Where’s the gun? she thought, noting that neither of them held a weapon. The Adarian must have lost it at some point during their struggle. She tried to search the icy ground for the gun, hunting for a hint of black or silver amid the white and brown. She found it lying in a patch of weeds several yards from Gabriel, but the dark-haired Adarian that she had attacked was standing now, capturing her attention once more. He got his legs beneath him and began to stride toward her.
Juliette’s magic instantly responded to the renewed threat. The stone that had dropped into the earth shifted once more where it lay in the cold ground. The Adarian slowed, his dark gaze cutting to the immense slab of rock. And then she felt more of her strength rip away from her like the peeling of an onion as the stone lifted and tilted menacingly, a massive beast once more free of the bonds of gravity.
The Adarian ducked as the stone soared toward him, but Juliette knew ahead of time what he would do. Her abilities were adjusting, and so was the Callanish stone. It lowered as the Adarian did, and Juliette shut her eyes tight, unable to watch when it trapped him beneath its dense mass in a second spray of dirt and grass.
“Juliette!”
Juliette opened her eyes and spun at the sound of Gabriel’s voice. “Get to the door!” he commanded harshly, gesturing to the door of the tourist shop at the top of the hill. Behind him, the Adarian he had been fighting was just pushing himself up from the ground once more as Gabriel dove third-base style for the shard gun his opponent had dropped. Before he could reach it, the Adarian lifted his right hand and the air rippled before him, a strange iridescent wave of force that draped itself over Gabriel’s prone form and clearly began to crush him beneath it.
Juliette cried out in fear, unable to stop herself from rushing toward him. At the same time, she called the fallen shard gun to her, willing it into her grasp as if she were using the force. It responded, shooting up into the air and throwing itself into her hand. She gripped it hard, ignoring the sting its impact had caused, and aimed it at the Adarian. His amber eyes widened, only for a moment, and then she pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
She pulled it again, just as the Adarian was beginning to relax, his shocked expression melting into one of smug relief. Again, nothing happened.
The Adarian stood slowly, his amber eyes glowing, and moved toward her in easy, purposeful strides. The wind howled, and she groaned as the Adarian she had crushed with the stone began to shift beneath it, very gradually hauling the monstrous rock off himself.
Her heart hammered. She knelt beside Gabriel, but was unable to touch him; a field of hard air had wrapped itself around him, suffocating him and pressing him relentlessly into the ground.
“Let him go!” she screamed at the black man. She knew it was his magic that was doing this. “Let him go and I’ll come with you!”
But the Adarian only smiled and shook his head. “It’s too late for that now, little archess. You’ll come with us anyway.”
A roar of rage worked its way up her throat. Her body felt wrung out by the exorcism of power she’d suffered, but there was enough left there somewhere. It kept her breathing. It made her heart pump blood. It was there—and it rallied at the injustice, focusing on the large man and his ancient, horrible magic.
The sky split open a second time, the wind parted, and white-hot electricity shot through the air, filling it with the heat of a thousand suns. Juliette ducked, hiding her face as the bolt of lightning encompassed the Adarian, enveloping him in a whiteout of cacophonous rage.
She screamed when the sound ripped through her ears and the rumble tore through her body like a cosmic thump. But her hands sank through the now-free air where they had been resting on the Adarian’s force field, and she was once more touching Gabriel’s jet-black hair.
“Gabriel!” she screamed, barely hearing her own voice through the numb ringing in her ears. “Gabriel!” she cried again, not knowing what else to say. But he was breathing; she could see his broad back rising and falling. He slowly heaved himself up with one arm and rolled over, gasping for air. She hurriedly brushed his hair off his forehead with the hand that didn’t hold the shard gun.
She was going to ask him if he was okay, but the earth groaned again and her gaze cut to the large stone slab several yards away. The Adarian she had crushed would be free any second now.
“We have to get out of here,” she said. Her voice still sounded far away, hollow and strange. And weakness was stealing over her now, nearly as potent as a drug.
A few feet away, in the opposite direction, a blond figure stirred on the ground, moaning low and then grunting in pain.
They hadn’t much time.
“Get to the door,” Gabriel repeated between shaky, ragged breaths. He sat up and shot her a fierce look. “Like you should have done,” he reprimanded her.
Juliette ignored the scolding and rose to her feet. A wave of horrible weakness nearly took her out. Spots swam before her vision and her hand came to her forehead. She closed her eyes, wondering if she was going to faint.
But Gabriel was standing then, his presence warm and solid beside her. He bent and lifted her, grasping her firmly in his strong arms. And then he ran, carrying her swiftly over the hill toward the wooden building at the top.
She knew what he was going to do. There had been only one figure milling around behind the windows when they had arrived earlier. The salesperson would be alone inside. Gabriel was going to have to trust that the man wouldn’t see him open a portal through the building’s front door.
Juliette felt strange. She raised her hand to her stomach, allowing it to go limp there so that she wouldn’t drop the shard gun she’d stolen from the Adarian. And then she let her head drop against Gabriel’s shoulder. The world was tilting around her. She felt weightless and empty. She’d never felt like this before in her life.
As Gabriel moved them through the swirling, interdimensional doorway, Juliette closed her eyes. Blackness slipped in like an army of shadows that had been waiting to lay siege. She frowned and tried to speak. The tiniest sound escaped her lips.
And she was out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gabriel’s heart was aching. Juliette weighed nothing in his arms. It was like lifting a child. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen—what she had just done to save them. He hadn’t known she’d been capable of such immense power. The lightning bolts were impressive enough. But the stone . . . Callanish, he thought numbly. It would never be the same.
It didn’t matter. Not to him—nothing mattered but Juliette and her painful, ominous lack of substance in his arms.
“Michael!” he bellowed into the portal as it swirled before him and he raced through its kaleidoscope lights. She needed the Warrior Archangel’s healing touch. Gabriel could feel her essence slipping; she’d pushed herself way too far. She’d moved the earth and altered history, and now she was fading.
“Michael!” he cried again, choking on a sob he had no power to contain. He gritted his teeth and rapidly closed the portal behind him, and even as he did, he was besieged by his brother, who had apparently heard his harsh cries.
Michael strode toward him, still dressed in the shoulder holster and guns he wore to work as a cop in New York City. The living room was otherwise empty but for Max, who had risen from his place at a table that bore a chessboard and two mugs of what looked like fresh coffee.
“Give her to me,” the blond archangel commanded, stealing Juliette’s tiny, limp form from Gabriel’s arms. It was everything he could do not to rip her back out of his brother’s grasp and clutch her to his chest. He let her go—but it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“What happened?” Max asked.
Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but he had no air in his lungs. He looked down at Juliette’s still form where Michael had laid her down on the couch, and his breath was lost to him. His chest ached. He forced it open, sucked in air, and said, “The Adarians happened.”
Gabriel watched with wide eyes. He was shaking. He could feel the hard tremble making its way through his body like a horrible disease.
“She’ll be fine,” Michael whispered, obviously concentrating on his healing, but wanting to assure his brother. “She’s just weak. Just like Ellie.”
Suddenly Max’s strong hand was on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”
“They attacked us at Callanish,” Gabriel replied, his gaze glued to Juliette’s beautiful face and her now fluttering eyelids. “Somehow, they found us. They knew we would be there.” He couldn’t comprehend it. He hadn’t felt them arrive. He hadn’t heard them. Where were they getting this new power to find the archesses and head them off without warning?
Max was quiet behind him. Juliette’s pink lips parted and a soft groan escaped them. She exhaled and Michael sat back on his heels, removing his hand. Juliette’s eyes fluttered open. Gabriel took her hand and leaned in. “Och, lass,” he whispered softly, “you truly are an angel.”
She blinked up at him for a moment and then smiled a shy smile.
“How many were there?” Max asked, moving around Gabriel to take a seat on the coffee table beside him.
“Three,” Gabriel replied as Juliette tried to sit up. He pressed his hand to her abdomen and kept her down, shaking his head reprimandingly.
She blushed and shot him a frustrated look, but acquiesced, resting back against the cushions instead. He grabbed another pillow from the side of the couch and slid it under her hair. Her soft brown waves cascaded over it and the edge of the couch, nearly coming to the floor.
“There were three,” he repeated softly, gazing at his archess with the pride he felt. “She moved fifteen tons of rock to save us. She worked a bloody miracle—didn’t you, luv?”
“I destroyed Callanish,” she said softly, her brow furrowing slightly with a frown.
“It’s nothin’ we can’t fix,” he assured her. And it was true. He and his brothers and Max could set anything right—even something as ancient and sacred as Callanish.
“The Adarians have gone too far,” Michael said.
“You’re right,” Max conceded. “But we’ve been here before. Things are coming to a head.”
Juliette looked from Gabriel to Michael, who was rising from the carpet now to lower himself into a love seat a few feet away. “Thank you for healing me,” she said. “I wasn’t feeling so hot.”
Michael nodded and smiled warmly. “I imagine not. And it was my pleasure,” he told her.
“What exactly happened?” Max asked, clearly wanting more detail than Gabriel had thus far provided.
“I’ll tell you,” Gabriel supplied, glancing over at him. “Bu’ first, where are the others?”
“Uriel’s filming,” Max said. “And Eleanore’s with him. Azrael is sleeping.”
Gabriel nodded. The mansion was obviously on a similar schedule to Scotland’s at that moment; it was daylight here. So Azrael would be belowground, in his private chambers. “Get Uriel back here an’ find us some shade so you can wake Az up. I’ve go’ some rather important news to share.”
Thirty minutes later, Uriel and Eleanore had joined them in the mansion’s massive living room. Eleanore had gone directly to the couch to sit beside Juliette and the two had been conversing quietly ever since. Max managed to shift the mansion’s presence so that it resided in darkness, and now a full moon hung low in the sky outside the mansion’s massive windows.
Azrael had joined them as well. His tall, dark form leaned against one of the walls, his golden eyes glowing eerily in the frame of his otherworldly, angelic face. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and his black-booted feet were crossed at the ankles. He gazed steadily at Gabriel, and Gabe could feel an unsettled vibe coming from the former Angel of Death. He was in a hard mood. They’d woken him early and he obviously hadn’t had enough sleep.
Gabriel closed the blinds and turned to face his family. “Max, wha’ progress have you made with the shard gun?” he asked the guardian.
Max shook his head, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on the front of his brown suit. He almost always wore a suit. He always looked like a cross between a librarian and a businessman unless he was in combat mode, and then he wore fatigues and lost the glasses. “None,” he said. “I’m not surprised you want to know about that; you’ve been shot more than the rest of us combined with the damn things.”
“How many times has he been shot?” Juliette asked.
“Thirteen, including the blasts he took while the two of you were at Slains,” replied Azrael in his deep, cool voice.
Gabriel looked from Az to Juliette and found her staring at him with wide eyes.
“And the blasts hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt,” added Uriel. Juliette’s eyes widened farther.
“Shut up,” Gabriel told his brother.
Uriel shot him an unapologetic look. “Being healed of the wounds is almost worse.”
“I have no idea how they operate the weapons,” continued Max, wisely changing the subject. “But pulling the trigger doesn’t work and neither does taking it apart and putting it back together again.”
“You need to be an Adarian to make it work,” Gabriel said, spearing Uriel with one last hard look and then running a hand through his hair. He’d given this a lot of thought since Juliette had tried to use the Adarian’s shard gun against their enemies. “Juliette tried to use one as well an’ failed. None of us have go’ Adarian blood running through our veins. I’m willing to bet that’s the secret.”
The room was silent for a long while as everyone in the room contemplated what Gabriel had just said.
Max addressed Gabriel. “Was this all that you wanted to talk to us about?” he asked, obviously catching on that the Adarian shard guns were only the tip of the iceberg that night.
“No,” Gabriel replied. “No, that’s no’ all.” Juliette’s past lives were swirling through his head like a tornado. He needed to tell them about the archesses and how the circumstances of their existences were inextricably linked to the former duties of their archangels. It was an impending storm of information and it hovered on the horizon, loud and ominous. But this needed to be done.
He glanced once at Azrael and the vampire archangel straightened. He dropped his arms, coming to his full impressive height of six feet and six inches. It was clear from the way his glowing gold eyes were going from orange to red that he’d already entered Gabriel’s mind and read his thoughts. And it was clear that he knew what they meant.
“It’s about the archesses,” Gabriel said, his gaze locked on Azrael’s. “There’s somethin’ you all need to know.”
* * *
Samael nodded at the tall, blond actor as the man stepped up to the doorway of Sam’s office and prepared to knock on the open door. Sam’s nod saved McNabb the trouble.
“Come in, Law.”
“Sir,” Law replied, falling easily once more into his role as one of Samael’s . . . employees—and not just the actor client the rest of the world thought him to be.
“Close the door behind you,” Sam instructed.
Law closed the door and came to stand before Samael’s desk. Sam leaned back in his desk and steepled his fingers before him. “The Adarians are moving quickly.”
“I heard,” Law replied, nodding once in agreement. “Would you like me to head into the field?”
“Yes,” Samael said. He leaned forward in the plush leather chair and stood gracefully, coming to his fu
ll impressive height. Then he turned away from the actor and moved to the vast windows behind him. He stood before them, sliding his hands into the pockets of his charcoal gray suit trousers. It was early evening in Chicago, and the sun had already gone down. Twilight cast a dim glow over the surface of the lake and the metal in the high-rises that made up its skyline.
“The four favored tend to throw a few wrenches into our plans every now and then,” Sam said, his voice light with a touch of humor. “Still, thus far in the grand scheme of things, everything has gone according to design.”
“But?” Law questioned. Samael smiled. McNabb was good at knowing what was coming next.
“However,” Sam said as he turned back to face the blond man, “this last attack by the Adarians on the archess was a touch too close for my tastes. This is a pivotal moment. Everything must go exactly according to preparations.” He moved around his large desk and made his way to the marble fireplace set into one wall. The fire blazed merrily, warm and inviting. Sam braced his right arm against the mantel and leaned in. His wristwatch gleamed in the crackling firelight. “The archess is very precious, Law.” He said this as he felt it—with a deepness he did not fully comprehend. “They all are.”
“I understand,” Law said slowly. “I’ll make certain she has what she needs to protect herself.”
“See that you do,” Sam said, still gazing into the leaping light. He pushed away from the fireplace and turned to face McNabb. “Does Uriel suspect anything of you?” he asked, changing the subject. Lawrence McNabb and the archangel Uriel had been working together for the last year and a half on the Comeuppance series, and so far the former Angel of Vengeance had yet to make any indication that he thought of McNabb as anything but a costar. But it didn’t hurt to double-check.
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