“Of course.” She shifted a bit on her chair. Her pregnancy made sitting an occasional discomfort. “Will you return the plates to the table?”
Once he’d performed his task, Gabriel resumed his seat on the cushion. “Why am I here with you, Siya? I came to see Cadan.”
He saw a range of emotions race across her face before sadness filled her amber eyes. Like Anne, Asiya wore her compassionate heart openly. Although only a fool would mistake her compassion for weakness. She was as much Tamahaq as Anne.
“Because I am the only one who can ease your heart, Demon,” she said. “What I share with you I do so despite a promise I made to my tayyawt.”
“Your what?”
Asiya laughed. “You have been so resistant to your destiny, you haven’t learned the language of the Tamahaq. Tayyawt means cousin.” Her mood became serious again. “I assume you know Anne killed her first demon when she was ten.”
“Raphael mentioned it and I learned more from our shared memories,” Gabriel acknowledged.
“Of course,” Asiya said. “I had forgotten how interfering angelic guardians can be.”
An irritated snort echoed in the room before Raphael’s voice sounded. “We are not permitted to interfere, Tamahaq. You know that as well as your cousin. We only advise.”
Asiya’s amusement provoked a chuckle from Gabriel. “Don’t take umbrage, archangel. Your lack of interference has on occasion saved my tayyawt’s life and I shall be eternally grateful.”
Raphael’s approval filled the air and faded. Asiya returned her attention to Gabriel. “From what Anne has told me, archangels can be a bit prickly, and your guardian is excessively so.”
After Gabriel’s laughter died, she continued. “My cousin’s life has been dedicated to ridding the world of demons. In that she resembles our ancestress Amina. With each death, Anne grew more and more conflicted over the lives she’d taken. It didn’t matter whether the life was supernatural or human. Her guilt became an enormous burden yet she continued to wage war on Mephistopheles’ creatures.”
Asiya rose awkwardly from her chair and walked over to the hearth. She stared into the flames. “Neither my mother nor I were on the island when your mother arrived as an enslaved woman. If we were, we would have eased your mother’s passing. Anne is a fierce warrior but she knows nothing about poisons except she nearly lost her father to one.”
She turn to face him again. “Demon, your mother suffered greatly. My tayyawt shared with me her efforts to save your mother. At one point Mirelle’s agony was so extreme she grabbed my cousin’s dagger and reminded her of her oath. Did Anne tell you the demon king attempted to interfere, to prevent Mirelle’s death? It was Mephistopheles’ interference that forced her to act. He intended to make your mother a demon.”
Tears formed in Asiya’s eyes when she saw the mixture of horror and understanding on Gabriel’s face. “The day he sent several demons to claim your mother and life mate, Anne became a dragon and with your mother fled the island. Unable to save Mirelle, the Tamahaq had no choice but to honor her promise to your mother.”
Gabriel stared at Asiya. “Why didn’t she tell me this, Siya? Why did she hide the truth from me for so long? I’m her life mate.”
“Guilt, and, to be honest Demon, you are not a particularly endearing life mate,” Asiya declared. “Although all Tamahaq know angelic prophecy, only one in each generation has a role to play, only one is born with Lilith’s gifts. Anne is that one. I lack the powers she possesses but as her cousin we are linked. She can touch my mind if she needs to do so.”
“Has she reached out to you, Siya?”
Asiya heard the anguish in his voice. “Yes, Demon. The Tamahaq knows you’re at Ashborne Castle.”
“She is safe? Unharmed?”
“She is. I can’t begin to imagine what it means to possess the gifts you and Anne carry. I don’t fully understand the relentless compulsion that drives both you and my cousin. I suspect that is why Fate saw fit to gift Anne and not me.”
Asiya walked over to where Gabriel sat. “I’d sit with you but I doubt if I can rise again.”
He grinned and rose from the cushion. “I really don’t want to face Cadan over swords or pistols if I allow you to do so.”
Taking his hand, she squeezed it. Her fingers released his and reached up to caress his cheek. “Anne loves you Gabriel, more than life itself. You are my life as I am yours. When she said these words to you it was more than a declaration. It is a promise that can never be broken. It is a truth that can never be undone. My cousin will give her life for you and you must do something for her in return.”
Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “What is that?”
“You must help her release the heavy burden of guilt she carries. Not just the guilt associated with the death of your mother, but the guilt she carries for not being able to save her parents. You must forgive Anne, Demon.”
Gabriel wrapped his arms around Asiya. “I have already done so, Siya. It’s myself I have trouble forgiving. I’m not certain I’m worthy of Anne or her love. I’ve fought this bond from the beginning. She has borne the brunt of my anger, my resistance. I’m not sure she’ll forgive me for how much I’ve wronged her with my temper.”
“Fate would not have mated you and my cousin if you weren’t worthy, Demon. Anne needs your protection, despite her belief she can defeat the Fallen on her own. You need her to remind you of your humanity. It is a delicate balance but one you and she can only achieve with each other. Do you love my tayyawt?”
“More than life itself,” he said. “She is my soul and my heart.”
Asiya reached up to pull his head down. She kissed his cheek. “Then go tell her, Demon Gabriel. Repeat the promise to your Tamahaq.”
25
Anne glared at the drunken lecher doubled over at her feet. “I really don’t have time for this stupidity. I have a woman missing and you think to use me?”
The man had come out of the shadows to accost her. She’d been startled, which gave him an initial advantage and extended his life for one more day since there had been no time to draw her dagger. Instead, she shape-changed into a man twice the drunkard’s size. It didn’t take long to leave her attacker bloodied and pleading for his life. When she delivered the blow that put him in his current position and probably incapable of bedding any woman for at least a fortnight, she released the laughter she held.
“You’re fortunate to be alive,” she spat.
“What are you, some kind of demon?” he gasped.
“No and you should be grateful I’m not. If I were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” she said, walking away from him. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Concealed once more by darkness, she shifted back into her body. Leaving nothing to chance, she clothed herself in a pair of trousers, a linen shirt and thick-soled boots. What had possessed her to leave Holland’s League at night as Anne Holland? No wonder the man believed she was an easy piece for the taking. When he grabbed her, she had been tempted to give him the fright of his life but time was more important if she was to find Maggie.
Frustration edged Anne’s voice when she whispered, “Where are you, Maggie?”
The dense night fog mocked her, flinging the words back at her. With an aggrieved sigh, she hurried down the nearly deserted lane leading away from Holland’s League and in the direction of Christ Church. The fog was especially thick this close to the river and marsh. Rot-tainted droplets of mist rolled across her nose. She hated London and what it had brought her. Perhaps it was time to move back to Barbados, or to the Ahaggar Mountains. Her life was a testament to chaos and heartbreak. Her life mate hated her, and rightly so. The courtesans of Holland’s League were being lured away from the brothel and left no traces behind.
At least in Algeria the intricate maze of the Ahaggar caverns promised the witches greater protection. She would look into closing Holland’s League and moving the women to safety once Maggie was safe and among the courtesans. Anne halted as the su
lphuric odor of a demon assaulted her senses and she nearly choked on the foul scent. She gripped her dagger and adjusted her cloak so she’d have freedom of movement.
She sniffed the air. Maggie had passed this way. Hints of her magic lingered in the night air like fleeting ribbons captured by the wind. Traces of Maggie’s magic mingled with the demonic smell. What worried her was whether Maggie was a captive or went willingly because of a demon’s deception. Since arriving at Holland’s League, Maggie rarely left the confines of the brothel. Her fear of demons was as much a prison as the small-minded village she had fled. She had chosen the life of a courtesan although she wasn’t comfortable with men. Fortunately, the clients who most often sought Maggie were women who adored the gentle young woman.
Anne pinched the bridge of her nose. Nothing made sense. For Maggie to leave the safety of Holland’s League, something terrible much have happened. Or someone she knew must have lured her from the brothel. The secrecy of the young courtesan’s departure was also puzzling to Anne. She had imposed a strict rule the women were to inform Bella or one of the three men if they had to leave the brothel for any reason. The women were also never to go unescorted. One of the men was to accompany the women at all times. Maggie had broken every rule. She’d told no one she was leaving. If the stable boy Randall hadn’t seen her slip out of the house and reported her departure to Malcolm, it would have been hours before anyone knew she was missing.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, Anne didn’t hear the light scratching of claws on stone until a stray cat leapt into her path. She stifled a scream and the cat slinked away. She took in a deep breath and held it for a second. Slowly blowing it out, she calmed her jittery nerves and picked up her pace.
She pressed on, following the missing witch’s essence. Each race of supernaturals had a unique scent. Witches smelled of the earth dampened by a light rain, which made it easy for demons to hunt them. Despite the common scent, no witch smelled exactly like another and this distinction made it easier for Anne to track Maggie. As she neared Christ Church, Anne shifted into a dog and trotted quietly across a patch of grass into the churchyard. Maggie’s scent grew stronger when she trotted closer to the church itself.
A stark gray stone building, it held enough nooks and crannies to make the hairs on Anne’s neck stiffen. She paused and sniffed before she returned to her own body. Despite the prickly sensations inching down her spine, she followed the scent as it led her around the side of the church. A second smell mingled with Maggie’s and Anne’s stomach clenched.
Before she could flee, hands grabbed her and she felt a sharp sting whip around her neck. The pain tightened, becoming an invisible noose. Soft gurgling noises rumbled up from her throat before bile pushed itself into her mouth. She swallowed several times before the sensation disappeared. Seconds later, excruciating pain shot through her and she fell to her knees.
Anne struggled to push herself to her feet and failed. Maybe, if she shifted back to the dog’s body she’d be able to free herself. She closed her eyes and began to invoke her ability.
“You might as well cease your efforts,” a bored voice said. “You cannot change your shape.”
She ignored the warning and kept testing until her muscles ached.
“You wear a golden collar, much like the one your king uses on one of his dogs. We both know gold is the bane of Lilith’s descendants, Tamahaq.”
The softly uttered declaration shook her as no other words could. Whoever held her captive knew she was as helpless as if she had been born human. Although she couldn’t hide the faint tremors that shook her, Anne lifted her head and peered at the corner where the voice emanated.
“Only a coward hides in a corner. Afraid to let me see your face before I seek the termination of your wretched life?”
Laughter and a dull gray light filled the space, both pressing on her like a thick blanket. Air caught in her throat, a curious choking sensation that was almost as terrifying as the changing mass of light approaching her. Shadows scurried out its path when the light fell across her. She swallowed her fear and waited.
“So you’re the life mate to Mephistopheles’ offspring and Lilith’s latest descendant.”
Her heart stuttered and then began to race when she took in the face of her captor. She gasped and spoke his name. “Uriel.”
“You recognize me. I’m pleased.” Uriel’s hand moved elegantly through the air and Anne’s body slowly rose and righted itself until she hovered a short distance from him. “Tamahaq, you have been as much trouble to me and my liege as your ancestress Amina.”
“Good, since the sole purpose of my life is to be a thorn to the Fallen,” Anne declared, surprised that there was only a slight tremor in her voice. “Why are you here and what have you done to Maggie?”
“You are a pain in my sire’s arse,” Uriel stated, ignoring her question. “As life mate to Gabriel Elstone you must realize your opposition to our cause poses a small problem. I am here to extend an olive branch and hope you’ll agree to help us win Gabriel’s allegiance. In exchange, I’ll have Mephistopheles call off his hounds and your witches will be safe.”
Anne’s sarcastic laughter echoed in the empty church space. “You’ll need to speak to Demon about his allegiance. As to your promise of safety … forgive me if I’m skeptical.”
Uriel cut the distance between them. His steel-colored gaze studied her face. She flinched when his finger negligently explored her features. Nothing escaped his touch as he traced the outline of her eyebrows, her mouth, her jawline, and her chin. Uriel’s fingers returned to her cheek and caressed it the way a lover would.
“What could Fate possibly be thinking? You are wasted on an undead, Anne Willoughby. Such beauty and spirit belong to an angel.”
He dragged his fingers along her throat and shoulder before his hand dropped away. “Oh well, you and Gabriel are mated for eternity. Did you know Amina was to be Mephistopheles’ queen? Had we succeeded with that match, your abilities would belong to my liege. Instead, your ancestress stubbornly adhered to false prophecy in the hopes of staving off the inevitable.”
“What have you done to Maggie?”
Laughter billowed in the courtyard. “You are truly Amina’s descendant. Always worried about someone else when you should fear for your existence. Come, it is time you learn your place in this new world, Anne Willoughby.”
Anne’s body suddenly jerked forward. She tested her will and found she had none. The Fallen angel was in control. Uriel walked a few steps in front of her. He was headed toward Saint Savior’s Stairs. “Where are you taking me?”
“We are taking a ship to Plymouth and from there we will travel to New York. We will need to make a brief stop at Barbados.”
“Why?”
Uriel stopped and stared at her. His expression as hard as the smooth pale rock of her favorite cave in the Ahaggar. There was no compassion, no humanity in Uriel’s ancient gray eyes. Only a rage unlike any she had seen. It was as if a fire burned out of control yet was wholly contained inside him. She could only imagine the fury that drove Satan.
“Why what?” Uriel said, his look questioning.
“Why did you choose Satan?”
“So human,” he said, shaking his head. “Why? Pride, jealousy, ambition, and whatever sins humans claim we possess and gave to them. Satan and I bonded as children, and I was his sworn Guardian. In this I’m no different from my brother who chose to second Lucifer. I could do no less for Satan.”
“So you blindly followed your master’s decision to wage war by any means possible, whether it cost lives or not. What kind of inhumanity is that?”
Uriel’s laughter filled the narrow space between them. “We’re not human, Tamahaq. And, despite Lilith’s foolishness, neither are you. What is in your blood drives your war on our kind as much as it compels us. Angelic justice and angelic revenge are different words for the same compulsion. Raphael should have taught you that. You are more like me than you know.”
“No, archangel, I’m nothing like you,” Anne countered. “The Fallen treat humankind as a thoughtless experiment to produce weapons of war. Your kind treat them as if they were cattle. Yours to breed when you wish, slaughter when you wish, and sell when you wish. You create fear among them and use that fear to hunt supernaturals. How many witches have you murdered? How many African people have you and your minions captured, enslaved, and murdered? I have committed none of these horrific crimes.”
“But you are the cause, Tamahaq. According to prophecy, in each generation of Lilith’s descendants the birth of a specific female brings us closer to victory. Were you aware at your birth, Lucifer stirred? The only other time he did so was when Lilith died.”
Uriel halted and smiled. “I see by the look on your face Raphael and my brother hadn’t shared that bit of news with you.”
“Which archangel has the misfortune to be kin to you?”
“You weren’t aware Gabriel is my brother?” Uriel’s question was followed a deep-throated cackle. “We are but a year apart. I walked in his shadow far too long but no longer. Humor me, Anne Willoughby, and tell me what angelic prophecy states about Lilith’s descendants?”
Anne briefly toyed with the idea of not answering and then shrugged. “Fate will walk the earth as Tamahaq.”
“I see you were given a rather simplistic version of the prophecy. Were you also told whoever holds the Tamahaq also controls Fate? That bit of truth appears in both prophecies. It is why with every generation we’ve searched out the one Tamahaq born with Lilith’s gifts. You are the first Tamahaq to fall into our hands, and I promise we will do everything in our power to keep you and your life mate.”
“You don’t have him,” she sneered. “He will never give Mephistopheles his allegiance.”
“Oh, but he will.”
“What makes you so certain?”
Uriel’s self-assured laughter rang out as he again started walking. Anne shivered as her unwilling body moved forward in his wake. “I am certain because you are his life mate.”
Fate's Kiss Page 20
