Sam continued on, swiping the barrel of his rifle at the next man in line. The sharp blade jetted outward, cutting at the Rebel soldier’s chest.
Cullen brought both fists up into his attacker’s throat, knocking him away. As he rolled to his stomach, ready for the fight, a bayonet exploded from the Rebel’s ribcage. Sam stood behind the kneeling man, a ferocious expression ravaging his face. For a moment, the nice and simple boy was lost and replaced by the face of war.
Sam ran to his fallen protector as Cullen sat for a moment, in a daze. Cullen looked around in the chaos, trying to locate any more of his men. Bodies littered the hillside, both Union and Confederate.
Thousands of steps caused the ground to rumble and shake. From the distance, Cullen heard the call for a charge from a Confederate line. They were going to assault the hill in full force. With a moment’s realization, he knew that they didn't have enough men to thwart the attack. They were going to fall.
“Sam, they’re coming!” Cullen yelled, pointing to the flank. A group of nearly fifty soldiers broke their line and were at full sprint toward the hillside. His heart sank at the sight of the fury that would soon fall on them.
Cullen stood tall, his eyes fixated on the approaching doom. He shoved his hand into his pocket to find his one reminder of home. The textured photo made him smile as he withdrew it from its dark home and gazed once more at the face of his love. A tear rolled down his cheek as he turned to look at the fallen men that surrounded him.
“Sam, take this. Find her.” Cullen yelled, thrusting the old photograph into the young soldier’s palm. Sam stood for a moment, utter confusion covering his face.
Without another word, Cullen turned to the battlefield and drew back the hammers on both pistols. The advancing groups of Confederates were now at full charge and making their way up the hill.
Cullen took a shaky first step toward uncertainty. He felt a strange sensation of peace with this. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but he felt like this was the only choice he could make. This boy would live, and find his Hazel. He must. Something deep within his soul told Cullen that he had to protect her.
“Sam! Run!” Cullen yelled over his shoulder as he increased his pace toward the enemy and raised both pistols. Sam stood paralyzed. A look of unbridled horror plastered on his once soft face.
“NOW!” Cullen yelled unable—or unwilling—to hide the irritation in his voice.
Plumes of fire and smoke shot from the barrels of his pistols as he gave one last glance over his shoulder to the boy that would live to see another morning.
Cullen screamed as he ran at full sprint into the mouth of the beast toward his death. His eyes stung from the smoke as rounds tore from his hands and ripped through his enemies.
In his final moments, time stood still for Cullen. He knew that Sam was far from the cries of battle.
He held the thought in his mind of Sam finding Hazel, of him taking care of her and making sure no harm came to her. It was this thought that became his last. Cullen was able to die in peace.
CHAPTER ONE
Life flew back into Gabrielle like the scream of a horror movie. She wouldn’t have known she was lying on her back if she hadn’t immediately sat up gasping for air.
The last thing she remembered was awaiting her death by guillotine as the French commoners watched and cheered. It was awhile before she realized she was squeezing her eyes closed as tightly as possible.
Gabrielle coughed violently as she brought her hands to her throat and grasped at her chin, awaiting for the inevitable separation from her body. Though she clung for dear life, nothing happened.
Opening her eyes, she realized she was in her next life. At first, all she could see was a dull blur illuminated by a faint, fickle light. She closed her eyes again and vigorously rubbed at them, trying to clear the obstruction.
Gabrielle had freed Marie Antoinette’s soul by witnessing her death by guillotine and now had to trudge forth into this next life to free another.
One more fight for an end that likely wouldn’t be pleasant. For a moment, she was lost in her pessimism. What’s the point? She spread her fingers as widely as possible and dug the tips into the soft surface of the bed.
“H-hello…?” she called, her voice nothing more than a raspy croak. She squeezed the soft fabric in her palms as she nervously awaited an answer. Nothing responded.
She felt soreness in her eyes and cheeks; it was like she’d been violently crying.
“Well, that makes sense,” Gabrielle said, the sarcasm surprising her as she said it. Waking up in strange rooms alone had almost become comical to her.
She’d only died twice now since Alexandra had given her the magic bracelet that let her relive the lives of its owners. A third time, possibly, as she still didn’t know what happened to her host life as a house maid in the Palace of Versailles.
She shifted in her seat. Her senses activating in waves, as a sudden rumble of rain made itself apparent on a large window across the room. An orange glow was emitting from a singular oil lamp at her bedside, casting monstrous shadows that danced on the walls of the small room.
The room’s decor was old and she was brought back to the decorations and oddities that adorned Alexandra's shop long ago.
A cold breeze drifted through the room, causing a chill to tiptoe down Gabrielle’s spine and she instinctually brought her hand to the bracelet.
“Still cold,” Gabrielle said to the shadows still dancing on the walls. She realized she’d become rigid, battle ready in case Arawn decided to make an appearance or send one of his lackeys after her. Arawn, she now knew, was the God of the underworld.
He was enslaving the souls of people who died tragically in order to feed his power. Alexandra had explained to Gabrielle the last time they met that it was her job to stop him, although she still didn't know why she was chosen for this.
She could set the souls free by allowing them to tell their stories and accept their fates so they could pass on to the Other World.
As long as her host body was wearing the bracelet when they died, Gabrielle could witness their deaths and set them free. If Arawn managed to use one of his monsters to kill her host body, Gabrielle wouldn't be able to witness their natural death and the soul would be lost forever.
She shifted again with the ensuing chill. Though she’d been in bed, she was above the covers and wearing only a night gown.
She brought her hands to her lap to fiddle with the fabric, pinching and rolling the soft cotton between her fingers. As her sleeve shifted, a silver glint from the bangle rolled into view.
It looked more aged than it had in Versailles. The beautiful marking was still present, but it now looked faded and worn as if it had seen years of wear. She ran her fingers over the letters of the word she didn't understand. Only the l-t -ú-i were visible, but she remembered it from her first life in Scotland.
“Lucht siúil.” Though she doubted that she was correctly pronouncing the ancient text, Gabrielle like to imagine that it sounded beautiful.
Her mind wandered off to think about how long she’d been gone and where she was now, when something at the foot of her bed caught her eye.
She rolled her feet under her and crawled to the edge of the bed. There, shuffled about, was the remnants of a small package that had been torn open. Next to the package was a pile of twine and two letters.
Gabrielle, noting that the box was empty, grabbed the two letters and made her way back to the headboard. Pressing the pillows behind her back, Gabrielle unfolded the first letter and brought it to her eyes.
The paper was rough and thick, like old parchment. It had a brown hue and the edges were crinkled and worn as if it had gone through a lot to be here in her hands. The handwriting sprawled across the page was beautiful and neat. It reminded her of her mother’s writing. Allowing her eyes to focus in the dancing light, Gabrielle let them float across the page.
***
Hazel,
I long f
or the days when I could hold you in my arms. If not for the memories to reflect upon, the curvature of your face, softness of your touch, the sweet lull of your voice, surely I would be a damned man.
It is with thoughts of you and of home that give me the desire to live another day. War has proven to be a Hell which I cannot describe.
I hope this package finds you well and that you enjoy the gift I’ve sent. It was something that presented itself to me and when I saw its timeless beauty, I thought of you.
Until the day that I am home, you are in my arms, and I can show you my true love, I will forever be loving you from afar.
-Cullen
Gabrielle sat in silence for a moment, her mind upon the beautiful words she just read. It had been a long time since she appreciated beauty or love. She’d felt them, she’d felt everything, but she had not actually paused to take them in.
As her fingers rolled over the page, the second letter peaked from beneath it. Gabrielle drew the letter out and unfolded the paper. She was expecting more poetic words, but something struck her as off. The paper was not the same. It was much cleaner, lighter than the first and roughly crinkled.
As she opened the letter and flattened it with her palm, the first thing she saw were areas of smudged writing. It looked like the letter had gotten wet. Leaning closer to the light, Gabrielle squinted and focused on the words before her.
Dearest Madame,
It is with great sadness and regret that I am informing you of the loss of one of our bravest sons in the fight against tyranny and hatred. On the fields of Gettysburg, on which we lost many good soldiers, your husband, Cullen Howard, gave his life to protect the freedoms of a people who could not protect themselves.
He was a friend and leader to all of his men, and of mine. His loss has reverberated through our ranks and he will forever be missed. Our prayers are with you and your family, as well as the families of all those lost.
Respectfully,
Lieutenant James Smith
A dull ‘tapping’ began to sound in the deathly silent room. The rain outside had stopped, but she could still hear dripping. After a moment, she saw the droplets falling on the paper, and running off of the edge. She was crying.
An unbelievable sadness nearly crippled her. Gabrielle thought about how her face was sore and swollen. Before she’d awoken in this life, she’d been crying over this very letter.
The soul that mingled with hers in this body was mourning the loss of her husband. Hazel’s feelings were Gabrielle’s feelings and even though Gabrielle was able to have her own thoughts and actions, she was still bound by the spirit that belonged to this body.
A flash of light tore Gabrielle away from these thoughts. She brought her tear-filled eyes to the window to find that the rain had continued. Wiping her face once more, she crawled to the edge of the bed and placed her feet upon the cold floor.
As she stood, she could tell she was taller than she’d been in her previous lives. Her arms and legs were long and thin, yet she could see the lean muscles underneath and as she looked to her hands, she could see calluses.
The old floor creaked as Gabrielle crossed the room and peered out of the window. Aside from her own reflection, all she could see was a river of black.
She brought her hands to her hair and twisted a thin lock the color of coal around her fingers. She rubbed the pads together, feeling the strands of thick hair before letting it fall down to her waist.
A droplet of rain ran down her reflected face, connecting the dark freckles as if they were a strange puzzle. Gabrielle was happy to see she had freckles in this life, it reminded her of what her real face looked like and brought her a sense of comfort. Unlike most girls her age, Gabrielle liked her freckles; they were her mother’s and they were beautiful.
With only the intermittent flashes of lightning, Gabrielle could tell little about where she was. She seemed to be on the second or third floor of a building, and the land before her looked wide open and flat.
She could see no other signs of light or life outside. After a few moments, Gabrielle turned and walked to the doorway of the room.
Pressing her cheek against the frame of the door in anticipation of what may lie ahead, she slowly opened it careful not to make a sound. The dim lighting from the hallway cast a warm glow across Gabrielle’s face.
She paused for a moment and peered down the hall, listening for any other signs of life. Nothing could be heard other than the distant static from the rain and whistling of the wind. After a few moments, Gabrielle placed one timid foot into the hallway.
She was at the end of a long corridor, with doors running the length on either side. Small paintings hung from the walls. Splashes of paint came together to reveal what vaguely looked like flowers, the crude paintings nothing like what she’d become used to seeing in the Palace of Versailles.
Keeping quiet, Gabrielle began to make her way down the hall, freezing with every creak and groan from the wooden floor. Gabrielle didn’t attempt to open any of the doors she passed; figuring that if it was the middle of the night, waking strangers would do neither her nor them any good.
As Gabrielle reached the top of a set of stairs, a familiar smell crept into her nose. A sweet smell of tea and honey assaulted her scenes, bathing her in a fog of nostalgia.
At the base of the stairs was a door. Light on the other side shot around the cracks, illuminating the entrance like it was some sort of mystical sign. As Gabrielle paused, she considered what might be waiting for her. Seldom had she searched around at night and found anything other than Arawn waiting for her in the shadows.
Reflexively, she felt her bracelet for any signs of warning. It was cold. She’d been through enough to trust in the fact that when there was a certain type of danger, she would be warned. Keeping her eyes glued to the door before her and one sweaty hand wrapped around her bracelet, Gabrielle finished the descent and placed her hand upon the door.
Just as she did this, the light broke from the other side for a flickering moment. She stepped back as she realized there was someone on the other side.
Gabrielle closed her eyes and listened with all of her strength to see if she could hear anything that would give her an idea of what or who stood on the other side. Muffled sounds of shuffling and objects being moved about were the only things that could be heard
Gabrielle rubbed her companion upon her wrist as if she were asking, “are you sure?” She took a deep breath, clenched her right hand into a fist, and slowly pushed the door open.
CHAPTER TWO
The warm lighting, sweet smell of tea, and the lived-in appearance of the organized yet messy kitchen, brought back such strong feelings of familiarity that Gabrielle clasped one hand over her mouth.
The smell of fresh herbs mixed with the aroma of the fire brought a longing pain to her that sat heavy in her stomach. Gabrielle’s gaze stopped at a massive table in the center of the room. A woman sat at the table deep in thought, unaware of Gabrielle’s presence.
She stood in silence and watched the woman stare into a cup of tea, stirring it idly. The woman looked to be in her twenties, and her skin was smooth and dark like obsidian. She had thick, black hair that drifted down her ears and covered half of her beautiful face.
Gabrielle let her eyes wander from the woman’s high cheeks, down her neck and to her hands. The long, slender fingers were mesmerizing as they stirred the tea. As she watched the elegant fingers go around and around, Gabrielle caught a glimpse of something.
A glint of a silver necklace stood out like a single star in the night sky as it ran down the girl’s neck and disappeared between her cleavage. As Gabrielle wracked her brain to remember where she’d seen the chain before, the girl shifted her stance and looked off into the fire. Gabrielle backed up so she was completely hidden by the shadow of the door.
As the girl brought her head up, Gabrielle took in every detail, from a sea of soft, raven skin, two beautiful, violet eyes peered out. Gabrielle’s heart qu
ickened and a single word burst forth from her lips with such excitement that her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.
“Morrigan!” she yelled, and darted from the shadows of the doorway. Gabrielle found herself standing opposite the woman before she realized it was possible this wasn’t Morrigan and she would have to explain her bout of craziness to a complete stranger. The woman craned her face towards Gabrielle and then slowly stood from her chair.
The silence between the two was only broken by the ambient music made by the rain pummeling the window outside. Gabrielle waited in silence for so long she began to wish she’d never come down the stairs in the first place. Suddenly a wide grin spread across the woman’s face revealing a perfectly straight white row of teeth.
The color contrast made the woman’s skin appear darker and Gabrielle marveled at how perfect she looked in that moment.
“Gabrielle—” The name sounded strange coming from the high pitched voice of a woman with a soft southern twang. Morrigan squinted her eyes, as if she were trying to read Gabrielle’s spirit. She slowly put the spoon from her tea down. Gabrielle nodded, her eyes still transfixed on the woman that stood before her.
“Morrigan?” Gabrielle asked, timidly this time. Morrigan gave a small nod, her eyes never leaving Gabrielle’s. The world melted away as the two nearly pushed the table aside to embrace. Gabrielle threw her arms around Morrigan, snuggling her face into the woman’s neck.
“Thank you. Thank you for being there for me when—” Gabrielle tailed off, an image of the guillotine coming down on her flooded her mind.
Tears threatened to pour as she squeezed Morrigan with all of her might. The last time they’d seen each other, Morrigan’s lavender eyes had been her only comfort in her last moments.
So many questions and emotions were running rampant in Gabrielle’s mind. She couldn’t even begin to figure out where to start. How did Morrigan get here in this life? Where were they? How had Morrigan taken the body of a woman when she’d always been a man? Gabrielle forced all of these questions aside and just appreciated the moment of safety and companionship.
The Gabrielle Series Boxed Set Page 28
