Ganriel

by D. B. Reynolds

  Gabriel came up behind her. “I think you can trust Juro and Ken’ichi to make sure they leave, älskling.” His mouth twitched with hidden laughter when she turned to look up at him.

  She studied him for a moment, then took his hand. “Come on, I bought you some clothes and stuff. You need to try them on.”

  “I have clothes—”

  “These are better. Come on.” She tugged at his hand, and he followed with an amused shrug.

  “I am yours to command.”

  Hana snorted. “I wish,” she said, then winced, hoping she hadn’t given too much away. Fuck the clothes. She needed to get him alone so they could talk. Seeing Grace and Kato together, not just their affection, but the intimacy of their relationship, made her realize she wanted that, too. With Gabriel. She knew how she felt, but what about him? It terrified her. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if his feelings for her were those of a brother, or just a bodyguard? She’d be crushed. She swallowed hard. Still, even if he didn’t love her like that, she wouldn’t leave him. Not until he was safe.

  GABRIEL FOLLOWED Hana down a long hallway, and then another. He hadn’t truly appreciated the size of Raphael’s estate. He’d been so sick when they arrived last night, and then there’d been the sheer intoxication of Raphael’s blood. Juro had taken him downstairs after that. He remembered the big vampire pointing out the various features, some of which he understood, some he didn’t. There was a huge gym, with a variety of recognizable equipment—not because he’d used any of it, but because others were working with it, and he could see the potential benefits. Juro had also run down a list of martial arts disciplines practiced by Raphael and his vampires, none of which was familiar to Gabriel. There’d been no formal martial arts in his time. Lessons had been learned on the battlefield, for the most part, with some early instruction at the brutal hands of his father’s weapons master. After the gym, they had come a room filled with oversized furniture, with a TV screen that took up most of an entire wall, and a variety of electronic devices that he assumed were gaming platforms. He knew about com­puter games, though of course, he’d never played. One more item on his growing list of new things to learn. When he’d come back to life in Himura-san’s garden, it had been a true reawakening, but he was just beginning to realize how different this new world really was.

  “Here we are,” Hana said, finally opening a door that looked like all the others along the hallway. She left the door open for him, as she crossed the room to a big window and pulled back the sheer coverings. There was nothing but a moon-filled sky, and as he drew closer, the restless churning of a black ocean. Hana pulled back the window and stepped out onto a balcony.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes closed as she raised her face to the salty, wet air.

  “Beautiful,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the view beyond the balcony. His attention was all for Hana’s lovely face, her expression one of such peace that he would have envied her, if not for the pleasure he took from it. He wanted her to be happy here. He wanted her to stay. Not because she thought he needed her, but because she wanted to stay with him.

  He looked away before she caught him staring. She’d already done so much in getting him out of Japan and to the safety of Raphael’s estate. He had no right to expect anything else from her. Certainly not the kind of relationship he longed for, the feelings he had for her.

  “Come on,” she said, taking his hand and tugging him back inside. “You need to try on your new clothes.”

  Gabriel followed, somewhat bemused at the idea of Hana shopping for him. In his previous life, he hadn’t cared much about what he wore. Was that the right way to think of what had happened before his curse? It wasn’t truly a previous life, since he’d been alive and aware the entire time. The entire, endless, fucking time. He shook himself, wishing he could shake off the horror of those thousands of years so easily.

  “Hey, you with me?” Hana’s inquiry was spoken gently, as if he was a frightened animal she didn’t want to startle. Fuck that.

  He smiled. “I’m just trying to imagine myself needing so many clothes.” He gestured at the piles of pants and shirts, the boxes of shoes. “Were you not sure of the size? Will the rest be given to someone else?”

  She laughed. “Welcome to the new world, baby. You’re going to need all of this, you’ll see. As for the size . . . let me tell you, Cyn is like the ultimate personal shopper. She can take one look at a person and nail their measurements right down to the perfect shoe size. Look at this!” She spun around to the closet and pulled out a dress made of what looked like rough silk. It was the color of aged amber and brought out the beautiful gold of Hana’s skin.

  “Maybe you should be the one trying things on, so I can watch,” he said appreciatively, then wished he could take back his words. He wanted nothing more than to have the privilege of watching Hana take her clothes off, but it was inappropriate for him to. . . . His thoughts stuttered to a halt when Hana blushed, seeming pleased at his comment, rather than glaring at him in affront. He blinked, wondering if the desire he’d seen flash through her dark eyes had been real, or simply his wishful imagination.

  Seeming flustered—his Hana flustered?—she held the dress to herself and said, “If you like this one, I could wear it when we go to dinner with Kato and the others.”

  Gabriel frowned. The dress was sleeveless and short, and he didn’t like the idea of his Hana baring so much skin in front of his brothers. Kato was obviously very much taken by Grace, but Damian. . . . The self-proclaimed god of war wasn’t known for his fidelity when it came to women. Of course, he admitted to himself, none of them had been paragons of abstinence back in the day. It had been a different woman every other night, if they’d lasted that long.

  Even so, Damian was a force of nature. And Gabriel didn’t want—

  “You’re thinking way too hard,” Hana said, smiling. “How about this one instead?” She produced a black dress, with long sleeves and a more modest hemline . . . and no back at all.

  “What do you wear under it?” he growled.

  She laughed in delight. “Come on, try on your stuff before you have a heart attack, old man.” She tossed four pairs of pants at him. “Let’s see if Cyn is as good as I think she is.”

  Gabriel changed in the bathroom, ignoring Hana’s suggestion that she could wait out on the balcony if he wanted to change in the bigger room. He had confidence in Raphael’s security, but no one was good enough to prevent a determined attack from the water. It was dark out there, the ocean so black that if not for the moon’s silvery light, it would be invisible. And he knew what modern weapons could do in the right hands.

  “Stay inside,” he ordered, before closing the bathroom door. It took longer to remove his old clothes than it did to put on the new ones. The fasteners were so much more efficient, the fabrics soft and flexible, but still strong. Pulling on one of the T-shirts, he walked back into the bedroom. “These are amazing.”

  Hana’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Yes, they are,” she said, sounding out of breath. “I guess Cyn really does know how to pick ‘em. By the way, she says whenever we’re ready, one of the guys will take us down to the armory for weapons and body armor. Raphael apparently likes to be fully stocked.”

  “Powerful men always have enemies,” Gabriel commented.

  “Cyn hinted at some recent attacks, but I got the impression they never take chances. Security’s always tight.” Hana strolled over. “Now that you’re one of the guys, you’ll get the inside story,” she murmured, running an appreciative hand down his chest, admiring the fit of his new shirt, her slender fingers lingering over his muscled chest.

  He cleared his throat, fighting the urge to wrap an arm around her waist and tug her closer. “I’m not one of Raphael’s men yet, but I want to stay here, if he’ll have me.”

  “I kn
ow that,” she said, looking up to meet his eyes. “I see it in your face every time you talk about him. He saved your life.”

  “But that’s not why I’ll give him my blood oath. When he fed me last night . . . I can’t explain how, but . . . I saw into his soul, Hana. I saw his pain and his courage, the love he feels for every vampire under his care. You probably don’t believe this, but Nico was like that, too. He valued every man and woman in his armies, even if he didn’t know all their names. And he truly believed that we fought on the side of good, for the survival of humanity.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “You don’t believe that about Nico anymore?”

  “I do, but that was a different time, maybe even a different world. Who knows where that damn curse sent us? But it doesn’t matter, because we’re here in this world now. Me, all of us, even Kato and Damian. Our lives are forever intertwined by our past, but we’re not the same people we were then. I’m not the same person. I’m a vampire, and I belong with Lord Raphael.” He ran a hand through his hair, hoping he was making sense. He was a warrior, not a wordsmith, but he needed her to understand that he wasn’t making this decision lightly, that he had good reasons. And that none of those reasons meant abandoning her. She was the most important person in his life. “I don’t want you to feel trapped,” he said, struggling for the right words. “My decision isn’t yours. If you ever—”

  HANA MADE AN impatient noise. The man had no idea what he meant to her. Stepping closer, she braced her hands on his waist. “If you belong here, then I do, too. With you.” She held his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity of her words, but decided that words were not going to be enough for her stubborn warrior. Rising up onto her toes, she touched her mouth to his. His response was hesitant at first, as if he expected a fleeting embrace, a kiss between friends. But she didn’t let go. She deepened the kiss instead, pressing her body against his as she stretched to wrap her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts against the hard planes of that fabulous chest.

  Gabriel groaned, the sound rumbling between them where their chests were mashed together. She gave a soft moan, and he started to pull back, as if afraid he’d been too rough, that he’d taken the kiss too far.

  “This isn’t . . . I made a promise to your grandfather that I would protect you. I shouldn’t—”

  Hana slapped his chest. “I’m not a child, damn it. I don’t need protection. I’m a fully grown woman who wants you as a man, not a guardian. But fine”—she pushed away impatiently—“if you’re not interested, the world is full of men who will be. Cyn tells me the guards have a party downstairs every Saturday. That’s tonight, so I’ll just—”

  Gabriel yanked her back against his body, his arms tightening until her feet were barely touching the floor. “No man will touch you,” he growled.

  “Not even you, is that it?” she retorted.

  He glared down at her, reading the challenge in her eyes, the stubborn set of her jaw. She was no longer the girl given into his care by her grandfather. She hadn’t been that for a long time, and he was tired of pretending. She was his. Not as a helpless child to protect, but as a woman, sensuous and beautiful. His woman. “Damn you.” And then he was kissing her, his mouth hot and demanding, his tongue sweeping between her lips, stroking over her mouth, twisting around her tongue as if to claim every inch of her. “No other man will touch you as long as I’m alive.”

  Hana kissed him back, scraping her nails over the back of his neck, biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, tasting that same blood when she soothed the wound with a lick of her tongue. Desire flooded her system at that small intimacy, her nipples abruptly so hard and swollen where they scraped against his chest it was as if there were no clothes between them. Wet heat stirred between her thighs, and she remembered what Cyn had told her about a vampire’s bite. If that tiny taste of his blood could make her this hungry for him. . . . Or maybe it was just Gabriel. Her Gabriel. He felt so damn good, his body so big and warm, and . . . oh, fuck, his erection was long and hard against her belly, undeniable proof that he felt something for her, too. Even if it was only lust. She could work with lust. Hell, she wanted to work with lust when it came to Gabriel. She tried to remember if they’d locked the door, then tried to remember if she cared. The bed was right there. One small step and . . .

  Someone knocked on the door, and they both froze, breathing hard, waiting to see if the visitor would go away. The knock came again. Hana’s forehead fell to his shoulder as Gabriel groaned softly. His arms loosened, and her feet touched the ground.

  “I should probably see who that is,” she whispered.

  Gabriel smiled and licked his lips.

  “Stop that,” she hissed, thinking how unfair the world was. Hadn’t they been through enough? Hadn’t they both lost enough? The world couldn’t give them ten fucking minutes . . . okay, sixty fucking minutes alone to . . . well . . . fuck?

  Straightening her clothes, she walked over to the door and pulled it open. Juro stood there, huge and silent and wearing a look that said he knew exactly what they’d been up to. Who cared? They were both single and free.

  Juro smiled, as if reading her mind. “Lord Raphael would like to see you. Both of you.”

  GABRIEL DELAYED LONG enough to give his cock a chance to calm down, using the time to pull on his new boots, which fit far better than any he’d ever worn. Hana used the time to change as well, emerging from the bathroom wearing a simple, short-sleeved top and a pair of black, stretchy pants, which hugged her firm thighs and showed a flash of flat abdomen when she raised her arm to brush her hair.

  Standing, Gabriel held out his hand, feeling shy—and stupid because of it—for the first time since he’d been a raw teenager. He knew women. He loved women. Women loved him. But this was Hana. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t still stuck in that damn statue, lost in dreams of what his life might have been.

  Hana’s strong, slender fingers squeezed his, anchoring him in this new world, in the reality of his new life. She came close and looked up, searching his face. “You okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Nervous?”

  “No,” he answered truthfully. At least not about meeting Raphael. Her hand around his, her warm body pressed against his side. . . . Yeah, that made him nervous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because he knew how easily everything he loved could be taken away in an instant. “Come on. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

  She hummed in agreement. “And the sooner we finish business, the sooner we can get back here and—”

  “Stop,” he pleaded softly. “I don’t think Raphael will be impressed with a warrior who can’t walk because his cock is too hard.”

  Her laughter filled the hallway as he closed the door. The sweet sound made him smile. Such a small thing, a woman’s laugh. But it was those small things he’d missed the most. Not the grand victories, as glorious and exciting as they’d been. But the crackle of a warm fire, the rumble of a brother’s voice, a hand clasped in friendship after a long, bloody day. He gritted his teeth against a wave of emotion. He doubted tears would impress Raphael either. Hana squeezed his hand again in silent support, and they walked down the hall together. He couldn’t fix the past, but he could secure his future, their future. And that future lay with Raphael.

  The forbidding, black doors to Raphael’s office swung open on silent hinges as they approached, before Gabriel had even raised his hand to knock. He smiled. It made him feel better, to know that even the most powerful vampire lord felt the need to impress sometimes. Especially when the only person being impressed was a lowly warrior coming to plead his case. He almost laughed then. He was no lowly warrior, no matter how humble he pretended to be. He was one of the finest warriors to ever grace a battlefield, a tremendous asset to any lord in the midst of war. And from everything he’d seen and heard since arriving on this e
state, Raphael was at war. There were no headlines in newspapers, no alerts blaring across television screens, however. Vampires preferred their wars to be fought quietly and out of the public eye. But people still died. It would be Gabriel’s duty to make sure it was only Raphael’s enemies who perished, not any of his own people, and not anyone Gabriel loved. He glanced down at Hana and found her looking up at him. She winked, and they walked into the office together.

  “My lord,” Gabriel said immediately, bowing his head in respect.

  Cyn grinned at the two of them from where she stood behind the desk, her body pressed up against Raphael’s chair, with one of his hands gripping the back of her thigh. It was a relaxed pose, as if they habitually stood this way, although Gabriel had to wonder if Cyn didn’t sometimes get tired of standing. He pushed aside the stray thought as the doors swept silently closed behind him.

  “Gabriel. Hana. Have a seat,” Raphael said, gesturing at several chairs in front of his desk. Jared had stood when they walked in, but he now sat back down in the farthest chair, while Juro remained standing. His twin brother, Ken’ichi, was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was a sign that the vampire lord no longer felt the need for extra protection against Gabriel. Or maybe, Gabriel thought wryly to himself, he never had, and Ken’ichi was simply off getting breakfast. Or dinner. What did vampires call their first meal of the evening, anyway?

  More random thoughts which had no place in his head right now. Maybe he was more nervous than he’d admitted to Hana.

  Gabriel waited until Hana was settled and then took his own seat, grateful when she rested her hand lightly on his arm. Raphael’s sharp gaze took in the gesture, his mouth curving into the slightest smile when he looked back at Gabriel.

  “How was your meeting with Kato? We found no blood in the conference room,” he said dryly, “so I assume it went reasonably well.”