by Amy Miles
She can feel the urgency in his fingers as they knead at her lower back, begging to sneak beneath the lace sewn onto her leather corset. She laughs at the pout that tugs at his lips when she places a hand on his chest to stop him from stealing a kiss. “I’m trying to be serious right now.”
“Me too.” When she shoots him a stern look, he laughs and leans back but doesn’t move his hands away. “Fine. I’ll behave. For now…”
Roseline gently cups his face in her hands and leans close to lightly brush her lips against his. “It’s not that I’m not interested.”
“But…”
“But right now you need to be focused. You’ve never been in a battle like this before.” Her grip on his cheeks tightens. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t. I’ve trained.”
A cascade of loose bronze curls falls over her bare shoulders as she shakes her head. “This is different. You’ve never taken a life before.”
“I almost did” she places her finger on his lips to still his indignant protest.
“Fighting to retrieve that fire sword isn’t the same thing as looking in someone’s eyes as you bury your dagger in their heart. You’ve never had to hear the final beats of life or watch the light fade from their eyes.” She leans back, letting her hands fall to his chest, directly over his heart. “You feel their death, Gabriel. Enemy or not, your first death will forever haunt you.”
“Did yours?”
She nods, sighing heavily. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He reaches out and pulls back the curtain of hair that has fallen over her left eye. “Will you tell me someday?”
“Someday,” she whispers, knowing that she will avoid that conversation for as long as she can. The memory of her first death is tied intricately with her honeymoon with Vladimir and that is a memory she would rather never share with Gabriel.
He leans in close, so close she feels dizzy with the heady aroma of his scent. No matter how many times she is with him, it never ceases to overwhelm her. “Promise me something.”
The sharp edge of his words puts her on alert. What could he possibly want? His eyes search her face as he places his hand over hers, holding them tightly to his chest. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow.”
Roseline laughs. “And here I thought you were gonna try to be all macho and tell me to stay behind.”
“Like that would ever happen!” He grins, leaning forward to plant a kiss fully on her lips.
She melts into his embrace as his arms wind around her back, pulling her close. She considers pulling away to finish their conversation, but as his mouth parts and his tongue darts across her lower lip, she can’t remember why they haven’t just been doing this the entire time.
***
Fane glares up at William from across the room, his annoyance mounting. He was fine with the first few wooden stake wisecracks, but now the boy is taking it too far. William may diffuse his fear with humor, but Fane has his limits too. He rises from his seat and weaves through the swarm of hunters that fills the conference room. They arrived last night under the cloak of dark and there is little room to maneuver now.
Immortals from all areas of the globe have been filtering in throughout the day. They now stand three hundred strong with nearly two hundred hunters alongside. Fane has no idea what sort of an army Lucien will bring with him, but after Roseline’s call, he has no doubt Lucien will pull every servant, gutter rat and immortal into this fight.
On the eve of battle, everyone tries to enjoy one last night with their friends and brothers.
Enoch and Theus arm wrestle at a table to Fane’s right. A cheering group of hunters hold up wads of cash into the air as bets are made. Ambrose and Daelyn whisper in the corner, eyeing a young hunter, whose baby blue eyes and blond curls caught their attention when he first arrived. Julian rolls his eyes and turns away, filing his nails into perfect half circles.
Fane places his hand on Grigori’s shoulder as he passes, pleased to have the man fighting on their side. His new sense of appreciation for the man’s skill on the battlefield and as a leader has come as a surprise to Fane. Who would have thought that he could begin to form a friendship with his enemy?
But then again, maybe the hunters aren’t his enemy any more. The lines are shifting and new bonds are forming. Perhaps peace can be an option.
“I was watching you last night,” he says to Grigori as he passes. “Remind me to stay out of range of your broad sword.”
Grigori grunts with pleasure and Fane returns his focus on William. The boy stands near the wall, a heavy sword held aloft over his head.
“By the power of Gray Skull.” He raises the sword higher. It wavers in the air, threatening to fall as he sucks in a great breath to prepare for a loud bellow. “I have the power!”
Sadie giggles as she rocks back into Nicolae, who sits just behind her. Gabriel chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. His blond hair falls over his eyes. Fane looks to Roseline, who shrugs back, obviously as confused as she is. Claudia is all smiles beside Roseline, but he can tell she’s just as lost as they are.
“Seriously? Prince Adam of Eternia? Cringer the mighty battle cat? Skeletor?” William gapes in shock. “Are you telling me you don’t know who He-Man is?”
He drops the sword to his side, narrowly avoiding cleaving his leg in two as it clatters to the ground. Once his hands are free, he clutches his chest and staggers back in shock. “I’m appalled at how uneducated you are in 80’s pop culture.”
Roseline shrugs. “We never really watched TV.”
“Return of the Jedi? Mad Max? Aliens? Top Gun? Robo Cop? Tron? First Blood?” With each movie title William announces, his voice rises higher and higher. His face begins to turn red as he rushes through each name. “Breakfast Club? Terminator? Rocky? Indiana Jones? Die Hard? These are all classics!”
He stares at the blank faces surrounding him and shakes his head. “I’m so disappointed in all of you. These movies helped shape my childhood.”
Without Fane having to say anything to him, William turns and walks away, dejected. Sadie rises to follow, but Claudia waves her off. Her hair whips behind her as she rushes to grab the door and follow him out into the hallway.
“What’s wrong with him?” Gabriel asks. “I thought he was just joking.”
Sadie shakes her head as she draws her legs up into her chest. “You know how uncomfortable he is being the only ‘normal’ one here.”
“Yeah, but those are just movies,” Gabriel protests.
Sadie sighs and leans back in Nicolae. “Not to him. To William, they represent everything you and I aren’t anymore, Gabriel…human.”
The silence is broken as the hunters return to their discussions. Most talk about what weapons they will select for the battle. Others tell wild stories about their last night in Amsterdam or exaggerate details of their time spent hunting wild game in the jungles of the Amazon.
Fane sinks down into a chair behind Roseline and her friends. He tries not to let Gabriel’s arm slung over her shoulders bother him, but it does. He fears that it always will.
“He can’t go with us,” he says softly.
The group turns and stares at him. Roseline’s gaze narrows, but it is Sadie who speaks first, casting a worried glance at Nicolae. “Who can’t?”
“William. He’s a liability.”
Roseline stiffens at Sadie’s cry of outrage. “Just because he’s not an immortal or some uber hunter with spy gear doesn’t mean he can’t be useful.”
“You know that’s not what I’m” Fane begins but Roseline cuts him off.
“A battle is no place for your brother, Sadie. You know that.” She reaches out and places a hand on her friend’s arm. “He will be safe here.”
Sadie’s brow furrows with indecision. Nicolae leans forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. “They’re right. You’d never forgive yourself if he got hurt.”
“Or worse,” Fane adds.
S
he glares up at him but he doesn’t flinch. She needs to face the truth, even if it hurts. “He’ll be alone here. You know he’ll be mad about that.”
Her protests are pathetically weak, and she knows it. “Couldn’t Claudia stay behind with him?” Gabriel suggests, offering Sadie a sympathetic smile.
“No,” Fane shakes his head. “She’s one of our best fighters. We’re going to need every sword we can find.”
Roseline sighs, scrunching her nose as she thinks it over. “I have to agree with Fane. We need her. Sorry, Sadie.”
Fane watches as Sadie curls her legs inward and presses her face to her knees. He feels some remorse for upsetting her, but it had to be done. He turns and walks away from the group, feeling like more of an outsider than ever before.
***
Roseline raps her knuckles on the doorframe of Gabriel’s room. She steps back and waits, tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt. When the door opens, Elias’s tall frame fills the entire doorway. “Gabriel isn’t here right now,” he informs her in his deep voice.
“I know. I actually came to speak with you, if that’s ok.”
“Of course.” He steps back to allow her to enter. As she passes by, she can’t help but brush up against his wings. The feathers are softer than they appear and warm to the touch. She moves quickly toward the opposite wall to allow him to close the door behind her.
When he does, he turns and crosses his arms over his chest. She finds it rather disconcerting that he’s never wears a shirt. His muscles remind her of a bull, strong and well developed.
She clears her throat and forces her hands down by her side. “I came to speak to you about Gabriel.”
“No,” he shakes his head as he lowers himself onto the bottom bunk. Even while leaning forward, the tops of his shoulders are wedged by the top bunk. “You came to speak about his fate.”
She nods and slowly sinks down onto the only chair in the room. Elias stares at her with wide, seeing eyes. “You fear for his safety tomorrow, but it is not for you to decide his fate.”
“But it’s ok for you to mess around with it?” She shoots back. She instantly bites her lips, scolding herself for her sudden outburst of anger. She knew this conversation would be an emotional one, but she needs to keep her anger in check.
“I understand why you would see it that way, but I am truly nothing more than a guide. I do not know his fate any more than you do. Gabriel must decide that on his own.”
“And Lucien? How does he play into all of this?”
Elias shifts, lowering his elbows onto his knees. “Lucien was a surprise to me. I’ll admit that. All of my sources led me to believe that Vladimir was the one we would be fighting, but you took care of that for us.” His chuckle is low and rumbling, like thunder rolling across a humid summer sky. “That was quite an impressive show, young one.”
“When we got word that Malachi had taken you, I knew something was wrong, so I got Gabriel to safety then went looking for myself. I had my suspicions that it had something to do with family blood. Only that can heal all wounds. Unfortunately, I was right. Gabriel unknowingly saved his own father that night in Sorin’s dungeon.”
“And you knew Lucien took me and you still let me stay there?” The pitch of her voice rises as the panic of her imprisonment washes over her again. The fear of her transformation mingles with the image of Enael’s death.
“I am very sorry about what happened to you, Roseline, but it was not my place to interfere.”
“Interfere?” She leaps to her feet, seething. “Do you have any idea what he did to me?”
“Yes.” He nods solemnly. “In fact, I know the details quite well.”
She hesitates, confused by his words. “How?”
“Because Malachi was reporting to me on your progress.”
That was the last thing she expected him to say. Goosebumps crawl along her skin. “He…he was?”
“Think what you like about him, but his actions in the end proved that he was trying to pay back for all of the wrongs he committed.”
Roseline rubs her hands along her arms, feeling chilled. “And did he?”
Elias slowly shakes his head. “That was not the way to do it, but at least he tried. He saved your life and because of that, he also saved Gabriel’s. I am grateful to him for his sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” The word feels wrong rolling around on her tongue. “He didn’t die a noble death.”
“On the contrary, Roseline. He died saving you, the only girl who ever showed him that there was an ounce of good in him. Do you know of anything more noble?”
She sucks in a breath, fighting for a calm that she doesn’t feel. Elias smiles sympathetically. “Without his blood, you would be lost by now. I know you didn’t mean to kill him, but the fact is, if you had not, this war would have been over long before it even began.”
Her legs begin to shake as she sinks back onto the chair. Clasping her hands between her thighs, she rocks slightly, overcome with conflicting emotions. “And Gabriel? Will he have to pay for his sacrifice too?”
When she looks up at the hulking angel, she notices the hint of a tear in his eye before he turns away. “I don’t know. I pray not, but his fate is out of my hands.”
Twenty-Six
A snowflake falls from the heavens, landing gently atop Roseline’s arm. She looks down, confused by the odd texture. It isn’t cold or wet but it is soft and warm, caressing her arm just before it catches on a gust of wind and sails away.
She looks up at the overcast sky. More white flakes have begun to fall. A few here and there. Glancing around her, she realizes that she’s not the only one who has noticed them.
Fane lifts his hand to catch one. He rubs his finger across the rise of the object, his eyes widening in wonder. “It’s a feather.”
“But that’s impossible. There aren’t enough birds in the area.” Roseline blinks, staring in wonder at the silent fall of thousands of feathers. Most are white, while others are brilliant gold, silver and red.
She turns at the hitch in Gabriel’s breathing. A wide smile brightens his pale face as he stares back at her. “Angels.”
Looking to the heavens, she can’t see anything above but the low hanging clouds. Surely, if there were angels above, she should be able to see them just as easily as she can see Elias.
The tall, golden winged angel smiles down from above. He plucks a feather from the sky and holds it close to his own wing. Although crimson in color, it is an identical match. “They have come.”
A murmur quickly spreads through the ranks. Immortal and hunter alike search the skies but to no avail. “Why don’t they land?” she asks.
Elias releases the feather, watching as it slowly drifts to the white ground. “They will fight from above.”
Staring out across the blustery plain, she knows Lucien is out there somewhere. She can hear the distant clacking of Eltat claws against the ice and the hiss of their flickering tongues, but they are not alone. The whisper of a thousand feet and the clattering of sheathed swords drifts on the wind.
Never before has there been a battle of this magnitude among her kind. She has seen men rise up against each other and fall to their graves but never her brethren. Not like this.
She tightens her grip against her blades, drawing reassurance from their even weight. The battle axes strapped to her back sit comfortably along her spine. Metal tipped darts line her belt, waiting to be plunged deep into Lucien’s heart. He will pay for his treachery. She will make sure of it.
Behind her, Nicolae shifts. She glances over her shoulder to see immortal and hunter standing side by side, ready to fight together, in one accord. She never would have dared to dream it, but Nicolae did. Perhaps he is far wiser than she gave him credit for.
She dips her head in acknowledgement of Grigori’s authority. His nose still carries the wounds from their previous encounter, before her truce with Nicolae, but it is not anger that stares back at her now, but respect.
&
nbsp; Perhaps there really can be peace.
A hand slips into hers. She looks up and smiles back at Gabriel as he squeezes her hand. “Are you ready for this?”
“I was born ready.”
“So was I.” He doesn’t release her hand as they turn together to face the coming hoard.
***
They appear from the north, a mass of snarling beasts held back only by their master’s command. Roseline scans the crowd, meeting eye to eye with many of her brethren, men and women she knew and loathed for their love of depravity.
She spies out Mastus the Greek first. The violent winds tear at his ridiculous white toga. Beside him is Alamesia. The red-haired gypsy sways her colorful skirts back and forth. Roseline can hear the tinkling of the bells at her ankles.
Leif, a blue-eyed Scandinavian stands just beyond them, clutching a silver hammer as if he were Thor himself. Two rows back she spies out the broad, almond-skinned Keli, whose victims are typically passed off as shark attacks along the warm coasts of Hawaii.
Milap and Hakan, twins from the Cherokee nation stand side by side with a black braid draped over each of their right shoulders. Kuma and Aiko look completely out of place in their full-length crimson kimono robes. A samurai katana hangs from each of their waists, hidden just under the sashes that hold their robes closed.
Mateo is further back in the ranks. His insatiable appetite for blood created the myth of the Chupacabra in the Americas. With the hulking frame of a small bear and long spikes imbedded in his back, he didn’t have any trouble convincing the locals that he was a beast. He began draining farm animals first, but quickly moved on to wilder game like coyotes and mountain lions.
Roseline shudders and looks away. This fight will be bloody. Too many lives will be lost for one man’s greed.
The grip on her hand suddenly increases and she whips her head to the side to stare at Gabriel. His jaw is clenched, gaze riveted across the tundra. She follows his gaze, realizing his intense focus is on Alexi, a small Russian whose skill with a blade is renowned. A girl stands beside him, her arm trapped within his grasp. She is white with terror and she hasn’t stopped looking at Gabriel since she arrived.