Blake and the other remaining Voratus were slow to notice Gabe, too drunk on the rush of Celeste's anguish to pay attention to the open door. Blake didn't notice the threat until Gabe was almost on top of him. With a shout, Blake bolted to his feet. The other Voratus jumped Gabe, forcing him to turn away from Blake for a moment. When he looked back, Blake had fled out the open kitchen door. Escaped again.
The Voratus clinging to his back almost an afterthought, Gabe pulled out a calix. Still intoxicated by the flood of Celeste's emotions, the demon didn't seem able to focus on the fight. Gabe wrestled it to the floor, power flooding his muscles, and pinned the demon with ease. A knee in its ribs, a hand on its shoulder and Gabe drove the calix to the hilt. Easy target.
Gabe barely had his mind on the kill. All he saw was Celeste, wrapped around the body of her dog, holding Fitz and weeping silently into his wiry, gray fur. Her jeans were soaked in his blood. She was covered in it. Her clothes, skin, and hair soaked in red. She wasn't injured. Gabe could feel it. Just as he felt the agony tearing through her heart. Agony and guilt. He could relate to both. The guilt most of all. He was intimately familiar with guilt.
So wrapped up in duty he hadn't been around enough to realize his own brother had been infected. Running away from Celeste like a scared boy, leaving her undefended. Fitz was dead. Her companion for all these decades of isolation. Dead because Gabe hadn't locked the door. Turning to the practicalities, Gabe crouched beside Celeste.
"Celeste," he said with a gentle touch to her shoulder. No response. He said her name again. Quiet tears. Gabe waited another minute, then sighed. He couldn't tell if she was so lost in grief she was unaware of his presence, or if she refused to speak to him. It didn't matter. Not yet.
Gabe rose. He had a mess to clean up. Celeste would have to wait. Methodically, he carried the dead demons to the small grassy yard beside the tower, piling them in a tight heap. Broken bits of debris from the fight followed. A lamp. What used to be an end table. He found a stack of towels in the closet by the back door. Gray hairs speckled the loosely folded towel on top. Celeste had used these to dry Fitz's fur after a rainy run through the woods. Glad she wasn't paying attention, Gabe used the towels to wipe up the pools of blood, avoiding where Celeste lay, wrapped around Fitz's cold body. The bloody towels were tossed on the growing pile outside. Once the house was cleaned up, he'd toss a crematus disc on the whole pile and make it go away.
Later, he'd come back to care for Fitz and clean up the rest of the blood. First, Celeste needed him. She couldn't stay like she was, coated in her dog's blood, ready to follow him into death. He'd never met a woman so alone and he'd just caused her to lose her best friend. With deliberate care, he locked the doors, and bolted the inner shutters. Resigned, he crouched beside Celeste again. This time, he didn't bother to speak, just slid his hands between her and Fitz and drew her backwards. She moved easily for a few inches. Then her body bucked against him, twisting violently to get away.
"Get off," she screamed. "Get off of me. Get off. I want Fitz. Get off. I want my Fitz."
Slippery with blood, she was impossible to hold. Gabe didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't going to let her go. She fought, her eyes half closed, kicking, punching blindly. Gabe wrapped her in his arms, letting her fight against him, taking the blows she landed in silent acceptance. Gabe held on until she wore herself out. It seemed to take forever.
Finally, her twisting struggles slowed. She stopped hitting, gave up trying to get free. Instead, she dropped her head into his chest, still weeping, breaths jagged and uneven. He stroked her bloody hair from her face, whispering nonsensical, soothing words. When she'd relaxed enough to move, Gabe picked her up like a child and carried her to her room.
By the time he got her undressed, Celeste was on the verge of passing out. She'd be furious when she came back to herself, but for the moment she seemed fine with Gabe taking charge. Good. There would be time to rage at him when she was clean, and he'd removed all evidence of the attack from the tower. He leaned Celeste against a wall, hoping she could keep her balance long enough for him to strip off his clothes and boots. Under the warm spray of the shower, he rinsed her hair clean, working shampoo through the tangled strands. It hadn't dried from their last shower. She'd bound it up, but one side of her head was saturated in blood from lying against Fitz.
When she was clean and mostly dry, Gabe pushed her arms into the sleeves of her robe and brought her to bed. Naked, he curled around her, pulling the covers over them. As soon as she fell asleep, he'd go take care of Fitz and the rest of the mess. Stroking her cool, damp hair, Gabe held her close. The dark pull of her grief seeped through the energy drawing them together. How could the Vorati feed off this stuff? Celeste's pain was caustic, tearing at his insides. Battery acid when she should have been tingling, sparking warmth.
He would have given anything to take it away, to erase the attack. To return her quiet life with her dog and her mountain. Had he brought this to her? She'd been hunting the Vorati alone. Odds were, the demons would have come after her. But it hadn't been a random demon that had attacked her. Not a random knife in Fitz's belly. Blake had gone after Celeste. Blake had killed Fitz. More death to lay on the infected Warder. Gabe burned to kill him. To avenge his dead. Now Celeste would know the burn as well.
With a sinking gut, Gabe realized the futility of it all. The need to serve justice had ruled his mission for so long, he'd never noticed it consuming his life. Is that what Daniel would have wanted? For Gabe to focus entirely on vengeance? To walk away from a woman like Celeste in pursuit of duty? Gabe didn't have to think for more than a second.
No. Daniel would never have wanted this. He would have been grateful to Gabriel for ending his infection, hopeful that Gabe could go on without him. He knew because he'd known Daniel. And he knew because he didn't want this for Celeste. The hate and futile rage. The need for revenge. None of it did anything but drag him further into the same darkness Blake inhabited. Celeste was a being of light. Beautiful, regal, intelligent, funny, warm, passionate. She deserved more from life than her lonely exile. More than grief and rage.
She deserved more than Gabe. More than a soldier who'd spent far too long hunting his own personal demons. In a flash of clarity, Gabe knew he wasn't going to leave her. Somehow, he'd make it work. He couldn't turn his back on the growing trouble with infected Warders. And Blake had to die. He was a threat to Celeste. But Gabe refused to walk away from her. Given his own part in the attack—running off and leaving her alone—Celeste might not want him to stay. He didn't care. They were tied together. Bonded. He didn't understand why, or how it had happened. Just an hour ago, the bond had been a trap. Now, with Celeste withdrawn and mired in grief, it was a lifeline. He would reach her again. She'd let him into her heart. Eventually. And until then, he wasn't going anywhere.
***
Weak daylight filtered through her lashes, leaking into Celeste's barely open eyes. Bruises ached all over, the pain warring with her raw throat. Swollen and sticky eyes didn't want to focus. For a moment, she couldn't remember what had happened. It came back in a rush. Going to bed with Gabe. Waking alone. The attack. Using the phone to kill the demons. Fitz. Fitz was dead. A breath hitched in her chest. Her Fitz was gone. Strong, warm arms tightened around her middle, pulling her into the solid heat behind her.
"Shh," Gabriel hushed, the sibilant sound tickling the inside of her ear. "Shhh."
Celeste did not want to get out of bed. The scene outside the bedroom door was too much to face. The dead demons. And Fitz. Her perfect Fitz. She'd protected him for so long. Healed him. Loved him. He'd given his life to defend her. Impossible to believe he was dead. The hard thump of his tail on the floor, his affectionate hip bumps locked in the past.
Rolling over, she faced Gabe. He'd left her. Slept with her, given her the best sex of her life and walked away. She'd thought he was gone for good.
"Why are you here?" she asked. Her voice sounded flat to her ears.
&
nbsp; "I'm sorry." He raised a hand to brush back her hair. "I know words are nothing. But I'm sorry. I made you a target. I left the door open."
Celeste wanted to jerk away. To shout that yes, he was at fault. It was all his fault that everything had gone so wrong. He'd left the door open. She wanted to beat her hands against his chest, to pour her rising pain on him. To make him take it away.
And that wasn't fair. Yes, he'd left the front door unlocked. But so had she.
Gabe was involved with the Vorati who had attacked. Celeste clearly remembered the leader saying Gabe's name. So maybe they'd come because of Gabe. But they would have come anyway. Eventually. And if it hadn't been for Gabe, she'd be dead along with Fitz. As much as she loved her Fitzwilliam, now that the first wave of grief was passing, Celeste no longer wanted to join Fitz in death.
"I never checked either door," she said. "Or the windows." Breath hitching, Celeste closed her eyes against the leaking tears and pressed her forehead to the pillow. "So stupid," she whispered. "I killed my Fitz."
"No, Celeste. We fucked up. We forgot to lock up the tower before we went to bed. And I left you alone with the door unlocked. The attack wasn't your fault. It could have happened just as easily while you were taking a walk. If they couldn't get in tonight, they would have come back."
"He knew you. The leader of the Vorati who attacked." Celeste raised her head, eyes finally open and clear. "How did he know you?"
"It's a long story," Gabe said.
Celeste waited, gaze implacable. She deserved the truth. "If you aren't going to be honest," she said, "then get out. I've lost enough. I'll handle the rest alone. I don't want you here if you're going to keep lying."
"I'll tell you. Just give me a second."
Celeste watched him assemble his thoughts. Then she listened to Gabe tell of two brothers, as close as twins. One betrayed by his own, infected by a Voratus. Gabe delivering the mercy of death. Living each day with the burden of failure, driven to redeem himself and punish his brother's true killer. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. No wonder he hadn't explained what he was doing there. From the halting way the story came out, Celeste knew Gabe rarely spoke of these events, if ever.
Her resentment melted away. So Gabe had walked out. It wasn't any worse than most men, and women, had done at one time or another. His head was crowded with more pressing problems than a fling with a Shadow. Celeste didn't want to imagine the pain in his heart. He'd been forced to execute his own brother. A brother he'd loved.
She too would be driven to vengeance at any cost. Already she burned to kill Blake for Fitz. And while she loved Fitz, loved him deeply, it wasn't the same as losing a sibling. She'd never had family like that.
Her parents cared for her, had raised her themselves, but they were distant. Like many of the more cerebral Shadows, they were so absorbed in their mental gifts they detached from physical realities. For the past sixty years they'd been on a meditative retreat in a Shadow sanctuary in rural China. A year after she'd been exiled, they'd sent a letter of vague apology and concern. That was the last she'd heard from them. If she'd had a sibling, someone who always loved her, always had her back? She would have gone to the ends of the earth for them. No, she couldn't fault Gabe his priorities.
"I'm sorry," Gabe said again. "I brought this to you. Blake attacked because we were together. I should have known that would happen. I finally had him in reach and I let it distract me from thinking about all the angles."
Celeste didn't respond right away. "They had me pinned in the woods yesterday," she said. "If you hadn't come along, they would have taken me. Even if I'd gotten away, they would have come hunting for me. So if you're to blame, so am I. You were right before. I had no business going after them. I was just so frustrated. I reported them and no one seemed to care. They took that whole family—"
"I know." Gabe stroked her hair from her face. "I think I'm finally getting it. We make bad decisions. Sometimes those decisions have tragic consequences. It sucks. But it's life. We have to pick up and move forward."
"I don't want to." She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of Fitz. "I want Fitz back."
"I know." Gabe continued to stroke her hair, soothing her like a child. "I know you do. We'll go after Blake. We'll make him pay for what he took from us. We won't be safe here unless we root out the nest. But then we're done with vengeance."
Celeste was silent, absorbing the comfort of strong fingers stroking through her long hair. His words filtered through slowly. He'd said, 'We won't be safe.' Not 'you,' 'we.' As if he planned to be here.
"What are you talking about?" she said. "What do you mean, we won't be safe here? You're leaving when this is done."
"I'm not leaving you. I can't turn my back on my duty. There's something going on with these infections, with the Vorati nesting. I can't just ignore it. But I'm not walking away. I'll figure something out."
"The Directorate, if they find out you're here—"
"I'll work it out. I'll think of something, Celeste. It'll be okay." He continued to stroke her hair, soothing, leaving pools of warmth where his fingertips touched her scalp.
"Why?" she asked, annoyed that she sounded like a plaintive child. She didn't understand. A few hours ago he'd left their bed, walked out on her. "Why are you staying? Why did you come back?"
"You know why." He slowed his fingers in her hair. Trailed one fingertip along her cheekbone, down to her lips, tracing the plump flesh, spreading heat. "Don't tell me you don't feel this, feel it every time we touch. You're inside me, under my skin, in my soul."
He curled his big hand around her jaw, palm rubbing her cheek. Sliding his fingers behind her head, he drew her closer. Warm lips pressed a kiss to her forehead. So sweet. She'd never been with Gabe when he was sweet. Passionate, demanding, serious, but not sweet. Disarmed, she melted into his kiss.
"I came back," he said, "because I felt your fear. I was over a mile away, walking, trying to figure out what was happening between us, why I felt so connected to you and how I could feel that way when I had to go after Blake. Then I felt your fear, and I knew something was wrong. I don't know what this is. But I know what it means. You're a part of me. You're mine now. A gift. And I'm not stupid enough to throw away a gift. Not one like you."
He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her flush against him, surrounding her. She planted her hand in his chest, holding him back. He was moving too fast. Celeste couldn't keep up. She'd been resigned to his leaving and now he'd decided he was staying forever? That she was his? What did that mean?
"What if I don't want you to stay?" she asked.
Gabe's jaw clenched, eyes hard. "You do."
"How do you know? Maybe I was just using you for sex," she said, voice tart, eyebrow raised.
"I know you were just using me for sex. Now the joke’s on you. This is more than sex. And you're stuck with me. I'm keeping you."
"You can't just keep me," she sputtered.
"Tell me you want me to go," he said.
"Will you go if I do?"
"No. But if you mean it, look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to go. Tell me you want to be alone again."
"I don't want you to stay just so I won't be lonely," she said, hands planted on his chest.
"You have too much pride for that." Gabe dipped his head to press a soft kiss to her jaw. "You don't want me because you're alone. You want me because I'm a part of you." His stubbled jaw rubbed her temple.
"You were leaving."
"Not really. I was just being a pussy."
The profanity shocked a laugh out of her. Was he staying? She couldn't quite take it in. Celeste wanted him. She might not be ready to admit it to Gabe, but he was right. He had become a part of her just as she'd become a part of him. She wouldn't try to force him to change his life, but if he wanted to stay, she wouldn't send him away.
"Celeste," he said. "Don't ask me to leave you again. I walked away before because I wasn't ready. The consequences were too high. You were
almost taken. We lost Fitz. I'm done with running away. I'm not a coward. We'll figure it out. But I'm not leaving you."
She leaned her head into his neck. He smelled like Gabe and the herbal soap in her shower. Wrapped around each other, it was easy to feel their energy twining through their bodies, blending their power together. It was too fast. Too many changes. But Celeste wasn't a coward either. As long as this connection lasted, she'd hold on to it. In her suddenly upside down life, it was the only thing that felt right.
"Something happened before," she said, her lips grazing his warm skin. "In the fight. I don't understand what's been going on. With our energy. But I think it's changing me."
"What to do you mean? Are you alright?" His hands roamed over her back and torso, seeking signs of an injury he'd missed.
"I didn't get hurt. One of the Vorati had a phone. Normally if I get too close to a phone, it surges and burns out. But it didn't. I touched the electrical energy. Directed it. I used it to kill two of them."
"And you've never done anything like that before?"
"Never. I didn't think it was possible. I've never had any control over electricity at all. Its why I'm living all the way out here. But now it's like my power is being tempered somehow. The only thing that makes sense is that it’s you."
"I felt something different too. When I was fighting the Voratus who'd been holding you. And when I was running back to the tower. I felt stronger, faster. I thought it was just adrenaline. Now I think it might have been you. Sending me power."
"I've never heard of anything like this," she said. "Shadows can't share energy. We sense each other sometimes. Depending on what our skills are and how close we are. I have a few friends whose emotions I can read after we've spent some time together. But nothing like this."
Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella Page 9