said, I could acquire Seth’s power to weave illusions.” Gabriel drew in a long breath, held it, before letting it out. “But I think his power is something that I can only master by dipping into the source itself.”

“And now that’s a dead end. But having Bela alone in your presence must’ve redeemed your endeavors. Made them worthwhile.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Worthwhile? You act as if I should be pleased. As I said, I drank from her, and nothing has happened. At least, I felt nothing. No flash of power, no surge of heat or strength. Nothing.”

“It may take time. You must be patient.”

Colin ambled out of the bathroom, drying his hands with a towel as he made his way to the bed. His eyes were wide, apparently filled with questions and so much easier to read than Mikel’s secretive blue eyes. He had obviously been listening. He sat at the edge of the bed, silent.

Gabriel fixed on Nathaniel with an intense, penetrating stare. “If I find a consort, my powers will be stronger?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“But I don’t understand. You warned me to never fall in love.”

Nathaniel held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Now wait just a moment. Love is a taboo, but I never said anything about familiarities. Coupling with a woman isn’t the same as falling in love with one. It’s the transfer of energy during the act of sex that you need. And who knows,” he went on with a perfect imitation of a Gaelic shrug, “your feelings may develop into something like love. So, when shall you bed Bela?”

Gabriel thought of the girl in his dreams, whose face he could never see. “Never. Drinking her blood is as far as I’ll go,” he replied. “I don’t trust her. And I daresay, she’s weak and two-faced.”

“Trust? If you don’t trust her, for the love of God, make sure that you’re on top when you’re fucking her.” Nathaniel smirked. “That way, it’ll be much harder for her to stab a knife in your back.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No. I’m not a whore like you. Unlike you, I have standards.”

Nathaniel laughed at the insult. “I did not ask if you wanted to live happily ever after with Bela; I didn’t ask if you wanted to have tea with her. I didn’t ask if you wished to go for a stroll with Bela. My question was, if you wanted to bed Bela for more power.”

“I lose patience with you,” Gabriel said. With that, he strode out of the room.

* * *

Seth had twisted time and space seconds before he hit the ground. Bela threw herself at his feet. “I have failed you. . .”

He leaned forward and tilted her chin back with the hilt of the sword. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got what I want.” He offered Bela a hand, and she stood beside him. He raised the sword, and the blade shone silver in the moonlight. Gabriel’s spilt blood looked redder and wetter. He smiled and licked the blade clean. “The bond is still not complete,” he said aloud. “This is merely a minor victory. . .”

“Then, how will you get him to drink of you?” Bela asked. He came round to looking at her. His smile widened. The sight of her pretty face and figure gave him an idea.

IMMORTALITY. WHAT’S
THE POINT?

In the garden, Gabriel broke a rose from its stem. Unfolding immortality’s purpose seemed like trying to unfold a rose without breaking a single petal. Impossible.

“Death isn’t natural,” Nathaniel had said to him a few moments ago. His words sent Gabriel to brood in the garden. To escape, to think. But thinking didn’t help. He just felt more confused and agitated. Death. If it wasn’t natural, why was it expected, accepted, and humanized into an angel?

Or a monster?

When he was mortal, death certainly appeared to be a formidable foe, but now, he considered whether it would be a welcomed release from a purposeless existence. During his mortal years, he ate, drank, and fretted about life in order to survive. He had lived because death proved to be more frightening. He lived because he feared not existing.

Now, immortality had worsened his situation. He wanted independence, he wanted to rule himself, but instead with immortality came more chains, tying him to those who had made him. A slave. Seth wanted omnipotence. He wanted to rule others.

Through the eyes of god
. Seth’s exact words.

Gabriel rubbed his temples. “Bloody hell, get out of my head,” he murmured to himself.

He reflected on the night of the party held in his honor. The senseless, contrived dancing of the Chosen. They danced because it was expected, something to do to pass the time. The plodding tick tock tick of time. He hated to admit that he and Seth were not so . . . different.

He plucked the petals from the rose. The wind carried them away. The stem fell from his fingers, and when he turned to go back into the house, he saw Bela ambling toward him through the open gate. Tonight, the stars glowed without the moon’s company.

Bela glowed more. She looked beautiful, dressed in a silver gown accentuated with pearls along its high collar, white gloves adorned her hands, and her brown hair piled at the nape of her neck in an ornate bun showed off her pale, slender neck.

Her gray eyes remained cast to the ground until she stood inches away from Gabriel. She stood so near; he could smell the scent of her blood, singing in the veins beneath her pliant flesh. That rich, irresistible and coppery scent could not be mistaken for any other fragrance, but tonight, something bitter about it clung in his nostrils. It didn’t smell as sweet as he remembered it tasting. It smelled bitter. “I’m sorry Gabriel,” she said, finally, meeting his gaze, “for attacking you. For leaving you . . . helpless.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.

“Please,” Gabriel said, “don’t do that. Just leave. I insist that you leave.”

Her eyes darkened. “Is that what you really want?”

Gabriel nodded but didn’t push her away. He just stood there until his muscles ached to move.

She gazed up into his face. “I don’t know if this is important, but I do know that long ago Seth had been a patient at the Bedlam Asylum. Or maybe
inmate
is the proper word. What do you think? You know about the Bedlam Asylum, don’t you?”

He had heard stories about people being manacled to the floor, and their fellow men paying money to see them tortured and raped. He hated to recall that it wasn’t just a story, but rather a dark part of history, and that no matter how many it times it repeated itself—man’s cruelty to man—in another shape or form, it always looked ugly and terrible. But he had no pity for Seth. Seth killed and tortured, because he enjoyed, while others who had shared his tragic past did not. It could be said that Seth, who relished in cruelty had been born to such an existence and nothing,
nothing
could change him.

“Do you love Seth? This poisoned youth?” Gabriel asked. “Or is it misguided pity that binds you to him?”

Bela took his hand and placed his forefinger in her pink, full mouth. A cry of surprise slipped from him when she bit into his finger. He flinched, watching her draw blood from his finger, mesmerized.

She slipped his finger out of her mouth and smiled with lips stained red by his blood. “Would you like to drink of me?” Without waiting for him to reply, she undid the first several buttons of the high collar, exposing of her throat and a bit of her cleavage.

Gabriel took her by the shoulders and bit into her neck. He drank her blood in long, deep swallows. He withdrew, coming to an abrupt stop. This time, he hadn’t experienced the same amount of pleasure as the first time. He held her away from him at arm’s length, searching her face for an answer.

“The fools at Bedlam.” Her face twisted with hatred. “They thought that Seth was mad.
He
—a genius! In time, he showed them who was the better man. Clouded their minds, laced their very minds with doubt and confusion and then escaped. Escaped to the dirty streets of Whitechapel and came to life when a man who wasn’t a man gave him a kiss that was more than a kiss.” Her voice deepened several octaves, and then one of her gray eyes lightened into green, and the other bled with shades of gold and amber.

In one fluid motion, she spun away from him and in mid-turn, Seth stood before him, head thrown back in mad laughter. He removed the white cravat, saturated with blood, (Gabriel had unwittingly drunk), and cast it to the ground.

No. No!

Seth ran his tongue along his bottom lip, lapping up a stray droplet of Gabriel’s blood. “My maker opened a new world for me. A world pulsating with new sensations. I used to have to walk through the streets, read the newspapers, to relish others’ fear, but
now
I can sense their fear, hear it in their voices. Smell it even. Taste it.” He brought his hand to his mouth and licked the tips of his fingers. “Glorious. And now with what Beautiful Light has bestowed upon me, I have exceeded that and taken upon me the name of fear and wear it like a cloak.”

Gabriel slashed the air between them with an open hand. “You’re weak. Without the bond you formed with Beautiful Light, you’re nothing.
Nothing
!” His present goal was to keep Seth talking. In order to break the blood bond, he’d have to get closer to Seth and mix their spilled blood onto the ground. He sidestepped behind a tree and vanished. He drifted in the air, hovering above Seth, who looked upward, and vanished out of the way. Gabriel realized that he could see him or at least sense him. A pointless game of hide and seek. The blood bond canceled out any means of him surprising Seth with an attack.

The other man laughed and moved with lightning speed in the opposite direction. “You dare to call me weak? You, Gabriel who defends the stupid humans, our prey? Ha. I do what you’re afraid to!”

Gabriel materialized several feet from him and stole backward toward the garden door. “Of course. Killing pleases you.”

He laughed again and snapped his fingers. “Yes.”

Before Gabriel could turn the knob, an intense pressure on his chest and his head, forced him to his knees. Paralyzed by something he couldn’t see. He
knew
, could sense that whatever suffocated him wasn’t Seth’s power, but something alien.

Ancient.

A power beyond both of them.

“Beautiful Light comes,” Seth said.

A flash of brightness, an explosion of light, seemed to burst in his brain, his mind, and he felt himself sliding, slipping away, like the rose petals had in the wind. He fell into a tunnel of darkness, a violet darkness streaked with living blue and gold.

At the end of the darkness shimmered a rainbow-colored core, pulsating like a heartbeat, throbbing with life.

In the center of that light stood Seth.

What more do you want? What more could you possibly want?
Gabriel thought, unable to speak.

Seth smiled. “I once spoke to you about looking through the eyes of a god, and you know what they say about gods, don’t you? Whom the gods would destroy—they first drive mad. And I, Gabriel, want to see you suffer before I destroy you.”

Silence came followed by a blinding whiteness.