“Yes, I’m afraid so. Hester’s doing Samael’s bidding. She stumbled upon my plans to free you. I have a…I had a bad heart and she waited until it was too late to give me my pills. She feared I would free you before she could release Samael. She believes he will save her niece. She doesn’t realize he lies to get what he wants.”
Michael nodded. “Samael does what suits him and thinks not of what others need. I am sorry you lost your life, Mr. Donner.”
Mr. Donner waved his hand in dismissal. “I was an old man. Lived long and well, but you must save Clarity Shaw from Samael’s clutches.”
“Clarity.” So that was the woman’s name.
“Samael plans to drain her blood and perform a resurrection ceremony.”
His brows came together in a frown. “How does he know of such dark magic?”
“Hester’s been researching black magic. She saw a way around the curse.” Mr. Donner’s shoulder’s slumped and Michael knew there was more bad news.
“If I am to help the female, you must tell me all of it.”
Mr. Donner gave an exaggerated sigh and nodded. “I convinced Clarity to come here. I’ve seen Sophie Peabody’s journal at the Historical Museum. She wrote it in the fashion of Leonardo, backward and right to left, but I deciphered a passage about you and Samael. Only a true female descendent of Sophie’s can break the curse. This female will see the writing in the book left in the otherworld and she’ll understand the meaning of a lover’s kiss.”
This made no sense to Michael and it also sent his blood boiling over the idea of her having a lover. “She shall kiss no man in front of me.”
Mr. Donner chuckled softly, which proved to anger him further.
“You are amused, Mr. Donner?”
“You’re attracted to her. Souls do recognize each other and I gambled that Clarity would be the one to connect with yours. I researched her background thoroughly. She is pure of heart. Like yours once was.”
Michael pursed his lips together. “You are a deranged old man. I have never been pure of heart.”
Mr. Donner’s gaze swept over him, obviously seeing something more. “The witch fashioned you after the Archangel Michael. Her actions were spurred by anger, but the curse could not make a monster of you. Samael had a dark side when he was alive and now is no different. Through the centuries it has festered, revealing his true self. Like his name, Samael, he is like the angel of death, the one mortals should fear, for he does not bring the souls salvation but condemns them.”
“You talk in riddles old man.”
“Do I? Good and evil have existed throughout time. Why should it be different now? You have a chance to make this right. This time you will not fail. Go to Clarity. Save her before it’s too late.” With his last words, the spirit of Mr. Donner disappeared into the mist.
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “How do you save a woman who does not wish to be saved?”
Chapter Five
“She’s getting away,” Hester screeched, her voice echoing behind Clarity.
Crazy receptionist, a ghost, a cursed madman, and an angel statue coming alive—yep, this motivated her to risk tripping over a gravestone and breaking a limb. Her senses told her if she were caught, the alternative would be worse.
“You cannot run from us,” Samael’s voice came to the left of her and she took a quick right, hoping the preternatural being couldn’t throw his voice and trick her into running into him. Maybe she should have stayed with Michael. He seemed the least threatening of the bunch.
Her gaze caught sight of a low headstone a moment too late and her leg clipped it, sending her sprawling to the ground with a curse.
Samael’s low chuckle told her the outburst gave her location away. She scrambled to her feet and cursed again when her ankle refused to hold her weight.
“Don’t fight your destiny,” Samael told her. “Come willingly and I’ll make this quick.”
Gee, thanks. She remained quiet, but her thoughts bristled with defiance. Sign me up. Not. I have no intentions of lying down for you so you can do what your demented heart desires.
“There’s no escape,” he taunted. “You’re trapped here until the sun rises. How long do you think you can hold out?”
As long as it takes, she promised. She rubbed her ankle, grateful the pain subsided to something tolerable. She didn’t break anything, just bruised it.
To keep her promise, she better stand up and limp away. There was no reason to make this easy for Samael. Before she could manage the feat, the sound of flapping wings overhead drew her attention. A whoosh of wind fluttered the strands of her hair away from her face. She felt him before she saw him, his presence like a cloak of security.
“Michael,” she murmured.
His body materialized out of the mist, his wings spread wide in all their majestic glory. His gaze landed on her with concern as he took the additional steps to reach her. His dove colored wings slid close to his body as he crouched down beside her, his beautiful face inches from hers. She opened her mouth to tell him that Samael was out there, but he pressed a finger to his lips and nodded. Gratitude choked her, making her eyes tear. He knew of the danger and he came for her even though she’d told him to leave her alone. She felt safer already.
With a swift movement, he scooped her up from the ground as if she were as light as a feather. Her arms went around his neck, an automatic response, but not necessary. She knew instinctively he wouldn’t drop her. His gaze found hers then shifted to her lips. The way his sky blue eyes lit up gave her the odd feeling he wanted to kiss her, but just as quickly all emotion left his face.
“You can’t take her,” Samael spoke. A whirlwind of air and debris took the mist away, swirling into nothing and revealing Samael a few feet away. His face turned a molted color, splotching his features. His eyes blazed like red orbs. He didn’t look too happy to find that Michael had found her first. Samael swung his arm in an arch and fire flew from his fingertips.
“Oh sh—” Her curse was cut off with Michael’s sudden movement. His wings came around her, shielding her as a blast of heat flew at them. She closed her eyes for what good it would do and hid her face in his chest. They would be burnt to a crisp, but as seconds ticked by and Michael still stood covering her, she realized her flesh hadn’t melted from her bones. His wings were soft and feathery, but they shielded them like body armor.
“You cannot have her.” Michael spread his wings and took flight.
Clarity’s stomach lurched as they rose above the cemetery and she squeezed her eyes shut again.
“Do not fret. I will not drop you.”
Her eyes popped open, his angelic face only inches from hers. His lips twitched at the corners.
“This is not funny.”
He sighed, not entirely contrite. “No. It is not. I apologize.” His eyes met hers. The magnetic pull almost too much to bear, she looked away. Burying her head in the crook of his neck, she breathed in his fresh earthy scent like dew and pine—a woodsy masculine scent. She chanced a look at him again and her gaze snared his, causing her heart to flicker and leap in response. Kiss me. She thought.
As if he heard her plea, his lips covered hers and she gave into the smooth, warm demand of his caress. They landed, but he didn’t put her down. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his mouth opened over hers and she relished the way his tongue stroked her own. The thought of an angel kissing her was mind blowing enough, but the reality of it actually happening definitely rocked her world. Her heart pounded in her chest as if it wished to escape.
Finally, he allowed her to take a breath. “Can you stand? Are you injured in anyway?”
Her ankle felt better and her heart still fluttered erratically in her chest, but she nodded. He put her down, her body sliding against the hard plane of his masculine physique. Kissed so thoroughly and possessively, she forgot in those few moments her existence hung in the balance of life and death. Her feet touched the ground and she tentatively put he
r full weight on her foot. There was a twinge of discomfort, but she could handle it.
She realized Michael hadn’t let her go. He still held her close against him and her heart continued to race. “How did you do that? Make me…desire you. Really, I don’t kiss a guy without knowing him first. Is it some kind of angel magic?”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “There is no angel magic. I am as put back as you are. I have not had a human desire…for a female since the curse was cast.”
Her ear rested against his chest and she could hear his heart beating just as fast as hers. Then she realized what he said and looked up to meet his gaze. “No human desires since the curse?”
He nodded as his hand brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. His gaze touched her features with warmth. His finger lightly caressed the eyebrow earring. “Is this a charm of protection?”
How did she explain an eyebrow earring to an eighteenth century man? “Hmm, uh, yes, something like that.”
He nodded in approval. “Good, you will need protection.”
“From you?”
He frowned, not realizing she teased. “Do not fear me. The curse will allow me to defend those who ask for help.”
She slipped from his embrace, reining in any emotional attachment as she did so. “So you came for me because of the curse.” She didn’t understand why it miffed her, but it did.
“But do you not see? You refused my help.”
Her hands came to her hips and she stared at him for a two full seconds before shaking her head. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means, I have never been able to choose my own path, but with you it is different.” He took a step toward her, but she stepped away, lifting a hand to halt him. As if this would have any effect whatsoever. He could do as he wished. Heck, fire didn’t even faze this guy.
Her gaze met his head on. “Do you want my blood, too? I might as well know where I stand.”
He didn’t answer, but took the steps that separated them and showed her.
Chapter Six
Michael knew he shouldn’t do this, but those long forgotten needs couldn’t be ignored now that they resurfaced with a vengeance. Once he touched her lips for the first time, it proved too late to rein them in. The ragged heat and the sweet pull of desire overpowered any clear thought other than to take her into his arms. Claim her. Make her his.
His hand snaked out, grabbing her arm and pulling her against him. She wanted to know where she stood with him. She was his. Even knowing how illogical those words were, he didn’t stop. She could never be his. She belonged to the living and he belonged with the dead, but for now, for the time between sunset and sunrise, his heart could not rationalize the difference.
His lips sealed over hers and took possession of her mouth. He expected her to pull away, slap him, but instead she leaned closer, melting her body against his once more. Her hands plunged into his hair, drawing his head closer to her. She wanted this as much as he did. God, she tasted wonderful. She smelled even better like the morning dew and sunshine.
Even as he plundered her mouth, he knew they shouldn’t be out here in the open where Samael could find them. He needed to hasten her away to safety, but the moment her scent enveloped him, his brain faltered and his more primitive needs took over. Pressed so close to him, she should know how much he wanted her, but she didn’t shy away. His hands swept down the small of her back. Her tongue boldly swept inside his mouth to mate with his. His body trembled with need to take her, but he held back. One of them needed to take control of the situation and fast. They were in danger and in more ways than one.
He broke the embrace, the action almost painful as the spell was broken and he could think clearly again. Well…sort of. His breath was shallow and if she made one gesture to step into his embrace again, his fragile hold of what must be done would take second seat in his logical way of thinking.
Clarity stepped away from him, her hand going to her mouth, her eyes wide, confused, and dazed with passion. She shook her head. “This isn’t right. You’re…I don’t know what you are.”
He reached for her hand and put it to his chest. “For tonight, I’m alive. Perhaps it has been you all along that I’ve waited for. I feel it. You can break the spell.”
She yanked her hand free. “Samael wants my blood and what exactly do you want from me? And don’t deny you’re after something.”
“I won’t deny it.” He could see it in her eyes; he surprised her with his answer. “I want you.” There he said it, put it out there, and it couldn’t be taken back. The truth would either frighten her or it would ease her mind. Surely, her reaction to his kisses couldn’t be dismissed. Her body felt the pull. What had Mr. Donner said? Souls meant to be together would find each other. Maybe his soul could still be redeemed.
Her brows lifted high on her forehead and her gaze slid down to where his obvious attraction for her was evident. “Believe me, I’ve noticed,” she said dryly.
Heat rose in his face and his cheeks felt hot, but he wouldn’t deny the obvious. He didn’t have time to court her in a conventional way. He had hours to convince her to stand by him or all would be lost. “Yes, I want you in a…very human way, too.”
“In a human way? What other way is there?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t do kinky.”
Through the ages the language had changed and he picked up most of the alterations and the different usage of the words, but now and again a word baffled him. By her wary expression, he would bet kinky was not a good thing to her. “I would never do anything you would not want to do.” He placed his hand over his heart. “On my honor, you have my word.” This seemed to put her at ease. Her features relaxed a fraction as she tried to process what happened between them. “I know you do not wish to hear this, but you are of Sophie’s blood,” he reminded her.
“The witch.” She rolled her eyes.
He nodded, searching for just the right words to say to her. “You have awakened me. You’ve awakened the human soul in me. In all the centuries, no one has managed that feat.”
Her gaze landed on his wings and he pulled them close to his body, embarrassed by the appendages. “I cannot help what Sophie’s curse made me, but my future, my life is in your hands.”
Clarity closed her eyes in a deliberate blink and she inhaled deeply before she looked at him again. This time it was with less hostility. “I can’t help you, Michael. I don’t possess the power to release you from the curse. I’m not a witch.”
He believed her, but she did hold some kind of power. Maybe it was simply because she was from Sophie’s bloodline. It would make sense if Samael wished to use her blood for his dark magic. No matter what else happened this night, he had to make sure she was safe. They were already out in the open too long. “Come with me.”
“What? Why?” Again her expression filled with uneasy worry.
“Please, if you are willing, I’ll you show you how you can help me to put an end to this hell I’ve lived in. Together we can defeat Samael and in exchange, I’ll keep you safe from harm.”
Chapter Seven
Clarity’s gaze swept over him, wings and all. He’d been cursed and turned to stone, an effigy of the Archangel Michael. Were his features anywhere close to what the real man had looked like? If so, he sure had her attention. What was she saying? Her gaze landed on the wings and she swallowed the lump threatening to choke her. She had the hots for an angel, a cursed one at that.
“Samael is a danger to you.”
He didn’t have to remind her. She already knew that first hand.
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning blazed the sky. Michael glanced up and frowned. “Come on, he’s near.” He offered his hand, his gaze latching onto hers as he waited for her to make the decision whether to trust him.
A high-pitched bellow behind her was all the encouragement she needed. Her hand grabbed his and his warm fingers curled around hers with a gentle squeeze.
“I’m with you,” she told him.
He nodded, his lips curving at the corners. “It is not I you want to be with, is it? It is just you feel it is better to be with me than what lies behind you.”
“Well, yeah.” She really wasn’t into pretending at this point. She hadn’t decided if this was all a dream brought on by the bump on her head or if the legend had truly come alive. Either way, her survival mode switched on the moment Samael appeared on the scene. “What is Samael? He can’t keep a solid form for long.”
He glanced over his shoulder as they continued toward the burnt ruin. “He’s a spirit, his corporeal body ravished when Sophie struck him with her wrath. Be well aware, he doesn’t have to be solid to do damage, but he’s more lethal when he is.”
“You’re flesh and blood now, aren’t you?”
His light eyes slid over her, making it painfully obvious he was flesh and blood enough to want her. He looked away and she felt suddenly cold. “I can bleed. If that is what you ask.”
“Not exactly. I was wondering why you’re still sporting wings. I mean, you really aren’t an angel…are you?”
“It is the curse. I am neither human nor angel, just a spirit representing a combination of both. I can feel pain. I can bleed and I can die, but at the end of the night when the sun rises again, I’ll turn to stone once more, frozen and waiting for another person to sit upon the devil’s chair. I’m cursed to defend no matter the cost.”
No matter the cost. His words sunk in with a chilling effect. He suffered each time a person sat in the chair. Fight. Bleed. Die. Dear Lord in heaven. “How many times have you died?” They reached the ruin. The smell of burnt wood still permeated the air. He helped her over the threshold laden with debris. She turned and looked at him. “How many times?”
His shoulders slumped and his ageless blue eyes lost their luster. “So many times, I have lost count.”
She reached for him, but he moved out of her reach, his eyes hardening. “Do not pity me.”
Curse of Tempest Gate Page 4
