Forbidden (The Gabriel Lennox Series Book 1)

by M. L. Desir

  Lilith glanced around. “Where is Nikolai?”

  Gabriel brought his hands to his head, seething. “Is there a bloody echo in here or am I talking to myself?”

  “My Prince,” Mikel called. His shoes clambered the staircase as he called after him a second time.

  Gabriel ignored him, fixing his eyes on Faron, who winced, but didn’t look away. “And even though Nikolai hasn’t been Enlightened, he’s still unlike any child I’ve met. He possesses power,” Gabriel continued, “Power that could be useful or destructive depending upon who holds his hand. I demand that you tell me what he is and what he’s doing here.”

  Lilith crossed one leg over the other. “He was sent here to protect you, Gabriel.”

  For once, Gabriel could bet his life on the fact that she wasn’t lying. She looked serious. The usual flashing in her black eyes had been replaced with a peculiar dullness. “He’s a Grigori,” she went on softly, “Like Beautiful Light. If you want to know more, I think it best that you present him.”

  Nathaniel waved his hand through the air. “Ah. The Grigori?” he asked, bitterly as if the word left a dirty taste in his mouth. “Interesting creatures. They go by other names, too. Eyes of Night. Nephilim. The Watchers. Fallen angels. Now why would you know anything about that, my Lady?” He set his pale blue eyes on Lilith, looking pitiless as a fallen angel himself.

  She shot an angry look at him and in return, Nathaniel gave her one of his sweet smiles. She stood up, all elegance and grace. “We don’t have time to discuss such matters. Present Nikolai to me.”

  Gabriel turned to Mikel. “Present Nikolai.”

  Mikel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I tried to tell you. Nikolai is gone.”

  * * *

  Gabriel stared at Nikolai’s bed for several moments until it finally settled in that Mikel was correct. He walked back down the stairs to find Lilith, Faron, and Mikel gazing at him with matching, blank expressions. Nathaniel leaned against the front door, arms crossed against this chest. Colin sat in front of the empty fireplace, his eyes wide and glistening. He looked at Gabriel with a reassuring smile before turning away.

  Nikolai couldn’t be found. Was it written miserably all over his face? Was that why Colin couldn’t look at him for but a moment?

  And Seth had taken him. Mikel must’ve let him do it.

  “Why didn’t you stop him?” Gabriel managed to keep calm while he addressed Mikel when all he really wanted to do was strike him in the face. But he wouldn’t give Mikel the pleasure of such behavior.

  Mikel handed him a sheet of folded paper. “Stop him? He left on his own free will. Read for yourself.”

  Gabriel opened the note, which revealed a letter penned in Nikolai’s sloppy handwriting. His shoulders rose and fell in a great sigh. Mikel had spoken the truth.

  There’s a light that’s not light in his soul. It must be removed. He remembered Nikolai’s words about Seth. Did the child think that he could purge him, to save the damned—was he that confident? That foolish?

  Closing his eyes, Gabriel dipped into the blood bond, and Seth obligingly gave him images of the courtyard, amidst a garden of statues and flowers, but he whispered no taunts into his mind. Gabriel stalked toward the door avoiding the stares.

  “Master,” Colin said. “I shall accompany you. After all, someone will need to dispose of the . . . loser.”

  Gabriel found himself thankful for Colin’s gift of fire. If Seth and he had been merely mortal men, then such precautions would’ve been unnecessary to hide the soon-to-be aftermath of their fatal and he hoped, final duel.

  Nathaniel moved forward, blocking their access to the front door. “Wait. You mustn’t go unarmed.” He turned to Faron. “Fair One, your sword?”

  Faron took the cane that he held. He kissed the gold knob and pulled a sword from it. “Please,” he said, his sea-gray eyes filled with unshed tears. “Bring Nikolai back.”

  Gabriel nodded. He and Colin rushed out into the night.

  CHAPTER 38

  A Soul Bond Is Made

  THE GARDEN LOOKED different in the rain. The moisture darkened the white marble to an ash gray, and the living flowers that were supposed to brighten and beautify the statues had the opposite effect. Their colorful beauty emphasized how inanimate and empty the statues really were—imitations of life.

  Gabriel walked about, and he saw that he had a small group of followers. The remainder of the Chosen were there, dressed in black. Alexander stood amidst them. His pale, violet eyes glowed against the gloom of the black clothing.

  “Have you come for Seth’s burial?” Gabriel asked him.

  Alexander tried to hide his smile, unsuccessfully. “Seth summoned us here. I understand that he has the boy. . .”

  “And no harm has come to him,” Seth interrupted. He sat at the feet of the Maiden statue. “Yet. What is he doing here?” Seth asked, pointing at Colin. “He wasn’t a part of the audience.”

  “Colin will use his gift of fire to cover our existence,” Gabriel said. “Don’t waste time thinking that he will interfere. He’s here to burn the loser to ashes.”

  Seth cocked his head to the side. “Wonderful. He can mingle with the others. And once the show is over and you, Gabriel, are no more, the irony of him burning his maker will be oh so very delicious.”

  Inwardly, Gabriel frowned at Seth’s overconfidence. If Beautiful Light served as its source, he had much to fear. “My terms are simple. Break the bond, give me Nikolai, and I shall be merciful.”

  “No, I don’t like your terms. Here are my terms. Whoever wins takes the Principality—everything. The loser can no longer interfere . . . because he’ll be dead.” He chuckled, like he had just heard a good joke. “Agreed?” The auburn cast to Seth’s hair burned redder than before. Gabriel frowned, hoping Seth would keep the contents used to redden his hair to himself.

  Seth feathered his hair with his fingers, smiling. “I tried to dye my hair red with a little girl’s blood in order to get the same shade as yours, but you know how messy and troublesome the red stuff can be. It clotted before I could do much with it. Do you like it?”

  “I want Nikolai. Return him, and I won’t have to hurt you,” Gabriel ordered with a sweet smile, “as much as I’d like to.”

  “The boy came here willingly.” He laughed. “Telling me that he could save me from my darkness.”

  “Nikolai is a child and fatally optimistic,” Gabriel explained. “He didn’t want to accept the fact that no one can save you.”

  “A child, huh? Is that what you really think?” Seth snapped. “You’re quite naive, Gabriel. Quite.”

  “No, not naive. I know what I need to know so far regarding the Grigori.”

  Seth’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, so you know now. You and I were once human, and Chosen or not, the Grigori will make us their slaves. I’m the lesser of the two evils.”

  Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Grigori or not, Nikolai is still a child and an innocent. Besides, what makes you think you have a right to play God?”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “Hmm. No, you’re not naive. Just irritatingly stupid.”

  Gabriel slit his wrist open, letting the blood drip onto the cobblestones. “Break the bond. That way, it’s a fair fight.”

  Seth smiled and rose to his feet, closing the space between them. He lowered himself to the ground in a push-up and lapped up Gabriel’s spilt blood. He stood up, smiling his angelic smile. “Who said anything about being fair?”

  Gabriel raised the sword. “Break the blood bond. Now.”

  Seth wagged one finger in the air, a smirk on his face. “No. You’ll have to kill me. And we know that isn’t possible.”

  “Do we? You’d be surprised by what I’m capable of.”

  “Even if you could kill me, you know doing so will cost you greatly. Remember the blood bond. My pain,” Seth licked his
lips, “is your pain.”

  Gabriel lunged at him with the sword, but just as he did, Seth disappeared, and in his place appeared a nebulous, pulsating sphere of blood and what looked like a collective mass of translucent forms, churning about fluidly like swirls of smoke. In the middle of all of this chaos appeared a humanoid figure twice the height of a regular man with large wings. Its beautiful face filled him with terror and dread as he looked upon it. It reminded him of the angel-man in his dreams.

  This wasn’t an illusion. At last, Seth, I can see your trump card, he thought to him.

  Seth’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing into angry slits. Beautiful Light only revealed himself to you because you’ll be dead.

  Beautiful Light grew brighter while the moans and screams of ghostlike entities that swirled about him increased.

  The longer Gabriel stared, stricken with terror, the more he realized that the creatures had humanoid features. One in particular had the face of young girl, no older than Nikolai. The girl and the other translucent creatures orbited about the glowing angel-man, like moons, unable to escape the pull of his power. Gabriel sensed that they were the souls of all those that Seth had killed.

  “Damn you.” Gabriel met the angel-man’s eyes without flinching. His eyes were tranquil, serene even, and the rich color of gold glowed for a split second. In that moment, Gabriel’s sword wrenched free from his hand. It spun through the air, landing several feet away.

  Beautiful Light smiled, a silent challenge that seemed to say: “Reclaim your sword. If you can.”

  Gabriel rolled along the cobblestone, slick with rain, retrieved his sword, and in one smooth motion, stood to his feet. He dashed toward his left where he saw the white mass floating, carrying Seth high above. Gabriel leaped into the air, holding the sword in both hands over his head. He brought the blade down and through Seth’s side as he landed. As soon as the blade struck, pain lanced through him seconds before Seth cried out. Seth fell a few feet from him, crouching and holding a hand to his bleeding side.

  Gabriel nearly fell to his knees, the pain throbbed, but he bit his tongue until it bled. He couldn’t risk crying out as Seth had. He clenched his teeth and stood with a straight back, poised as a graceful dancer.

  This was a performance, a show, no matter how macabre and bloody. They were watching him. He had to appear invincible, unstoppable, so that no one, not even a fool would dare to come against him again.

  He let his blood drip into the puddle of Seth’s spilt blood. Seth screamed and slammed into him with all his might knocking him to the ground. But their blood had already mixed, thus dissolving the bond. At once, Gabriel could feel the intangible threads that kept him prisoner snap and disappear.

  He lurched to his feet, rushed toward Seth, and struck him across the face with a clenched fist. The smooth, well-delivered hit would’ve broken the neck of a mere mortal while Seth merely sank to the wet cobblestones below. Gabriel raised the sword in both hands and swung it. The steel bit into Seth’s flesh, and his slender neck offered little resistance. The bone snapped. A torrent of blood sprayed his face, his hair, and clothes. Seth’s head went flying off to one side. In a sudden rage, Gabriel hacked away with his sword, Seth’s legs, his arms. He cut his torso vertically in two, laughing like a child enjoying a new toy.

  Seth’s heart.

  He would need to cut out his heart, for he could still hear it beating.

  And he would’ve continued, save for a low, musical resonance. It sounded almost mournful. The blood bond had faded, but Gabriel could sense Beautiful Light near him, could still make out the outline of his transparent form as it hovered over Seth’s mutilated torso. Was he mourning Seth? Well, what remained of him, anyway. Mourn his pieces then.

  * * *

  Seth, you will die soon. Very soon. Unless you give me what you cherish most.

  Seth heard Beautiful Light’s voice speaking to him.

  Myself, he thought. Take me. I want to live.

  Beautiful Light moaned a pleased sigh. At last. You finally understand . . .

  CHAPTER 39

  He Who Destroys

  GABRIEL DROPPED THE SWORD, and the hollow clatter rang like dark, ugly music in his ears, drowning the murmuring of the Chosen around him. They swarmed around him like a murder of crows, clad in their flowing black garments, attracted to the blood he had just spilt.

  “Stay back! He commanded them all to leave and in the same breath, he fixed his eyes on Bela. “Except you.”

  Some of the Chosen ascended into the sky with the grace of wingless angels. Others simply disappeared into the shadows.

  “Where is Nikolai?” he asked her.

  “I can take you to him . . .” she whispered.

  Colin cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders backwards and then forwards. “Well, that was easier than I’d thought it would be, Master Gabriel.”

  “Yes,” Gabriel agreed, feeling uneasy. Something seemed out of place. “Burn him. Quickly.”

  Colin’s hands glowed with blue flames.

  “No!” Bela rushed toward Colin and planted herself firmly in between him and Seth’s corpse. “If you burn him, won’t I perish too?”

  Colin shrugged. “Unfortunately, that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  Bela sank to her knees, sobbing.

  Gabriel shook his head. “I find that scenario highly unlikely, Bela. Seth most likely lied to you about your life being connected to his.” It was a lie, after all, that he had told Mikel.

  She closed both of Seth’s eyelids delicately, gently. “Seth,” she cried. “You bastard. You idiot.” She spat on his mutilated corpse before rising to her feet.

  She turned to leave, but then swirled around abruptly. “What’s that sound? Do you hear it?”

  All looked to see Seth’s body rising from the marble floor. The legs and arms reattached themselves to the torso. At last, the head affixed itself on the neck. The eyes snapped wide open and instead of two different shades, they had turned color of gold.

  Gabriel watched, petrified, as the spilled puddle of blood rose like liquid metal drawn up by a magnet into the flesh. The blood smeared all over him soaked into his flesh like water absorbed into thirsty sand.

  Seth’s robe slipped off his body and fell to the ground, revealing skin as smooth as a newly born infant’s. Spotless, he glowed as if moonlight burned beneath his alabaster skin. His reddish hair changed to a darker, fanciful shade that resembled the color of rich, dark wine. His back sprouted giant swan-like wings.

  Movement, now seemingly useless, returned to Gabriel.

  Beside him, Bela turned on her heels to run, to escape this beautiful monster, but he appeared before her and seized her by the neck.

  “Beautiful Light?” Gabriel whispered, afraid to say his name any louder.

  The creature smiled and fixed his eyes on him. An admittance?

  And all the while, his eyes held no malice, no contempt, as if he did her a favor by breaking her neck. Her lack of pleading for her life surprised and impressed Gabriel. Of course, if he had been in her position, he wouldn’t have pleaded either.

  And who was there to plead to anyway? This was merely Seth’s body—a garment, a shell. An empty husk filled with . . . something else. Something inhumanly evil.

  Yet, if that was the case then why—why did he sense someone else hiding behind the golden eyes?

  “Seth? Are you still—”

  The gold eyes narrowed in annoyance, silencing him. “Seth’s no longer here. I have no quarrel with you. Give me the Grigori child.” The creature beat its wings, like a great bird of prey.

  “Put Bela down.”

  “First, bring me the child.”

  Gabriel held his ground. “No. You know I can’t do that.”

  Beautiful Light squeezed Bela’s flower stalk of a neck. Her gray e
yes flickered to him, and a kind of peace surfaced from its depths. Bones shattered as the fallen angel’s chokehold tightened around Bela’s neck. He drew her to his face, kissed her the way Lilith had, and drew out her soul. She closed her eyes just before Tipereth threw her lifeless body at Gabriel’s feet. With lightning speed, Tipereth seized Colin by the throat. “Bring me the child.”

  His eyes met Colin’s fearful gaze and he froze, unable to move. “Do what you must, Master Gabriel,” his servant—no, his friend—said. He knew what the “do what you must” message truly translated to: Colin inviting him to make a soul bond by sacrificing him.

  Never.

  “Give me a moment,” he told the fallen angel. “Don’t hurt him. Please.”

  With that, he moved toward the room, opened the door, and stepped through it. He passed by a mirror and stopped. Gabriel flinched at the sight of his reflection, covered in Seth’s blood. He had spared the left side of his face. With the back of his hand, he wiped off as much of the blood that he could. Children shouldn’t see such things, he told himself. He hesitated ascending the stairs. He wondered how Nikolai would react when he went to him looking like death dressed in blood. Taking into consideration that he would frighten him with his macabre appearance, Gabriel tried rubbing some of the blood away with a handkerchief in his frock coat.

  “He is not dead yet,” a voice said.

  Gabriel looked toward the staircase.

  Nikolai descended the steps, his hand on the railing. The boy clutched the banister so hard that Gabriel could see the knuckles etched in clear relief through his pale skin, which had a sudden and intense luminosity. “Is he?” Nikolai’s voice snapped at the air, an angry rasp of breath.

  Gabriel shook his head. He took a deep breath and approached him. He reached out, and before he realized his actions, he had lifted Nikolai into his arms and propped him onto his hip, holding him, running his bloodied fingers through his black hair, which looked a couple inches longer, and strangely, Nikolai felt much heavier.

  He pressed his lips against the crown of Nikolai’s head. “Are you hurt? What did he do to you?”