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Authors: Claire Ashgrove

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Gothic, #Paranormal

Immortal Surrender (25 page)

BOOK: Immortal Surrender
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Not an oceanic boat.

Yet the trace minerals showed a high volume of sand. Grains she’d seen before, in the region surrounding Egypt, and further east near Syria. Slight differences separated the soil from the area’s counterparts of Iraq, Iran, and Turkey—a lesson she’d learned through humiliation when as an intern she erroneously pronounced a recovered piece of pottery originated in what was now Baghdad. Her superior hadn’t hesitated to prove her negligence by throwing the archaeological documents into her lap, documenting it as a piece discovered in an Egyptian pharaoh’s tomb. For the next several months, he refused to allow her to work alone.

She chewed on her lower lip, absorbed in thought. There were plenty of freshwater rivers in the area, but again her data lacked the specific brackish qualities. For all intents and purposes, what soaked into this slat was as pure as a gallon of distilled water.

What could possibly have originated in the area and floated on a body of water large enough to saturate the splinters, yet contain no salt? She’d already proved the thing still floated, terminating the possibility someone had retrieved it from the bottom of a lake.

Even then, lakes large enough to support a boat in the region it indicated would have held a degree of salt.

On a sigh, she set the slat down and reached for the other object eluding her. She ignored the ancient word etched crudely into the surface. What it said meant nothing. Anyone could have carved
Jesus
for any number of reasons. Not to mention the name wasn’t terribly uncommon.

The properties of this small plaque, however, paired too neatly with the slat. Almost as if they had been made by the same hands. Only, the plaque’s age corresponded to the date on the Sudarium.

Another factor she didn’t care to consider.

What intrigued her more was the same cedar/cypress blend of wood and the same disconcerting organic matter that paired the origin. If she worked with it long enough, she’d find the link that tied them together.

A knock at the door made her jump. She cringed as the plaque clattered to the floor. Bending to pick it up, she called out, “Come in.”

“Hey.” Anne’s melodic voice accompanied the opening of the door. She moved to stand behind Noelle and peeked over her shoulder. “Hard at work?”

Noelle placed the plaque beside the slat and absently gave Anne a nod. “What do you know about these things? Are there records that document where they were found? Where they originated?” She tapped the shiny metal machine. “Do you know where Gabriel came up with this equipment? I’m not familiar with the model and my lab needs this. It works at double the speed.”

At Anne’s light laugh, Noelle looked up. Drawn from her immersion into the scientific realm, she struggled to find a smile and straightened her glasses. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just preoccupied.”

“I would be too.” Anne grinned as she swept her hand toward the rows of shelves. “You should feel lucky. I wasn’t allowed down here until I took my oath. You must be pretty special.”

Noelle detected a degree of censure in Anne’s words and shifted against the uncomfortable weight. “I, ah…”

With an elbow in Noelle’s side, Anne laughed again. “Relax, I’m teasing. I don’t know where Gabriel found the equipment, but what did you find?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, put it aside. I’m here to free you from your prison.”

Noelle lifted an eyebrow. “Free me?”

“Yep. Mikhail’s ordered you to learn how to defend yourself.”

Uneasiness tightened the base of Noelle’s spine. Defend herself? If she needed defense lessons, someone threatened her. Though this place was more than a little odd, she hadn’t felt unsafe. Who would with giant-size men and swords all over the place? “Um. To what?”

“C’mon.” Anne slid a hand beneath Noelle’s armpit and tugged her to her feet. “I’ll show you. Swords are kinda fun. But I need to see if my armor fits you. Did Farran give you the tour?”

Unable to find her tongue through her confusion, Noelle echoed, “The tour?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Anne grinned again as she opened the door. “Obviously you’ve seen everything down here—it’s the nicest part of the temple. You’ll want to stay away from the men’s chambers. At least until you’re oathed. But upstairs, on the main level, you can go pretty much wherever you please.”

With little choice but to follow, Noelle struggled to match Anne’s quicker stride. Still caught up in the oddities of the relics, her mind twisted in such a mess she could only dumbly repeat Anne. “The men’s chambers?”

“Upstairs. The stone corridors.”

“Oh.” Inwardly, she cringed. A fool could have made the connection, given all the doors. “Right. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s a little hard to do that when you first get here.”

Anne made it impossible for Noelle to berate herself. Under the redhead’s continual smile and her easy laughter, Noelle’s embarrassment faded. She fell into a comfortable pace, and mounted the stairs at Anne’s side. Her curiosity got the better of her, and slipping Anne a sideways glance, she asked, “Why did you stay?”

“The relics. I wanted to know what they found.” With a conspiratorial wink, she added, “And Merrick was good in bed.”

Her bluntness sent a rush of heat to Noelle’s cheeks. She dipped her head, hiding her blush with her hair, and grabbed for an appropriate response.

Anne saved her once again with a reassuring squeeze of Noelle’s forearm. “I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” Noelle stammered. “It’s okay. I’m just not used to such honesty.”

“The truth is, I wanted to stay.” Anne rounded the landing and pointed at the stairs that led to the main level. “It took me awhile to realize I wanted to stay forever, but I was never opposed to a short visit. I had to fall in love before I knew I couldn’t leave.”

“And you don’t miss home?”

“This is home. I hope you’ll come to think of it that way too. It’d be nice to have another woman around.”

Doubtful.
She might have an amazing lab to play in and a room full of artifacts that could occupy her for months, but it didn’t change the fact home was in Washington, D.C. Unlike Anne, Noelle didn’t have a guy trying to convince her to stay either.

She stumbled as she took a step. What the hell was she thinking? Even if she did have a man sweet-talking her, she wouldn’t consider staying in this place. She wasn’t that desperate.

Anne grabbed Noelle’s elbow, steadying her. “You okay?”

Noelle summoned a grin, along with a shrug. “Just clumsy.”

“Well, we’ll work on that. We can’t have you stabbing yourself in the thigh.”

Another grin stirred Noelle’s humor, and she found herself laughing. “That would be my luck.” Although, to her credit, when she’d taken fencing in high school, she hadn’t been half bad, even though she hated every minute of it.

“If that happens, Farran will never forgive me. Here, come this way. This is the entertainment room. Over there”—Anne pointed at the arches Farran had led her through earlier—“is the dining hall. Meals are served at six, twelve, and six. Right now, they’re pretty simple, but I’m working with Simon on some new chefs and new menus. Give me another month, and meals will be edible.”

Noelle glanced around at the conglomeration of oversized sofas, recliner chairs, and rough-hewn wooden tables. The wide-screen television at the far end sat dark, as unused as the furniture. Strange they’d have such niceties and rarely use them. Seth was always carrying on about football and beer and having the guys over.

Her expression must have revealed her confusion, for Anne explained, “The men haven’t ever really embraced modern conveniences. They shoot some pool, but they’d rather train in the yard when they aren’t out watching the gates.”

“The gates?”

“Yes.” Anne opened her mouth to say more, then covered her words with a smile. “I’ll let Farran explain the gates.”

Noelle shrugged. Probably better not to hear more talk of the supernatural and unexplainable coincidences. Beyond the fact her mind had experienced more than enough for one day, the idea of spoiling an amicable conversation left a stale taste in her mouth. As long as she could pretend Anne was normal, she could like her.

“Let’s go see if my armor fits you, and I’ll show you the other things on the way to the indoor commons.” Without waiting for Noelle’s response, she hurried her up the stairs to their neighboring rooms. “Merrick’s already waiting on us,” she said as she motioned Noelle through the door.

Absent or not, Merrick’s presence hit Noelle like a physical force. His cologne lingered in the air. A shirt lay draped across the back of a chair. In the corner, a tall stand supported chain mail that matched Farran’s, complete with an identical white surcoat. Noelle’s gaze pulled to the couch where an afghan lay in disarray. Beside it, tucked against the foot of the couch, two pairs of socks nestled together—one fuzzy and feminine, the other large and masculine.

Each way she turned, something that marked this room as much his as Anne’s caught her eye. A belt on the bed, the open wardrobe that exposed both his clothes amid Anne’s skirts. In the bathroom, their razors sat side by side—Anne’s pink and lavender, Merrick’s chrome and black.

The merging of belongings struck a chord of longing in Noelle’s heart. What would it feel like to share everything with a man? To have someone be as much a part of life, as all the things that identified someone? They slept in the same bed, a treat Noelle had enjoyed for a scarce few minutes before Farran spoiled it all. How would it feel to spend every morning waking to kisses like the one he’d shared with her?

“Over here.”

Anne’s voice pulled Noelle from the wanderings of her mind, and she followed the sound to a small closet in the corner of the bedroom. Inside, Anne tugged on a heavy padded vest. She thrust it at Noelle with a grin. “Try this.”

One look at the garment, and Noelle knew it wouldn’t fit. Anne’s bust exceeded hers by at least a full size. No way would that thing begin to do anything else but hang like a bulky sack. Nevertheless, she held her arms out and allowed Anne to slip it on her. Her fingers quickly worked the laces along the sides, snugging the strands of leather tight. When they would close no further, she stepped back with a frown.

“Well, it’s a little big. But it’ll work until Raphael can have one made in your size.”

It would work? Noelle glanced down at the weighty covering with doubt. If she had to execute any move of skill, the darn thing would fall down to her elbows. A wry smirk tugged at her mouth. She shouldn’t care. It’d just be another example of how terribly she lacked grace.

“Now what?”

“Now we go to the yard. We’ll work with wooden swords today. But Merrick won’t wait to pair you with metal. A couple days at most, and you’ll have your own short sword.”

Joy. She’d been overjoyed to quit fencing and be free of all the aches and pains. But this had to be better than sitting in her chambers alone all night. If relearning swords gave her company until she could tell Farran about the Sudarium and go home, she’d put up with it.

Anne elbowed open the door. “Merrick won’t take it easy on you just because you’re new either. Expect to go to bed sore.”

“I’m really not too sure about this, Anne,” Noelle protested at the top of the stairs.

Anne hesitated and looked over her shoulder. Her blue eyes hardened. Her voice lost its lighthearted lilt. “You are a seraph, Noelle, whether you want to believe it or not. Azazel, the Lord of Darkness, will do all he can to kill you. Farran has sworn to protect you, and you were chosen to save him. To do so, you must protect yourself.”

An unexplainable shudder wafted down Noelle’s spine and needled particles of ice through her veins. Anne’s tone, the absolute conviction in her expression, left little room to accuse her of being crazy. Yet she couldn’t possibly be right. The Lord of Darkness? Even what little Noelle recalled of Sunday school said Satan was the master of evil. For that matter, she couldn’t even remember hearing the name Azazel.

“Hurry, there’s a movie on I want to see tonight. It starts in an hour.” Anne’s joviality returned along with her bright smile. She rushed down the stairwell, forcing Noelle to take the stairs in double time.

As they reached the main floor, the front door swung open and a dark-haired man stepped inside. He glanced around, his eyes darting wildly until they came to rest on Anne. For a moment, he looked as if he might smile. But the pull at the corners of his mouth disappeared as quickly as they stirred. “Is Merrick present?”

Anne answered with a slow, tenacious nod. “He is. But it wouldn’t be wise to approach him, Tane. Can I help?”

Tane twisted his hands together, then shoved them into his pockets. He shifted his weight, looked at his boots. “I wanted to discuss the money.”

“Oh that.” Anne chuckled softly. “Don’t worry about it, Tane. I’ll talk to Merrick and get it for you. I promise. But you should go. Before someone sees you here.”

Hope lit vivid green eyes, and the smile he’d tried to contain broke free. “You will contact me?”

Moving closer, Anne gave his arm a squeeze. “Of course. What you’re doing’s noble. Merrick knows that. He just doesn’t want to see you.”

“Very well then, milady. I shall await your call.” With only the briefest curiosity, he looked to Noelle before vanishing out the door.

Noelle turned to Anne, eyebrows lifted.

“That was Tane.” She chewed on her lower lip, her expression tight with concern. After several seconds of silence, she explained, “The men here all suffer from tragedy. The longer they live, the more difficult it becomes to separate from those issues. It’s why Farran’s always angry. Why Lucan is suspicious…” She trailed off, her stare fastened on the closed door. “And why Tane kidnapped me.”

“Kidnapped you?” Disbelief lifted Noelle’s voice several decibels. “He
kidnapped
you, and you’re helping him? My word, Anne, just what kind of crap did they feed you here to make you think that’s okay?”

“You’ll understand in time.” With a wag of her fingers, she beckoned Noelle down the hall. “Tane is trying to open a shelter for homeless teens. The Order has money like you wouldn’t believe. He can’t help himself, and working with those kids gives him purpose. I’ve seen how they respect him. He can make a difference.”

BOOK: Immortal Surrender
12.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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