A rock flew out of the crowd. It struck Honoria on her pale shoulder, turning her sideways. As if she hadn’t noticed she now had a gash on her skin the size of a plum, bleeding freely down her arm, Honoria righted herself again, with that same smile on her face and continued. “Gabriel has never met an opponent he could not defeat, never met a woman he could not charm. Not even me.”
The ground shook. But it wasn’t the ground, it was him. Amelia laid a hand over his rumbling chest. “Please,” she said. “We have to move.”
He could not look away from the bitch Caesar.
Only a handful of soldiers remained but it didn’t seem to matter that the crowd was free. Most of them were too busy fighting each other, brutally bashing and pounding each other instead of turning on their rich patrons. There was smoke in the air. The kind that usually preceded a firestorm.
Half of Honoria’s court had run. The other half stood there, crying, shaking with fear, but they would not move.
“No one would have expected a man like that to end up here, killing for our pleasure. A few years ago, the world had been open to him and if the scales of fate had tipped another way, he would have been king in his own right.” Honoria’s smile dimmed, her eyes became sad. “How could I let that happen?”
The rumbling stopped. The crowds disappeared and the world plunged into silence broken up with the beat of his heart.
Amelia said nothing.
The strangers stared.
Choooooose…
Choose what?
Honoria turned back to the crowds, her movements no longer as smooth as before. The muscles in her neck and jaw twitched, as if she was fighting a compulsion to speak. They were minute signs, hardly visible except to those who knew to look for them. Her voice never changed when she continued her little speech. “I first saw him in a back alley brawl put on by low life scavengers, facing two opponents, cornered and unarmed. He defeated them with such elegance. Even then, I was smitten by this man.”
“Gabriel, we need to move.” The alarm in Amelia’s voice hardly registered. He felt her tugging him to keep going. He couldn’t move more than a single step. And it wasn’t toward the pod.
Choose.
The more Honoria spoke, the more her eyes changed. From dreamy, to shocked, to terrified. Her posture became rigid, her muscles tense. Fear rolled off her in sickening waves, and still she kept talking and smiling, while fires erupted left and right before her. From the corner of his eye he could see the bright orange flames flicker higher. No one was fighting them. Several had torches in their hands, weaving through the crowd like fireflies.
It meant nothing to him. Gabriel was wholly intent on the Caesar and her speech as it dawned on him she couldn’t stop herself. Like him, she was being forced to do this; say things never meant to be heard, and she had enough sense to know it.
Gabriel listened to her talk about her affection for him, how she couldn’t rest until she had acquired him for the glory of Rome, and for herself. Shock had formed a shell over his body, locking him in place, but inside a furious storm was growing.
With a proud raise of her chin Caesar exulted her own genius, the way she’d planned every step, manipulated her way into the lives of four friends while they had no idea who was behind it all. Gabriel screamed denial in his head.
It had been an amusement to her to see her architect build up a city as an homage to the girl he was so enamored with.
Cute little Paige, hopping from foot to foot in front of him, tiny, ineffectual fists raised in front of her nose. She’d made him laugh. She’d had the brains and the courage, just lacked the physical strength. He’d been teaching her. Arms high, doll, guard up. Gabriel would gladly have called her sister.
Dead.
A tactical maneuver to remove her from the picture.
Brilliant Alex, with his pencil always on a notepad, or napkin, anything he could reach, drawing magnificent designs unlike anything that had ever been seen before. Paige was in every single schematic, secretly hidden away in the code of measurements. He would have changed the face of the world.
Dead.
And Jack with his concoctions, always finding something new, something better. Never the same dish twice, never an unsatisfied stomach leaving his kitchen. Never a harsh word to say about anyone, always quick to laugh.
Dead.
And Gabriel wanted to howl with anguish.
“Don’t listen. Don’t let her hurt you more.”
The girl, her architect, and finally the cook.
Family to Gabriel.
Obstacles to her. That’s what she called them. They weren’t human to her, just roadblocks between her and what she’d wanted to achieve. The panther stayed quiet as the human raged on the inside. This wasn’t its fight. Gabriel’s hand fisted so tight around the sword’s handle he could feel it crack.
As the last of her court finally broke apart and ran, Honoria bragged about the way she had moved meddlesome pawns off her playing board one by one to make way for her king… “And he came, as I always knew he would. He came to me, and Rome was going to be ours.”
The mob had all but overpowered the soldiers. The fire was spreading, devouring house after house, toxic fumes poisoning the air he breathed. He somehow knew all this, though his gaze never left Caesar’s face.
Choose.
Honoria doubled over as if in pain. When she straightened again, she smiled and kept on talking.
Amelia’s forehead touched his shoulder. She was getting weaker by the second, holding on to him instead of keeping her wound covered. The scent of her blood was so thick around him it overpowered the smell of Rome burning itself to the ground and it maddened him.
Honoria spoke about how hurt she was every time he refused her, how much she’d wanted to take care of him each time he’d been injured, but could not bring herself to overcome her repulsion of blood. She turned to him again, as if in a brief moment of clarity she broke through the compulsion to speak her true mind. “I killed my general for you.”
His eyes widened. Gabriel cast around for Soren, fully expecting him to jump out of the crowd. He tightened his hold on Amelia, nearly knocking himself off balance, but he would fight the fucker from the ground if he had to.
“I gave you everything!”
Except Soren never appeared. Gabriel frowned.
“See!” The word hissed straight into his ear, so close Gabriel’s head whipped around, sword raised to meet the threat. But there was no one. The strangers hadn’t moved an inch, still watching him with those damn unnerving eyes. Then the civilized one nodded his chin by slow degrees and Gabriel swayed on his feet.
For just a moment, his vision split between the present, and some other place, just as the small sun rose. He saw Soren sprawled on the marble floor, naked and bruised. He looked the picture of serene repose, except for his eyes. The terror in them made Gabriel shudder. Soren didn’t move because he couldn’t. But his chest rose and fell in quick, shallow pants and his voice carried in short, quiet whimpers.
The vision moved, as if Gabriel was really there, standing over the general while those petrified eyes of his followed him step by step. He could almost feel an echo of someone else’s emotions. Betrayal, anger, disgust, and revulsion, yet at the same time excitement and arousal. The eyes he was looking through swept over the general, lingering on the frantic pulse beating in his chest, then on his flaccid member.
A pale, feminine foot reached out to caress it and Gabriel almost retched.
Then Soren coughed weakly, the paralysis allowing for only the smallest of movements while blood sprayed out of his mouth. He was choking on it, helplessly drowning while his murderer stood there and watched, amusing herself. When Soren started to gurgle and Gabriel saw a feminine hand reach down, the vision mercifully ended.
Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. What the hell was that?
He felt the strangers watching him regain his bearings and an impossible thought crossed his min
d, as impossible as a man who could turn into a panther. Could one of them have shown him this? Could it be true?
As if he heard him, the taller one rolled his eyes and shifted his weight. The other didn’t have a single tell. He simply met Gabriel’s gaze and waited for him to form his own opinion.
The thing was, Gabriel could believe it.
Huh … Soren really was dead. And the woman he’d been so devoted to had killed him.
Time unfroze and Honoria’s voice pierced through the din, aiming straight for his heart. “I would have given you everything and you left me for that insipid bitch,” she hissed.
Everything inside him quieted in a moment of true clarity. Gabriel’s gaze turned inward, back through time, seeing his life as he never had, not since the recruiter showed up at his dorm room. It hadn’t really been his life at all. It had been Honoria’s.
She’d manipulated him, played him to her advantage and every move he’d made had had her invisible hand behind it. Because as long as he played, she had his attention—had him. Everything she’d worked for, killed for, was the notion that Gabriel would eventually choose her.
All this time he’d been blinded, oblivious to the games she played.
But now he knew. And it was his move again. His choice.
Choooooose…
He did.
His jaw was cramped shut, fangs sharp and poking into the soft tissue of his mouth. Gabriel hooked an arm under Amelia’s knees and picked her up. The woman who kept his heart beating sighed, her breath warm on his chin and it calmed him. Her arms looped around his neck and he was home. He chose this.
Honoria could go fuck herself. He was done playing her games.
When Gabriel turned to the pod, Caesar turned back to the crowd with a pained moan and kept on talking, spilling all the dirty little secrets that would have torn this place apart from the inside if it wasn’t already happening. The words were ripped from her and even a rock striking her temple didn’t stop her. Gabriel hoped this crowd tore her to pieces.
The riot would last for days. He was glad he wouldn’t be around to see it.
The strangers met him on the ramp like a hostile welcome party. If they made him set Amelia on her feet again to fight them back, he would be taking body parts and proffering them to her as presents. Just as he was about to tell them exactly that, a white haired female came running out of the pod, dressed in black leather pants and a silver top that molded to her every curve.
“You’re Amelia’s sister,” he said by way of greeting. He recognized her from the video.
Amelia raised her head a little and smiled. “Hey, sis,” she said.
Hailey nodded. “Are we done here?”
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at Honoria. She was visibly in pain now, struggling to stop herself but the words kept coming. He allowed himself one second of resentment, of hoping that her torment lasted a good long while and that after it was over she burned forever in the deepest pits of hell.
And then he let it all go. “Yeah,” he said. “I think we are.”
The taller male raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure? You don’t want to go tear apart the woman who single handedly killed everyone you loved and destroyed your life? You’re going to walk away?”
So much death. Gabriel couldn’t unmake any of it. But he could do the one thing that Honoria would never understand and never forgive. It was the perfect revenge. He’d only needed someone to make him see it. The worst thing he could ever do to the Caesar of Rome was deprive her of the satisfaction she so craved. Just walk away and forget her. “Got everything I need right here,” he said. “You want to tear someone apart, though? Be my guest. I won’t stop you.”
The man regarded him through a steady golden gaze. Seeming to make a decision, he nodded. “Get Amelia onboard. I’ll take care of this.”
Gabriel frowned at him.
“She’ll keep coming,” The other man explained. “Trust me, it’s safer for all of us if she’s … no longer capable.”
Hailey came forward and brushed Amelia’s hair back. Gabriel almost snarled at her. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast,” she told them. “We need to get her home ASAP.”
Ankles numb. He’d fall over soon if he didn’t sit down.
Amelia waved her sister away. “I’ll be fine.”
Gabriel met eyes with the other female’s glowing silver ones. They started up the ramp in unison. The two men didn’t follow until he was at the very top, one foot in the pod. As the ramp rose, he glanced over his shoulder at the carnage on the ground.
His last sight of Rome was its glorious Caesar standing at the front of a stampeding mob. Shoulders slumped, eyes vacant, she stood silent and motionless, lost in the face of her impending death, blood and drool dripping down her chin as the masses bore down on her.
Chapter 36
Amelia’s world plunged into darkness and then the din of Rome imploding was gone. She heard Hailey snapping out directions and miraculously the men were obeying. Calen was at the helm, raising the pod off the ground before they’d had a chance to sit and her world lurched and tilted as Gabriel lost his balance and careened into the wall. But he never lost his hold on her, not once, even though she could feel his arms beginning to twitch with strain.
She couldn’t move her own anymore. One hung lifeless over Gabriel’s shoulder, the other in her lap. Warm blood tickled her side as it seeped out of her shoulder wound.
“Sit down, you idiot,” Hailey ordered, “before you both drop and I have to kill you.”
“Hailey!” Calen snapped.
Gabriel growled but stumbled into a seat, clutching her to his chest.
Tristan was nearby. She couldn’t see him but she felt him. Somehow, without any telepathic skills whatsoever, she felt his mind like a low level hum in her head. Whatever he was doing, it had to be taking tremendous energy.
She felt the shift in gravity as they left the planet’s atmosphere. It was a fast ascent, enough that her ears popped, when they shouldn’t. Amelia swallowed compulsively to clear them.
Gabriel nuzzled at her temple and murmured, “You don’t get to die on me, angel, so just put it out of your head right now.”
She smiled against him as she felt the paralysis inch up her legs. The poison was acting too fast. Maybe it was the way it’d been introduced into her system, maybe just some enhanced form of it, maybe her rapid heartbeat and stress were accelerating the process; maybe if she had her microscope and a sample she could study it and calculate exactly how long it would take to kill her. What Amelia could tell from the feel of it was that she didn’t have long. Certainly not long enough to reach a lab and administer an antidote.
Her wound was still bleeding sluggishly. It should have slowed at least.
“Hold on to something,” Calen said. “It won’t be a smooth dock.”
The pod scraped the shuttle hull with a teeth-clenching screech before the mechanism locked into place. A hiss of air signaled a pressure seal engaging and then the door opened.
“Hurry,” a familiar voice said. It couldn’t be who it sounded like.
“But you already know it is.”
You brought Dara? she thought incredulously.
“I’m not letting her or my kids out of my sight again,” Tristan said.
Amelia said nothing. Gabriel lurched to his feet and nearly went down again. She had no idea how he was still able to stand. Strange hands reached for her to pry her away from him and the snarl he emitted was so violently vicious she shuddered. Or would have, if she still could.
“Jesus,” Hailey said with breathless astonishment. Had he shown his fangs? Had his face changed? They already knew he was a shifter like them.
Light. Too bright too fast. Amelia squeezed her eyes shut against it wondering if she would ever be able to open them again. Around her, her friends were talking. Loud, agitated voices snapping at each other. Scared. She recognized their fear, could hear it as easily as Gabriel could probably smell
it. They were terrified and none of them had the training to keep their heads under this kind of pressure.
“It’ll be okay,” she said softly. Not sure if anyone heard her. Her lips were beginning to tingle. “You’ll be fine.”
“You mean you will,” Tristan corrected.
“Shit! She’s still bleeding.”
“There must have been an anticoagulant on the arrowhead. We have to stop it. She can’t afford the blood loss.”
“Put her down here.”
I mean what I said. For the first time, after everything, keeping secrets, creating them, creating creatures that were more human than most of the people she’d met in her life, surrounded by them now Amelia realized how utterly insignificant she really was. All this time she’d thought she had to protect them. They didn’t need her. She’d guided them through the gauntlet and now safely on the other side they were so much stronger. She was the one who needed them.
“Put. Her. Down!”
Gabriel growled. And kept growling.
“Ironic,” Tristan said. “How the tables have turned. I remember being in his place not too long ago.”
“We may need to sedate her,” Hailey said, but Amelia heard her own voice, saying the exact same thing to Tristan, holding a traumatized Dara in his arms.
Unlike Tristan back then, Gabriel didn’t move a muscle. If anything, he hitched her a little higher in his arms, adjusting his hold more securely around her.
“Too little too late,” Tristan growled.
“Will you listen to me?” Hailey snapped. “She needs to be treated, she’s in pain.”
“I can take care of her. Get out.” Gabriel’s voice was inhuman.
“What are you gonna do, lick her wounds?”
That was exactly what he would do.
Amidst the argument from all sides around her, Amelia was baffled by how she could understand every word that was said, as well as carry on a conversation in her head.
You’re judging him? You? When you brought your post-birth telepath mate and, unless I miss my guess, your shape shifter babies to Rome?
Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Page 32
