Messenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels (21 page)

He gazed down at the woman he now claimed as his own. Her long, rich brown hair cascaded over the white blankets beneath her like a shimmering, tigereye waterfall. Her green eyes smoldered beneath heavy lids, her long, thick lashes demurely brushing against the tops of her flushed cheeks. Her lips, bruised by his kisses, were parted and panting.

Her hands on his chest slid to his shoulders as if to hang on. She had good instincts, because he lowered his head, his silver gaze stark through the tops of his eyes as his body tensed and he pulled back—just a little.

Uncertainty flickered in her beautiful green eyes. Anticipation.

He drove back in, shoving into his angel with hard strength, knowing only that he wanted to be deeper. Closer.

Juliette arched beneath him, crying out in both surprise and ecstasy. He didn’t give her time to adjust. He pulled back again—and drove forward once more as he bent over her, running his hand into her hair and yanking her head gently back to expose her throat to his teeth. Her cries became gasps, and then moans, and the small sounds of helpless delight that escaped her pink lips filled Gabriel with intense triumph.

He kissed her neck, and then bit it gently, allowing his teeth to graze across her taut flesh until he reached the top of her shoulder. There, he sucked hard, leaving a mark. She gasped at the small attack and he chuckled against her, rearing back to drive ruthlessly forward, silencing her outcry with a loud gasp of pleasure.

He took her like this, mercilessly and tenderly, forcing himself into her over and over again, claiming her body with firm conviction. And she grasped at his shoulders and curled her nails into his back as if to hold on for dear life.

Gabriel slid his hand between them as he rode her and pressed his fingers into her soft mound of curls, parting them with knowing resolve. A harsh sob of bliss escaped her throat when he found the hood of her clitoris and pressed inward and downward, driving himself into her at the same time. The sharp sensation stole Juliette’s breath, and again, Gabriel smiled against her throat, his body humming deliciously as she responded to his tiny tortures.

She tried to say his name, but lost the sound when he pressed again, moving in a slow circle that hardened her button and made her shake in his grasp. He could feel himself swelling within her, her tightness a gluttonous kind of friction that was sure to drive him mad.

His gaze raked across her body, her rising and falling breasts, her expanding rib cage that protected a racing heart. Juliette panted and mumbled incoherently. He pressed deeper and she writhed. He flicked his thumb across her bud and she moaned low and long. He placed his lips to the pulse in the side of her throat and felt it speeding rapidly. His tongue flicked out across it. He sensed her time coming and compelled her on.

“You’re mine, lass. Now and forever,” he told her, as his fingers continued to wreak havoc on her senses. He parted his fingers between them, surrounding her sensitive nub, and then gently squeezed. She bucked in his grasp and he pressed on, forcing her over that precipice.

Juliette’s head flew back, her eyes squeezed shut, her white teeth bared, as waves of orgasmic pleasure rushed through her. He could feel her wringing him tightly, yanking a growl from deep within his chest. He rose above her, and propelled himself forward, taking her now as he had wanted to since he’d first seen her in that tavern several nights ago.

Her small body moved beneath him, her head thrown back and her nails finding painful purchase in the muscle of his back. He gritted his teeth, torn wide open by the colossal, intense sensation she was awakening within him.

Lightning crashed out over the sea and thunder rolled over them as he took Juliette. He took her hard and fast and howled into the night when he felt himself explode within her. It was too strong, too severe, and it was the answer to his prayers. He jerked against her, overrun with passion. She cried out as his hot seed began to spill within her, searing her from the inside.

Lightning crashed again, closer this time, and Gabriel let Juliette go to fist his hands once more in the sheet on either side of her. It stretched taut beneath his death grip, its seams splitting as he threw back his head and roared with the sweet, perfect agony of his peak.

It seemed to last forever. And he never wanted it to end.

An eternity later, the pulsing stopped, the throbbing ended, and Gabriel slowly lowered his head. Juliette gazed up at him with half-closed eyes, her breathing once more steadying, her grip on his back easing up. As he was an archangel, any marks she made on him would heal quickly. And for that small moment, he wished he were only human so that he could wear the scars with pride.

She was so beautiful. Gabriel stared down at her, struck dumb again by what he was seeing. Never, in his long existence, had he beheld such a wonderful creature. It was bewildering. She was everything he had ever loved—she was the most beautiful woman in Caledonia. She
was
Caledonia.

His bonnie Juliette . . . “Och, lass, wha’ will I do with you?” he whispered, suddenly overtaken with emotion.

Juliette didn’t answer. But when he moved to lie down beside her, rolling her over so that he remained within her, her eyes widened. He had yet to go soft inside of her. Her very nearness was keeping him from doing so.

“Gabriel,” she gasped. “How can you—”

He cut off her question with a kiss, cupping her lovely face in his hands. And because he was a glutton for punishment, he moved within her, pressing against her with a desire that was already hardening him with a vengeance. She moaned in response, a helpless sound of reawakening lust.

He broke the kiss long enough to gaze into her still-green eyes. “Get used to it, luv.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I
t was all around her again: the past. All her life, these dreams had been draped in the cloth of memory, as gauzy and faint as the curtains Gabriel had hung. But now the past was solid, tangible, and nontransparent. There were no overlapping images, no hint of the present in the form of crumbling castle walls.

Instead, there was a castle as it once had been, in all its glory. The halls were lit with torches and decorated with tapestries. The smell of a large dinner meal was heavy in the air. The sounds of a household in full swing were everywhere. Servants bustled by Juliette, nodding politely as they went.

Juliette nodded back and continued to make her way down the hall. She was heading for the kitchens. She reached the massive archway that led to the kitchens and the cooking aromas intensified a hundredfold. There were white feathers on the stone floor, someone was pulling bread out of a massive stone oven, and an old woman sat beside a glassless window peeling potatoes.

Juliette moved past them and out the back door. The night was coming on them quick, but when Juliette looked left, toward the treacherous cliffs that protected the east face of the castle, the glow from a swinging light caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks and squinted through the gathering darkness and creeping fog. The lamplight hovered above the edge of the cliff—and then disappeared, ducking down beneath the rocks that plummeted to the sea a hundred feet below.

Alarm shot through her. Juliette gathered her skirts and began to run. She tripped over a patch of thistle, barely caught herself in time, and continued to run, lifting her legs higher this time. But the light was fading, and at once, she realized she couldn’t see the dividing line between cliff—and sky.

She slowed her steps, skidding a bit as loose gravel crumbled beneath her boots and went tripping over the cliff’s rocky ledge to disappear below. Juliette was breathing hard; her heart hammered. Something was wrong. Something niggled at the back of her mind, making her fingers tingle and her legs grow weak

She quieted her breath and listened. When the crashing waves receded and grew fainter, she could make out the sound of men’s voices—down below. Carefully, she got down onto her hands and knees and then lowered herself onto her stomach. Deftly, she pulled herself to the ledge and peeked one eye over the black rocks.

She had been right. It was a lantern she’d seen. There was a rowboat in the tiny cove and there were half a dozen men milling about on the wet rocks.
Smugglers,
Juliette thought. The authorities of Cruden Bay had recently been out to the castle, looking for signs of them.

The smugglers were carrying crates full of bottles. Though netting and cloth covered most of the boxes, Juliette could see the outline of several of the bottles sticking out beneath the full moon. The men were setting these boxes into the small caves that had been formed over time by the rising and lowering water. The tide was moving in with the coming night and the men seemed to know it; they were working quickly. Juliette wondered what was in the bottles.

And then one of the men looked up. Juliette scooted back, her breath caught in her throat, her heart leaping painfully. There was a shout from below and she knew she’d been seen.

Quickly, she shoved herself up and spun around. But as she did, her skirts got caught beneath her boot. The rocks crumbled once more, slip-sliding down the face of the cliffs. She had just enough time to realize she was falling, to feel the open air around her and the lack of gravity, before her body was wrenched violently in several directions at once.

“Juliette!”

The wrenching continued, but it was gentler now. Confusion danced around Juliette in colorful motes and darkness. She tried to blink them away, but chaos lingered, making up down and down up, and her fingers clutched something warm and hard as she desperately tried to hold on.

I’m falling. . . .

“Shh, lass, I’m here,” crooned a deep, accented voice. She knew that voice. She clung to it, closing her eyes to let it wrap around her in place of the torment that had tried to pull her apart.

Gabriel . . .
His arms were wrapped around her, tight and secure. His warm, strong body was pressed against hers, instantly chasing away her chill, keeping the distress of her dream at bay.
My dream,
she thought.
No. It was more than that.

My memory . . . my death.

“Lass, wha’ were you dreamin’?” Gabriel asked, his tone infinitely concerned. His words whispered across the top of her head, his fingers deftly, gently brushing her long hair out of her eyes. She kept them shut, willing the rest of the world away. She couldn’t answer him. Her heart was still beating too hard and she felt a little sick.

“All right, little one,” he whispered, slowly rocking her back and forth. “It’s all right.”

It wasn’t until several minutes of rocking, comforting silence had passed that Juliette found the will to open her eyes. She saw the bed first, then the crumbling castle walls with their tapestries and the open windows with their white curtains billowing in the breeze—and then she looked up at Gabriel. The full moon hung ominously low over his broad shoulder, reflecting the flashing silver in his eyes. His expression was starkly concerned.

“Och, lass, you’re shakin’,” he said softly, curling his fingers beneath her chin as if to get a better look at her.

I remember it,
she thought.
God, I remember it all. . . .

“Wha’s hauntin’ you?” he asked, leaning forward to gently place a kiss on her forehead. Juliette closed her eyes and absorbed it, allowing it to chase away a bit more of her memory. His thumb tenderly brushed along her cheekbone. She opened her eyes. “Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I’ve been here before,” she said then. Her tone was flat, her voice strange. She kept going. “I’ve been to Slains Castle.”

Gabriel frowned, shaking his head slightly. “When, lass?”

“That’s just it,” she said, choking as a sob worked its way up her throat from her chest. She shoved it back down and shook her head, shrugging. “I don’t know. But . . . it was a long time ago.”

Gabriel looked down at her for a long time. His eyes searched her face, her eyes, almost looking through her. Finally, he cocked his head to one side and took her by her upper arms, squeezing gently. “
How
long ago?”

Juliette steeled herself. She swallowed hard and went still in his grasp. “It was another lifetime, Gabriel,” she whispered. A wave crashed onto the shore beneath the cliffs and then receded again. Juliette stared into Gabriel’s eyes and forced the words past her lips. “I died here.”

* * *

Daniel knew the archangel wouldn’t be able to sense him at this distance, especially with the wind picking up the way it was. It looked as though a storm was on the way, building just out over the water beyond the cliffs of Cruden Bay. He was safely sequestered in the darkness behind a copse on the opposite side of the road from where Gabriel had parked his little red rental car. Out here, he didn’t have to use his invisibility, which would allow him to save his strength.

He would need that strength. Gabriel’s brothers had all been out there earlier in the night, each of them using their unique and strange ability to “teleport” to get here. For some reason, they had needed the car—Daniel had no idea what that was all about. He was positive that the vehicle was a rental and that there was nothing special about it.

Clearly, there was much about the Four Favored that Daniel and his brothers didn’t understand. But it didn’t matter right now. Gabriel’s brothers were gone and had been for hours. The former Messenger was alone with his archess in that castle and Daniel knew damned well what they’d been doing.

So, he bided his time. When the full moon was high and bright in the sky, Daniel draped himself in invisibility and made his way quickly down the path, being sure to keep a wide berth of the castle. He’d lost one of his shard guns in the jailhouse when he’d attacked Gabriel, but he’d left the Adarian headquarters with two, and he still had the other.

As he approached the castle’s north side, he noticed a glow from somewhere deeper within the stone structure. He wasn’t surprised. It was a cold night and they had probably started a fire.

But as he drew closer still, he noticed that it was more than just the glow that was off. There were subtle details—the paths had been neatly cleared, some of the walls seemed stabilized, and he could actually catch the hint of what looked like curtains billowing in the breeze from somewhere on the second level.

Gabriel and his brothers had been busy, it seemed. How fucking romantic.

Daniel’s gaze narrowed, his will resolved. The plan was simple. He was going to shoot the archangel point-blank until the damn gun was empty. Then he was going to take Juliette, knock her out, and carry her to the cute little red car that Gabriel had so conveniently placed at the end of the trail. He would drive the car a mile, trade it with his own stolen vehicle, and continue until he reached the abandoned building where he had set everything up.

Then he would drain Juliette Anderson dry and drink her blood.

At that thought, dizziness swept over Daniel and he had to stop and rub his cold hand over his hot face. He felt sick at the idea of killing such a precious creature. The archesses were . . . Daniel shook his head. It did no good to dwell on the task ahead of him. He simply needed to do it and be done with it. Once he ingested her blood, as long as he did it right, he would be able to absorb her very special healing power. And with that, he would hopefully become invaluable to his general.

Life could go on as normal. He would no longer have to be afraid that Abraxos would come after him. And he would no longer have to run. It was worth it.

Daniel took a slow, deep breath and continued toward the castle. He could now see that one of the inner rooms had been refurbished. As the rest of the castle rested in ruins, what looked like the master’s chamber had been reinforced, decorated, and warmed by hearth fire.

There was a bed in the room; Daniel could see the figures atop it from where he stood outside the castle walls. The archangel Gabriel sat on the bed, his eyes closed, his archess pulled tightly to his chest. They were both undressed. Daniel wondered why the wind didn’t seem to touch them and chill them to the core.

More archangel magic,
he thought grimly. Or maybe it was the archess herself. He’d heard that they could control the weather. The soft sound of a sob carried to him on the next breeze and Daniel frowned. Juliette was crying. . . . What had happened? Had Gabriel hurt her during their lovemaking?

He fiercely shook his head once, forcing himself not to care.
It doesn’t matter,
he thought.
This is all going to be over soon.

He let his invisibility drop, knowing he would need all his strength and that the cloak wouldn’t protect him from the archangel’s ability to sense him anyway. He was close enough now; it was only a matter of time.

And then Gabriel went utterly still where he sat on the bed. His stark eyes flashed open and gazed over the top of Juliette’s head. Green met silver on what was sure to become a battlefield, and Daniel pulled his gun.

* * *

Gabriel sensed him a half second before he saw him. The static, abrasive sensation was carried to him on the wind and he opened his eyes. The Adarian stood just outside the castle walls, his green eyes narrowed on the couple in the master chamber.

There was no indecision. Gabriel seemed to click into autopilot, all his defenses rising to the occasion. He moved forward on the bed, shoving Juliette behind him, and used his powers to turn the sheet over their bodies to pure gold. It became instantly heavy in his arms, but he was an archangel; such things barely mattered to his kind. He raised the sheet with no time to spare.

The shard blast struck the material, seemed to dilute, and dispersed across the makeshift shield with a crackling energy. However, part of its insidious power wrapped itself around Gabriel’s hand where he held the sheet. He gritted his teeth as his fingers began to solidify.

“Gabriel!” Juliette was on her knees behind him, her hand on his shoulder a death grip.

“Stay behind me!” he commanded. The ancient doorway to the master’s chamber was only a few yards away. Gabriel had never tried to open a portal through a doorway that lacked a door before. In the thousands of years that he and his brothers had used the mansion to travel around the world, it had just never occurred to any of them to try. Would it work now?

Below, the Adarian had disappeared. Whether that meant he was now moving at breakneck speed through the castle on his way to the second floor or he had actually become invisible, Gabriel had no idea. He could still feel the Adarian there. In fact, the nearly painful vibration in the air was becoming stronger.

Gabriel reached back, grabbed Juliette’s arm, and hauled her out of the bed. “Sorry, luv!” he apologized, knowing he was most likely bruising her. But there was no time for gentleness—no time for anything but a rapid escape. Juliette didn’t make a sound. She simply stood with him, trying her best to keep up with his strength and speed. She was a brave lass. A trouper.

Gabriel raised his half-solidified hand toward the archway that had once been a door and concentrated on opening the portal.

At once, he knew something was wrong. It didn’t feel the same. The portal began to swirl to life, as he had hoped, but it was darker—denser. He had wanted to open a doorway into his own home on the shores of Harris. It had been the first place that had occurred to him. However, the image that appeared at the eye of the portal was unfamiliar to him. It was dark and draped in a thick fog. There was an archway there; he could see it as it appeared and disappeared behind the blanket of mist.

A horrid sound ripped through the air behind Gabriel, and Juliette screamed. The shard blast hit him in the back of the neck. Juliette was short enough that she’d been missed altogether. Gabriel had enough time to realize that he couldn’t breathe before a second sound tore through the night, this one far louder than the first.