Fate's Kiss

by Elysabeth Grace

  A shadow fell across the page and Anne blinked and raised her eyes from diary. Sunlight brightened a different corner of the room. It was nearly midday Her gaze returned to the fragile diary in her hands. So much of Amina was inscribed in the dark ink. Her love for Michael Drake, the torment she felt each time he and the Phoenix set sail, and the joy their son brought to her and Michael. Amina’s fears were also etched on the delicate paper. Fears that Mephistopheles would one day succeed in ending her life mate’s life.

  Anne leaned back against her chair and hesitated before she read the final entry in the diary. It was written the day Amina and her beloved Michael died, separated by an ocean. Hours before she joined her life mate in death, Amina instructed her twin to keep the diary until there was a Tamahaq of her line who carried Lilith’s gifts then give the diary into her descendant’s safekeeping.

  Tears gathered in Anne’s eyes. She fought to suppress them, to will away her grief and the pain in her chest. When the ache finally was gone, she removed several folded sheets of paper and opened them, read them, and returned them to their placing hiding in the diary. Her fingers inched out the smooth linen cloth tucked securely between the frontispiece and the backing. Once the cloth was free, she unfolded it. On the smooth surface lay a miniature portrait of a very handsome couple. The man's noble white face bore the same hawk-like features as her Uncle Richard. The arrogant jawline, the thin lips, and the piercing stare also reminded her of Kit.

  Her hand shook when she turned the portrait over to read an inscription she knew by memory. Michael Drake and Amina bint Daoud. Anne turned the portrait back over and stared at the woman's features. It was like seeing her reflection in a looking glass except the woman's skin was a slightly darker brown. Even the shape of her nose and mouth were a match to Amina. The beautiful woman in the portrait was the fierce warrior Anne struggled to be.

  Amina would be proud of her descendant and the warrior you have become, Tamahaq.

  “How can you be so certain, Raphael? I think she’d see a coward instead of a warrior. I hide behind the walls of Holland’s League as a white Englishwoman. Amina remained true to her race. She never hid behind a shadow, nor did she walk in fear. I can’t even walk about London as Anne Willoughby,” she said bitterly. “I hate this shell, this life I’m forced to live.”

  Do you think Amina lived without fear? You have read her diary and know the secrets she kept even from her twin. You witnessed Amina’s pain in the Tamahaq’s own words. You are as strong as your ancestress, Anne. Rid yourself of this self-pity. It will not serve you when the Fallen attack again, and they will.

  18

  Gabriel’s stare was pitiless as he toed the smuggler’s body. It was completely drained of blood yet not a single mark gave evidence of a violent crime. The man had died noisily, his pleas and offers of gold and slaves ignored. A beacon flashed several times. Gabriel stepped over the corpse and stared out to sea, watching the incoming boat.

  Smugglers along the Cornwall coastline were no longer afraid to be open about their activities. What troubled him most was the demon king’s involvement. It was more pronounced, but didn’t explain why the smugglers had taken to trafficking humans in addition to their other activities. Mephistopheles was clearly searching for something, or someone.

  Gabriel stroked his chin, trying to make sense of it all. Most of the humans taken were women or the blacks born in England. The group held captive in the warehouse near Plymouth harbor had been set free but their freedom was probably temporary. The trafficking in people was far too profitable. Another smuggler would simply rise to replace the one he just killed.

  The dead man rose from the ground and flew into the sea, thick chains weighting it down. As the body sank, Gabriel experienced a grim satisfaction that this pawn was no longer useful. He’d toyed briefly with the idea of leaving the smuggler alive to know what enslavement was like. Unfortunately, the man chose to fight and blood hunger ended his life before Gabriel could carry out his vengeance.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, anger and frustration nipping at the edges of his mood. The kill was satisfactory but didn’t assuage the other, more pressing hunger. The one tied to Anne Willoughby.

  Nothing changes, my lord. You will have to come to terms with our union. He strode away from the cliff, fighting the urge to pay a visit to Holland’s League before he returned to Alenesby House. He wanted to lose himself between his life mate’s thighs. Gabriel squashed the desire and translocated to Alenesby House.

  It was near sunset when he walked into his library. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he drained it and set the glass on the table. His need for Anne seemed to never leave him. Always flitting at the edges of his self-control, the itch he wasn’t able to fully scratch. When he left London, he worried about her safety. Worry was not how he wanted to live his life. Being at the mercy of a woman was also not part of his plan. Yet here he was, doing both.

  He walked over to the fireplace and slammed his fist against the fireplace mantle. A string of invectives exploded from his mouth. Against Fate, his destiny, and especially the woman who had slipped beneath his guard. Pain shot across his nerve endings and he embraced it as a reminder of how careless he had become. He needed to restore order to his life, a life where Anne Willoughby understood her place in his world. A life free of the bewildering emotions raging inside him. An existence free of attempts to make him human.

  Gabriel peered over at the bottle of wine on the table. The bottle’s cork slowly twisted itself until it floated above the table. His wine glass slid close to the bottle as it tilted, the blood-red liquid flowing into the glass. Once the bottle re-corked itself, the glass appeared in his waiting fingers. He took a sip, the wine a cool sensation as it moved down his throat. He leaned his forehead against the mantle.

  Anne had nearly died because of his arrogance. There had been no reason to take her to Alenesby Manor that night. His lust was just as easily gratified at Holland’s League. So why did he do it? Why did he need to claim her in his bed, in his house, and on his terms? The answer came and he didn’t care for the guilt attached to it. Anne didn’t fear him, despite knowing what he was, and he wanted her afraid of him, wanted her out of his life. His life mate didn’t understand how it difficult it was for him to remain true to his purpose as long as she was in his life. She was an obstacle he didn’t need. His purpose was clear and he didn’t want it muddied by a woman.

  “There is so much for you to learn about your life mate,” a disembodied voice remarked with laughter.

  Raphael appeared in the room and strode to the table. He poured himself a glass of wine before he seated himself on a chair next to the desk. “You do have excellent taste in wines, Gabriel. Pity your thoughts are so unrefined.”

  “I suppose you’re here to plead her case. Don’t waste your breath, Archangel. Until this bond is broken, I have no wish to entertain arguments for its existence.”

  Raphael’s humor lit his face. “I really did warn Gabriel you wouldn’t take kindly to ignorance. Oh well, what is done is done. I’m not here to argue the semantics of a union Fate mandates. How you and Anne resolve your squabbles is between you and her. Besides, the Tamahaq is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

  “As she did when she was attacked and nearly died?”

  “Her distraction that night,” Raphael said, tilting his head to stare at Gabriel, “led to Anne’s carelessness not her ability to defend and protect herself.”

  The archangel raised the glass to his lips and drank. “Your wine cellar is quite good, Gabriel.”

  “Why are you here, Raphael? What do you want from me that I will, of course, refuse?”

  “The two attacks on the Tamahaq have left her vulnerable. They also indicate a change in Satan’s, or should I say, Uriel’s scheme since he’s the one who devised this whole demon and undead plan. I don’t think the witches are the sole reason Holland’s League is under siege. The Tamahaq’s near death and your quest for revenge have
become even more inextricably linked.”

  “Are you saying the two are connected?”

  “Of course that’s what I’m saying, Gabriel. Your lives have always been connected. Ever since Anne . . . ” Raphael silenced himself.

  “Since Anne what?”

  “It is not my place to reveal the Tamahaq’s secrets.” The archangel stared at the fireplace. “No matter what humankind believes, demons and angels do experience passion, love, and affection. Ishtar asked Mephistopheles’ permission to avenge Isis, Betsy. Since you took her life, your sire refused. You are far too valuable to Satan’s plans and Mephistopheles really wants to bring you to heel. Ishtar foolishly ignored his liege’s warning not to seek revenge for his daughter’s death.”

  Raphael rose from his chair. “The death of Isis and Ishtar could be borne. They were foolish. The deaths of Ishtar’s other daughters is a greater problem for Uriel. Their abilities died with them and no other hybrids like them exist.”

  “Why should I care about any of this? You angels created this mess, and creatures like me. Quite honestly, I think Fate and whoever invented this great prophecy of yours underestimate me.”

  The archangel emptied his glass and it disappeared. He walked over to Gabriel who chafed beneath the angel’s intense scrutiny but didn’t flinch. “I assume my reply ends this parley.”

  Raphael smiled. “Not entirely. I’m here to request a favor, Gabriel. The Tamahaq’s life was nearly lost twice. Impetuous as ever, Anne didn’t stop to consider the implications of her actions when she taunted Ishtar and made certain every supernatural on Earth not only is aware she is Lilith’s descendant but also that she inherited several of Lilith’s abilities.”

  The archangel peered into the fireplace. “Fate does not permit me or your guardian to interfere once a mating has taken place. She does not place such restrictions on the Fallen.”

  Gabriel eyed Raphael but remained silent.

  “Whether you accept the bond or not is your choice, Gabriel. Anne told the truth, only death can end the life mate union. What you need to understand is that Anne Willoughby is a unique weapon. It will soon become obvious, if it hasn’t already to Satan and Uriel, to control her will be far more important than your allegiance to the demon king.”

  “Anne seems perfectly capable of fighting her own battles. A point she’s made clear numerous times.”

  Raphael’s icy glare settled on his face. ”Your arrogance does not become you, Gabriel. Cease your efforts to fool the world. You’re not doing a very good job fooling yourself. Your emotions are not as secret as you believe. You feign indifference but your life mate already has a place in your heart. Just as you have a place in hers. Because you are her life mate, this particular battle will become yours. To achieve victory, you will need your life mate.”

  He turned his back to Gabriel. “Since you are, as human beings say, hell-bent on demonic extirpation and Anne is both important to and a threat to their breeding plans, I think her protection is in line with your revenge on the demon king.”

  “What do I get if I agree to your request?” Gabriel asked.

  “A lure to get closer to your enemies and a warrior who will fight by your side and at your back. Will you consider it, Gabriel? Will you protect Anne? As the Tamahaq’s Guardian, I will forever be in your debt.”

  It was Gabriel’s turn to stare. He studied the archangel, certain there was trickery in his request. “What does it mean to have an archangel in your debt?”

  Laughter followed Raphael as he opened the door and strolled out of the room. “Agree and find out.”

  “Agreed.” To Gabriel’s surprise, the words “thank you” floated back into the room.

  Silence enveloped him and Gabriel embraced it. His mind reviewed the angelic visit and request. A sardonic chuckle escaped his lips. Even without the archangel’s plea, he intended to protect Anne. Raphael had spoken a truth. As much as he resisted the life mate bond, Gabriel knew his heart was involved. He had seen the blackness and fear inside him when he carried her unconscious body into Holland’s League, realizing her death meant he lost half of himself. His heart had become invested. He’d stared at her bloodied body, the knife wounds seeping a thick tar-like substance, and it had shaken him to his very soul. He frantically worked to remove the poison eating away at her. Once he was assured she would live, he fled the brothel unable to bear the chaotic emotions that had taken over his mind. He fed then sought the privacy of Alenesby Manor. Locked himself in his bedchamber and attempted to stave off the inevitable, and to pretend he had control over his life and his heart.

  Raphael was right. Anne had insinuated herself into his heart. The deadly attack on her had taught him the meaning of fear and he experienced all of the sensory responses that came with it. The desperate need to know where she was at all times. The worry she would jeopardize her safety, give her life for the witches of Holland’s League. He was afraid for her. Afraid of what she stirred inside him. Afraid of the emptiness that would consume him if he lost her.

  Every moment he spent with her unraveled the carefully erected barriers between himself and the world. Unbeknownst to her, she had restored a quality in him he vainly tried to erase, his humanity. Gabriel knew she would not tether her compassion or emotions. She’d willingly give her life to guard his back. She had no understanding that should she die only Fate could end the monstrosity that he would become. Without Anne, he had no desire to behave as a human.

  19

  Anne relaxed her muscles once she was safely inside her bedroom. It took time to control the shivers that followed. Her trembling had nothing to do with shifting back into her body. She was adept at controlling the effects of her changes. This time, however, her skin felt as if it had been scored with the edge of a dull knife and her legs felt like they’d been filled with pudding. For several minutes, she did nothing but breathe. When her body finally steadied and her heart ceased to race, she began to pace the room. Her soft tread made no sound on the wood floors, allowing her to consider the demon Asael’s words.

  She hadn’t revealed her plan to follow one of the demons back to its lair. If Bella had known, her fussing would have been heard as far north as York. Anne shuddered as she tried to imagine Gabriel’s response. It wouldn’t matter, the growing presence of demons and undead around Holland’s League made all the women feel besieged. Her life mate would have been incensed.

  Without a word to anyone, she had quietly slipped out of the house as a fly and trailed behind Tesrel, who led her straight to Uriel’s faithful henchman Asael. For once she was grateful she had paid attention to one of Raphael’s lessons as she immediately recognized the Fallen angel when she entered the room.

  I’m pleased to hear that at least one of my many lessons caught your attention.

  She grinned sheepishly at Raphael’s intrusion. “I had other things on my mind when you were instructing me, Guardian.”

  I’m well aware of that, Tamahaq.

  Anne’s mind returned to Asael and the threat he posed to her and Holland’s League. She had settled comfortably on Tesrel’s shoulder while Asael interrogated the lesser demon. Asael’s final command to Tesrel chilled her soul. The Fallen angel revealed she and two other women were needed to create a new species of supernaturals, which was why she needed to be captured and unharmed. Unfortunately, Asael failed to reveal exactly what kind of new species the Fallen planned to create.

  Her teeth gently worked her bottom lip while her fingers toyed with the single braid that fell against her cheek. The smooth space between her eyebrows puckered as she ended her pacing. She had resisted the temptation to read Asael’s mind. He was no ordinary demon. Like Uriel, Asael sided with Satan during the civil war and had fallen with the seraphim. After the expulsion, Asael and Mephistopheles had chosen to become demons. They mated with captured female angels and those who chose to fight alongside Satan to create the demon race. Anne wondered if Satan’s plans for her and the other women was to create more demons. D
ismissing that idea since she wasn’t an angel, she sighed her annoyance. Gabriel’s frustration with mysteries and puzzles began to make sense. “Damn.”

  “Such language is unbecoming a lady.”

  She whipped her head in the direction of her bed at precisely the second Gabriel’s body appeared on the thick mattress. “What are you doing here?”

  “How quickly you forget, sweet Anne. I’m your life mate,” he replied. “As to why I’m here, I thought we might talk about the level of idiocy you manage to achieve whenever I’m about the King’s business.”

  “Good evening, Gabriel,” she said, her voice honeyed as marzipan.

  She walked over to a side table. Pouring wine into two glasses, she returned to her bed and handed him a glass. When he took it, she climbed onto the bed and sat beside him.

  “What exactly were you doing for the king? Was my cousin-in-law involved?”

  “What I frequently do for our monarch, a bit of spying here and there.” He drank some of the wine before his blue eyes narrowed and focused on her. “Which demon did you follow?”

  “How did you know?” The glance he shot her was enough to confirm the foolishness of her question. “Tesrel, who led me to Asael.”

  “Asael? Isn’t he one of Uriel’s guards?” When she nodded, Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “How did you escape his attention?”

  Nervous laughter tinkled from her throat. “He wasn’t expecting a fly.” Her expression became defiant in response to the heat of anger touching her life mate’s eyes.

  “I don’t regret what I did, Demon. Even though what Asael said terrifies me, I’m not sorry I went.”

  “What did he say to scare my fierce warrior woman?”

  Anne stared into the dark red liquid in her glass, her fingers tight around the stem. “Until now, I thought only Mephistopheles hunted female supernaturals. He has been single-minded in pursuit of witches and we know the reason for the hunt. Since we became life mates, I assumed the demon king saw me as a way to entrap you, to gain your allegiance. What I heard today is much more. There is a different breeding plan, one that involves me and two others. What I can’t grasp is to what end? What will we bring to Satan that he doesn’t already possess?”