by Lizzy Ford
Gabriel stayed on the beach until the sun began to set. Sensitive to the light after years in the underworld, his head felt like it was going to explode. Falling thirty stories onto the hard sand of the Sanctuary did nothing to help. In hindsight, he didn’t know why he thought the rocky beach provided a more yielding place to land than concrete. If he ever leapt off another building, he’d choose pavement, which might have some give to it.
His back was shredded from landing on his weapons as well as the stones on the beach. He’d managed to peel off his sweater and rinsed the blood off his body in the surf. Now, he waited to heal and to calm down. He could think of nothing more appealing than kicking his mate’s ass, as much for leaping off the building as for making him feel what he did when he saw her jump.
Terror. He’d lost her once. He never wanted to lose her again. He’d ignored the demons swarming her apartment building and followed her over the side of the building. He thought of nothing else but saving her. Of all the reasons he resented her, this was the one that stung him the most. He couldn’t forget the energy of the bond that tore through when he held her on the roof. It was unlike what he’d known with his predecessor; this was natural, deep, soothing. Compelling. He understood why Rhyn never let Katie out of arm’s reach when they were in the same room.
Deidre was his. Judging by the strength of their bond, she’d be more than a duty to him.
He wanted to hate her and to tell Fate to fuck off. Watching the sun sink into the ocean, he knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in and accepted it, like Rhyn eventually did Katie.
“Rhyn said you’d be here.”
Gabe glanced at the Immortal. Tamer dropped onto his knees and held out two compasses: the original and a second without the wear of time around its edges.
“I duplicated it,” Tamer said. “The original was put together with magic, and I managed to do the same with the new one. There might be some sort of …”
Gabe grabbed the new one, and the face flared to life. The hands spun several times while the icons around its edges glowed, danced and finally settled back in place. The brightness faded.
“…or that,” Tamber said. He plucked it out of Gabe’s hands and held it up.
Gabe sensed some sort of Immortal power.
“You need to test it, but it reads like the original,” Tamer said.
Hefting them, Gabe glanced at his forearm. Both compasses lit up as the next name on the list appeared.
“You are the first good news I’ve had in a fucking week,” he said quietly. “How many of these can you make me?”
“That thing cost a fortune,” Tamer replied. “I’ve got enough materials to make you fourteen. If I rope in my assistant, I can produce two a day.”
“Fourteen?” Gabe frowned. “I need a few hundred, and I can’t wait months. I need everything I can get in a week or two.”
“Tell the half-breed to fund it,” Tamer suggested. “If you got people, send them my way. I used machinery to cut the pieces. They can assemble it. I’m the only one who can seal it.”
“Get started. Rhyn won’t say no,” Gabe said.
“If you say so. Hope this keeps that dick off my back for awhile.”
“He knows I’m going through some shit right now. He should leave you alone,” Gabriel agreed. “Do you need the original, or can I keep it?”
“Take them both. I have the specs.”
“Thanks.” Within the week, the death-dealers stuck in the mortal realm could start collecting souls again. A trickle of relief went through him as he realized he was able to fix one of the many issues he faced. He had a feeling the most difficult was the one hiding in the Sanctuary.
“Alright. I’ll check in tomorrow,” Tamer said. “Looks like something exploded.” His gaze was on the blood-soaked sand where Gabe landed.
“Pretty much.”
Tamer shook his head and rose, disappearing into a portal. Gabe climbed to his feet. The sun was down, the afterglow of sunset lingering on the horizon. His trench and shirt were shredded and his favorite sword shattered, along with the majority of his other weapons. He gathered the three daggers that survived.
His gaze went to the Sanctuary. Reluctantly, he walked up the sloping hill and to the door that opened automatically for its master, unlike the portal home. He glared at it and strode into the well-lit courtyard of the Sanctuary.
He sensed Deidre but didn’t go to her, instead walking through the open-aired hallways until he reached the quarters reserved for him. Pushing the door open with his foot, he dropped the contents of his arms on the bed and opened the dresser drawers. There were no trench coats outside of the underworld he’d consider wearing, but he pulled on a soft black t-shirt and strapped a few sheaths to his body.
Ready, he left his room and walked through the courtyard.
“You’re not going to see her?” Daniela’s voice was heavy with disapproval.
“If she’s in danger, I’ll know.”
“Danger isn’t the problem.”
“She’s safe here. That’s all that concerns me,” he replied in a hard tone.
“She’s scared, Gabriel.”
Gabe paused then forced himself to continue. He’d deal with her after he issued orders to his assassins.
He crossed through the shadow world to the lake near Rhyn’s, emerging near Harmony.
“Take these,” he said, tossing the compasses to her.
She caught them.
“These will be replacing our broken radars.” He stopped beside her, gaze on the lake that glowed green in the quiet night. “Pick someone as quick as you and start collecting souls. The demons are gathering the ones we’re missing. We’ve gotta curb the damage as much as possible.”
“Will do,” she said. “Forty seven lakes.” She added before he could ask.
“Good. We’re bringing all the souls to this one and sending everyone but five guards to the Ancient Tamer. As soon as another compass is ready, send a dealer out with it.”
She nodded. “I’ll issue the orders.”
They stood in silence for a moment, eyes on the eerie lake. Gabe was beginning to feel like he’d be able to clean up the soul mess. He had no way of knowing how many the demons had claimed during the week his dealers had claimed none. Hopefully, they grappled with the same problems locating the souls.
He had little time to redeem himself, and he kicked himself mentally for not walking into the room that would turn him into the Death he was supposed to be. Whatever powers that room contained, he was in desperate need of them. His predecessor had seemed much stronger. Gabriel felt again he was missing something huge, the key to assuming the power he hadn’t inherited with his responsibilities.
“Are you okay?” Harmony asked at last.
“Rough few days,” he replied. He glanced at her, noticing for the first time that she was worn out. “If you need to rest, take a break before you go hunting.”
“I’d rather go home,” she admitted. “I’m used to the trees putting me to sleep at night. It’s hard to sleep in a forest that’s not …alive.” Her gaze went to the pine trees with suspicion.
Death, a word, if you please. Deidre’s place.
Gabriel cocked his head to the side at the polite summons. The timing for the demon lord to request an audience couldn’t have been worse.
“Soon,” he assured her. “I’m getting my shit together, little by little.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it is. But I’m fixing it. We’ll get home. Promise.”
Some tension faded from her frame. She sighed.
“It looks like the messaging system is back up.”
“Oh, thank gods!” Harmony exclaimed. “You know how hard it is to track down everyone one-by-one to relay orders?”
“Take a break, Harmony,” he told her. “I’ve gotta go. We’ll catch up later.”
She nodded and kneaded her temples with her fingertips.
Gabriel left, returning to De
idre’s apartment. The dead demons were gone, but someone was waiting for him. Gabriel rubbed his rough jaw. It was sandpapery, covered by two days of stubble. He needed a razor and a trench coat to begin feeling normal again. He didn’t see the demon that summoned him and waited a moment before speaking.
“Odd place for a meeting.”
“Neither your domain nor mine. We are equals here.” Darkyn, the demon lord charged with heading the Dark One’s armies of demons, emerged from a dark hallway. His pointed teeth rested on his lower lip, his dark eyes displaying the intelligence of a being that existed from the time-before-time. Lean and youthful, he was unthreatening in appearance but the single most lethal creature Gabriel knew.
“Everyone comes to me,” Gabriel reminded him. “Even you.”
“Not today.”
“I’m not the talker past-Death was. Spit it out, Darkyn,” Gabriel ordered.
“You visited Fate but not my master?” Darkyn asked. “It displeased him.”
“Your master,” Gabe replied. He fell quiet, studying Darkyn. Assuming the role of Death heightened his senses about dealing with Immortals. Darkyn wasn’t giving off the same vibe that other demons – who were roughly equivalent to Immortals in the food chain – gave off.
Darkyn’s quiet power was more like Fate’s.
“When did this transition happen?” Gabriel asked.
“Not long ago. When my master recalled me from exile, we had a talk. I won and took over,” Darkyn said. “I prefer to keep under the radar. The demons and Immortals don’t need to fear what they don’t know.”
“So you can operate freely between worlds.”
“Much like you. I’m invoking Immortal Code, rule 7,340: secrets between deities ....”
“… remain between deities.” Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Your mate owes me a debt.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What debt?”
“You didn’t wonder how past-Deidre learned of the loophole that let her become mortal? With her very own soul?”
“I assume she lost a bet with Fate.”
“That was part of it, I hear. In either case, she owes my predecessor for the knowledge he gave her.”
Immortal Code, Rule 9: All deals made between deities shall be recorded by the Oracle.
“Assuming this is true, what was the price?” Gabriel asked.
“You mean who was the price?” Darkyn’s smile was cunning. “A certain Immortal. Care to guess?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. Even if she promised him a soul, I have discretion on when I claim it,” Gabe said.
“You misunderstand,” Darkyn replied. “She didn’t offer up a living Immortal. She agreed to return the soul of one who is dead-dead. That was the condition of the deal.”
Gabe’s hands clenched. It was a violation of multiple rules within the Immortal Code. No part of him doubted she’d done it. Worse, if she made the commitment, he was obligated to fulfill it.
“Whose is it?” he demanded.
“Wynn.”
“The father of the Council That Was Seven?” Gabriel asked, not understanding why the Dark One chose the Immortal that was his archenemy for thousands of years.
Darkyn shrugged. “My master’s reasons were his own. The debt was incurred before I took over. I am simply collecting on the debt, as is my obligation.”
“I have to verify it with the Oracle first.”
“As you wish.”
“Anything else?” Gabriel asked, sensing there was more to the demon lord’s journey from Hell. “Like why your demons are stalking this woman?” He gestured to the apartment.
“She …left something for me.”
Surprised by the response, Gabriel followed Darkyn’s eyes around the apartment.
“Rather, past-Deidre did,” Darkyn added. “I’ve not been able to locate it.”
“Let me know what it is. I’ll help you search,” Gabriel said wryly.
“Perhaps in time. I will find it, Gabriel.” The threat in his growl was apparent.
“Hope I find it first. I’d love to have a bargaining chip,” Gabriel said.
“It’s a personal vendetta. Mine, not my predecessor’s. There’s no record of this.”
“Gods. I’ll add your name to the list of enemies. Never heard of someone in your position making an unofficial deal.”
“It’s more of a personal debt. One you are not obligated to pay but she was.”
At the end of his patience with the cryptic demon, Gabriel left. He returned to the Sanctuary, to the Oracle, who was busy scribbling. He flipped backwards in the book to the portion that no longer changed.
“Show me the deal past-Death made with the Dark One,” he ordered the book.
A vision formed before him. Gabe watched it, anger stirring as the Oracle confirmed Darkyn’s story about bringing back a dead-dead immortal. The deal was made before Darkyn assumed the helm of Hell.
Immortal Code, Rule 302: Debts incurred by a deity shall not expire and shall be transferred to successors until settled.
“Show me this personal debt between past-Death and Darkyn.”
No images formed. If past-Death and Darkyn made any kind of deal, the Oracle would have record of it.
Was it possible to make a private deal, outside the visibility of the other deities?
Gabriel leaned against the lectern. Unable to tamper with Fate’s court anymore than Death could, the Dark One was taking a risk at wanting Wynn raised from the dead-dead. While he had to fulfill the debt past-Death incurred, Gabriel at least might postpone it until he had time to warn Rhyn. He’d never thought of being locked out of the underworld as an advantage, but the soul Darkyn wanted wasn’t likely one of those in the lakes on the mortal world.
Gabriel’s eyes drifted in the direction where he sensed Deidre was. Desire and yearning crept into him, knowing she was so close. Doubting she’d welcome him, he was drawn to her in a way he wasn’t going to be able to fight for long.
What did Darkyn want from Deidre? What kind of deal had past-Deidre made that the Oracle didn’t record?
Gabriel rubbed his jaw and strode out of the Oracle’s small room. He followed the instinct that led him to Deidre and trotted up the stairs leading to the top of the fortress. His step slowed as he saw her leaning against the wall, gazing into the darkness. Her features were drawn in the moonlight, and there were circles under her eyes. Her petite, shapely body was clothed in jeans and a tank top. The sight of his name across her shoulders made his body hot with anger and need that left him frustrated. He was so close … and couldn’t touch her the way he yearned to.
The ocean breeze brought the familiar scent of brandy. Gabe approached and stopped behind her, claiming the alcohol with one hand. She jumped. Gabe tossed the brandy over the side of the fortress wall and caught her as she tried to escape. The softness of her body combined with the power of their bond jarred him.
“Leave me alone!” she cried.
“I just need a minute,” he said in a calm, level voice. He released her, not wanting to make this worse. He braced his arms on either side of her. She didn’t face him. She leaned against the wall, trembling visibly.
The sight disturbed him more than he wanted it to. Daniela said she was scared. Gabe saw she was more- Deidre was terrified. Of him. He found himself hating the feeling instead of relishing it, like he thought he would if their roles were ever reversed. He didn’t want her to fear him. It probably didn’t help that she was drunk.
Pensive, he swallowed hard and finally admitted that he didn’t want her to be his by obligation, the way he’d been enslaved to past-Deidre. He took a deep breath, making a decision he knew he’d probably regret.
“I need your head clear,” he said, irritated about the alcohol. He rested his hand on the base of her neck, the warm energy of their bond moving through him. As tempted as he was to read her mind, he didn’t. He cleared it, pushing aside the haze of alcohol and the pain he
sensed but didn’t understand the source of. It was physical discomfort, not mental, and he was relieved to feel she was in no great mental pain from the loss of her boyfriend.
Her shaking stopped at his touch, the warmth of their connection and his magic soothing her. Her head nodded forward, and her breathing grew steady again. Her shoulders were still hunched, as if she waited for him to hack off her head.
“First, a couple of rules,” he started. “One, no alcohol. Two, no more suicide attempts.”
She said nothing.
“There are more, but we’ll start there. Understood?” He kept his voice firm and cold, unwilling to give on either point.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Second, a compromise.” His tone grew yielding. “We are …bound by magic older than time. It creates an obligation for me that I must honor. However, the same is not true for you. The laws and magic governing the mate of an Immortal are much more forgiving. You have no such duty to me.”
He paused, grappling with the truth. He’d never thought he’d hear himself admit it to any woman who became his mate, especially not to her. The urge to claim her was strong, but so was the need to let her have the choice he never had.
“It’s your decision whether or not you want to stay with me. We are bound either way, but if you choose to walk away from me, I …will respect your decision. No matter what, I’ll continue to honor my obligations and protect you.”
She was listening. Gabe clenched his jaw. He was putting himself at her mercy again, except that, this time, he had the power and chose not to use it. This part of his life was in the hands of Fate, who would probably be pleased.
Gabe was not. Her womanly scent teased him, the heat of her nearness reminding him of how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. He dropped his hand from her body before he turned into a liar about letting her choose.
She said nothing.
Gabe waited a few more minutes then forced himself to leave. Uncertain what he expected, his anger was boiling at the silent rejection. He’d extended an olive branch and come back empty-handed. Like old times. Doing the right thing never felt as dissatisfactory as it did this night.
He left the Sanctuary to help his dealers consolidate the souls. He had to determine if the one he owed Darkyn was present or not and then warn Rhyn that the half-demon’s Immortal father would soon no longer be dead-dead.