Why would the thought of leaving Naomi make him happy?
Because it is the first selfless thought you have had in nearly a hundred years.
A smile parted his lips.
If Naomi could accept what he was, if she could look beyond the resentment and the rage… Hope tore through him and Gideon groaned.
Nay! He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. She must never learn the true nature of his punishment. He couldn’t bear to see the inevitable horror in her eyes.
Sharp, burning pain stabbed through his abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs. He bent over, clutched his stomach and collapsed to his knees. Like a wind-fueled wildfire, the sensations expanded, radiating outward from his belly to his chest and down his arms.
Panic seized him. He couldn’t breathe!
He had to do something—anything—to ease the violent cramping. Rocking forward, he retched into the dirt. He heaved in long, draining spasms until every drop of Naomi’s blood was purged from his body.
Rolling away from the mess, Gideon lay flat on his back, trembling uncontrollably. He bent his legs and threw his forearm over his eyes.
What did it mean?
He drew slow, deep breaths into his body and exhaled them even more slowly.
Why had his body rejected her blood?
Or had her blood rejected his body?
This didn’t make sense. He’d never reacted this way with anyone else. He had to feed to live.
Struggling to sit up, he shoved his hair out of his eyes and groaned.
“You’ve looked better, my friend.”
Gideon’s head snapped to the side and a violent shudder shook him. He could sense the entity, but it was not visible. “Show yourself, you coward, or is spying from the shadows all you know?”
“I didn’t want to frighten Naomi or I would have revealed myself sooner.” As the creature spoke, his form solidified.
“Domieno?” Gideon whispered incredulously.
He hadn’t seen his friend since before the Fall. The transformation was subtle but unmistakable. Domieno’s long, pale hair hung to his shoulders in lank strands where before it had flowed in golden waves. The shape of his body, tall and lithe, seemed unchanged, but his eyes—his demonic nature burned with malevolent intensity within his soulless eyes.
“It’s been a long time, my friend,” Domieno said.
Gideon stared at his onetime companion and the conflict within him raged. His fingers dug into the dirt and his muscles tightened and rippled. “Why are you here?”
Domieno strolled toward him. “To help you find peace.”
Each step he took made Gideon more restless. Clamoring and clawing, the evil in Gideon reached out for Domieno. Yet revulsion and abhorrence intensified with equal fervor until Gideon had to turn his face away.
He fought down the bile rising again to his throat, sucking in great gulps of air.
“You’re being torn apart and it does not have to be like this.” Domieno spoke in a soft, silky tone. His words slid across Gideon’s senses, drugging him, coercing him. “It’s only painful because you fight it. You’re one of us already. You need only accept it, surrender to it.”
Gideon enjoyed the intoxication for a moment, allowed it to ease the conflict, to soothe him. It was so tempting.
“Get thee behind me, demon! You have no place here!” Gabriel’s sharp command snapped Gideon out of his stupor.
Domieno hissed and his features fluctuated grotesquely as his demonic nature surged. “That is for Gideon to say, messenger!”
Gabriel helped Gideon to his feet. Gideon felt a warm, comforting tingle flow out from the seemingly casual touch and realized Gabriel was strengthening him.
“I will not Fall, Domieno.” Gideon shook away the last of the demon’s spell. “My choice was made long ago.”
“Join us, brother,” Domieno said. “We’ve missed your company. Lucifer has so much more to offer someone with your abilities.”
Gabriel took a threatening step forward. “He gave you his decision. Now be gone! I find your stench revolting.”
“You have always been content as a mindless slave, but some of us have the ability to think for ourselves. Lucifer will not give up on Gideon. He will take his place among us as he should have long ago! This is far from over, errand boy,” Domieno sneered. Then he turned to Gideon. “We’ll meet again.”
Gideon waited until the demon disintegrated before revealing his weakness. He stumbled and then fell to one knee, bracing himself against the ground.
Pulling him back to his feet, Gabriel stretched Gideon’s arm across his shoulders. “What ails you?”
Gideon laughed but didn’t speak. I drank from Naomi and the purity of her blood didn’t agree with me. Gabriel would leave him in the darkness to rot if he made such a confession.
Crispin hurried across the upper bailey, drawn instinctively by Gideon’s peril. “Is he ill?” he asked. “What happened?”
Gabriel supported much of Gideon’s weight while Crispin pulled his other arm across his shoulders. Gideon trembled between them, his head sagging forward. His vision spun sickeningly.
“What do you need? What is amiss?” his brother asked.
“Take me…below,” he managed to say, though his mouth tasted of ash.
“Did Domieno do this to you?” Anger hardened Gabriel’s musical voice.
He didn’t have the strength to shake his head. Violent tremors racked his body and the toes of his cross-gartered boots dug furrows in the dirt. They dragged him toward the stairwell leading to the undercrofts of the castle.
Gideon moaned as they lowered him to the furs in his secret chamber. Heat rippled through him then cold. His muscles continued to spasm, milder cramps, more diffused but undeniably painful.
“What do you need?” Gabriel asked again.
Crispin knelt, putting his wrist within easy reach. Revolted, Gideon turned his face away.
“Rest.” He forced the word past his parched lips. “I need to sleep.”
Gideon’s eyes began to close when Gabriel’s sudden motion drew his attention. His brother reached past Crispin and dragged something metallic from beneath Gideon’s shoulder.
Naomi’s girdle.
His eyes flew to Gabriel’s.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice tight, his expression not quite concealing his fury.
“In the scriptorium,” Gideon whispered, and closed his eyes.
* * * * *
Naomi felt arms slip beneath her and gently lift her into the air. “Gideon,” she murmured, and forced her eyes open.
“Nay, ’tis I,” Brother Gabriel whispered. “Why are you sleeping on the floor, child? What do you remember?”
She looped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m not sure. Everything is…confused.”
“Can you sit or shall I take you to the infirmary?”
“Just give me a moment.” Why were her thoughts so muddled?
Brother Gabriel sat her on the stool in front of the supply table. The image of Gideon sitting there with his foot propped on the cross rung of the other stool flashed through her mind.
“Was Gideon here?”
“Do you remember him being here?”
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. “I’m not sure. Was he here when you arrived?”
“Nay,” he said firmly. “You were alone. The door was bolted from the inside.”
“That would not have stopped Gideon.”
“True. Think back. What do you remember?”
She poured herself a cup of cider and took several sips before answering. “You brought me this basket and insisted I eat.” She paused for another sip. “I think something made me ill. My head is pounding.”
“You look unusually pale. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the infirmary?”
“Nay. I will be fine.”
Her knees wobbled unsteadily as she pushed to her feet. She grasped the
edge of the table, waiting for the weakness to pass. The muscles along her neck and shoulders felt especially stiff so she rolled her head and shrugged her shoulders.
Brother Gabriel gasped. Her eyes darted to him, but his gaze was fixed on her throat. He reached out, his fingers trembling, and gently touched her skin.
“What?” she asked. “What is it?”
His warm brown eyes locked with hers but he didn’t answer. “Are you sure you feel well enough to walk?”
Her gaze narrowed on his face. She knew this game all too well. “What is wrong with my neck? Tell me now.”
She watched his throat work as he struggled to swallow. The golden shards in his eyes glistened but he answered her. “Your skin bears his mark.”
Naomi felt her neck but she could detect nothing with her fingertips. “What mark? What do you mean?”
“Come. Let us get you to the dormitory.”
He reached for her arm but she jerked away. “What did he do to me? What mark?”
“He bruised your skin with his mouth. It will fade in a few days.” He offered no more information.
“Then he was here. And he did something to muddle my memory of what took place. Where is he now?”
“He is ill. Crispin is with him.”
His short, succinct answers frightened Naomi. If this was what his angelic nature forced him to share, did she really want to know more? “What made him ill?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will he recover?”
“I don’t know.”
Her mouth gaped at his words. “You don’t know?” she cried. “If he is that ill, we must summon a leech.”
“Crispin is tending him and I will return as soon as I have seen to your—”
“Take me to him.”
“Nay! We will tend to Gideon.”
“Where is he?”
“You can do nothing for him. I will see you to the dormitory and—”
“Where is Gideon? I will just keep asking until you tell me the truth so tell me now.”
* * * * *
Naomi nervously clutched at her tunic as she followed Brother Gabriel through the undercrofts of the castle. He held a torch aloft but dense shadows still concealed much of the massive room. Sturdy shelves and covered bins contained supplies of every imaginable variety. Foodstuffs, thick bolts of cloth, bandages and blankets, even basic building materials could all be found in the cavernous chambers.
Brother Gabriel turned down an aisle between the storage shelves and paused at the entrance to another room.
Naomi couldn’t see beyond him. Why had he stopped?
She stepped up beside him and peered into the small chamber. Gideon thrashed about on a pile of furs, moaning and striking out at Crispin. The younger man silently battled Gideon’s flailing limbs, trying to keep him from injuring either of them.
Compassion for Gideon eclipsed her dislike for the other man. She slipped past Gabriel and pushed Crispin out of her way.
“Damsel, he will hurt you,” Crispin protested.
She spared him only a scathing glance.
“Gideon,” she said softly, kneeling beside him. “Gideon, be still.”
He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand. Brother Gabriel stepped into the room, obviously ready to intervene, but she held up her hand, staving him off.
“Gideon. Listen to my voice. You’re not alone. I’m here with you.”
Suddenly his arms closed around her, dragging her down to the furs beside him. She cried out softly at the aggression in his movements but he laid his head against her breast and gradually relaxed.
She couldn’t ignore the intimacy of their position. The heat of his breath penetrated her garments. His arms circled her waist and one of his legs rested possessively over her thighs.
Naomi stroked his tangled hair and continued to murmur into his ear, soothing him, reassuring him.
Brother Gabriel knelt beside them, folding his hands, his lips moving rhythmically in a silent prayer.
Drawn by a weariness she didn’t fully understand, Naomi closed her eyes and surrendered to sleep.
* * * * *
Naomi awoke to darkness. Gideon’s body pressed against hers, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. Fear tingled along her nerve endings but there was something else as well. This felt…familiar.
Where had Brother Gabriel gone? How long had she slept? It was impossible to tell if it was night or day in this windowless tomb.
Glancing to her right, she was able to discern the outline of the doorway and somewhere in the distance torchlight flickered. If it was day, she needed to change her clothes and make ready for her meeting with Leon of Le Puy. Her uncle.
He expected her decision but she had found very little time to contemplate her choice.
She felt no Divine Calling. Could she really take sacred vows for the express purpose of continuing her work? The possibility seemed dishonest.
Scooting away from Gideon slightly, Naomi managed to sit. Before she could stand he clasped one arm around her leg, the other around her hips and nestled his head intimately against her lap.
Heat and jumbled images swirled through Naomi. She could almost feel his hands and his mouth moving over her body. He held her down, kissing her with consuming passion. Her nipples gathered into tight little buds and tension gathered low in her belly.
His head tossed restlessly, his face rubbing against the juncture of her thighs.
She rested her head against the wall, trying to ignore her pounding heart and the teasing heat of his breath. The images seemed so real, more like memories than dreams. She shivered and pushed her fingers into his hair.
It didn’t make sense. Gideon had kissed her and even touched her breasts, but she would never allow him such intimacies… She squirmed a bit at the thought. What was the point in lying to herself? Her body wanted those things. Part of Gideon still craved the light, but something dark and primitive stirred within her each time they touched.
She was finding it harder and harder to resist.
A soft golden light drew her attention to the doorway. Good, Brother Gabriel had returned. Her hand stilled in Gideon’s hair. What if it was Crispin? She didn’t want to be in the same room with that man, especially while Gideon was unconscious.
The light intensified and Naomi’s breath lodged in her throat.
“Fear not, Naomi,” the entity said, his voice flowing over and around her.
Light emanated from his garments and the waves of his glistening hair created a glowing nimbus.
“Who are you?” she whispered. How many angels were there at the Krak des Chevaliers?
He folded his arms across his chest and Naomi noticed the sword strapped to his side. No soft golden light shone from this blade. The entire length burned like fire.
“My true name is impossible for humans to pronounce. Most just call me Michael.”
He moved a step closer and Naomi shrank back against the wall. The radiance of his face made his features hard to distinguish. Naomi was left with two impressions, beauty and brutality.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Gabriel told me Gideon is improving. I came to see for myself.”
She stroked Gideon’s hair, averting her gaze from Michael’s brilliance. “Why would you care? Are you not the one who did this to him?”
He chuckled. The warmth in the sound surprised her.
“No wonder Gideon is drawn to you. All I did when I dispersed their little band of rebels was to give each of them exactly what they wanted.”
What did he mean? What had he given them? Little band of rebels? “There are more like Gideon? Other angels banished from the Light?”
He tilted his head as if to study her from a different angle. “You need only concern yourself with that rebel.” He nodded toward Gideon. “Gabriel is another matter.”
“Gabriel is not a rebel,” she protested. “He is the kindest, most—”
“I find no
fault with Gabriel, but I have operated without him long enough. His assignment was to observe Gideon without interfering—which he has failed to do.”
“You said you found no fault with him.”
Again he laughed, his nimbus momentarily brightening. “Are you hoping to become Heaven’s champion? We’re on the same side of this war, Naomi.”
“Then what do you mean to do?” He hadn’t come merely to check on Gideon. Gabriel could speak only truth. Why would Michael doubt his report?
“There comes a point in each person’s life when they must turn a corner and carry on. Often portions of one’s past do not travel on into the future. It is part of the cycle. It is natural and ordained.”
She stared at him silently, seeing only the brutality in his beautiful face.
“It is time,” he said. “You’re stronger than you know, Naomi. Much stronger than Gabriel likes to believe.”
Her mouth trembled and tears gathered in her eyes. “Is he still here? You must at least allow us to say goodbye.”
“I must, must I?” He shook his head.
The golden haze around his face wavered and she could clearly see his smile. Her heart lurched at its beauty and tingling warmth enveloped her being even after Michael had gone.
Chapter Ten
Naomi stepped away from her drawing table, unable to see through her tears.
He was gone.
Michael had taken Gabriel from her without allowing them to say goodbye. She cursed her rash tongue. Who was she to challenge an archangel?
Her meeting with Leon had taken place in the upper bailey. She had been searching for Brother Gabriel when she spotted Leon and some of his men.
She approached him boldly and performed her best curtsy. “I have made my decision,” she said.
He waved his men away before asking, “And what did you decide?”
“I would be honored to accompany you to… Where will we be going?”
A beaming smile parted his lips and he spontaneously pulled her into his arms for a sound hug. “England, demoiselle. My parents are anxious to meet you but Roderick must take precedence.”
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