Fate's Kiss

by Elysabeth Grace

  “You already have answers to your first questions,” she retorted. “Now answer mine. What do you mean by final piece of the puzzle? What puzzle?”

  Satan pressed his palms together and rested his thin fingers against his lips. He stared at her for some time before he answered. “Fate has been assembling the pieces to a puzzle that began with Lilith. When she became human, she altered the natural order of life.”

  “That is a lie,” Anne retorted. “It is you who is to blame. Your rebellion —”

  He sneered and cut her off. “My rebellion may have set things in motion but Lilith betrayed her species. By becoming human, she introduced the supernatural into the world.”

  “You should choose your words carefully when you speak of the Tamahaq.”

  Amusement flashed in his blue eyes. “If I may continue?” Satan didn’t wait for her reply. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to mature, Tamahaq. To become the warrior that Lilith had been and to master your supernatural abilities. I really believe my patience is worthy of your praise.”

  “Not today, Satan. Besides, if I’m the one you’ve wanted all this time, why didn’t you just seize me as a child?”

  A humorless smile formed on her lips and she peered at the seraphim for what seemed an eternity. “How stupid of me to forget your hands are as tied by Fate as are mine. You had no idea what my abilities were. When did you find out?”

  “Your battle with Ishtar revealed your talent shall we say. You’re a shape-changer.”

  Anne didn’t affirm or deny his statement. Instead, she changed the subject. “I’m curious. How do you plan to achieve your lofty goals?”

  “Actually, you took care of one goal with your zeal to free slaves. Lilith’s compassion and love for humankind were traits you inherited and that benefited me to no end. Most of the witches you returned to their native lands ended up in Mephistopheles’ hands.”

  He tapped a finger against his mouth. “I suppose I really should thank you for my growing army of undead.”

  Anne choked back a strangled cry. Her eyes searched Satan’s face, wanting to find the lie in his words.

  “Don’t look so stricken, Tamahaq,” he said consolingly. “You couldn’t have prevented it. Their destiny was set the moment Lilith became human and spawned your kind. Her downfall was her loyalty to my brother, your downfall is your loyalty to Holland’s League.”

  Satan stood and the chair vanished. “Is your life mate on his way?”

  Anne was stunned by the Seraphim’s extraordinary beauty in the fullness of light. She wondered if her guardian angel had dimmed his appearance. Raphael was very handsome but in no way did he compare to Satan, whose face and body were beautifully sculpted, hard lines of pride and ambition. Piercing cobalt eyes stared down at her as if he grasped her fascination. She wondered how a being so beautiful could be this willing to see all life come to an end.

  The Seraphim tapped his foot impatiently and his shoulder length hair came to life. A pristine silver, no other color marred the silken strands. Everything about Satan screamed sensuality incarnate, from his beguiling mouth to his well-groomed beard to the chorded muscles of his bare chest. Her gaze returned to his face and Anne recalled Lilith’s love for the Seraphim.

  Her forehead creased as she noted the slight bewilderment in his expression. Then it dawned on her. “You cannot see into my mind.”

  His silence was a sufficient reply and Anne laughed. “It seems Fate has dealt you a miserable hand after all, Seraphim. Remove the collar and I will answer your questions.”

  Satan’s wings flared before snapping into place. His body grew in size until she felt a choking in her throat. The silence was deadly, only her struggle to breathe intruding on the quiet.

  “You dare bargain with me?” His gaze swept her, disdain and a cruel smile settling on his face. “The collar remains.”

  Anne felt the metal begin to warm against her skin. She sensed the tiny blisters forming, the heat increasing until it became a fire that threatened to sear her flesh.

  “Where is your pity now, Tamahaq? Your compassion? Do you believe that your human emotions can alter your destiny?” He walked over to where Anne sat. “Lilith may have given you her memories but I hold your life and destiny in my hands. Yield.”

  Anne’s mouth tightened and she stared defiantly at Satan. “I am Saria’s descendant and your mortal enemy. The Tamahaq will never bow to you, Seraphim.”

  “We shall see,” Satan said and laughed softly. “We shall see.”

  28

  Gabriel’s stomach cramped and his gut churned violently as he entered the village of Netherscott. Blood hunger clawed at him and his fangs pushed against his gums. Stepping onto the deserted lane that ran through the tiny fishing hamlet and ended at the cliffs, he hurried toward a solitary cottage set back from the rest of the impoverished village nestled along the Devon coastline.

  Night blanketed his movement. He had chosen Netherscott because of its isolation. It also suited his plan to feed quickly and continue on to Plymouth. The coins he’d leave behind would benefit the village. Most of whom were in their beds, exhausted by their efforts to survive. Gabriel walked past one or two houses whose occupants had not extinguished their candles. Despite the intoxicating scent of their blood, he made his way to an isolated cottage set apart from the others.

  He approached the ramshackle stone cottage, stopping when he heard two men’s voices. He tapped lightly on the door before he entered. Both men looked up, their fingers reaching for their fishing knives. It took only a second for him to bring the men under his control.

  The stench of dried fish permeated the cottage. Gabriel grimaced as he took in the bare, cobbled-together furniture in the small room. The part of him touched by Anne’s love pitied the two men and resented the lord whose estate syphoned every penny from the people of Netherscott. The man spent most of his time in London, along with whatever wealth he squeezed from those bound to him.

  Gabriel’s stomach took that moment to remind him why he was in the cottage. He hadn’t fed since leaving Alenesby. If he were going to match swords and wit with Mephistopheles, he needed to satisfy his bloodlust. He watched the steady pulse in the older man’s neck before his fangs dropped and he took the man’s blood. Once the cramping in his belly ceased, he ended his feed and moved the unconscious man to one of two pallets near the fireplace. He performed the same ritual on the man’s son before settling him on the second pallet. As he stepped away, Gabriel was surprised by another surge of compassion for the two men.

  Definitely emotions unbecoming an undead. With a wry chuckle, he placed coins on the dining table and departed.

  * * *

  Dank air stirred around Anne before it stilled. The tiny window that allowed both air and light into the room brightened. She suspected it was just past dawn, although not enough light filtered into the space for her to be certain. Rising from the empty sacks where she’d slept, she groaned. Her muscles ached as she stood and went to use the chamber pot. At least the pot was emptied and cleaned twice daily. She giggled at the idea of demons forced to take care of the waste because Uriel declared he couldn’t bear the combined stench of excrement and unwashed bodies. Her offer to cleanse both her and Maggie if he removed the gold collar was rejected. When the archangel rolled his eyes and asked if she thought him stupid, she gave into a fit of laughter and mocked his fastidious manner.

  Making her way back to her makeshift bed, she sat. Her sleep had been fitful after Satan’s departure. Dreams of a dying Gabriel had tormented her most of the night. She glanced at Maggie’s sleeping form. Light snores and mumbled words poured from the young woman’s mouth. Exhaustion had claimed her and Anne was glad for a reprieve from the fear that kept Maggie huddled against her. A shuffling noise, like slippers on a thick carpet, drew Anne’s gaze to the door. It was closed yet someone had definitely entered the room. She inhaled, allowing the essence of the intruder to coat her tongue. She exhaled, momentarily relieve
d her visitor wasn’t Satan. Her brain couldn’t handle another visit from Satan.

  She took another breath, blowing the air out in short bursts, and cursed softly. “Courtesy is lost among the Fallen. Good morning, Uriel.”

  The archangel remained silent and her irritation deepened. She hated when angels engaged in such games. Did Uriel believe his silence would frighten her into acquiescence? Was he trying to read her thoughts? The space between Anne’s brows crinkled pensively. Satan’s departure had been as abrupt as his entrance once he realized he couldn’t touch her mind. She had been just as astonished. Raphael had slipped in and out of her awareness like a fly through an open window.

  Fate had once again ensured the sides were balanced. That knowledge didn’t stop her from worrying. Uriel was reputed to be the most ruthless, uncaring Fallen angel aside from Satan. During the rebellion, Uriel had slaughtered hundreds before his brother disarmed and wounded him. Oddly enough, she feared him more than she feared Satan. Perhaps because she had seen the Seraphim in his darkest, most vulnerable moment and knew what losing Lilith had cost him. Satan had lost his life mate. Uriel had lost nothing.

  If Satan’s second was in the room, it didn’t bode well. Anne nibbled her bottom lip as she tried to untangle the skeins of her confusion. Since he brought her here, Uriel had inquired about her life mate only once. The Fallen had the means to track Gabriel’s whereabouts. So what could Uriel possibly want to . . . Her breathing hitched and she fought the incipient panic threatening to claim her. Gabriel was in Plymouth.

  Ignoring the sudden burst of pain that shot through her, she reached out to him. Gabriel. Leave, save yourself. She winced, took a breath, and released it. They need both of us.

  A familiar caress brushed her awareness. I’m aware of that, life mate. Where are you being kept?

  A building but I don’t know its exact location, only that we’re being held near one of the docks. It’s not Mephistopheles. Uriel is the one who took me.

  A frisson of anger nipped at her mind as he replied. I am aware of the Fallen one’s involvement. Uriel made certain of that. They should have never taken what belongs to me, and you belong to me Anne Willoughby.

  Joy raced through Anne at the love that pushed the thought into her consciousness. Even so, Demon Gabriel needed a reminder. I’m not a possession, Gabriel Elstone. She reached out to caress his mind. You have this notion that you can claim me and I will obey. I belong to no man.

  Gabriel’s mental snort rang in her ears. Your stubbornness is a welcome challenge, life mate. I look forward to hooding you, my fierce hawk.

  Concern invade her thoughts as he asked, Are you injured? I feel your agony as we speak. Has he harmed you?

  The pain is caused by this collar about my neck.

  His exasperation showed and Anne forced herself to hide her amusement at his next words. Why haven’t you removed it?

  She decided to show him. He flinched and pain shot through her. Um, there might be a few things I haven’t shared with you about me, life mate. I should warn you, never bring gold in any form into my presence.

  And why not?

  Gold is anathema to the Tamahaq.

  Explain.

  The word was projected curtly, on a single breath, and clearly he wasn’t going to be patient. Anne sighed. When Lilith became human, Fate laid several limitations on her use of her gifts. All of Lilith’s descendants are affected by gold. It inhibits our gifts, making them painful to use. When the demon’s pawn attacked me his knife was dipped in gold, which becomes a poison in our blood. Uriel captured me by placing a gold collar around my throat. Even now, just speaking to you this way leaves me in agony.

  She heard what she thought was chanting inside her head. Her discomfort diminished, and for the first time since her capture she was free of pain. She reached out to Gabriel, drawing him into her mind, sharing an image of the last time they were together. The only sensation she felt was love.

  Her eyelids lifted, her lips parting in a smile. What did you do?

  Smugness walked across her awareness with the pride of a lion when he answered. A little trick I use to feed; it eases the fears of my blood donors. The effect is temporary, maybe an hour of relief. We can discuss my abilities and your secrets later.

  Anne felt the weight of a thoughtful silence. Whatever Gabriel was about to tell her, she knew she wasn’t going like it. What is it, Gabriel?

  Cadan and his wife are with me.

  Siya is with you? Where are you?

  He felt Anne’s worry and sought to reassure her. Uriel left an obvious trail and I’m presently in a tavern not too far from the harbor. Your cousin refused to remain at Ashborne. She is as stubborn as you are. Rest Anne, while I locate the building where you’re being held.

  She felt the gentle but determined push as Gabriel withdrew from her mind. She searched for an opening but he was completely closed to her. Uriel’s malicious chuckles echoed in the room before he left. Anne knew the angel felt Gabriel’s presence but hadn’t heard any of their conversation. A sense of satisfaction emanated from where the Fallen had stood. She grasped that his presence in the room had been nothing more than a vicious ploy to incite fear. Since there was nothing she could do, Anne expelled Uriel from her thoughts and curled up beside Maggie.

  “Did you discover where my cousin is being held?”

  Gabriel’s eyes followed Asiya Mortaine, Countess Ashborne, as she paced the best bedchamber in Plymouth’s cleanest tavern. There was no mistaking the bloodline she and Anne shared and he wondered how he missed the evidence of their kinship. They had the same expressive eyes, stubborn jaw, and sensual full mouth. At the moment, Asiya’s eyes were narrowed and her lips pursed. His gaze flicked to the hand laid flat against her hip. Like Anne, Asiya and her dagger were inseparable. What was it about Willoughby women and knives?

  “Tamahaq receive them at birth,” Asiya said. “And yes, you spoke your thoughts. From the age of six, we are trained to use a dagger, which means we’re quite deadly when provoked. Now answer my question, Demon. Do you know where my cousin is being kept?”

  Cadan Mortaine’s laughter earned him a scowl from his wife. “Have you forgotten, husband?”

  “No sweet wife, I still have the scar to remind me,” he said, tugging her into his arms to plant a kiss on her mouth. She relaxed against him, a dreamy look in her eyes and a smile on her lips. Her gaze drifted over to Gabriel’s face and narrowed.

  “Demon?”

  “Yes and no,” Gabriel said, not foolish enough to provoke her with his amusement. “Anne is in one of two warehouses near the docks. The actual building remains unknown since I can’t sense her exact location and my life mate doesn’t know which one. I suspect the witches taken from Holland’s League are also imprisoned in the same building where she is being kept.”

  “How do you plan to remedy that?”

  Cadan reached for his wife’s hand and tenderly stroked it. “What is interfering with your ability to locate Anne, Demon?”

  Instead of answering his friend, Gabriel peered at Asiya. “Why don’t you wear gold, Siya?”

  She stared at him, puzzled by his question. “It is anathema to the Tamahaq.”

  “That’s what Anne said. Does it affect you the same way?”

  “No, only Tamahaq who carry Lilith’s gifts experience the worst effect of gold.” Asiya grimaced at the word. “No Tamahaq can wear or touch the metal without some discomfort but when Anne uses her gifts and there is gold on her body, the pain will be excruciating. Is that what blocks you, Demon?”

  He nodded. “Uriel has placed a gold collar around Anne’s neck. She was in constant pain as we spoke. She can’t free herself or the others without suffering.” Gabriel looked at Cadan. “We need to search both buildings, which of course will expose our hand.”

  “I’m going with you,” Asiya stated.

  “Siya —”

  She narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Do not say another word, Ashborne. Anne is a Willoug
hby and my cousin. The Tamahaq will not sit idly while her kinswoman is threatened. Besides, you will need my weapons.”

  Cadan glanced at Gabriel, who raised his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t get involved in marital spats. This is between you and your wife.”

  He rose from his chair. “What you should know is Anne is the honey to lure the bear. I am the one Mephistopheles wants, or more rightly my allegiance. I suspect Uriel’s involvement means that Satan is aware of Anne’s abilities and he wants to use us to create a new species of supernaturals.”

  Gabriel ran his fingers through his hair. “There is only one flaw in their planning, me. Jonas and I are at the Perch’s Nest. It’s the tavern closest to both buildings. By morning, I’ll know exactly where she’s being held.”

  Gabriel was about to leave when Asiya went to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “When Anne shared with me that you were her life mate, I was afraid for her. She has experienced far too much tragedy in her life. I wanted to curse Fate for mating her to an undead. Don’t be fooled by her fierceness. My cousin’s heart bleeds for others. She will aid them even if it means sacrificing her safety or her life. Once she’s free, take her from England and protect her, Demon.”

  Gabriel kissed the top of Asiya’s head and gently set her from him. “You have my promise, Siya.”

  29

  Gabriel slid the knife from his boot, its silver blade deliberately shrouded in iron. He set the tankard of ale he had been drinking on the only table in the bedchamber. His canines flexed, ready to descend. Sniffing the air, he slowly retracted them. Whoever was in the room was no demon. He rolled his shoulders, loosening some of the tension rooted there, before asking, “Who are you?”

  “My sister is dying.”

  The words came from a shadowed corner of the room. “Step into the light so I can see you,” he instructed.