Amelia straightened, hesitant. “At times it felt like love,” she said softly.
Gabriel closed his eyes. “Do you still love him?” He knew what awaited him up the ladder. There would be a troop of men with swords outside the house, patiently waiting for him to come out. There was nowhere for him to go, except toward them. And he knew where they’d be taking him. Honoria had a full slate planned for him. The games would be epic to celebrate his return and the sands would be thick with blood by sunset.
He had the wherewithal to come out on top, Amelia had seen to that. Gabriel was the ultimate predator now, sure to champion over man and beast alike. He had all he needed.
Everything, but will.
What the hell did he have to fight for? He’d wanted revenge for so long he’d never planned beyond each little step to getting it. He’d gone along with the program, telling himself one day he’d take out Honoria and do his friends proud. Rome had taken everyone from him. It had taken the lives of the few people he’d ever loved.
And for that … he’d joined it.
It hurt like hell to admit it but there it was. All these years he’d been here, reaping a bloody path in the arena and he hadn’t gotten one step closer to what he’d ultimately wanted. Honoria had always been there. Right in front of him. Countless times so close he could have poisoned her. Strangled her. Reached out and snapped her neck or stabbed her through her black heart.
But he hadn’t done it.
In the end, he’d done nothing but betrayed the people he’d sworn to avenge. He’d become the very image of everything he despised. He’d held strong so long, focused on surviving, he’d never realized with each win, with every kill, he was losing more of himself.
What was he fighting for; living for? Revenge? He wanted to scoff at himself. Justice? That was a pipe dream. Freedom? Where would he go; what would he do with it? Years ago Gabriel could have made something of himself. He’d chosen to become this. He had nothing and no one left outside of Rome. And the one good thing he’d had the amazing fortune to find, the one thing that might have redeemed him, he’d dragged back into this hell with him.
“Do you?” he repeated, waiting for the answer; dreading it.
It was a yes or no question but instead of answering she let go of his hand, her gaze dropped to the ground and she said, “There’s so much you don’t know. So much that’s happened, more than anyone should have to go through.”
“How touching,” he said, his voice dripping with acid.
Her chin lifted and she met his gaze, her spine straight. Signature confident, unflappable, untouchable Dr. Chase. Except her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes glittered wetly behind her glasses. “He lived,” she forced out through gritted teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. She’d said it earlier and it made as little sense now as it had then. “After years of hurting people. All those lives—they’re all on me, I know that. I have so much blood on my hands…” She shook her head, taking control of herself, cleanly shutting out the horror and pain that had shadowed her sapphire blues for a second. “But he lived.”
And Gabriel understood.
This had nothing to do with tender feelings, puppy love, or every female’s infernal obsession with the wrong kind of guy. Amelia didn’t love Tristan Hunt. He was for her what she was for Gabriel. Salvation. Tristan had survived. If that didn’t justify all the people who’d come before him, it at least lightened the stain of them. He’d lived, and Amelia got out. She got free. If anyone should understand it was Gabriel.
I have so much blood on my hands. Gabriel had seen the evidence of it in the file of pictures she’d shown him. But she’d always been so aloof about it he’d never realized how big of a burden it was for her to bear. Idiot. Of course it had to weigh on her. Not only that, now she had three huge responsibilities walking around.
Gabriel cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I should learn to keep my mouth shut.”
Amelia’s lips twitched in a wry smile. “I don’t know. That sudden outburst of irrational jealousy was kind of cute.”
The lights overhead switched off, plunging them into total darkness. That wasn’t a problem for Gabriel, he could still see. But Amelia blinked, squinted, and blinked again trying to make out anything at all. She reached out cautiously. “Hey, are you still there?”
And he was secretly thrilled there was something she needed him for. “Always,” he said, taking her hand again and drawing her closer so she could feel him with her. It was as close to a promise as he dared to get. “Come on, the ladder isn’t far.” It was, in fact only ten yards or so away. With Amelia literally dragging her feet it took them a good five minutes to reach it. Gabriel didn’t mind in the least. Every moment he got to spend with Amelia was a blessing he wasn’t about to give up so easily.
He cast a look behind them, able to see a fair distance down the pitch black tunnel. Honoria didn’t like secrets, unless she was the one keeping them. She’d destroy this place the first chance she got. Good. It was time to bury the past.
“Up you go,” he said, maneuvering Amelia to the ladder. The first step opened the hatch and locked down the house above. There was enough light up there, filtering in through the shutters, that he knew it was day. Not enough to illuminate anything but the top two rungs of the ladder.
Once they were both clear of the tunnel there was nothing more to do except face the men waiting outside. And they were there; Gabriel could scent at least two dozen and the tang of steel.
He was beginning to learn that distinctive smell. The scent of clean, sharpened metal, stained countless times with blood, and sweat, and dirt, the stench of fear and rage seeping into leather-bound handles like cheap perfume. It overwhelmed his nose, stamping out Amelia as if she wasn’t there.
Gabriel met eyes with her. She was her professional, strong and unflappable self again, ready to stand her ground and fight. He loved that about her. “So what happens now?” she asked.
“Now we face the firing squad,” he told her. Part of him roused for a good fight and he couldn’t say for sure it was the animal part. This was it. Whatever happened today would put everything at an end, at least as far as he was concerned. He was eager to be done with it. Gabriel’s fangs itched in his gums and it made him grin. “A kiss for good luck?”
Chapter 26
The first time Amelia had met Tristan Hunt, he’d walked into her lab with two guards behind him. His wrists had been bound, his ankles shackled, he’d been harsh faced and glaring as the guards escorting him snickered and taunted him.
Two armed guards, trained to handle a prison riot.
Tristan had broken one’s nose beyond repair and twisted the other’s arm out of its shoulder socket. When they’d been huddled on the floor, weeping, Tristan had taken one’s keys, removed his restraints and calmly taken a seat in the exam chair, placing his arms into the manacles which promptly locked him in. “Name’s Tristan Hunt,” he’d said. “Nice to meet you.”
In all the years she’d known him, Amelia had never seen Tristan intentionally harm someone who hadn’t had it coming. There’d been times in New Alaska when she’d locked the doors of her lab to keep the guards out. She’d kept a tranq gun on hand every time an inmate had been brought in for treatment or examination.
She’d never been afraid of Tristan.
How easy it would have been to love him. Six years ago Amelia had dreamed of the man showing the smallest hint of interest in her. She’d treated him, examined him, spoke to him, always keeping an impassive mask in place but inside she’d been a mess, torn between having to do her job and wanting to protect him; wanting a hell of a lot more than she knew she’d ever get.
And then Dara had shown up. Quiet, unassuming, deceptively boring Dara. To say it hadn’t affected her to see a relationship develop between her and Tristan would have been a lie. But observing them, Amelia had come to realize what she’d felt for Tristan was nothing more than infatuation, a desperate need
for normalcy in a world that was anything but.
What she felt now more than anything was gratitude. Tristan’s survival had been the light at the end of her tunnel. Because of him she was alive, free to do whatever she wanted with her life. She could love him just for that.
In the tunnel she’d been caught off guard by Gabriel’s question, unable to find the right words to make him understand. Amelia could explain the inner structure of DNA, in detail, to a ten year old but she couldn’t tell the man holding her hand like it was precious how much he’d come to mean to her.
She didn’t want to distract him and put him in more danger. Emotions split focus between needs and wants. Regardless of what Gabriel thought he wanted, right now he needed to stay alive so they could get out of here.
And what then?
She didn’t know.
When Gabriel closed the trap door, the house unlocked and the shutters opened automatically. He led the way to the door and Amelia didn’t need to be told anymore to step exactly where he stepped. In the light of day she could see the glint of metal in the small cracks and holes in the wall. She could tell where the floor was uneven; detected the edge of some sort of pressure trigger with her toe.
The moment she stepped foot outside, it was déjà vu all over again. Only this time there were no adoring crowds lining the streets, no petals raining down on them, and no carpet held in place by slaves. There were only the soldiers, hard-mouthed men in armor, with helmets obscuring their features. They stood motionless like statues but Amelia wasn’t fooled. Especially with Soren at the front, mockery oozing from his cold eye.
“Did you really think we wouldn’t find you?”
Next to her Gabriel held steady. “Did you really think I’d care if you did? Have to say I’m disappointed. I thought you’d get here a lot faster. What’s the matter, Soren, trouble getting up in the morning?”
Soren’s eye twitched, the only indication he got it.
Gabriel leaned toward Amelia and stage whispered, “I certainly don’t have that issue.”
Amelia took her cue from him. She moseyed closer to Gabriel and caressed his arm. “You most certainly don’t,” she purred. To Soren she said, “He’s quite the morning person.”
Soren’s jaw tightened and for a second she had the satisfaction of having scored at least some small victory. There was enough animosity between Soren and Gabriel she suspected there was something very personal behind it. For now that wasn’t important. While Gabriel drew himself up and smirked, Soren turned red and she’d bet his hand was itching to reach for his sword.
But then his eyes narrowed, and he smirked too. “I can see that,” he said, a little too pleased with himself for Amelia’s comfort. Did she have something on her dress? “Looks like you got dressed in a hurry, Doctor. Are you sure you didn’t forget something?”
Amelia frowned. Forget something? Was her sheet on backwards? Was it tucked the wrong way; was something showing that shouldn’t be? She patted herself down. It wasn’t as if she’d know if she’d tied the ropes wrong.
“He means the necklace,” Gabriel said.
Amelia’s hands curled in the sheet. That damn necklace! Oh, bad bad! She couldn’t remember having taken it off. It must have stayed behind in the cave. God, how could she have forgotten?
Soren’s smirk stretched into a predatory grin. With the exception of last night’s party, this was the most emotion he’d shown so far.
She was in so much trouble.
“I did warn you about him, didn’t I?” Soren crowed. “Sooner or later he was bound to betray you.”
Amelia felt her face turn cold and pale.
Gabriel squeezed her hand a little, the smallest thing, but she felt it, and it reassured her. Gabriel had never given her reason to doubt him. With every word and action he showed her he was there for her to lean on. He wouldn’t betray her.
He wouldn’t betray me.
The knowledge was there, as sure and real as the sun above her head and the sand beneath her feet. Once she believed it, Amelia knew nothing Soren said would make her doubt Gabriel again.
Gabriel sighed dramatically and dropped his chin almost to his chest, slowly shaking his head. “It’s almost not worth the effort to make you look like a dick when you keep doing such a good job of it all by yourself.” And with that he produced the shining pendant and held it up for all to see. Then he moved behind her and fastened it around her neck. He took his time about it, too, probably to get on Soren’s nerves. From the looks of the man, it was working.
“Remember what I told you,” he murmured at her ear. “Let no one take this. Someone even looks at it too long you run, you hear?”
“Nothing wrong with my ears.”
“You think this changes anything?” Soren snapped. “She wasn’t wearing it when she came out. I have a full battalion as witnesses.”
Before Gabriel could jump to her defense Amelia drew herself up. “Don’t you threaten me,” she said, stepping forward. He was starting to piss her off and she was done taking it lying down. “You may be a trained soldier but sooner or later you will need to sleep. And I’m a doctor. I know how to make it hurt.”
Amelia expected them to scoff, laugh at her, underestimate her, and maybe even ignore her. She definitely did not expect Soren’s grin to fade at the edges and a few of the men behind him to shift an infinitesimal amount.
What was this? Fear? Was it possible they were actually afraid of her? They definitely looked uneasy. “Ah,” she breathed, understanding dawning with a delightful tickle in her belly. “I see my reputation precedes me.” For once she was glad of it.
Gabriel grasped her arm lightly and pulled her back. “Don’t push it,” he told her.
“But I want to,” she replied, feeling cocky enough to take on the world. Because she was as dangerous as any of these men. The only difference was she didn’t need an arsenal strapped to her person to show it off.
“Pick your fights,” Gabriel said.
When Soren drew his sword, she was forced to admit his strategy made sense. Soren pointed the blade at Gabriel and made a sweeping motion to the right. A dozen men came forward to separate them. They didn’t bother restraining Gabriel but each and every one of them had his weapon drawn and his eyes sharp for any tricks. “Take him to his cell,” Soren said. “I’ll escort the good doctor to Caesar.”
“Shot in the dark here, I’m guessing we won’t be taking the scenic route.”
Gabriel glared at her.
Soren’s eye twitched. He jerked his chin at one of the remaining soldiers and the man pulled out a set of leather straps. Amelia backed almost all the way into the house as he came for her. They whipped people here. Those straps would probably take skin.
Gabriel lunged for the soldier but his guards held him back.
Amelia yelped when the soldier reached for her, flinching in anticipation of the first lash. It never came. The soldier took her wrists and bound them with the leather straps tight enough that she couldn’t twist them. He tied a long lead to them and handed the other end to Soren.
“Scenic route it is,” Soren said. “Move out!” He kicked his horse and the monster reared with a loud whinny and took off at a trot. Amelia was jerked off balance and barely managed to catch herself before she fell. She had no choice but to run after Soren or be dragged across the sand behind him.
* * * *
Three against one usually weren’t fair odds for the other three. Today the son of a bitch Soren had Gabriel tied up and hung by his wrists from the rafters. His feet touched the ground just barely so he could support himself and stay put. He couldn’t get enough leverage to fight back properly and those three were giving him all they had.
They didn’t hit his face; Soren wanted his eyesight and mental faculties unaffected for the games to come. In a strangely chatty moment, the general had told him, “You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough.” Which Gabriel supposed meant that today was about to be his last.
&nbs
p; He’d broken Soren’s nose with his forehead in reply.
The bastard had dragged Amelia behind him all the way to Honoria’s palace. Just for that he would be dying bloody before Gabriel went down.
Easier said than done when his shoulder joints strained and his wrists throbbed with almost his full weight hanging on them. His body was one huge bruise and he was pretty sure he’d be pissing blood soon. The three behemoths Soren had summoned were gladiators in training. Little more than muscle, they were still learning how to strategize and keep a fight going to entertain the masses.
But goddamn, they had fists like anvils.
One of them, Gabriel lost track of which, punched his side and he felt something rupture. Almost immediately, he felt it start to knit together again. “Didn’t quite catch that,” he said. It hurt like a son of a bitch but he was still standing. If he somehow got out of this, he’d have to thank Amelia. Maybe a candle lit dinner or something shiny. Women liked shiny, didn’t they?
The one with the braids drove his knee into Gabriel’s midsection. He felt it all the way to his spine and for a few minutes all his insides locked up and he couldn’t breathe. He was keeping his human shape solid with thoughts of more pleasant things. His pain threshold was usually pretty high but this was too much to ignore.
“That was almost”—he coughed—“a good kick. Lean into it a little next time.”
“Why won’t you stay down!” the third yelled and swung the flat of a wooden training sword at Gabriel’s back. For a second he lost feeling below his waist but it returned quickly, leaving his lower body tingling from waist to toe.
That blow would have broken his back or even severed his spine if not for Amelia’s treatments. If he could, Gabriel would have laughed but his muscles were locking up and cramping in quick spasms, as if they couldn’t decide whether to hold shape or shift. He was balancing on the balls of his feet and that felt more natural than letting his heels touch the sand. That couldn’t be good. Yet the more of the animal he channeled, the faster he healed. His pains were little more than a dull ache. By all rights, he should be minced meat on the inside now and he was still standing.
Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Page 24