Juliette moved past them and out the back door. The night was coming on them quick, but when Juliette looked left, toward the treacherous cliffs that protected the east face of the castle, the glow from a swinging light caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks and squinted through the gathering darkness and creeping fog. The lamplight hovered above the edge of the cliff—and then disappeared, ducking down beneath the rocks that plummeted to the sea a hundred feet below.
Alarm shot through her. Juliette gathered her skirts and began to run. She tripped over a patch of thistle, barely caught herself in time, and continued to run, lifting her legs higher this time. But the light was fading, and at once, she realized she couldn’t see the dividing line between cliff—and sky.
She slowed her steps, skidding a bit as loose gravel crumbled beneath her boots and went tripping over the cliff’s rocky ledge to disappear below. Juliette was breathing hard; her heart hammered. Something was wrong. Something niggled at the back of her mind, making her fingers tingle and her legs grow weak
She quieted her breath and listened. When the crashing waves receded and grew fainter, she could make out the sound of men’s voices—down below. Carefully, she got down onto her hands and knees and then lowered herself onto her stomach. Deftly, she pulled herself to the ledge and peeked one eye over the black rocks.
She had been right. It was a lantern she’d seen. There was a rowboat in the tiny cove and there were half a dozen men milling about on the wet rocks. Smugglers, Juliette thought. The authorities of Cruden Bay had recently been out to the castle, looking for signs of them.
The smugglers were carrying crates full of bottles. Though netting and cloth covered most of the boxes, Juliette could see the outline of several of the bottles sticking out beneath the full moon. The men were setting these boxes into the small caves that had been formed over time by the rising and lowering water. The tide was moving in with the coming night and the men seemed to know it; they were working quickly. Juliette wondered what was in the bottles.
And then one of the men looked up. Juliette scooted back, her breath caught in her throat, her heart leaping painfully. There was a shout from below and she knew she’d been seen.
Quickly, she shoved herself up and spun around. But as she did, her skirts got caught beneath her boot. The rocks crumbled once more, slip-sliding down the face of the cliffs. She had just enough time to realize she was falling, to feel the open air around her and the lack of gravity, before her body was wrenched violently in several directions at once.
“Juliette!”
The wrenching continued, but it was gentler now. Confusion danced around Juliette in colorful motes and darkness. She tried to blink them away, but chaos lingered, making up down and down up, and her fingers clutched something warm and hard as she desperately tried to hold on.
I’m falling. . . .
“Shh, lass, I’m here,” crooned a deep, accented voice. She knew that voice. She clung to it, closing her eyes to let it wrap around her in place of the torment that had tried to pull her apart.
Gabriel . . . His arms were wrapped around her, tight and secure. His warm, strong body was pressed against hers, instantly chasing away her chill, keeping the distress of her dream at bay. My dream, she thought. No. It was more than that.
My memory . . . my death.
“Lass, wha’ were you dreamin’?” Gabriel asked, his tone infinitely concerned. His words whispered across the top of her head, his fingers deftly, gently brushing her long hair out of her eyes. She kept them shut, willing the rest of the world away. She couldn’t answer him. Her heart was still beating too hard and she felt a little sick.
“All right, little one,” he whispered, slowly rocking her back and forth. “It’s all right.”
It wasn’t until several minutes of rocking, comforting silence had passed that Juliette found the will to open her eyes. She saw the bed first, then the crumbling castle walls with their tapestries and the open windows with their white curtains billowing in the breeze—and then she looked up at Gabriel. The full moon hung ominously low over his broad shoulder, reflecting the flashing silver in his eyes. His expression was starkly concerned.
“Och, lass, you’re shakin’,” he said softly, curling his fingers beneath her chin as if to get a better look at her.
I remember it, she thought. God, I remember it all. . . .
“Wha’s hauntin’ you?” he asked, leaning forward to gently place a kiss on her forehead. Juliette closed her eyes and absorbed it, allowing it to chase away a bit more of her memory. His thumb tenderly brushed along her cheekbone. She opened her eyes. “Tell me,” he urged softly.
“I’ve been here before,” she said then. Her tone was flat, her voice strange. She kept going. “I’ve been to Slains Castle.”
Gabriel frowned, shaking his head slightly. “When, lass?”
“That’s just it,” she said, choking as a sob worked its way up her throat from her chest. She shoved it back down and shook her head, shrugging. “I don’t know. But . . . it was a long time ago.”
Gabriel looked down at her for a long time. His eyes searched her face, her eyes, almost looking through her. Finally, he cocked his head to one side and took her by her upper arms, squeezing gently. “How long ago?”
Juliette steeled herself. She swallowed hard and went still in his grasp. “It was another lifetime, Gabriel,” she whispered. A wave crashed onto the shore beneath the cliffs and then receded again. Juliette stared into Gabriel’s eyes and forced the words past her lips. “I died here.”
* * *
Daniel knew the archangel wouldn’t be able to sense him at this distance, especially with the wind picking up the way it was. It looked as though a storm was on the way, building just out over the water beyond the cliffs of Cruden Bay. He was safely sequestered in the darkness behind a copse on the opposite side of the road from where Gabriel had parked his little red rental car. Out here, he didn’t have to use his invisibility, which would allow him to save his strength.
He would need that strength. Gabriel’s brothers had all been out there earlier in the night, each of them using their unique and strange ability to “teleport” to get here. For some reason, they had needed the car—Daniel had no idea what that was all about. He was positive that the vehicle was a rental and that there was nothing special about it.
Clearly, there was much about the Four Favored that Daniel and his brothers didn’t understand. But it didn’t matter right now. Gabriel’s brothers were gone and had been for hours. The former Messenger was alone with his archess in that castle and Daniel knew damned well what they’d been doing.
So, he bided his time. When the full moon was high and bright in the sky, Daniel draped himself in invisibility and made his way quickly down the path, being sure to keep a wide berth of the castle. He’d lost one of his shard guns in the jailhouse when he’d attacked Gabriel, but he’d left the Adarian headquarters with two, and he still had the other.
As he approached the castle’s north side, he noticed a glow from somewhere deeper within the stone structure. He wasn’t surprised. It was a cold night and they had probably started a fire.
But as he drew closer still, he noticed that it was more than just the glow that was off. There were subtle details—the paths had been neatly cleared, some of the walls seemed stabilized, and he could actually catch the hint of what looked like curtains billowing in the breeze from somewhere on the second level.
Gabriel and his brothers had been busy, it seemed. How fucking romantic.
Daniel’s gaze narrowed, his will resolved. The plan was simple. He was going to shoot the archangel point-blank until the damn gun was empty. Then he was going to take Juliette, knock her out, and carry her to the cute little red car that Gabriel had so conveniently placed at the end of the trail. He would drive the car a mile, trade it with his own stolen vehicle, and continue until he reached the abandoned building where he had set everything up.
Then he would drain
Juliette Anderson dry and drink her blood.
At that thought, dizziness swept over Daniel and he had to stop and rub his cold hand over his hot face. He felt sick at the idea of killing such a precious creature. The archesses were . . . Daniel shook his head. It did no good to dwell on the task ahead of him. He simply needed to do it and be done with it. Once he ingested her blood, as long as he did it right, he would be able to absorb her very special healing power. And with that, he would hopefully become invaluable to his general.
Life could go on as normal. He would no longer have to be afraid that Abraxos would come after him. And he would no longer have to run. It was worth it.
Daniel took a slow, deep breath and continued toward the castle. He could now see that one of the inner rooms had been refurbished. As the rest of the castle rested in ruins, what looked like the master’s chamber had been reinforced, decorated, and warmed by hearth fire.
There was a bed in the room; Daniel could see the figures atop it from where he stood outside the castle walls. The archangel Gabriel sat on the bed, his eyes closed, his archess pulled tightly to his chest. They were both undressed. Daniel wondered why the wind didn’t seem to touch them and chill them to the core.
More archangel magic, he thought grimly. Or maybe it was the archess herself. He’d heard that they could control the weather. The soft sound of a sob carried to him on the next breeze and Daniel frowned. Juliette was crying. . . . What had happened? Had Gabriel hurt her during their lovemaking?
He fiercely shook his head once, forcing himself not to care. It doesn’t matter, he thought. This is all going to be over soon.
He let his invisibility drop, knowing he would need all his strength and that the cloak wouldn’t protect him from the archangel’s ability to sense him anyway. He was close enough now; it was only a matter of time.
And then Gabriel went utterly still where he sat on the bed. His stark eyes flashed open and gazed over the top of Juliette’s head. Green met silver on what was sure to become a battlefield, and Daniel pulled his gun.
* * *
Gabriel sensed him a half second before he saw him. The static, abrasive sensation was carried to him on the wind and he opened his eyes. The Adarian stood just outside the castle walls, his green eyes narrowed on the couple in the master chamber.
There was no indecision. Gabriel seemed to click into autopilot, all his defenses rising to the occasion. He moved forward on the bed, shoving Juliette behind him, and used his powers to turn the sheet over their bodies to pure gold. It became instantly heavy in his arms, but he was an archangel; such things barely mattered to his kind. He raised the sheet with no time to spare.
The shard blast struck the material, seemed to dilute, and dispersed across the makeshift shield with a crackling energy. However, part of its insidious power wrapped itself around Gabriel’s hand where he held the sheet. He gritted his teeth as his fingers began to solidify.
“Gabriel!” Juliette was on her knees behind him, her hand on his shoulder a death grip.
“Stay behind me!” he commanded. The ancient doorway to the master’s chamber was only a few yards away. Gabriel had never tried to open a portal through a doorway that lacked a door before. In the thousands of years that he and his brothers had used the mansion to travel around the world, it had just never occurred to any of them to try. Would it work now?
Below, the Adarian had disappeared. Whether that meant he was now moving at breakneck speed through the castle on his way to the second floor or he had actually become invisible, Gabriel had no idea. He could still feel the Adarian there. In fact, the nearly painful vibration in the air was becoming stronger.
Gabriel reached back, grabbed Juliette’s arm, and hauled her out of the bed. “Sorry, luv!” he apologized, knowing he was most likely bruising her. But there was no time for gentleness—no time for anything but a rapid escape. Juliette didn’t make a sound. She simply stood with him, trying her best to keep up with his strength and speed. She was a brave lass. A trouper.
Gabriel raised his half-solidified hand toward the archway that had once been a door and concentrated on opening the portal.
At once, he knew something was wrong. It didn’t feel the same. The portal began to swirl to life, as he had hoped, but it was darker—denser. He had wanted to open a doorway into his own home on the shores of Harris. It had been the first place that had occurred to him. However, the image that appeared at the eye of the portal was unfamiliar to him. It was dark and draped in a thick fog. There was an archway there; he could see it as it appeared and disappeared behind the blanket of mist.
A horrid sound ripped through the air behind Gabriel, and Juliette screamed. The shard blast hit him in the back of the neck. Juliette was short enough that she’d been missed altogether. Gabriel had enough time to realize that he couldn’t breathe before a second sound tore through the night, this one far louder than the first.
Lightning split the sky behind him, charging the master’s chamber with white-hot might. It was as if a massive flashbulb exploded, capturing the earth in total stillness for an eternal second. All other sound became silence in the wake of the mighty roar. Gabriel couldn’t turn his head, but he didn’t need to. He knew what had happened. Juliette had called lightning upon the Adarian.
His stormy little angel.
I need air, he thought. The shard blast had solidified the top part of his back and lungs and seemed to have swelled his throat closed. His head began to pound, but his next thought was for Juliette. His grip on her arm was still fast. He used it to pull her after him through the portal and into the mystery that waited beyond.
His bare feet touched upon wet grass and damp dirt and he kept going, making sure they were both fully through the portal before he again concentrated on closing it. He had to turn his entire body in order to see through the swirling gateway behind him. He saw the master chamber of Slains Castle growing narrower, as if at the end of a tunnel. At its center was the Adarian, unconscious and immobile on the wooden planks he and his brothers had erected. The shard gun lay a few inches from his unmoving fingers.
Gabriel considered, for half an insane second, going back for the gun. But his vision was tunneling as quickly as the portal was closing. His heart was hammering painfully behind his rib cage. The gun would have to be left behind.
The portal closed with a strange unevenness, again behaving differently than it had in the past. But once it disappeared entirely, Juliette was jerking her wrist out of his grasp and coming around him to stand before him. He could barely look down at her, but he felt her warm hand on his chest well enough. Her touch alone seemed to chase away some of the agony that was now ripping through his body.
And then the warmth became heat and he knew she was healing him. As it had when Eleanore and Michael had healed his body of shard blasts, it hurt when Juliette’s magic invaded his system and chased the evil away. But it hurt less. Maybe it was simply that it was Juliette. Maybe it was something more. He couldn’t have cared in that moment, because his lungs began to expand once more and his throat opened up and he went coughing to the ground. He landed on his knees, dragging in air, and pulled Juliette hard against his chest. As he clutched her to him, he felt his fingers flex and realized she had healed his hand as well.
“Are you okay, lass?” he asked. His voice was a little raspy, but otherwise all right.
Juliette nodded against him, not answering. Gabriel felt her shudder and concern arced through him. She had called lightning on the Adarian. And then she had healed him of two shard blasts. And now she was naked in the grass of a field—God only knew where.
At once, Gabriel was standing, pulling her up with him. “Hold still,” he told her as he imagined her clothed in the garments she’d worn before they had made love. Slowly, he ran his healed hand over her body, hovering several inches from her tender flesh. As he moved, the clothes reappeared, wrapping her in their warmth.
“Okay . . . ,” Juliette whispered, her eyes wide as sh
e watched him work more of his magic. “That’s . . . really cool.”
When he’d finished with her heavy, plush aviator’s jacket, she closed her eyes and hugged herself, clearly pleased to have it back.
“Nice jacket,” he said, offering up a lopsided smile as he began to refashion his own clothing next. When they were both fully dressed and thick, protective boots compressed the grass beneath their feet, Gabriel began to look around. The moon was full and bright and when the fog parted, he caught glimpses of stones.
They were headstones.
“Och, I canno’ believe it. I know where we are,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. He looked up at the stone archway above him and then looked left. As the mists parted with a new gust of wind, he caught sight of names etched into stone. They were standing in the opening of an aboveground crypt. Skull and crossbones symbols, along with Saint Andrew’s crosses, were carved into the ancient rock below the names of those who had died. “Believe it or no’, lass, you most likely have family buried here.”
It was the kirkyard outside the St. Clement’s Church in Rodel, where Alexander MacLeod, a famous war hero and clan leader, had been entombed ages ago. Its grounds bore the names of several members of the MacLeod clan and the MacDonald clan, which crisscrossed and blended through the years until it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart. The church itself was a hollowed-out stone building that had been amazingly preserved and was now fiercely protected.
Gabriel could understand why he and Juliette had been deposited here. His cottage was a mere quarter of a mile down the road and to the east, up against the Rodel shore. This was the closest location the mansion could establish that possessed, not a door, but the remains of one—an arch.
Beside him, Juliette pulled away and began walking toward the back of the crumbling crypt. She seemed still suddenly, lost or hypnotized.
“Juliette?” he asked softly. The sound of her name on his tongue was like an inner caress—a taste of chocolate or a drink of smooth Scotch. Magical. Offhandedly, he wondered if he would always feel that way. “Wha’ is it, lass?”
Messenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels Page 24