“Kids know.” Sophie nodded, still smiling brightly. “That’s good news,” she added. “Thanks for sharing.” She turned the warmth of her smile onto Juliette, and Jules couldn’t help but grin.
“You’re welcome. I knew you’d appreciate hearing about it.”
They lapsed into another silence for a few minutes. Sophie broke it this time. “I had no idea Scotland was so gorgeous,” she said as they rounded the corner of a street that reminded Juliette of Diagon Alley from Harry Potter. “I mean, this looks like Diagon Alley,” Soph continued, making Juliette grin widely. “I expect Hermione to come around the corner with a big orange cat any second now.”
“You would love that, wouldn’t you?” Juliette teased. Soph was a huge fan of Harry Potter. All that magic and the bad guys who weren’t really bad guys. It was right up Sophie’s alley.
“You know I would,” Soph shot back, laughing as she said it.
“So tell me honestly,” Jules teased her, “how long would it take for you to find your way to Snape’s classroom and pretend you’d been a bad student who needed a spanking?”
Sophie’s jaw dropped open. She gave Juliette a fake punch in the arm and then laughed. “Okay, okay, you foulmouthed little minx! Not long at all, actually.”
Juliette giggled and the two moved on down the street. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing wizards and witches don’t exist, after all.”
“Nonsense,” Sophie replied. “If angels can exist, anything is possible.”
“I guess you have me there,” Juliette admitted. They moved in silence for a few moments, and Juliette didn’t miss the plethora of bodyguards Max and the four archangels had hired to tail the girls. They kept a far enough distance behind her and Sophie to give the girls privacy, but close enough to frighten away the men who glanced their way.
Juliette looked over at her best friend. Sophie’s smile was gone now and her attention seemed to be turned inward.
“You okay?” Juliette asked, wondering whether everything was finally getting to the girl.
Sophie looked up and smiled. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“Wanna share?”
“I was just wondering whether witches and wizards are allowed to go back to Hogwarts even when they’re adults, the way they can here in the Muggle world.” She laughed softly, but there was a hint of something wistful to her laughter.
Sophie had never had a chance to attend a university or college. As a runaway, she’d gone straight into the work world, and though she would sometimes speak of attending classes in film or acting, she treated the notion as more of a pipe dream than anything else, no matter how much Juliette tried to encourage her otherwise. Juliette wondered now whether that was where this sudden wistfulness was coming from.
“You do know that Hogwarts is make-believe, right?” she joked, wanting to ease Sophie’s pain if that was indeed the issue.
Sophie shot her a dirty look and tsked her with a shake of her head. “Shame on you, Juliette Anderson. And just when I was going to invite you to the Quidditch Cup next week.”
The girls passed a candy shop and Sophie stopped, pulling Juliette to a halt beside her. “Wait. I gotta go in here.”
Juliette rolled her eyes. It never failed with Sophie. She was all about immediate gratification.
The two entered the sweetshop and Sophie began filling a basket with treats. “So, what is this stag-party slash hen-party thing all about, then?” she asked as she picked out chocolates by the handful. “God, British chocolate is divine. I have to see if I can get some of this in my suitcase for the trip home.”
“I don’t know actually,” Juliette replied, biting her lip to hide her smile. “I think I have to go and do some strange things like get a man’s trunks and wear them and kiss ten guys or something.”
Sophie’s brows raised. She turned a doubtful expression on Juliette. “And Mr. Black is going to let that happen? The ten-kisses thing?”
Juliette blushed. Sophie had met Gabriel and was admittedly impressed with the archangel. She’d also made it very clear to Juliette that she was convinced no man had ever been more obsessed with a woman than Gabriel was with Juliette. So, she had a point there. Juliette would be shocked, too, if Gabriel actually allowed her to go and kiss ten guys. Then again—he was Scottish at heart. And this was tradition.
“Yeah, good luck with that, Jules.” Sophie shook her head, rolling her eyes. “God, I can’t believe the company you’re keeping these days,” she muttered, breathing out a sigh of utter fascination. She leaned in and whispered, “Archangels. And not just any archangels—but the archangels. And only Michael and Azrael have yet to find their archesses?”
Juliette glanced nervously up at the woman behind the counter several yards away, but the woman was wearing an iPod and was utterly oblivious to their conversation. The bodyguards were all outside on the street. She nodded at Sophie.
Sophie sighed heavily. “Too bad I can’t be an archess with you. Damn, it would be so cool to be able to bonk some jerk-off on the head with telekinesis or set his shoes on fire like Drew Barrymore.”
Juliette started to smile at that, but stopped. Sophie was right in a way. She was so beautiful and so special—and so kind, even after everything she’d been through. If anyone in the world deserved to be an archess, it was Sophie. The thought made Juliette feel inexplicably sad.
Sophie frowned as she watched Juliette’s expression change. “Hey,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m kidding. You can have the power, girlfriend. I’m not really into angels anyway.” She smiled wickedly, flashing those perfect straight white teeth of hers. “I’ve always been more into the bad boys. You know that.” She winked and Juliette felt instantly more relaxed.
“Fair enough,” Juliette replied, picking out a package of Parma Violets for herself. “Only a bad boy could keep you in line.”
“No one can keep me in line,” Soph shot back, giving her a impious look over her shoulder as she took her basket to the front counter. “And I’m going to prove it tonight by making sure you kiss all ten men you’re supposed to kiss, no matter what your betrothed has to say about it.”
* * *
“Are you ready for this?” Michael asked softly as he adjusted Gabriel’s collar. They were standing at the altar of a church in Cruden Bay, where they had gathered to get dressed for the wedding and sign marriage documents. Once they were finished, they would take a car just down the road to Slains Castle, where the ceremony would take place.
Juliette and her bridesmaids were there already, hidden from view inside an elaborate bride’s tent that Michael and Max had built for them.
“I’ve been ready for two thousand bloody years,” Gabriel replied, smiling as he said it. His body felt tingly; his chest felt light. He felt strange—in a very good way. “Is Az here yet?”
“I’m here,” replied a deep, melodic voice. Gabriel turned as his incredibly tall, incredibly handsome vampire brother came through the front door of the church dressed in a black tuxedo that made him look like candy for a very wealthy, very beautiful sugar mama.
“You clean up nice,” Michael teased the vampire.
Az shot him a fanged smile and then closed the distance between himself and Gabriel. “This is for you,” he said as he dug into the inside pocket of his tux jacket and pulled out what looked like a parchment rolled up and wrapped with a ruby red satin ribbon.
He held it out toward Gabriel, and Gabriel looked at it warily. “Wha’ is it?”
“Your wedding present,” Azrael replied easily. “It’s the reason I was late arriving at the scene during the battle with the Adarians the other night,” he went on to explain. It had been a while since Gabriel had heard the former Angel of Death string together so many words at once. He wasn’t a man who spoke without reason. Maybe he got out everything he wanted to say while onstage.
Gabriel raised a brow. “You got there in time,” he said. He could tell Az felt bad about having shown up after Juliette had already b
een taken.
Azrael’s smile turned warm. He obviously appreciated the sentiment, but again, it didn’t require words to express as much.
Gabriel gently took the rolled parchment from his brother’s tapered fingers and pulled the ribbon loose. It fluttered to the ground in a crimson flurry. Gabriel unrolled the tall piece of paper and began to read.
His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. He read it again.
And then he looked up at Azrael to find the vampire archangel watching him with twinkling golden eyes. “You’re welcome,” Az said softly. And then he turned and strode across the church toward the door once more. Michael followed him, a knowing smile on his face. Apparently, the Warrior Archangel had been in on the secret.
The two men were joined by Uriel, who appeared in the moonlit entrance, his green eyes taking in the scene. “You ready?” Uriel asked, his emerald gaze settling on Gabriel, who yet stood stock-still, frozen in shock at the front of the church.
Gabriel closed his mouth and swallowed hard. He glanced back down at the deed in his hands. He was now the proud owner of one Slains Castle on the coast of Cruden Bay, Scotland. That was, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him and he wasn’t dreaming. He exhaled a shaky breath and half smiled, half laughed.
He thought of the castle and he thought of his soon-to-be bride. And then he thought of how she would react when he told her the news.
“Yes,” he said, nearly breathless with happiness. “Yes, I am.”
EPILOGUE
The pipers played clear and true that night. The notes filled the sea air with a purity befitting the occasion. The crowd grew silent and stood as one as the first bridesmaid appeared at the end of the row and began to make her way down the aisle of crumbling castle walls and strewn rose petals.
Gabriel nodded at Eleanore, who smiled back warmly. She was stunning in the lavender bridesmaid gown they’d chosen, but Gabriel doubted the archess could look anything less than stunning, no matter what she wore.
She took her place on the left-hand side of the priest, across from Uriel, and turned to gaze down the aisle as the maid of honor came around the corner. Juliette’s best friend, Sophie Bryce, was wrapped in pale lilac, the color of a Scottish thistle. Her fair golden skin and long golden hair were offset by the color to stunning effect. Gabriel had to admit that Juliette’s friend was an incredible beauty.
She nodded at Gabriel, smiled warmly at Eleanore, and took her place in front of the other bridesmaid, across from Azrael, who acted as best man.
Gabriel nodded back at her, and some tiny part of him noticed that as she looked up and over his shoulder, something strange flashed in the depths of her sun-colored irises. But he could not concentrate on it; he was unable to. At the moment, his entire body was wound tight as a drum. His heart beat for only one woman that night, and if he had to wait much longer for her to walk down that aisle, he was going to break rank and leave the altar to find her himself.
At last, the pipers crescendoed and he felt his chest open up and his eyes nearly water with emotion as Juliette and her parents rounded the castle corner. “My God . . . ,” he whispered, unable to help himself. He gazed at his chosen bride, his living, breathing angel—his archess—and felt his breath leave him. She smiled at him, her cheeks flushed, her hazel green eyes flashing with warmth and promise, and Gabriel Black knew then and there that he was forever ruined to find as much beauty in anything else in the world—ever again.
* * *
Azrael forced himself to remain where he was, standing there at the front of the wedding party behind his brother. He forced himself not to move. Not to speak. He was constrained to compel himself to do these things with every single inhuman fiber of his supernatural being, and it was one of the most difficult tasks he had ever undertaken. He had to rein himself in as he had never imagined he would have to. The vampire archangel called upon two thousand years of training on Earth and countless thousands of years of existence as the Angel of Death to find within himself the strength he needed to allow Gabriel to have the wedding he deserved.
Azrael marshaled himself to stillness.
But what he wanted to do was step around the groom, grab the golden-haired, golden-eyed maid of honor, and take to the skies with her.
Because she was the one. She was the woman he had been waiting for—looking for—night after night, for the last twenty centuries. Sophie Bryce was an archess.
And she was his.
* * *
Read on for a look at the new installment in the sexy and enthralling Lost Angels series,
DEATH’S ANGEL
Available in January 2013 from Signet Eclipse
* * *
He’s an archangel, Sophie told herself sternly as she tried with all her might not to fidget. She stared up the long aisle of decorated chairs to the altar before Slains Castle. Azrael stood there beside the groom, and to her, he was the epitome of everything desirable in a man. His incredibly tall, imposing form was draped in the color of night, and the suit was tailored to fit his extraordinary physique with absolute perfection. His sable hair fell in gentle waves to his shoulders and made Sophie’s fingertips itch with the need to touch it. His skin was so fair, it was nearly translucent. He honestly looked like a vampire lord in that expensive tux, his gold eyes nearly glowing in their intensity, and it was making her a little nuts.
Juliette Anderson, Sophie’s best friend, was getting married, and Sophie was the maid of honor. It was her job to stand there and be supportive, to take the bouquet and carry the train and all of that business. But as the vicar gave his Gaelic blessing to the gathered members of the wedding party and the pipers poured their bittersweet music across the castle grounds, Sophie could concentrate on nothing but Azrael.
Azrael the archangel.
Juliette had told Sophie all about him. He and his three brothers were the four favored, the Old Man’s favorite archangels. Jules had hammered Soph with the news about them short hours after Sophie stepped off the plane in Edinburgh. Sophie had her own news that she’d been wanting to share with Juliette for the last three weeks, but when she’d seen the look on Juliette’s face and caught the frantically anxious tone of her voice, Sophie’s affairs had instantly taken a backseat to Juliette’s and they’d remained there ever since.
Gabriel and his brothers were none other than the four most famous archangels in existence: Michael, the Warrior Angel; Uriel, the Angel of Vengeance; Gabriel, the Messenger Angel; and Azrael, the Angel of Death.
He looks the part, Sophie thought now as she again stole a surreptitious glance at the gorgeous man. He was too handsome. It was that kind of handsome that was difficult to look at.
According to Juliette, the four favored had come to Earth two thousand years ago in order to find something very precious to them: their mates. It sounded like something out of a werewolf romance, but there it was. Apparently the brother archangels had been given gifts by the Old Man in the form of four perfect female archangels, whom he called archesses. Before the archangels could claim them, however, the Old Man sent the archesses to Earth, and there they were scattered—lost to their mates for centuries. Until now.
For some reason the archesses seemed to be popping up all at once. Well, maybe not all at once, Sophie reasoned as she dutifully lifted the train of her best friend’s gorgeous wedding gown and followed her down the aisle toward the altar. After all, Juliette was only the second archess to be found out of the four that had been created. Maybe it was only coincidence that she and the first archess had both made their appearances within months of each other. Still . . . two thousand years without anything, and then in the course of a few months, two archesses appear?
Sophie glanced furtively toward Uriel, the first archangel of the four brothers to have met his archess. He looked incredibly handsome in his fitted tux, with his piercing green eyes and wavy dark hair. Uriel had been surprising enough for Sophie to take in because he was also Christopher Daniels, the famous actor who played J
onathan Brakes, the “good” vampire in the hit movie Comeuppance.
Azrael was harder for Sophie to take in. Not only was he literally the most handsome man Sophie had ever laid eyes on, he was supposedly the lead singer for Valley of Shadow, which was at that moment the most popular rock band in the world.
Once she’d processed the information, she realized it made a lot of sense. ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .’ How fitting, she thought.
As the enigmatic lead singer of Valley, Azrael always took to the stage wearing a black mask that hid half of his face from his fans. His voice crooned and hypnotized, pouring out over his audiences with immense influence.
Sophie had been a breathless, swooning fan of Valley of Shadow since its inception. She’d been as mesmerized by the Masked One’s physique, charisma, presence, and ethereal voice as every other woman in the world. When she streamed his songs through her iPod, she was able to close her eyes and pretend that he was singing to her—and her alone. Hell, she even dreamed of him.
Oh jeez, she thought as that memory flushed her with both embarrassment and baffled anticipation. The bride took her place at the front of the altar, and Sophie held her bouquet as the ceremony began. Sophie couldn’t believe she was actually standing there, a few feet away from the Masked One. To say nothing of the fact that he was also an archangel. The Angel of Death, no less! Her mind spun with the implications.
He’s looking at me. She could feel the archangel’s golden gaze searing into her from where he stood opposite her beside the altar. She forced herself not to meet his gaze. She couldn’t do it again. Every time she glanced up at him, she felt that he was staring right through to her soul, reading her from the inside out, absorbing her very spirit with those piercing orbs of his. It was too much. And yet, even as she knew she shouldn’t look at him again because of the way it made her feel—she wanted to.
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