Gabriel (18 page)

I left the pain and the nausea as everything spun, and I became lost to the darkness.

Utter stillness, my mind painted black.

This sleep was dreamless.

*   *   *

A
SHEET OF BLACK
cloaked my mind, but then something formed at the center of the nothingness: a dark, textured swirl.

A white dove flew through the center, and it fluttered before me, staring with its perfect crystal-blue eyes. It searched deep down inside, seeking to discover me.

The dove hovered, as though it were trying to entrance me with its beauty. Then it began beating its quilled feathers more rapidly and, without warning, wrapped them around its front, covering itself entirely.

A quaking, inhuman cry echoed, and the sound of death rushed toward me. Black keratin inked the dove's white wings until their purity was painted over and all that remained were two wide eyes peering out at me over the now-indistinguishable feathers of night. The ink seeped into the bird's eyes, making its orbs swirl like blue and black dye dropped into water. They closed slowly and then reawakened a ravenous red.

The dove was gone, and in its place was a toxic raven that soared high in the air, and when it finally stopped, a raised sore formed above its left eye.

The raven swooped and darted toward me.

It seemed to hit an invisible force, which threw it backward; it was then that I saw a frosted gray sheet, trapping the bird and protecting my mind.

The raven squawked as its wings transformed into a cloak and its claws morphed into bladed talons.

The Pureblood revealed his true form to me.

An uneven, grotesque grin curled over deadly fangs, and his jaw snapped low, emitting an ultrasonic squall from his throat.

Straightening his index finger, he raised his arm very slowly and then stopped at the center of my vision.

His eyes flashed as he pointed menacingly at me.

Zherneboh.

 

FIFTEEN

I
BOLTED UPRIGHT, GASPING
as the skin across my belly smarted.

Gabriel sat beside me on a wooden chair. He grabbed my clammy hands in his own.

I panted shallow breaths, and eventually whispered, “He knows. They know.”

Gabriel's hand clenched into a fist and fear fluttered across his eyes. The silence between us spoke more than any words. We both knew what this meant. We also both knew how very much I had defied Gabriel.

A wave of resentment rushed through him and then over me.

“Lai, how could you?” He shot out of the chair and kicked it against the fireplace across the room.

Gabriel's action caught me off guard. I scanned the room and saw Ruadhan, who was now standing at attention behind Gabriel, very much like a soldier. And why not? We all knew a fight was coming.

Because of me.

“I'm sorry.” And I was. Truly sorry, that what I had done caused him great upset. I didn't want to be the cause of Gabriel's unhappiness, but I would never apologize for choosing to save Jonah.

“You couldn't even remember him, Lai,” Gabriel said with frustration. “And he won't thank you for it.”

But I did know Jonah. And I knew that I'd had feelings for him before I fell on the mountaintop. A realization that I had no desire to explore, let alone confess to. It would be far better, far
simpler
, if no one knew that I remembered Jonah at all.

“Whether he thanks me or not, I couldn't let him die,” I said.

Gabriel scraped his hands through his hair and returned to my side. “Your inability to walk away from trouble will be your undoing, Lai.” He pursed his lips. “I'm afraid that if you can't understand that your life is worth more, I won't be able to protect you.”

Ruadhan hovered behind Gabriel but remained silent.

I was getting sick of Gabriel's attitude. “Who am I—who are you—to decide that my existence is worth more than anyone else's? We're not the same as the Arch Angels, and we're not like the Purebloods. Zherneboh knows now, but he would've found me sooner or later. He will chase me down for the rest of my existence.”

“What are you saying?” Gabriel returned quickly.

I tilted my chin up to Gabriel. He sat down and allowed me to plant a small kiss on his sumptuous lips.

“I love you with everything I am,” I said. “But I won't run.”

Gabriel inhaled sharply, staring at me as though I had just ordered my own execution.

“No, Lai. I can't,
I won't
let you go to war with them.”

Ruadhan placed his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. “The little love is right, Gabriel. Let her stand and be counted.”

Gabriel shrugged Ruadhan away and stood up. “I don't believe I'm hearing this. This is supposed to be your beginning, yet your actions can only lead to one thing—your end. And you!” He swung himself toward Ruadhan. “Is that what you want for her?”

“I don't intend to start a war,” I said, trying to sound as composed as possible. “But I can't live my life on the run. We have to figure something out. Until Zherneboh's gone, we won't be free.”

“Free? Free to do what exactly, Lai?” Gabriel turned, his eyes wide.

“To be together, forever,” I replied quickly. “I need to learn how to use my abilities and control them, fully.” I remembered that there was a group of people not far from here that might know where my mother was. “I want to stay here, at least a little while longer. Will you help me?” I asked softly.

Gabriel considered what I was asking of him. “You asked for this. You knew if you let Jonah drink from you that Zherneboh would find you, but you did it anyway.” He paused, his forehead crowding with lines. “You left Ruadhan's care; you put yourself in danger. You talk about spending forever with me.” He paused and then his voice dropped low. “Yet you run away from me at every opportunity you get.”

His whole body trembled with rage and fear. He marched out of the room, passing Ruadhan as if he weren't there.

“Gabriel…” My insides knotted.

He hesitated in the doorway, his arms outstretched, gripping either side of the frame. He didn't look back, but said, “Every day that goes by, I recognize you less.”

And he was gone.

I sat dumbfounded by his sharp words. To Gabriel, my act of saving Jonah was the same as throwing myself to the wolves. He loved me, and so I'd thrown him to the wolves, too.

Ruadhan sat by my side and rubbed my back. “It's okay, love.”

“I need to speak to him.”

“No, sweetheart, leave him be. He's trying to protect you, and you're making that difficult for him, but you're right in what you say. And what you did for Jonah was an act of kindness; it's part of who you are. There's no shame in that.”

I knew exactly what Ruadhan was thinking. “I can't save them all, Ruadhan. But I need to face Zherneboh if I want to save myself, to save Gabriel.”

Ruadhan's eyes shone, and he squeezed my hand. “One day at a time, love. And defeating that demon is as good a place as any to start.”

Though my mind spun with thoughts, it was my body that needed immediate attention. My throat was dry. I was hollow and empty inside. But I feared the thing that would fortify me.

“I think I need, you know…” I bowed my head.

“Aye. Gabriel still has business to tie up—his arrangements had to be changed—so we'll be here a few more days, but then he will want to take you away. In the meantime, you need to feed.” Ruadhan's bushy eyebrows lifted; he knew that was not something I wanted to do.

“Jonah offered me his help, before—”

Ruadhan flinched as he took in the vicious scars left behind from Jonah's retaliation.

“I doubt Jonah will help now, love. He's barely uttered a word since…”

“I'll talk to him,” I said.

“You can try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do. How are you feeling?”

“Not great. But I can see properly out of my eye again.”

Ruadhan nodded. “That's healed. You've been unconscious for over a week now, but your skin, where the blade—” Ruadhan stopped, considering his words carefully. “It's repaired, but I'm afraid the marks will likely remain.”

I stared down again, and while they were unpleasant to look at, strangely I didn't feel embarrassed by the bruised lumps around my navel. These scars were different from my others. They were marks born out of love. How could that be ugly?

I swung my legs off the sofa, and Ruadhan helped me to stand. I pushed my newly short hair behind my ears. “I had to cut it off, so he wouldn't know it was me.”

“It suits you, love. You look like a proper little warrior.”

His smile was reassuring, and once again I was grateful this family, such as it was, included Ruadhan.

My skimpy pajamas were stained with my blood. “Are there any clothes I can borrow?” I asked.

“Up in Brooke's room. Come on, I'll take you.”

He offered me his arm, but I shook my head. “No, I'd rather you find Gabriel, please. Try to make him see. I do love him, Ruadhan.”

“Aye. As I said, he's not been the same since he came back from the States. He seems more, well, he's acting more
human
.”

Ruadhan was right. Gabriel's reactions, his mood, were far more changeable and different than before. But I wasn't making his life an easy one.

“I'll speak with him, but then we need to find you … something to drink. You need to be fully fueled, and I'm betting Jonah drained away a lot of your dark energy,” Ruadhan said.

My throat tightened as Ruadhan's words crept up my neck like a pair of hands, ready to strangle me.

I hobbled out of the living room and found the stairway. I wrapped my arms around my waist, above my wounds, as I stepped carefully. I found Brooke's room and flicked on the tall lamp.

Jonah was sitting on the end of the bed. He snapped his head around as my breath caught in the back of my throat.

He bounced up from the mattress. “What are you doing in here?” His words were flat as his eyes scanned my body—and my scars.

I was relieved that he looked the way I remembered him—he was no longer knocking on death's door and seemed completely fine.

“You look brilliant,” I said. “I mean, you're all better.” I started to walk toward him, but he put his hand in the air. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” He glared at me with contempt. “
What's wrong?
” he snarled. “Look at you.” His nostrils seemed to flare and wicked flames lapped the corners of his irises.

I ran my hand through my short hair. “I came to get some clothes.” I hobbled toward the wardrobe in the corner of the room, opened the doors, and pretended to rummage through a neat pile of jeans. They dropped to the floor as Jonah spun me around and dragged me back across the room by my arm, positioning me next to a large lamp.

“Look at yourself,” he said.

“Look at
yourself
,” I repeated, referring to the way he was roughhousing me. Still he didn't release me. I didn't need to examine my skin. I wasn't ashamed. “I did what was necessary,” I said.

His top lip quivered angrily, revealing his fangs. His grasp around my arm tightened, his toned arms flexed, and his chest rose as though he were restraining himself.

“And I'd do it again,” I said, cracking my own jaw.

That did it.

He grabbed me and launched me across the room and onto the bed. I propped myself up by my elbows, but Jonah was fast, straddling me and pushing me back down to the duvet. Pushing his thumbs onto my hip bones, he pinned me in place underneath him. His eyes blazed ruby red as he watched my face, waiting for me to show remorse.

When I didn't, he finally said, “I despise you for what you did, for what you let me do to you.”

He grazed his hand across my tender, newly formed scars, and I let out a small moan as he touched one of the worst.

“I'm not sorry,” I whispered.

He bowed down so that his cheek was against my bare waist, and he closed his eyes. “You're not sorry for letting me … inflict these
marks
on you?” He breathed against my skin.

“No,” I choked out. My throat was so dry.

He remained there for a few more moments before stretching back up. Using his knees, he nudged my legs apart and wrapped them around his waist.

“You're not sorry for bonding me back to you with your blood?” His fingers trailed down the outside of my thigh.

“No.”

He lowered himself so that his lips were next to my ear. “They know you're alive now, don't they?”

I swallowed hard and nodded softly.

He hovered, and as he began to lift himself up, I found myself instinctively squeezing my thighs around his hips, holding him there. His dark hair fell over his temples, and he looked at me with uncertainty. “You're not sorry for the decision you stole from me? For what this means for you now?”

“No.”

“Then tell me,
do you remember me
?”

I looked everywhere except at him, but my thighs squeezed the truth tightly as I let the lie leave my lips. “No.”

He lingered for a moment, but then grabbed my legs firmly and pushed me away. He stood up, tugging the back of his hair. “So, you decided to risk yourself out of what exactly? Guilt? Debt? Pity?” He didn't let me respond. “I hate you,” he hissed.

Hesitantly, I sat up. “No, you don't.” I coughed. “You're just upset.”

“I am not upset. I. Am. Desolate.”

I crept off the side of the bed and reached for the top of his shoulder. “There's a fine line between love and hate, or so they say. I do understand.”

Jonah's body became rigid. Eventually he turned around and began ruffling his fingers through my short, messy hair. Bringing me in close, he trailed his fingers over the scar running down my back. I winced and he pulled away. “It might well be a fine line,” Jonah said, “but it's not one I'm treading, and I never really did. It was your blood before, only ever your blood. And now, connected to you or not, how could I want you? Look at the state of you.”