Shadows on the Soul
Page 28
What are you doing? Jez cried.
He had no idea. And he didn’t care. He was drawing Jezebel out of the mist, and that was all that mattered.
The almost-pain became a little sharper, a little more like real pain. Gabriel embraced it, moving faster, dragging Jez despite her protests.
The pain grew sharper still, a stinging, burning sensation in his cheek. He hurried toward it. Another slap, harder, rattling his head, jarring his teeth.
And suddenly, Gabriel was back in his body, lying on his back on a soft bed, Eli hovering over him, holding the front of his shirt so tight the collar was practically choking him. Eli pulled back his hand, and Gabriel finally understood the source of the pain in his face.
“Stop it, old man!” he protested. “I’m back!”
Eli’s hand dropped, and he let go of Gabriel’s shirt, sighing in evident relief. Gabriel wondered briefly why the man who was soon to kill him should feel relieved to have him back. Then he turned to look at the bed beside him.
Blood spotted the coverlet and pillow and stained Jezebel’s lips. Her eyes were still closed, but the color had returned to her cheeks. She ran her tongue over her lips, drinking in the last drops of his blood, then turned on her side and snuggled against him, sighing contentedly.
Jezebel? he asked uncertainly.
Mmm?
Are you with me?
Her eyes fluttered open. Never in his life had he felt so close to weeping. She gave him a mournful, reproachful look, then her eyes drifted closed again.
“Tired,” she murmured out loud.
“Then sleep,” he responded, stroking her hair as his eyes burned and his throat ached.
Eli’s hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing lightly in a gesture that seemed almost fatherly.
“You did it,” Eli said. He sounded amazed.
Gabriel nodded, unable to trust his voice. He’d brought her back, all right. But something very definitely wasn’t right. He felt strangely hollow inside, like somehow he wasn’t all there. He sighed. What did it matter when Eli was going to kill him anyway?
What would happen to Jezebel when he was gone? With her fiery temper, he doubted she could ever forgive Eli for killing him. And she was too young a fledgling to survive on her own. He hated to bring her back from the mysterious misty place only to abandon her. But there was no choice. It wasn’t like he could defeat Eli in combat, even if he were at full strength.
Eli’s hand slid away from his shoulder, and Gabriel took a deep, steadying breath. Better to get this over with before Jez awakened again. Moving gently and carefully so as not to wake her, he slid away from her and tucked the covers under her chin once more. Then he bent and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
When he stood up and turned around, the sword was back in Eli’s hand, and his face was the impassive mask Gabriel had learned to hate over the years. Gabriel held his head high and glared at his father.
“Can we at least move out of her room to do this?” he hissed. The last thing he wanted was for her to awaken and see his head parted from his shoulders.
Eli gestured toward the door. Gabriel strode through, hoping he wouldn’t lose his courage before this was over. When he heard the door to Jez’s room close, he turned around and faced his father. He certainly didn’t want to give Eli the chance to behead him without looking him straight in the face while he did it!
Eli ran a finger along the edge of his blade, drawing a line of blood over his skin. “This is the real sword,” he said. “Not an illusion.”
“Why the hell should I care?” Gabriel growled in response. When he’d first come here, thinking Jezebel was lost to him for good, he’d felt no fear whatsoever at the thought of his own death. Now, when he had something to live for after all, he found he wasn’t quite as resigned to his fate as he’d once been.
Eli shifted his grip on the sword, his hand on the blade while he held the hilt out to Gabriel.
“Because you can kill me with it,” he said.
Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “What?”
One corner of Eli’s mouth twitched upward. “Which word didn’t you understand? Take the sword. I wasn’t able to kill you two hundred years ago when I thought you were a heartless, soulless Killer. How can I possibly kill you now when I know you are not?”
Gabriel blinked and shook his head. “You can choose not to kill me without handing me the sword.”
“True. But that’s not what I’m doing. Take the sword, my son.”
Warily, Gabriel reached out and took the sword. The hilt felt real and solid in his hand. He hefted the blade experimentally, getting the feel of its balance. He’d rarely used weapons in his life, his glamour being all the weapon he needed, but he was not completely unfamiliar with them either.
“The sword is real,” Eli said again. “And I will make no effort to defend myself.” He met Gabriel’s gaze steadily. “You know I’m not lying to you.”
Gabriel nodded. For all Eli’s faults, he was not a liar. He could be secretive and deceptive as hell, but for whatever reason, he refused to tell an outright lie.
Here was an unprecedented opportunity, a chance to vent five centuries’ worth of wrath. Just a few weeks ago, Gabriel would have separated Eli’s head from his neck without a second thought. Now, he stood hesitating.
Where was the hate, the rage that had fueled him for so very long? He tried to call on it, but he couldn’t even find it. And then he thought about Jezebel. What would she think of him if he killed Eli when Eli had spared him?
He lowered the sword, hardly believing how much knowing Jezebel had changed him. Hardly believing how many deep, ancient wounds she’d somehow managed to heal. He stared at the floor, trying to absorb it all, as Eli took the sword from his unresisting fingers.
When he raised his head to face Eli again, Eli’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“What?” Gabriel asked, looking over his shoulder in case there was something or someone behind him.
“The scar,” Eli said.
Gabriel raised his hand to his scarred cheek … and found the skin smooth and unmarred. What the … ? He checked his other cheek, just in case he was so out of it he’d forgotten which was the scarred one, but of course he hadn’t.
“Is it really gone?” he asked, hardly daring to believe.
“So it would seem.”
“But how is that possible?”
Eli shrugged. “How was it possible for you to scar in the first place? I can’t say I know, but I can venture a guess.”
Gabriel gestured for him to continue.
“My guess is it was the vampire equivalent of a psychosomatic illness. The mind is an amazing instrument, even in a mortal. In a vampire who is capable of glamour …”
“Yeah,” Gabriel agreed. It was as good an explanation as any. He reached up to his cheek again, just to be sure, but the line of scar tissue was most definitely gone.
Eli smiled at him. “Why don’t you go sit with Jezebel? I suspect she’ll want you by her side when she wakes again.”
And that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Epilogue
JEZ WAS STILL WEAK and shaky after her ordeal, but she was as eager as Gabriel to get back to Baltimore, to home. Some of it was homesickness, a homesickness she hadn’t even realized she’d been feeling, but some of it was sheer practicality. Eli and Gabriel were temporarily at peace with each other, but she suspected the peace would be easier to keep if they had at least a hundred miles between them.
Gabriel insisted on carrying her to the rental car, though they both knew she was capable of walking. She decided not to argue with him too much. It was kind of fun to have Gabriel in all his bad-guy glory fussing over her like she was a three-year-old.
They made one stop before heading out of town. When they parked in front of Drake’s brownstone, Jez decided to put her foot down—literally—and walk the few steps from the car to the door. Gabriel gave her a darkly disapproving look, but there was no missi
ng the affection in his eyes.
Drake looked distinctly wary when he let them in. Jez smiled at him, even as Gabriel ushered her immediately into a chair as if being on her feet for more than sixty seconds at a time would break her. She would have to have a word with him about that soon. But not yet.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Drake asked.
Neither he nor Gabriel sat. Jez hoped they weren’t about to get into some kind of pissing match over Drake aiding her in her quest to save Gabriel’s life.
“Jez and I are going back to Baltimore,” Gabriel said, though of course Drake knew that already.
“So I’d heard.”
Gabriel hesitated, and Jez smiled. He wasn’t used to relating to others as equals, and for a man who usually exuded confidence, he was looking mighty uncomfortable.
“We’ve been talking about what to do with the rest of our lives,” Jez said for him.
Drake raised an eyebrow and looked at Gabriel. “And that involves something other than creating a flock of fledglings and becoming the Master of Baltimore?”
Gabriel was still capable of a world-class sneer, which he demonstrated now. “I’ve been Master of Baltimore for months. I don’t need an entourage.”
“Gabriel …” Jez said warningly.
He held himself a little taller and straighter. “Well, I don’t!”
That might not be true, however. They hadn’t had much time or opportunity to test it out, but it seemed like the effort he’d made to draw Jez back into her body had cost him something. His glamour seemed a tad erratic, not always there at his call, and didn’t have as much oomph as it used to.
Apparently, Gabriel’s attitude problem was going to make this conversation less than productive—if Jez let him do the talking.
“We’re thinking about starting up our own branch of the Guardians in Baltimore,” she blurted, trying not to laugh at the sudden tick in Gabriel’s jaw. He wasn’t a hundred percent comfortable with the idea yet, but he didn’t contradict her.
“I see,” Drake said, but it was impossible to miss his skepticism.
“You don’t think a Killer can be a Guardian?” Jez challenged, before Gabriel could get his back up.
Drake winced. “Touche.”
“I don’t suppose my methods will exactly match Eli’s,” Gabriel said dryly, and they all laughed a bit at that. “But I’m through condoning what I know is wrong. I’m going to take a page from your book and try to make the best of my situation.” He made a sour face, and it was all Jez could do to stifle another giggle at his expense.
“I see,” Drake said again, with less skepticism this time. “But why are you telling me this?”
Jez had the feeling Drake had a good guess already, but Gabriel spelled it out for him.
“Because I’m inviting you to join us,” he said. “You and I both know that the Guardians will never fully accept you. In my version of the Guardians, you would be an equal partner.” Gabriel grinned. “Well, not equal exactly, but you wouldn’t be the red-headed stepchild, as it were.”
Drake’s expression was tight and unhappy.
“With Eli’s new powers,” Jez added, “the Guardians won’t be so desperately in need of your strength. Gabriel and I probably will be.”
After all, Brigitte and Henri were still out there somewhere. Brigitte would not be happy that her plot to remove Jez as an obstacle had failed. Jez doubted she would give up on her quest to make Gabriel her ally, and she didn’t think her methods were going to get any friendlier.
Drake moved over to a chair and sat down, his eyes troubled. “I’ve worked for Eli for more than a century. And Philadelphia is my home.”
“But things have changed,” Gabriel pointed out brutally. “I may have reconciled with my father, but we still both know he is not the saint that you and the rest of the Guardians wanted him to be.”
Drake laughed without humor. “And you’re an improvement?”
Jez held her breath, but Gabriel didn’t have a temper tantrum. “I don’t have a long history of deceiving you. And I won’t treat you like a second-class citizen because you’re a Killer.”
“I’ll think about it,” Drake said.
Jez suspected that he meant “no.” But she and Gabriel had agreed in advance that they wouldn’t push.
Gabriel grabbed a newspaper that was sitting on a side table, scribbling his phone number in the margins. “If you decide you want to join us, give me a call. The offer is open-ended.”
Drake nodded, but didn’t answer. He stood up and reached out his hand for Gabriel to shake.
“Good luck to you,” he said.
Gabriel smiled crookedly as they shook hands. “Thanks. And the same to you.”
“You’ll take good care of Jezebel, I’m sure.”
Jez rolled her eyes. “Oh, puh-lease! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”
Gabriel looked at her and arched a brow. “Care to arm wrestle, my sweet?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed.
Hardly appropriate behavior for a subordinate, he said in her head.
Subordinate? Who said I was subordinate?
His grin was wicked in the extreme. It seems I’ll need to teach you a lesson.
Jez giggled, visualizing him bending her over his knee.
He groaned, although she felt the hint of lust the image evoked. “Not that again!” he complained out loud.
“What?” Drake asked.
Gabriel’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. “Nothing,” he muttered.
Amusement sparkled in Drake’s eyes. “Jezebel, if you can make a bad-ass like him blush then you must be just the right woman for him.”
“I’m not blushing!” Gabriel protested as his cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of pink.
“Yes, dear,” Jez said. “Now let’s hit the road, shall we?”
He sighed dramatically and scooped her back into his arms.
Why do I have a feeling this is going to be a very, very long road trip? he asked.
I have no idea! She batted her eyelashes at him innocently.
From the look he gave her then, she gathered he was going to drive like a race car driver with the finish line in sight. But she had her own ideas on how to shorten the wait. After all, that’s what rest areas were for!
TOR PARANORMAL ROMANCE BOOKS BY JENNA BLACK
Watchers in the Night
Secrets in the Shadows
Shadows on the Soul
PRAISE FOR JENNA BLACK AND WATCHERS IN THE NIGHT, THE FIRST BOOK OF THE GUARDIANS OF THE NIGHT
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