Midnight Crusader

by Nancy Gideon

  "This is lovely,” Naomi exclaimed, trying hard to sound normal as she looked out over the dazzle of lights. Under other circumstances, she would have felt charmed.

  "You're lovely,” Gabriel corrected. “And brave and resourceful and compassionate."

  She smiled faintly. “Stop."

  "Naomi, you are all those things. You always have been. And that's why I—” He broke off awkwardly and pretended to develop an intense interest in the traffic passing far below them.

  "Good night,” Roxanne called, interrupting the tense interchange.

  "Sleep well, honey,” Naomi responded with all the warmth of a mother to her child. And those feelings surprised and delighted her.

  Roxanne hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

  "Was there something else, Roxanne?"

  "The two of you need to talk. You've got shared centuries to untangle.” With that curious pronouncement, she returned to the bedroom and shut the door, leaving a little crack so that Mel could find his way out if he needed to.

  "Shared centuries,” Naomi mused, then looked to Gabriel for an answer. For all the answers. “Pick one."

  "I lived in the Thirteenth Century,” he began without preamble. “I was a knight, a man of honor and duty and a determination never to tarnish either of those ideals. I was a man of pride. I wasn't aware of what a sin that could be until it cost me the only woman I ever loved.

  "Her name was Naomi Beorhthilde. Her family lived in a neighboring shire. Her father was killed in the wars, and when a cruel relative tried to take the property by force, her mother sent her to us for assistance then took poison so she couldn't be forced into marriage. Naomi became a ward of my family and everyone loved her. I loved her. There was such kindness and light about her. Her name suited even though many frowned upon the Old Testament reference. Not a popular name choice for the times. It meant bright counselor, and soon everyone went to her with their troubles for her advice and wisdom. Her intelligent reserve and air of mystery mesmerized me from the first. I knew I would wed no other."

  "And did she feel the same?” Naomi asked, wondering why it felt as though he was discussing the two of them rather than a woman who might have been some distant relative.

  "I was called to protect our borders against the man who'd tried to steal your heritage. It was my duty, my pleasure. How could I not go? But Naomi, who had lost all who'd sworn to protect and cherish her, begged me to stay, to honor my vow of love to her."

  "But you went anyway.” Of course, he would. Knowing this Gabriel, she could imagine him no less compelled by honor centuries ago. Centuries ago...

  She could see him perched upon his huge charger, fair hair surrounding his face like a halo, his armor gleaming in the sun, a piece of embroidery work stitched by his lady love tied about the hilt of his sword and the token that would seal their troth on a cord about his neck. She could see him...

  "We took the day, but I fell in battle, gravely wounded. In the chaos and confusion, news of my death was prematurely taken back to the castle where Naomi awaited my return. In her despair at having sent me to my supposed death, she threw herself from the high window of the rooms we would have shared as lord and lady and was broken on the rocks below then swept out to sea. Her ... body was never recovered. Her soul never found rest. And my pride was to blame. I had to be the one to avenge the wrong done to her family, even though it was her wish that I remain by her side. I never had the chance to tell her that none of the fault was hers."

  "But that's what she died believing.” Naomi experienced the other woman's sadness and guilt as if those things weighed upon her own heart.

  "But I couldn't let her soul wander between heaven and earth never knowing that I forgave her, never having the opportunity to beg it from her as well. And when the means to seize that chance arose, I took it, never once considering the consequences of what I would become."

  "You became a vampire. Why?"

  "Because her soul still roamed, and I knew I could find it if I but had the time to search. I knew I would recognize her again, no matter what form she took, no matter what age she lived in. Our spirits would cry out to one another were we to meet again. Or at least, that was what I was led to believe. That was the fiction I followed as centuries passed."

  "And you found her in me."

  His smile was so sorrowful, it broke her heart. “I thought I did. I saw in you the same qualities I so admired in her. I wanted to believe that the sacrifice of my life and that of my best friend had come to this reward. But you weren't the woman I'd loved and lost, and for time, I was angry at you for not being her."

  Naomi fell silent. Now she understood his tension and his purposeful distancing. How devastated he must have been to discover she had failed to live up to the legend of his tragic love. Then she truly heard his words.

  "For a time? But not now?"

  "How could I not love you, Naomi? Not for the woman I'd lost but for the woman you are. But how could I ask you to love what I am? What my pride and false purpose allowed me to become?"

  "Don't ask."

  She rose up to kiss away all the regrets, all the disillusionments, all the heartache they both had suffered. She sighed into his mouth as his hands captured her small waist to pull her nearer still. She went liquid with longing, melting down his sturdy frame until nothing separated them but a barrier of fabric and the distance it took to cross the room. Both were barriers easily breached.

  They fell together on the big bed. By the end of the first bounce, he was inside her, claiming all that she was and bidding farewell to that she would never be. She would never be his fragile noble bride. She would never restore his innocent beliefs or return them to an ancient time. But she could and did renew his faith in goodness and in the strength of that purity. She completed him with her total surrender in a way the Naomi of his dreams could never have achieved. This was no ideal, no paragon, no subject for verse or jousts. This was a woman who could only be claimed by virtue of winning her heart. And by some lucky miracle, he'd managed that feat.

  Now, to be worthy of it.

  * * * *

  They lay entwined the way lovers did, with a complete abandonment of self and absorption of the other. With passion sated and answers given, Naomi found she had more questions.

  "This being that you are now,” she broached carefully. “Are you alive? Does your heart beat?"

  "The life I live is not the same as the one I led or the one you live. I exist in darkness, but when I'm with you, my heart takes wings."

  She couldn't restrain her pleased smile. “The ladies at court must have adored you."

  "But I only saw you.” He caught himself and glanced away, chagrined. “I meant her."

  "It's all right, Gabriel. I'm not envious of the love you had for her as long as I have you now."

  "For as long as you live,” he promised.

  "As I live. But you'll go beyond that, won't you?"

  He put his forefinger to her pursed lips. “Don't speak of that now. There'll be plenty of time for us to come to terms with our ... differences."

  "You take blood to survive."

  "Yes. But only enough to survive and never from the unwilling. That's what makes me different from Zanlos and Cross and others like them. That's why I've devoted my life to seeing that those who are evil don't thrive on the deaths of the unsuspecting. I bring them to justice, the justice of my kind for the crimes against mankind."

  "And that's why you're here. To punish Zanlos. Because he abused the powers of what he is?"

  "No. Because he took you from me. I couldn't forgive him that. I'll never forgive him for that."

  She touched the side of her neck, feeling the slight scars that enslaved her to another man. “But if you take my blood, won't I belong to you and not him?"

  He smiled wistfully. “The claim of the first is always the strongest, and it can only be broken by his death or..."

  "By mine?"

  "No. Not even death can free you."


  "What could, Gabriel? There is a way, isn't there?"

  "Not one I'm willing to discuss.” He looked toward the ceiling, his jaw set in a stubborn denying angle. Naomi took his chin and turned him to face her and her question.

  "What is that way?"

  He was reluctant, but he didn't deny her an answer. “If you were to become like me, like us. Then you would be equally powerful and independent of all other claims."

  "Like you,” she repeated.

  "But I won't allow it, Naomi.” The firmness of his tone spoke of his determination. A man used to giving orders, he didn't expect to be disobeyed. Or questioned. But he softened his tone so she would understand. “You are light next to the darkness within me. I wouldn't condemn you to my existence. I love you too much to see you give part of your soul away."

  But part of her soul was already missing.

  Even as he made sweet love to her a second time, making her moan and sob in the throes of blissful release, a part of her was absent.

  The part of her that was Naomi Beorhthilde.

  The part of her that still sought justice.

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  Chapter Twenty-four

  She slept soundly and without dreams. To awake to the glare of late afternoon and feel refreshed was so unusual she had to lie in bed for long moments just marveling at her splendid mood of contentment.

  Of course, Gabriel was gone. Understanding the reason didn't lessen the desire for him to still be beside her. As her hand stroked over the pillow where he had laid his head, her fingertips encountered something wrapped in small leather pouch. Curiosity overcame her brief melancholy. What had he left for her?

  She tugged open the sides of the pouch and upended it. Out fell a heavy piece of ornate silver in the shape of a T. Lifting it in her palm to study it more closely, she could see that it was a valuable antique. Or maybe it once had been when it was whole. It wasn't meant to be T-shaped. The top had been shorn off. What she held was half of a cross and the end of a phrase. Binds Us.

  Naomi slipped into a baggy tee shirt that Gabriel had left behind. Though it might never hold his heat, his scent was warm upon it. Reaching for her purse on the empty dresser top, she unzipped one of its compartments. On a silken cord was the other half. She read its inscription and smiled when she put the two halves together.

  Gabriel de Magnor had given her this token. Through a fuzzy remembering, she saw Gabriel McGraw handing Naomi Bright another, more modern crucifix. But this one, this one she'd always worn close to her heart until she went to work for Zanlos. He'd said he didn't like jewelry, so she'd put it away in safe keeping. Something about it, though its origin had been unknown, was precious enough for her to risk her life battling with a purse snatcher. And now she knew what it was.

  It was a symbol of Gabriel's love.

  Using a coated hair tie as a temporary fix, she joined the halves together and slipped the cord over her head. She would never take it off again.

  The main room held the delicious smell of fresh brewed coffee. Roxanne sat on the couch stroking Mel as he groomed himself post-breakfast. When the girl saw Naomi, she looked uncertain then said, “Mama always liked a cup of coffee to get herself going. I thought you might, too."

  An unfamiliar sentiment speared through Naomi's heart. “Thank you. That was very kind."

  Roxanne continued to fidget and watch her until Naomi realized it was because the girl didn't know where she fit in now that her mother was gone.

  "Roxanne, do you girls have any other relatives? Anyone who'd take you in?"

  She shook her head, the wary caution increasing in her dark eyes.

  "Well, you'll stay with me then, if that's all right with the three of you."

  "You'd take us in?"

  "Why not? I think we'd complete each others’ lives quite nicely."

  "Yours and Gabriel's?"

  Sly girl. Naomi smiled. “That remains to be seen."

  Roxanne tucked long, dancer's legs underneath her. “You didn't tell him that you are her, the woman he dreams of."

  Naomi blushed. “I'm not, Roxanne. I couldn't be. That Naomi threw herself out a tower window in the thirteenth century."

  Roxanne frowned and cocked her head as if searching for something that was obscured from sight. “Did she?"

  "Yes.” The cold sensation of falling, of the water closing over her head made her gasp slightly and turn away. Roxanne misunderstood her distress.

  "Are you afraid of me? Of the things I see? Do you wish I'd just go away?"

  The girl sounded so scared and insecure that all Naomi's concerns disappeared in a rush of maternal instinct. “Of course not. What gave you such a silly idea?"

  "Mama's second husband. He used to look at me strange, and I could hear them whispering at night. He said the devil was moving in me."

  Naomi came to sit beside her, wrapping her up in a snug embrace. “Nonsense. You're no more damned than—"

  Than Naomi Beorhthilde?

  "It wasn't suicide, was it, Roxanne?"

  The girl glanced up, hopeful yet still uncertain. “I don't think so. I don't see an unhappy soul. I see an angry one."

  Angry.

  "What does she want me to do?"

  "She wants you to set them free with the truth."

  "She and Gabriel?"

  "You and Gabriel."

  And there was only one place she could do that.

  * * * *

  The Amazon felt like a tomb. All the bustle and energy of a grand hotel and casino were gone, abandoned like the workers and hired help over the course of the past twenty-four hours. Marcus filled him in during a brief phone conference. Cross was gone. With the evidence Rita had supplied, he could never surface in Las Vegas again. Only his criminal activities were known to the police. The contracted hits. The murder of Kitty Parsons and Charmaine Johnson, both of whose remains had been found when a hole had been knocked through the temple by demolition experts. A trace was being done on the monies brought in illegally in the form of ancient Peruvian gold. All accounts had been seized, and the opening of the Amazon was in limbo.

  Gabriel rode up in the elevator. The top floor was dark, and Zanlos’ office door stood open, illuminated faintly by the Strip's lights below.

  "You came. I wasn't sure you would."

  Zanlos stood unconcerned with his back to his guest while he stared out into the night.

  "Why did you ask me here? I'd think you'd be running for your life."

  "Oh, I am, dear boy, running that is. I have little faith in human nature and even less in the integrity of our kind. I put away a small fund for a rainy day, and I plan to live quite comfortably and quietly on some tropical island. That is, if your people will let me go."

  "I see. You did me a favor by releasing Naomi. And now, I'm supposed to turn my back and let you slip away."

  Zanlos revolved to face him. “No, no quite. What I did for Naomi has nothing to do with anything but Naomi. She is a good, decent girl, and she deserves better than what Cross had planned for her."

  "What is she to Cross?"

  "I guess to understand that, you'd have to know Cross's secret."

  "And why would you tell me that?"

  "Because if something isn't done about Cross, I'll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my days ... or rather, nights. You will do something about him, won't you?"

  "Count on it."

  * * * *

  Pennants waved against an inky sky. In the darkness, the towers of Excalibur glowed. A fairy tale kingdom.

  As Naomi crossed the drawbridge, she didn't try to block out the sensations rushing over her. Instead, she allowed them in so she might better understand the woman whose soul called to her from a watery grave.

  The answer was here. It had always been here. She just had to recognize it.

  After crossing through the casino, she took the elevator down. The music bubbled up to meet her. She knew the tune. It had been playing the first ti
me ... the first time she had danced with Gabriel. A smile curved her lips as she listened and began to remember.

  De Magnor. The fighter. Yes, a warrior, a hunter, a conqueror. With the tousled blond mane inherited somewhere down his lineage from ravagers from the North, the fierce dark stare of his mother's prideful Anglo-Saxon stock and the unaffected arrogance from the royal houses of France, he was the best with a sword, the most fearless on horse, and more at home in a sea of mud and blood than in the velvets and hose demanded at court. So handsome yet unaware of his charm, so shy with the ladies who flocked for his favor. Then their gazes had met as this tune played, and all the confusion of the world around them fell away.

  Because of the violence of her past, she'd been drawn to his strength and enchanted by his awkward innocence. From him, she had no flowery verses meant to lure her into dropping her reserve and her resolve. He spoke passionately ... about battle, about honor, about the home he would hold and protect and the woman he would cherish. And his gaze slid to her when he said that last, and she knew she was destined to be that woman. And all the stars were right in heaven again. She'd found a man who would value her for what she could offer, not from a pedestal or for political purpose. She would keep his house in order while he was at war, tending his people like they were her family, and when he returned, when he returned, she would greet him as lover and partner not merely as wife.

  That was how it was supposed to have been.

  What had happened? What had knocked that treasured destiny askew and sent her to the grave and him into an eternal hell?

  What ... or who?

  The first show wouldn't start for an hour. Several of Excalibur's knights took advantage of the empty arena to practice sword play. One, the Green Knight, guided his big horse through a series of figure eights. She came down the steps of the vacant gallery to pause at the rail. Her gaze followed the mounted knight as a sense of déjà vu crept up on a cold mist of apprehension. The same sense of the familiar clung to him, just as it did to Gabriel.