Messenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels (31 page)

Juliette screamed, “Noooo!” She found herself rushing forward before she knew what she was doing. All she was consciously aware of was that she didn’t want Gabriel to die. She couldn’t stand the thought of him being shot again. Not even once more. Not when she could do something to stop it.

She ducked her head, using her shoulder like a football player. Using every ounce of her strength, she slammed into Mitchell’s tall body, spinning as she did so. The unexpected impact gave her enough momentum to turn them both and keep going. One step, two . . . The third crumbled beneath their booted feet as the cliff gave way underneath them.

Juliette closed her eyes when the sky opened up to embrace her. She’d been here before. She remembered the feeling. The air was open; there were no footholds or handholds in space. Time slowed. It very nearly stopped.

She sensed Mitchell pulling away from her, his own body falling as hers was. She let him go. It would be over soon.

There were precious seconds remaining. An eternity—and certainly long enough for her final, perfect sentiment.

I love you, Gabriel.
Maybe they would meet again. She loved him, after all.
And I always will.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

W
hat in the world could make Gabriel turn his back on a man like the Adarian he was fighting now? . . . It was a phantom of a thought, floating like a ghost in the back of his mind as he spun around, doing that very thing. But then he had his answer. It tumbled over the cliff in the form of a beautiful young woman, long hair flying, eyes closing, her body clutching to the enemy to take him down with her.

There was a sound, ripped from somewhere deep inside of him, but he didn’t consciously make it. He only knew he was moving faster than he had ever moved before, following the image that took his heart with it.

He didn’t reach her in time. Not to stop her. But his body, propelled by a love and loss too great to deny, left the safety of the ground along with her. He fell after her, clutching at empty air, his mind blacking out on all emotion save one.

That one emotion ripped him apart from the inside. It tore him open and left him gaping as he fell, exposed as he had never been exposed before.

A lifetime—several—passed before he’d made it far enough to touch her. Gabriel looked upon her lovely face, her closed lids, and her furrowed brow, and the world melted around them. His hand slipped around her wrist as the cliff face blurred beside them and the wind whipped through her hair. It was a final connection. If they were going to die this time, they would do so together.

Juliette opened her eyes. Gabriel’s consciousness froze in confusion. Her eyes were glowing. Their hazel brilliance now burned like gemstones, luminous lamps of amber and emerald so lovely, he literally stopped breathing. It wouldn’t matter in a moment; the world was about to end.

But Juliette blinked her glowing eyes and he felt her hand upon his cheek, warm and soft and pure. “I love you.” She mouthed the words, but he couldn’t hear them. The wind stole them from her.

They echoed in his mind.

“And I love you, lass,” he whispered. They were words he had never strung together in that order before. Not until now.

Now,
he thought.
Now we hit bottom—one hundred feet down. It’s over.
He would not survive the fall. And if he did, he wouldn’t want to—not without his archess. As his last act upon the earth, he used his grip on Juliette’s wrist to pull her to him, hauling her into his arms to hold her tight.

He closed his eyes, his hand spanning the small of her back. And he waited.

And waited.

. . . and waited.

“Gabriel,” came her soft voice, whispered across the curve of his neck.

Gabriel’s hand moved up her back and stopped, sensing something different. It felt like a warp in the air, warm and nearly solid. Gabriel frowned, feeling strange. His body felt slightly numb. He no longer sensed the wind buffeting him. The sound of it was fading, being replaced by something oddly hollow. Like an echo.

He opened his eyes.

The cliff’s blurring face was gone. The ocean’s white-capped waves, frozen in waiting time, were gone. The night and its full moon were gone. The world had disappeared and all that remained were Gabriel and his archess standing together in a space of white fog and nothingness.

“Where are we?” Juliette asked. Her words bounced against the nothingness and were swallowed in its cotton.

“Nowhere,” Gabriel replied. He knew what was happening. But the knowledge was like a slow drug, and its piggybacking epiphany of joy was gradual, as if affected to a sluggishness by the dense mist around them. “No’ anymore,” he whispered. “No’ yet.”

And then he looked down at the woman in his arms and gradually let her go. For the second time in the space of the last few eternal seconds, he could not believe his eyes. “Juliette . . . ,” he gasped, utterly breathless at what he beheld. “My God . . .” His hand came up to cup her cheek. He could say nothing further.

There were no words.

Her archess eyes were glowing again, more stunning than anything he had ever seen. But even more bewildering were the massive brown and green wings solidifying at her back. The air warped around her, the shape of the wings shimmering and iridescent until, finally, they hardened into reality and Gabriel felt tears on his cheeks.

“My angel,” he rasped, his breathing ragged with emotion.

“Gabriel,” she whispered, and he watched as her own glowing eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears. “You . . . have wings.”

It was hard, but Gabriel managed to pull his eyes off her form in order to glance over his shoulder. And she was right. Behind him in each direction stretched the magnificent plumage of two massive raven-black wings, run through with streaks of stark silver. “Wha’ do you know?” he whispered, too struck with awe to say much else. Everything was happening so quickly.

He recognized it all now. Uriel and Eleanore had gone through the same thing. The two had shared the experience shortly afterward and the other three archangel brothers were treated to a preview of what they might expect once they found their own archesses. This was Gabriel’s “choice.” He was here with Juliette now to make a decision: stay on Earth or return to his realm with his archess. He couldn’t believe it. It was truly coming to pass. It wasn’t a joke, he wasn’t being teased, and it wasn’t a dream.

He looked back at Juliette. “You have them, too, luv.”

She blinked, her pink lips parting with a catch in her breath.

“Go on, then,” he said, tilting her head gently to the side with a curled finger beneath her chin. “See for yourself.”

She turned and shrugged her shoulder. Her gasp indicated that she could see them. “Oh my God . . .” Her voice trailed off in wonder. “What— How—”

“You sacrificed yourself to save me,” Gabriel said. He knew that now. It must have been why she had rushed the Adarian. He could feel it in his bones. “Didn’t you, luv?” he asked softly.

Juliette turned back to look up at him with those incredible glowing eyes and he had to fight not to tremble. She was humbling him. He didn’t deserve her.

She didn’t answer. But when she blushed and ducked her head, he knew it was true. “And that’s why we’re here,” he said, curling his finger beneath her chin once more. She turned her eyes to him again and he smiled. “Juliette, my sweet angel.”

He had no more words and even if he’d had them, he no longer wanted to speak. Right now, all he wanted to do was kiss her. Hold her. He wanted to know, for once and for all, that everything he was seeing was real.

So he bent over her and she closed her eyes. His lips brushed hers with a featherlight tenderness befitting angels. And then he pressed into her, claiming her mouth with his own, parting her lips and tasting her deeply. She was real.

She was very, very real. She was his archess and she would soon be his wife and he would make a home for them both. In Caledonia.

* * *

It never failed. Every time Gabriel kissed her, the rest of Juliette’s world melted away. It didn’t seem to matter what else might be happening. He simply subjugated her every sense, taking over without mercy. His kiss was a mandate, a cage, a lock and key—and as he tore down her defenses and ripped away her world, she could swear she heard the
click
as he bound her to him forever.

Her body heated up, her core melted, and she grew wet for him. A moan of longing and pleasure bubbled up from inside of her and he swallowed it, fisting his hands in her hair as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Someone cleared his throat.

Juliette stilled, feeling strange suddenly. Their surroundings had changed. Sound was coming in at them once again: the wind, the waves. The air was colder. Gabriel was still kissing her, but the urgency of the kiss had lessened a little. He apparently sensed it, too.

Juliette opened her eyes as he slowly pulled away, lowering his hands.

“This is a familiar scene,” said Michael from where he stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, his grin a mile wide. “Nice wings,” he said, winking at Juliette.

She had no breath with which to speak at that moment; Gabriel had more or less taken it all. But she did manage to glance over her shoulder again. Vast brown and green wings unfurled from the center of her back.
Wings,
she thought.
I’ve really got wings.

Tentatively, and not at all sure of the strangeness of the musculature, she tried to move them. They responded beautifully, curling forward and brushing their feathers along the ground—and then extending again until they were raised high on either side of her in exultation. She couldn’t help but laugh then. The sensation was incredible.

“I have wings!” She giggled the words, turning once more to look up into Gabriel’s glowing silver gaze. He was staring down at her with immense pride, his grin ear to ear. His own wings flicked behind his back and drew Juliette’s wide-eyed gaze once more.

They were stunning, much more so than hers, in her opinion. Out here, in the black of night, they made him look like the tall, dark archangel he truly was. It was fitting. His colossal wingspan stretched more than ten feet in either direction. His feathers were a deep, dark pitch, shot through with marbles of silver that made them shimmer in the moonlight.

Juliette shook her head. This was all too much.

But then she frowned. Something niggled at her brain. It was quiet around them. Hadn’t there been a battle going on only seconds ago?

Her eyes widened; she spun around, searching for Abraxos and his Adarians. But the cliff top was empty. A massive gash had been ripped into it from below and rocks and debris had been strewn all over it. However, the General and his men were missing.

She stepped around Gabriel and he let her go, turning with her. Max and Uriel stood to one side. Uriel’s wings were gone. She wondered how he made them disappear. She supposed she would be learning very soon.

Both Uriel and Max watched her in silence. Max smiled a proud smile and Uriel nodded at Juliette’s wings, chuckling softly.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where is everyone?”

“Once you fell off of the cliff, the Adarians began disappearing again,” Uriel told her.

“And you’ve probably been gone a little longer than you think you have,” Michael added. “It was the same way with Uriel and Ellie.”

Juliette thought about that. The Adarians had disappeared? How did they manage that? She had a thousand questions, but they were stilled in her mind when she caught sight of the fourth archangel brother. He stood alone to one side, leaning against a tall boulder. His figure was partially hidden in shadow and his amber gold eyes reflected the moonlight with supernatural eeriness. Juliette could see that his black trench coat was stained wet in places. She swallowed hard.

He straightened and came away from the shadows then, a tall shadow of a man himself, utterly at one with the darkness. His boot stepped out into a shaft of moonlight, illuminating his impressive frame. Blood smeared his neck and part of his beautiful face.

Azrael had been fighting Abraxos. The two were probably the most powerful supernatural creatures on the planet other than Samael. They’d gone head-to-head, tooth and nail—and Azrael’s still, calm facade could not hide the crimson evidence of the viciousness of that battle. Juliette wondered what had happened. Whose life liquid stained Azrael’s clothing—the General’s or Azrael’s?

Az’s golden gaze skirted to the wings at Juliette’s back—and then to those that graced the back of his brother. A small smile curled his perfect lips, a smile that almost reached his eyes.

His gaze returned to Juliette and he nodded once, slowly, as if in reverence. “Welcome,” he said, his deep voice rumbling across the cliff’s top with mesmerizing grace.
You are a very resourceful woman, Juliette,
his voice continued, but this time in her mind alone.
Intelligent, powerful, and kind. You are a true archess.

Juliette wasn’t sure what to say to that. But it turned out it didn’t matter because Az cocked his head then and cut his gaze to Max, who had been watching him with an almost wary kind of care.

“I need blood,” he said simply.

Juliette shivered.

Azrael’s gold gaze sliced back to her. The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Of course,” Max said softly. “We’ll see you back at the mansion.”

Az nodded once more and stepped back into the shadows. Juliette watched with wide eyes as his form seemed to melt into the darkness until she could no longer make it out. Within seconds, the unsettling reflection of his eyes was gone. And so was he.

“Wow,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He sure has a lot of powers.”

“Indeed,” Max muttered, coming to stand before her. Gently, he grasped her by her upper arms and smiled down at her. “I never had any doubts that you had survived the fall, Juliette,” he said softly. “I saw what you did. You sacrificed yourself for Gabriel—not once, but twice.”

Juliette frowned up at him, not understanding.

But his smile never wavered and he went on. “You removed the bracelet,” he said as his hands slid down her arms until he was taking her hands in his and turning her wrist over. The bracelet was gone.

Juliette shrugged. The tiny gesture was repeated with her shining, downlike wings, drawing a deep, wonderful chuckle from Gabriel. She glanced up at him and he gave her a knowing look.

“That, in and of itself, was enough for you to prove your love for Gabriel,” Max said.

“Aye,” Gabriel agreed, grinning widely. “Bu’ she’s a strong Scottish lass an’ one manner of proof was no’ enough for her, was it, luv?” He chuckled again, brushing the back of his forefinger down her cheek.

Juliette shivered again, but this time in pleasure.

“Okay, I think we’ve been on this windy precipice long enough,” Uriel interrupted. They turned to watch as he strode across the hilltop in the direction of the golf course that Abraxos had said was over the rise.

Max, who Juliette noticed was no longer dressed in fatigues but was once more wearing a brown suit and glasses, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Ah, Scotland,” he said, as he looked around before following Uriel. The moon reflected off the lenses of his glasses. “I grew up here, you know,” he said. “Jus’ up the road in Aberdeen.” He chuckled and Juliette stared at him as his accent changed from American to a Scottish brogue in a heartbeat.