by Amy Miles
“I am sorry that you feel that way,” Elias says to Sadie, “but without Roseline’s transformation, Lucien would never have been weakened. Without her, he could not be killed.”
“What do you mean?” Gabriel turns on his mentor. His hands shake at his side. He clenches them, struggling not to throttle the angel himself. Knowing Elias, he would probably let him do it too.
“Roseline’s blood is special, just like yours. Both of you were chosen and your destinies were entwined long before you were born. You could not succeed without her and likewise for her. Nothing happens by chance, Gabriel.”
“So Rose had to endure horrible pain to save me?” He spits out the words, disgusted by the way they feel on his tongue.
“To save us all,” Elias amends.
The door at the end of the hall opens to reveal Fane. His direct gaze instantly takes in the tension in the hallway. He approaches with no hint of urgency, but Gabriel doubts that it does not exist. Fane’s love for Rose has always been clear. The pain she has endured must have cut him just as deeply as it does Gabriel, probably deeper since he has seen the state she is in.
“You have obviously heard the news.” Fane’s words are clipped as he turns a disapproving glare onto Sadie. She rolls her eyes. Fane sighs heavily but nods for Nicolae to take her aside. She goes with him peacefully, but not without a few snide comments for Fane’s benefit.
Fane turns on his heel and heads back the way Gabriel and Elias first entered. Apart from a cursory glance at the angel, Fane gives no hint of recognition or curiosity. Perhaps Rose is far worse off than Gabriel initially feared.
When they reach the exterior door, Fane shoves it open and steps out into the blustery cold. The winds claw fiercely against Gabriel’s clothes, whipping his hair into a tangled frenzy. His exposed skin burns as they trudge away from the camp and toward the far tree line.
“Where are we going?” Gabriel shouts against the wind.
“She had to be contained, for everyone’s safety.” Fane motions over his shoulder to follow him. The three men burrow into the heart of the blizzard for nearly ten minutes before Gabriel spies the approaching forest. Once they cross over the threshold, the wind dies down enough for him to lower his hand and take a look around.
Tall pines tower overhead, shielding them from the brunt of the storm. Snow cyclones whip in and around the base of the trees, altering the landscape. The howling of the wind is muffled within the forest, almost eerie in the twilight.
Fane hikes on for another twenty minutes before he comes to a halt at the top of a slight ridge. Gabriel cranes his head back, searching the darkening sky. The sun hangs low in the sky. “Are we here?”
“Yes.” That one word feels loaded with so many emotions that Gabriel feels buried under the weight of them. What will he find on the other side of that crest? How bad is Rose?
Fane turns and looks at Elias, who nods his head in return. Elias steps back, spreading his wings to provide warm golden light in the receding daylight.
“Beyond that rise you will find an ice block shelter. The walls are made of stone, steel and ice. Thick enough to prevent her escape, even if she were lucid enough to try to break free. Roseline will be waiting for you.”
Gabriel takes a step forward but hesitates. Now that he is finally here, only a few steps away, he fears going to her. Will she forgive him for leaving her? For not saving her from Malachi or Lucien?
He can only imagine the horrors that she has endured in his absence. Hanging his head with shame, he knows this is his fault. He could have saved her that night at Bran Castle. She would still be whole, healthy and as lovely as ever if he had, but fate had chosen another path for him.
I will make it up to her, he silently vows.
“Will she know who I am?” he asks, staring at the top of the ridge in the glow of Elias’ wings. He doesn’t look at Fane. Instead, he keeps his focus straight ahead, toward Roseline.
“No,” Fane whispers. Pain is etched deeply into each word. “But she will still want you.”
***
Lucien never liked America. It is too bold, too outspoken, and far too brash for his liking.
He misses the Old World.
Chicago was a waste of time. He spent an entire day sniffing out airports, bus terminals and train stations to discover that Fane and Roseline had never stepped foot in any of them. He should have known that idiot bouncer would lead him astray, but he hadn’t taken the man to be so noble. Lucien gnashes his teeth at his own mistake.
At least I am making the most of it, he chuckles silently, pleased with his impromptu plan change. If he can’t find Fane on his own, Lucien will give him a reason to come to him.
Standing beneath the St. Louis Arch, Lucien struggles to see beyond the tall glass buildings that shield the rest of the city. The river below him is brown and dingy. The glittering lights of the casino across the water are glaringly obnoxious.
In the shadow of the arch, Lucien goes to work arranging the bodies. He knows he has to ramp up the horror if he wants to continue to gain the notice of the world. This should keep reporters talking for a while.
Thirty women sprawl across the Arch grounds. The inner five-point star, made of bodies, converges on an outer circle, creating a pentacle of death. Not a single drop of blood can be found on the iced ground. Each victim was drained of blood through tiny teeth marks all along their arms and legs and then cleaned meticulously before being placed here.
Lucien steps back to admire his work, hardly showing any sign of exertion. Killing this many women in a single night is no small task, but he couldn’t risk unleashing his Eltat on the city. Americans are far too trigger happy for that.
Wiping his hands on his dark cloak, Lucien turns at the sound of approaching footsteps. Sneakers slap against the concrete path. Blond hair appears over the slight elevation of the hill.
Lucien licks his lips with his forked tongue. “Perhaps there is room for one more.”
Twenty-One
The door creaks on its hinges as Gabriel steps through into the pitch black room. There are no windows in the building and much of it has been built into the sloping ground. He can’t help but wonder if this was done to conceal the building or to help naturally soundproof it.
The floor is slick beneath him, and cold vapors rise to tickle his legs. He inches his fingertips along the ice block wall, searching for the light Fane told him would be there. Twenty steps into the darkness his leg slams into the corner of a metal table.
Gabriel grunts, reaching out reflexively when he hears a metal lantern topple. He grasps the cold handle, righting it on the tabletop. Upon further investigation, he discovers a box of matches and lights one up.
He squints as he tries to adjust to the sudden light. A dented red lantern appears before him and he quickly sets to work lighting it. Three matches and a few singed fingers later, the lantern flares to life.
The warm light, spilling over the table and onto the floor, reveals little detail of the room. It is small and square, void of anything but the table and a single chair. An unopened book rests atop the table, its binding still unbroken. Whoever sat here never even touched it.
Fane, he thinks, wondering how many countless hours he waited here. But what would he be waiting for? Surely if Roseline were able to improve on her own, she would have done it by now.
Do immortals need medicine? No. He rubs his forehead, remembering how blood is used to heal all wounds. Then why not just take some blood from William or Nicolae? Surely, they would have offered if it meant helping their friend.
Gabriel sighs, knowing William probably would have put up a fight about that. His acceptance of all things fangy seems to be fragile at the moment, but Nicolae would have. Gabriel had been told when he first arrived how distraught Nicolae was over Roseline’s state. Surely, that must stem from a friendship formed during his absence. So much has happened while he was gone.
Raising the lantern, he searches for a door. Fane told him th
ere is only one. This building is used for one purpose: to hold a prisoner. He is sure Fane never dreamed it would be used for Roseline.
According to Fane, the entire compound had been deeply disturbed when they brought Roseline here. They spoke of the evil foreboding it represented, but Fane chose not to see it that way. He couldn’t let himself, and Gabriel understands why. If Lucien is capable of taking down Roseline, their most fierce and talented warrior, what more could he do to them?
The Senthe are battle-hardened after years on the front lines, fighting to protect the immortal world from the mortal one, but Roseline was to be their leader. Even Fane said he would submit to her. No other immortal has been trained so viciously.
Roseline’s name was spoken in awed whispers when he passed through the base, but no one had told him what to expect within these ice block walls.
His boots crunch on the floor as he moves toward the back of the room. It appears to be a solid block of ice and yet he knows she must be just beyond. He can feel her, even though he can’t explain how. He always has and he prays that he always will.
“Rose?” He runs his fingers along the wall, searching for any sign of a door. He begins at the far left wall and slowly and meticulously working his way right. He is nearly to the end of the wall when his finger catches on a sliver of space.
Backing up, he raises the lantern and struggles to see the entire doorframe. It is there but nearly impossible to see. No doubt a human, or even an immortal casting a cursory glance, would never notice the door’s presence.
He sets the lantern on the floor and runs his finger along the wall until it slips into a tiny opening. He digs in, grunting with effort as the heavy door slowly slides toward him. The space beyond is in total darkness.
Nervous tension courses through his hands, causing them to quake as he lifts the lantern and steps into the room. The light spills over onto the floor, as icy and barren as the outer room. Two metal legs appear as he raises the lantern higher to reveal a drape of white.
“Rose?”
He steps forward, unsure if he should be cautious with his approach. His instincts scream that he is in danger, but his mind wars with that feeling. This is Rose, his Rose. She would never hurt him.
A low growl stops him in his place. It sounds deep and animalistic, unlike anything he has ever heard before. For a second, he fears that he has somehow stumbled onto a grizzly bear, but when he raises the lantern toward the far corner, he realizes he is in far more danger than he imagined.
Roseline crouches against the wall, her nails digging deep into the ice, suspending her nearly four feet off the floor. Her hair is twisted and matted and her face is contorted with rage. Her skin is sickly green and strangely luminescent.
Her once warm and inviting eyes hold a reddish tint now, narrowed and deadly. Her nostrils flare as she cocks her head, bobbing back and forth like a venomous snake.
“Rose,” he gasps. The sight of her makes Gabriel’s blood freeze in his veins. Now he understands Sadie’s anger and Fane’s hopeless tone on the ridge. His Rose is gone. All that remains is a mindless beast.
Dried blood clings to her arms and neck. Her lips peel back to reveal teeth that are decidedly more jagged than normal and utterly lethal.
“What has he done to you?” Gabriel’s legs threaten to buckle beneath him. Never in his wildest nightmares could he have summoned up such a hideous face for his beloved. He doesn’t know how Lucien survived his beheading, or how he managed to poison Rose, but Gabriel will make sure his father pays for this.
He steps closer and Roseline snarls at him, gnashing her teeth. If she had truly been a snake, she would have been coiled and ready to strike. Gabriel shifts another foot forward, more cautious this time. His mind whips through countless scenarios and none of them turn out in his favor. If she attacks him, he won’t be able to harm her. His life would be in her savage hands.
“Do you know me? It’s Gabriel?”
His words seem to fall on deaf ears as she glares back at him. The weight of the lantern in his hand seems to grow heavier by the second, reminding him not only of his dependence on its light, but also how cumbersome it would be if she were to attack.
“You saved my life once, in Sorin’s dungeon. I never got the chance to thank you for that.” He inches his right boot closer, raising the light high enough to hopefully shadow his movements. “You could have let me die, probably should have, but you didn’t.”
His progress is infuriatingly slow toward the center of the room. “Do you remember how I almost hit you in the face with that football at school?” He chuckles softly. “Now I know that there was no way possible that I would have hit you. You probably could have ground that ball into dust right before my very eyes.”
Another tiny step. The slight swing of the lantern makes Roseline curl inward, ready to spring off the wall. Gabriel pauses for a moment.
“I never got to tell you how amazing you looked at my party either. When I opened the door and saw you, I thought I’d trip over my own feet just trying to get next to you. And then you slipped on that darn floor,” he laughs, cautiously. “I knew the instant I had you in my arms that I’d do anything to keep you there.”
Roseline cranes her neck, the low growl subsiding fractionally. Gabriel takes that as a good sign as he prepares to take another step. “The music was loud and my so called friends were all drunk, but you made it all worth it. I knew when I looked at you that I could trust you. I knew you would appreciate my art studio. Do you remember it, Rose? It had orange roses on the table by the window. You said they were your favorite.”
A slight flicker in her eye is the only hint that he might be getting through to her. Gabriel inches forward again. He is now only two feet from the metal table in the center of the room. A twisted white blanket lies atop it, dangling off one side. Four leather straps are piled beneath the table, each snapped cleanly off.
Red bruises mar her wrists and ankles. Gabriel grits his teeth at the knowledge of Fane restraining her. But staring at the woman before him, Gabriel can’t help but understand the need for such actions, even if he is loath to admit it.
“When you ran off, I used to sit up there and draw you. Sometimes it was just your face, or your profile, or even just the way your hair would fall over your shoulder when you were chatting with Sadie in the lunchroom. I clung to those images, sure that I’d lost you forever, but I hadn’t. I found you.”
She shifts, uncurling her fingernails out of the ice slowly. The screech of her nails sends shivers down her spine as he surveys her position and frowns. He has no clue how she is up there. There is nothing to sit on and she’s not holding onto anything. It’s almost like watching a scene right out of a Spider Man movie.
“I promised you I would come back, but that was wrong. I never should have left you in the first place. I promise I will never let anything take me away from you again.”
Roseline’s eyes widen, not fully open but far better than when narrowed. They look less like slits now. Gabriel smiles up at her. “I have loved you since the first day I bumped into you. I never really got the chance to tell you that.”
She sways, but he can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, so he decides to continue. “When all of this is over, I swear we will be together again, like we were meant to be. I never used to believe in destiny. I thought it was a bunch of crap, but then I met you and all of that changed.”
He slowly takes the final step up to the table and presses his fingers into the hard surface. It is cold. She obviously hasn’t laid there in a while.
“I love you, Rose.”
Her ragged breath catches for a split second, but it’s enough. Gabriel smiles, knowing that she heard him. She is slowly beginning to return to him, no longer the beast but his beloved Rose.
“I’m going to set this lantern down now. Is that ok?”
He leans over, letting his right arm stretch toward the floor. The instant he breaks eye contact with her, she atta
cks.
Sharp claws curl into his flesh, digging nearly deep enough to touch bone. Gabriel cries out as the lantern crashes wildly to the floor and the flame flickers out. He is plunged into complete darkness.
Rose screams like a wild animal as she claws her way around to his back, digging her nails into muscle and sinew as she goes. Gabriel grabs for her arms, missing each time by a split second. She is lightning fast.
“Rose, stop!”
She growls and kicks him in the kidneys, nearly toppling them over. He lurches back, throwing them against the wall. The crunch reverberates in his ears as she snarls, wriggling between his back and the wall.
He fights to pin her there, desperate to keep her from doing any more damage to herself or him. “Listen to me. I’m here to help you!”
Roseline swipes her claws across his face, drawing blood. As his scent fills the air, Rose thrashes into a frenzy. Her snarls rise to deafening proportions as she bucks against him, desperate to be free.
Her teeth gnash beside his ear. He reaches back over his shoulder and slams her head back into the wall, stunning her just long enough for him to reposition. “I’m so sorry,” he grunts.
He whips around and latches his hands onto her arms, pressing his knee into her waist to keep her pinned against the wall. “I want to help you~”
“You can’t,” she hisses. “It’s too late.”
“Never.” His grip tightens against her struggles as he desperately tries to figure out a plan. He can’t let her go but he can’t keep her here. Fane doesn’t know what to do with her and if the hunters ever find out just how bad she is, they will want her put down like a rabid dog. He can’t let that happen.
You will face three trials, Gabriel. Elias’ earlier words spoken during their flight to Canada slip through his mind. The first was self-denial. You chose to leave Roseline behind and fulfill your destiny. The second is the sacrifice of flesh. Your journey to Eden to retrieve the Taral fire sword fulfilled this task. The third will be your hardest challenge of all. Redemption.
