by Sophia North
It must be exhaustion toying with her nerves.
Returning to inspect the box, Hannah failed to notice a pair of glowing eyes emerge at the end of the long corridor. They pulsed red at the sight of her before disintegrating from view.
Chapter Nineteen
GABRIEL SKIMMED THE stone stairs leading to the main doors of the museum. In front of the massive steel doors, he stopped and waited for his expected rendezvous to surface. Within seconds, a shadow moved beside him.
"Tiberius," he greeted, turning towards the pillar where he'd seen the movement emanate from.
"Consul," his old mentor replied. The shadow transformed into a elegant middle aged man dressed in the quintessential Burberry coat and hat. The chilly damp British summer was in full force. "Bit later than expected, again."
Gabe sighed. His nights were increasingly less his own since he'd assumed command of all vamp troops. A task made harder with his two Prefects occupied elsewhere. But a Praetor's Marker had to be repaid.
After the mute vampyre, Godfrey's escape - with the aid of Mariam, the half fae vamp - a whole new can of worms had opened up. Add to that the Warlock's none too subtle declaration of war and Lowerton was really starting to heat up.
Yet, despite his current trials and tribulations, he'd come most nights to watch over Hannah. And when he couldn't stay, he'd send Tiberius, determined to make good on his vow to keep Pierce from proposing.
"Another late night at the office?" Gabe asked, a hint of humour in his voice.
"The lady is nothing if not consistent, but it's Saturday night! Surely there are other, more interesting diversions to partake in than a musty old museum. Although, I suppose when someone is going through profound transformation it is natural to seek solace in one's work."
Gabe's heart pounded at the news. "What are you talking about?"
Tiberius's golden eyes glowed in response. "I told you very clearly at the start of this enterprise that I would not report Lady Hannah's every move. She is entitled to her privacy. Something you should respect given your pathological insistence on maintaining yours."
Over five hundred years together and the Shifter still liked to hold his hand to the fire when Gabe was being out of line.
"Why mention it, if you feel it too private for me to know?"
"Because something happened tonight...there was a presence. I felt it's energy shift in the atmosphere."
"Why are you here if Hannah is in danger?" he barked, turning to leave and go to her immediately.
"Gabriel, calm yourself. The presence is gone. It was fleeting...and I could not detect its purpose."
Tiberius's observation bothered Gabe, but he remained silent, allowing his old teacher to continue.
"It may have even been generated by Hannah. She has been going through quite a spell of change lately. Purchasing a new home...ending a long-term relationship. These can sometimes trigger strange occurrences in humans with enhanced abilities. I thought you should be aware of this possibility."
Hannah had ended it with Pierce? The news made Gabe's heart skip a beat. She was free. Free to be his.
Suddenly a great ripple of energy passed beneath their feet.
Warlocks! He would know their signature anywhere.
"Hannah is in danger," Tiberius cried. "Gabriel, go! The archives. Don't do anything...stupid."
Gabe didn't hear the last part of the sentence. His only thought was to protect Hannah.
THE BOX'S CARVINGS definitely bore an uncanny resemblance to those she'd observed on Gabe's onyx cylinder. Moving the magnifying glass to better see their intricate design, Hannah caught sight of a slight unevenness at the bottom of the box. Sitting back, she turned it on its side to gauge the depth of the tiny planks of oak.
As expected, there was space between them and must mean there was a false bottom.
Another wisp of wind tickled her cheek, stirring the loose tendrils of hair that had come loose from her haphazardly tied ponytail. This time, however, Hannah did not get the chance to look for its cause.
An invisible hand wrapped itself over her mouth and violently pulled her from the stool she'd been sitting on. Arms flailing, her screams of alarm were muffled, as her body was propelled backwards at an incredible speed and pinned to a far wall by her throat.
But still her assailant remained unseen. The tightening grip told a different story though. It constricted her very breath as her body inched higher up the wall until her feet dangled high above the tiled floor.
With her air supply cut off, Hannah tried to free herself and vainly kicked out, hoping to make contact but instead only encountered empty air.
Unceremoniously thrown to the floor, she grunted in pain on contact.
Momentarily freed from her invisible attacker, Hannah crawled on her knees. But the reprieve was short-lived. No sooner had she gotten her bearings again, when the attack resumed.
Tossed like a rag doll from her crouched position, this time she was slammed against the metal shelving along the corridor. The force succeeded in knocking the wind from her, and quite possibly broke a rib or two.
Desperate to call for help, Hannah found the plea trapped in her throat. The most she was capable of emitting was a soft whimper of pain. Defeated she lay in a contorted position on the floor, gasping for breath. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth, so great had been the impact.
Hannah wasn't completely certain she heard the almighty roar, her grip on reality was tenuous at best. But when she felt herself being gently lifted into the embrace of strong arms and a hard chest, her first reaction was to fight.
"Shhh, cara mia. You are safe...I have you...you are safe."
Gabriel. Gabriel had saved her...she was safe. Safe in his arms.
Overcome by the pain of her injuries, Hannah gave up the fight and sank into a painless oblivion.
Chapter Twenty
SLOWLY RETURNING TO consciousness, Hannah laid still trying to regain her senses. At first, she struggled to recall what had happened, but soon the frightening attack at the museum assailed her memories.
"Easy, Hannah. You've been through an ordeal," Gabe's husky voice soothed.
Sighing contentedly knowing she was safe with Gabriel, Hannah gingerly shifted her weight, anticipating the inevitable pain from being assaulted. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately realised two things. One: she was in bed; and two: she felt no pain whatsoever.
Scrambling into an upright position, her gaze locked with Gabe's. He sat at the end of the rather large bed she was in. Behind him, through a pair of open doors, was an elegant sitting room, which led to her next thought being: where the hell was she?
"I've brought you to my suite at Claridge's," he explained. "I...thought it best under the circumstances."
"Thank you...for helping me," she rasped, her voice still a bit croaky. "Why don't I feel any pain?" she asked, her voice returning.
Gabe glanced away, almost guiltily.
"Good God, am I dead? You haven't turned me into a vampyre have you?" she accused, her voice growing higher with every word.
"For an OO associate your knowledge about vampyres is so woefully lacking it is embarrassing," he replied in a matter of fact tone. "Vampyres are not 'turned', they are born. What exactly do you do for the Order? For I have never met an OO operative so ignorant."
Hannah's amber eyes narrowed. She didn't appreciate his constant berating about the OO and her lack of understanding. It was starting to make her wonder why he wanted to discredit them in her eyes. Was there something about the Order that threatened him?
"It would seem you are the one who is ignorant. The OO is a large, complex organisation that oversees many different areas of research. Not everyone is 'in the know', you know."
That last bit sounded ridiculous, but she was too offended to care. The vamp, Ultimate or not, was far too arrogant by half.
"Hmm, I see your point," Gabriel said, even though the way his eyes danced with amusement showed he didn't.
Offense quickly turned to anger. Scooting to the side of the bed, intent on taking her leave, Hannah attempted to stand. Bad move.
The room started to spin the moment her feet hit the floor.
Gabriel scooped her up in his arms before she lost her balance and in that moment she realised she was wearing nothing but a shirt. One of his dress shirts evidently, as she swam in its crisp whiteness.
Swallowing down a surprised screech, Hannah found herself with an excellent side profile view of her saviour. Lord, he was handsome with his patrician nose and angular cheekbones. And those lips...so full. The memory of them crushing hers in a passionate embrace sent titillating shocks of excitement down her spine.
Gabe sensed her stare but could no longer read her thoughts. He'd never be able to again. His Praetor blood in her system would no longer allow him access. Their bond was now of a far deeper nature. And the power of it laid in Hannah's hands, not that she was of this fact.
Very few humans had ever been given the blood of a Praetor. It was rare for one to bestow it. To give the healing blood to another meant a part of them flowed within the one who'd partaken of it. And Praetor blood held great strength.
Hannah must never know what he'd done. But if he hadn't, she'd be dead.
The injuries from the attack had been severe. Her neck had been broken, her windpipe crushed. Only his blood could have saved her and he had not hesitated in giving it. Damn the consequences.
Letting her body slide slowly down along him, Gabe released her from his grip. The rustle of the shirt's crisp fabric as he did so was incredibly sensual.
"I highly suggest no sudden movement for awhile, you need to recover," he whispered in her ear.
Would wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him senseless count as a 'sudden movement'? For the urge to do exactly that was hard for her to resist.
Overwhelmed by a strong desire for him, she stepped away, eager to put some distance between them. She did not trust herself to not give into the temptation.
"Yes...recover. I think I should sit down...I'm feeling a bit light-headed."
Gabe took her arm. "Come, we will move to the sitting room and I shall order you something to eat. I suspect you are feeling rather hungry...it's a natural reaction after your ordeal."
Hannah was ravenous...for him, not food. Shocked again by her unwholesome urges, she let Gabe guide her into the next room. The feel of his strong hand steadying her, sent electric tingles throughout her body. She wanted more.
Banishing her impure thoughts, she glanced around the suite in the hope she'd be able distract herself into not letting them return.
His suite was a beautifully furnished. Rich navy brocade curtains graced the large floor to ceiling windows lining the wall of the sitting room. Cream and navy furnishings, well positioned throughout the generous room, clearly delineated both social and work areas. At the very far end of the space was an elegant walnut dining table that would sit eight comfortably.
"Perhaps I should have saved my money and moved in here," she remarked nonsensically. Gabriel would have no idea she'd just bought a house, hence her reference would make no sense. But she didn't stop there. Inane conversation was better than none. "One certainly isn't cramped for space. And the room service would be ideal. I cannot remember the last time I cooked for myself...I might very well starve now that I'm on my own."
Why couldn't she stop with the rambling? She was starting to sound insane.
Gabe held out a glass of red wine in offering. "Here, drink this. The richness of the wine will be of great benefit."
Hannah accepted the glass, grateful to put her mouth to other uses than ridiculous chatter. Taking a sip, she let the fullness of the wine slide over her tongue. The deep flavours of red currant and chocolate stood out as it slipped down her throat.
When it's warmth hit her stomach, it quietly rumbled to life.
"See, as I predicted," he teased, hearing her hunger. "Shall I ring, Winston?"
Suspicious that he knew her favourite waiter's name, she snapped, "Have you been spying on me?"
"Spying is such a crass way to put it, my sweet. I prefer to call it, 'respectfully watching'," he answered, walking over to a telephone on a small table. Picking up the receiver, he pressed the button for room service. Turning to look at her, he smiled charmingly. "Good evening," he said to the person on the other end of the line. "Ah yes, quite so. Good morning. Could you kindly send up..." Gabe arched an eyebrow at Hannah in expectation of a food order.
"Steak...no, roast beef...oh wait, no definitely steak."
Gabe rolled his eyes. Apparently indecisive women were a problem for him.
"Send up steak and roast beef...Sides?" He had no idea what the hell they were on about. Keeping up with dining lingo had not been a high priority for him over the centuries.
Hannah shook her head. Her hunger was for meat. Rare and bloody meat.
"Ah, no sides required. As for the beef, make it rare...very rare."
Her eyes bulged when she heard her thoughts parroted aloud by him. Had she been mistaken about him not being able to read her mind?
After he hung up, she was quick to find out. "Why did you order rare? For one who 'watches respectfully' should surely know I prefer medium."
"Your usual tastes are going to be...somewhat changed for a short time."
His cagey reply raised more questions than answers.
"You are being rather selective with your words. What aren't you telling me? Come to think of it, you have yet to explain why I do not have a scratch on me following the attack."
Hannah crossed her arms and sent him an expectant look. She really had no idea the effect she was having on him. His desire matched hers, impulse by impulse.
He may no longer be able to read her thoughts but he could certainly feel them. And she wanted him just as much he wanted her.
"As a Praetor, I have knowledge far beyond the average vampyre. And because of it I was able to heal you."
'Close enough to the truth to pass a polygraph', was his new motto to live by. There was no need to upset her unnecessarily with the truth. What was done was done.
"Then I have more to thank you for than I initially thought," she replied, the tension between them receding a bit. "Your skill at healing is exceptional, you would make an excellent A&E physician, if not for the whole vampyre blood drinking thing you have going on."
Hannah's cheeks flushed at the thought of Gabriel's strong hands tending to the battered and bruised. It was difficult to reconcile his killer nature with such an ideal. But his gentle treatment of her could not be ignored and nor was her body in the mood to let her.
Painfully aware at how little she was wearing, Hannah moved to hide her long naked legs behind the navy settee nearby. "Do you happen to know where my clothes are?" she asked, keen to take her mind off the carnal thoughts that had worked their way back in.
"I regret to tell you they were beyond salvaging...you lost quite a lot of blood."
Hannah nearly spat out the large sip of wine she'd just taken. That was not the answer she'd expected.
"What were the extent of my injuries?" she asked in between coughs. They would have had to have been severe to destroy her clothes completely.
Gabe was saved from answering by a brisk fist to his door.
Hannah jumped at the loud pounding.
"Here, put this on," he instructed, tossing her his coat. "My rather loud subordinate seems to have forgotten his manners. And I'd prefer not to reward his poor behaviour with such a fetching eyeful," he finished with a nod in her direction.
The long leather coat hit her chest with a distinct smack. Hannah slipped it on quickly, equally keen to not be on display.
"Consul," a deep voice greeted from the hallway. "Patrol completed its search and has returned with this."
"Brutus, you are aware we are not the only guests on this floor?" Gabe's deep voice carried clearly to the living room. Hannah was starting to know him well e
nough to detect the menacing edge in his query.
"Yes, Consul. My apologies." Was the Praetor's brisk response, aware he'd crossed a line with his leader. "It will not happen again."
Nothing more was said. Evidently Gabriel was a vamp of few words. Moments later he came back carrying the wooden box from the museum.
Excited to see the artefact again, albeit somewhat alarmed by his apparent theft of it, Hannah started to walk over to him when she tripped on the hem of the coat. Arms flailing in a most undignified way, she was about the crash to the floor when once again Gabe caught her in his arms.
"You really need to get a better handle on your balance, love," he teased, as her arms wrapped around his neck.
This time Hannah's resolve melted away. Tracing his full lips with her thumb, she smiled at the sharp intake of breath he took. Had he thought of their kisses as much as she? she wondered.
"Hannah, you have yet to recover..." he warned.
She didn't let him finish his sentence. Pressing her lips to his, she gently coaxed him into returning her kiss.
Gabe ran his hands into her thick raven hair. Plundering her mouth, he deepened their embrace. He'd been fantasizing about kissing her for days. And he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to taste her again...wherever he so desired.
Continuing to ravage her lips, he carried her to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed. The memory of her in nothing but her bra and panties made him hard. He'd been very pleased to discover the delicate white laciness that laid beneath the casual clothes she wore. Their utter femininity confirmed what his senses already knew. She possessed the innocence he craved most. A sweetness he had to consume.
Hannah laid on the bed, the black leather coat she wore fanned around her reclined pose. The crisp white shirt gaped open at the throat and rode up to reveal an unobstructed view of her long legs and white knickers.
Gabe knew exactly what he was going to taste next.
Watching him at the base of the bed, Hannah grew wet under his hungry gaze. She desperately wanted him to come to her, so she slipped her hand down and began to undo the buttons of the shirt she wore. When she'd unbuttoned the last one, she then let her fingers trail down her stomach. Reaching the top of her underwear, she ran a finger tantalisingly along the scalloped edge.
