Redemption (5 page)

“No.”
 
Seneh shakes his head.
 
The muscles in his bare chest ripple beneath his skin as he leans forward, staring long and hard at Gabriel.
 
“There are none like you.”

“Why?”
 
Gabriel stares hard at the angel across from him.
 
“What makes me so different?”

“Roseline,” Seneh says simply.

“What’s this got to do with her?”
 
Gabriel articulates each word carefully to make sure there is no mistaking his determination to know the truth.
 
The muscles in his jaw flinch as he clenches his teeth and waits.
 

Seneh sighs.
 
“I’ve said too much.”

“No.”
 
Gabriel leans forward and grabs hold of his guardian’s arm.
 
“You haven’t said enough.”

Seneh rises to his full height, but Gabriel doesn’t back down.
 
He wants answers.
 
No, he needs them.

“Tell me.”

“It is not my place.”
 
Seneh’s expression is harried as he looks to the door, as if Elias might actually walk through at that exact moment.
 

Gabriel releases his grip on the granite arm.
 
He sinks heavily into the chair, throwing up his hands in despair.
 
“Wait.
 
That’s all I’ve heard since you guys came into my life.”

“I am sorry, young one.”
 
Seneh’s gaze softens as he looks down at Gabriel.

“Yeah,” Gabriel mutters, crossing his arms over his chest as he sighs loudly.
 
“I know.”
 

***

W
arm breath tickles Nicolae’s face as he begins to stir.
 
Sleep grips him, beckoning for him to return, but when a finger traces his bottom lip, Nicolae bolts upright.
 
He cries out, pressing back against the wooden headboard as he comes face to face with Sadie.

She smiles, kneeling beside him.
 
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Am I?”
 
Nicolae blinks, swallowing roughly.
 
“Seeing a ghost?”

“No,” she shakes her head.
 
“I’m real.”

He reaches out to touch her, just to make sure he’s not still dreaming.
 
Her skin is warm and kissed by the sun.
 
Her lips are rosy and fuller than before, or maybe they were always that beautiful and he just never noticed.
 
Her eyes are bright and wide, staring at him with curiosity.

The slope of her neck seems more graceful, the contour of her arms more refined.
 
His gazes travels lower, pausing at her chest long enough to make her chuckle.
 
He flushes red and continues lower.
 
He involuntarily reaches out to touch her stomach, where her torn shirt hangs open, heavy with dried blood.
 
The skin is smooth, without blemish or scar.

“Like what you see?”

He gulps and meets her gaze, completely amazed by her transformation.
 
“You’re stunning.”

“It gets even better.”
 
With a smirk, she places her hands on the mattress and flips backward.
 
She does a full rotation before landing silently on her feet.
 
The wooden floor moves with her weight, giving without a single sound.
 

Nicolae leans toward the edge of the bed, staring wide-eyed at her crouched form.
 
She rises slowly, smirking as she places her hands on her hips.
 
“Impressive, huh?”

He nods, mutely.
 
He struggles to comprehend the beautiful creature standing before him.
 
It’s almost as if her former beauty was slightly blurred, but now she has come into complete focus.

“How do you feel?”

“Amazing.”
 
Her tone is higher, musical like Roseline’s.
 
Nicolae feels himself being drawn from the bed to her side.

“And your thirst?” He presses as he rises from the bed.

Her brow pinches into a frown as her hand rises to her throat.
 
“I…I hadn’t thought about that.”

He hesitantly steps closer.
 
The floor creaks underfoot and he knows Fane will have noticed by now.
 
No doubt he is already on his way.
 
“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Her eyes narrow as he slowly rolls his neck to the side, exposing bare skin.
 
His heart pounds in his chest, thundering in his ears.
 
If Fane didn’t notice their voices before, he is sure to notice the increase in Nicolae’s heartbeat now.

“No.
 
Not really.”
 
She steps closer, her hand outstretched toward him.
 
She bites her lip, and Nicolae nearly loses it.
 
He groans and grabs her hand, pulling her to him.

She goes willingly, eyes wide with expectation.
 
“I thought I lost you,” he breathes.
 
She’s actually here.
 
Alive and healthy and utterly stunning.

“I know.”
 
She leans up on her tiptoes, pressing her hand to his chest.
 
He closes his eyes, fighting against the wild desire that seeks to claim him.
 
He knows this feeling, having spent time with Roseline at the Savoy and Torrent, but this time it’s different.
 
With Sadie he can still think, still function.
 
He is not driven by an irrational lust.

She rises to brush his lips with her own.
 
He closes his eyes, aching to feel her touch.
 
He winds his arms around her, fingers splayed against her lower back.
 

“Get away from her!”
 

Nicolae cries out as he is launched through the air, toppling over a high-backed Edwardian chair across the room.
 
It splinters beneath him.
 
He groans as he rolls to his side, clutching his back.
 

Hurried footsteps beat down the hall.
 
When William arrives in the doorway, he sways unsteadily, clinging to the doorframe for support when he spies Sadie crouched on the floor, defending Nicolae from Fane.
 

“Sadie?
 
Why are you growling at Fane?”
 
William’s hand falls free from the door as he stumbles into the room, wide-eyed.
 
“What’s going on?”

“She smells danger,” Fane replies, sinking low as he stares back at Sadie.
 
“To her, I am a rival.
 
She’s just protecting her territory, and by that I mean Nicolae.”

Nicolae watches the odd staring match, torn between wanting to leap between them and his undeniable curiosity.
 
He tosses aside the remnants of the chair as he gingerly rises from the floor.

Neither Fane nor Sadie notice him as they weave slightly back and forth like two animals locked in a death match.
 
Nicolae frowns, realizing that is exactly what is happening.
 
Fane is trying to show Sadie that he is the dominate one.
 
“Is this really necessary?”

“She is a killer now, Nicolae.
 
She must learn.”
 
Fane’s words are clipped, edged with tension.

“By telling her you’re the top dog?”

Sadie’s lips peel back to reveal a straight row of white teeth, a low growl rises from her throat.
 
Fane’s hands clench into fists at his side as he refuses to back down.
 

William takes a step into the room and both immortals bristle.
 
“I’d stay out of this if I were you,” Nicolae calls from across the room, raising his hand in warning.

“You’re actually ok with this?” William splutters, his gaze wide with disbelief.
 

Gritting his teeth, Nicolae forces himself to nod.
 
“The sooner they get this over with, the sooner we can leave.”

Casting a doubtful glance at his sister, William nods.
 
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says as he turns to leave the room.

The past few days have been hard on William.
 
Nicolae knows the last thing he wanted was for Sadie to be pulled back into the immortal world, and now she has become one of them.
 
He wonders just how well William will accept Sadie’s new life.
 
How easily will he forget how close she came to death if she ever goes for his jugular?

After William disappears back downstairs, Nicolae waits nearly an hour for the staring match to end, pacing the edge of the room.
 
The two immortals hardly notice his presence, too consumed with their battle of wills.

The standoff continues well into the night.
 
Nicolae comes and goes, his growling stomach finally winning over his curiosity.
 
As dawn begins to break over the mountains the next day, he feels a subtle shift in the room.
 

Sadie finally lowers her eyes.
  
Nicolae breathes a sigh of relief as Fane nods and rises.
 
Sadie follows suit but keeps her gaze fixated on the floor.
 
“She has submitted to my authority,” Fane says, pausing beside the chair that Nicolae slumps in.
 
A small smile plays across Fane’s face.
 
“That is a good sign.”

Four

L
ucien’s polished black boots glisten under the red lights of the vibrant Amsterdam district.
 
He walks down the narrow street, pausing to admire the 300-year-old gabled buildings with their stunning architecture.
 
“Shame they don’t make them like this anymore,” he says to no one in particular.
 

A man lying against a building corner, wrapped in soiled clothes and clutching a bottle tightly in hand, bobs his head in agreement.
 
Lucien stares at him, wondering how much the man can actually see.
 
His nose curls with disgust at the stench wafting from the unclean man and swiftly moves on.

It is nearing the witching hour, and the night is only just beginning to wake in this part of the city.
 
Groups of people converge on the district, hooting and hollering in anticipation of an evening of fun and debauchery.
 
Tourists stumble over their own feet as their cameras flash, attempting to capture the essence of this famous place, but a camera could never do it justice.

It can’t express the electric feeling in the air or the scents of hormones that drift on the breeze.
 
The thrumming of so many heartbeats is intoxicating.

Amsterdam is one of Lucien’s favorite places to visit.
 

He passes by crowded pubs, closed street cafes, theatres that closed their doors hours before after a successful weekend showing and overcrowded hotels that lead into the district.
 
Here, where the glass-paned window fronts are open for browsing and anything goes, Lucien finds himself drawn in by the excitement of it all.
 
The thought of what a girl is ready and willing to do for a handful of cash never ceases to amaze and excite him.
 
Of course, none of them ever get to spend it.

But tonight he is not here for the entertainment.
 
He is here for the second phase of his plan.
 

“You looking for a good time?”

Lucien spins on his heel, eyeing the busty brunette lounging against the aged brick of a three-story establishment.
 
Her accent is thick, but no more so than her make-up.
 
Her red leather mini-skirt cuts so high across her thighs that she leaves nothing to the imagination, and her black halter is nearly non-existent.
 
Fake eyelashes, splashed with glitter, flutter at him as she steps out of the doorway .

Three girls writhe in the window behind her, on poles, chairs and the floor.
 
Lucien reluctantly draws his attention away from them to focus on the girl before him.
 
“That depends.”
 

He casually draws back the front of his unbuttoned suit coat, tucking his right hand into his pocket.
 
His left clutches the top of a silver and black walking cane, hand carved and very expensive.
 
He grins at the rhythmic sway of her hips, her high heels tapping out a steady rhythm as she approaches.
 
“What are you offering?”

She leans in close and whispers in his ear.
 
The scent of cheap alcohol hardly masks the latent drugs that spiral through her veins, and he can see the needle pricks along her inner arm.
 
She stands just over five feet tall, even with a pair of 4-inch stilettos strapped to her feet.
 
He scans her waist, guessing her to weigh no more than one hundred and twenty pounds, most of that spread between hips and bust.
 
Upon closer inspection, he notices small rips in her halter, mended time and time again. The leather skirt shows wear; the zipper is broken and dangling off its threads.
 
A small safety pin is the only thing holding her skirt up.

There is nothing remarkable about her up close, but that doesn’t really matter.
 
The newspapers will only care about the placement of her body, not how pretty her face is.
 
He pauses to imagine just how she will look with her intestines wrapped tightly around her neck, dangling from her balcony window over the street.

The bite marks along her forearm and wrist will tie her murder in with the victims he left in front of the Fortune Theatre in London a couple days ago.
 
Her body drained of blood as well.
 
That should be enough to begin to breed the panic he so longs for.
 

A murderer on the loose, jumping from country to country, creating strange, horrific displays of the victim’s bodies.
 
This story should make world news.
 

He fakes a smile as she pulls away, not the least bit interested in what she’s selling, but thinking she has potential.
 
Things are starting to look up.

As he steps over the threshold into the seedy building, a new idea curls his bottom lip with desire.
 
“Why don’t you invite a few of your friends to the party as well?”

***

T
he instant the door closes behind Fane, Sadie looks up to meet Nicolae’s gaze.
 
She runs her hands nervously through her hair, wincing at the blood that still mats her strands together.
 
“I’m sorry if you thought I was going to bite you.
 
I would never”

“I know.”
 
But does he really?
 
That’s the question he’s been asking himself all night.
 
He thought things had been fine between them, before Fane showed up, but now he’s begun to wonder.
 
Was she really trying to kiss him or was she just luring him in?

No.
 
Sadie would never hurt him, but that was the old Sadie.
 
Who knows what this transformation from human to immortal has made her capable of.
 
 
“That was pretty intense between you two.”

She shrugs and climbs onto the bed.
 
She tucks her feet under her backside and pats the mattress beside her.
 
“I got bored, so I gave in.”

Nicolae smirks, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
 
“Nice to know you’re still in there.”

She grins and scoots closer as he settles down next to her.
 
He brushes his hand along her forearm, amazed by the silky feel of her skin.
 
Even the fine hairs are softer than before.
 
“What’s it like?”

“It’s…weird.
 
I know I’m still me, but it’s like there is another part of me now.
 
I feel strong, fast.
 
I can see things, hear things that I know should be impossible.”
 
Her smile fades into a slight grimace.
 
“It’s a lot to take in, to be honest.”

His hand flinches in hers and she looks up.
 
“What’s wrong?”

“What about me?
 
Has that changed at all?”
 
His voice is low and cautious.
 
Sadie is the only person alive that can hurt him now.
 
A part of him screams to flee from certain heartbreak, but he can’t make himself move.
 
He lost his parents and Sorin to the blood feud between hunter and immortal.
 
What if loving Sadie could end all of that?
 
What if, together, they could bridge the gap and show both sides that is it possible to get along?

She reaches up to gently cup his cheek.
 
He closes his eye, sinking into the fiery warmth of her touch.
 
“Nothing has changed between us.”

“When I found you lying on the floor…”

Sadie brushes her finger along his stubbled chin, trailing toward his lips to silence him.
 
He realizes how terrible he must look: unshaven and haggard from lack of sleep.
 
He opens his eyes to see her smiling at him.
 
“You saved me.
 
That’s all that matters.”

He draws back from her touch, fixing his gaze firmly on the floor instead of her.
 
“I couldn’t lose you.
 
I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me for that decision.”

“Are you kidding?”
 
Sadie laughs.
 
She leaps off the bed and stands before an oval mirror resting on a wooden stand.
 
She flexes her muscles, twisting this way and that to get a better view before she turns to face him.
 
“I feel amazing.”

“But you weren’t given a choice”

Sadie waves off his argument.
 
“Do you know any girl who would be upset over never having to shave her legs again?
 
I mean come on, this is freakin’ brilliant!”
 
She lifts her shredded pant leg to reveal smooth, toned calves.
 
She smirks as Nicolae flushes.
 
“Come on, Nicolae. It’s a joke.
 
Lighten up!”

He leans back on the bed, propped up on his elbows.
 
“Why aren’t you freaking out right now?
 
I expected at least a good slap over it all.”

Her grin slowly fades as she drops her pant leg.
 
She sighs and leaps onto the bed beside him, bouncing on her hands and knees.
 
The bed hardly quakes as she lands.
 
“I’ve spent the past few weeks obsessing over being left out.
 
You know I suck at that.”

He nods in complete agreement.
 
Sadie never has been one to think of safety first.

“Well, now’s my chance to make a difference.”
 
She inches closer to him.
 
“I know Roseline is in trouble.
 
I heard you guys talking about it, and I’m going to help get her back.”

“No.
 
No way!”
 
He shakes his head, surging to his feet.
 
He grimaces, rubbing at his neck as he considers what she is suggesting.

“I’m strong now.
 
I can fight.”

“Strong?”
 
He turns to face her.
 
“Do you really think that gives you an advantage against another immortal?
 
They have been training for hundreds of years, Sadie.”

She slips down off the bed and saunters up to him.
 
His eyes widen as she draws close, pressing her hands to his chest, just over his heart.
 
“You can train me.”

“Me?”
 
His voice cracks.
 
He clears his throat and frowns down at her.
 
“I can’t just…I’m a hunter.
 
A leader.”
 
His voice rises in pitch.
 
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Actually, I do.”
 
She leans up into him, pressing her cheek to his neck.
 
He swallows roughly, his hands struggling to find a safe place to rest.
 
He settles on awkwardly grasping her arms.
 
“You know me better than anyone.
 
You know that I’ll do something completely reckless if I’m left on my own.
 
Wouldn’t it be best for me to know how to defend myself?”

Nicolae groans as his fingers curl around her upper arms. He thrusts her back.
 
“That’s blackmail.”

She grins and nods.
 
“But it’s also the truth.”

He sighs heavily, resting his forehead against hers.
 
“Fane won’t like this.”

Winding her arms around his waist, she smiles mischievously, peering up at him through her bangs.
 
“If he thinks I’ve submitted to him, he’s got another thing coming!”

***

R
oseline is dying.
 
At least she hopes she is.

A bouquet of rotting flesh and spilled blood permeates the air.
 
A heavy dampness clings to her skin, matting her hair against her neck and forehead.
 
The stained sackcloth she wears drapes her emaciated body, soiled by mud and other unmentionable fluids.