Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) Page 9

The new world seemed less scary in daylight. Deidre lay awake in bed for quite awhile, sorting through the events of the weekend. Her insides quaked, but she breathed deeply to keep calm and focus her mind. She’d felt the same loss of control and fear when first diagnosed as terminal. She’d broken down for weeks, sobbing and refusing to leave her house.

  One day, she stopped. Acceptance came relatively easily when she ceased fighting the idea that she was going to die. She tried to do the same now. Whatever she knew of the world, it no longer pertained to her circumstances. There was an entire subset of reality, and that’s where she landed when she jumped off her building.

  She was alive. She was still in control of herself and her mind. With a little discipline and a whole lot of open-mindedness, she’d figure this out, like she’d figured out how to live with the reality she was at death’s door.

  Gabriel’s door. The concept of Death being humanlike in form, that she was permanently bound to him…

  “Nope. Can’t handle that one yet,” she said, grinding her teeth. “One thing at a time, Deidre.”

  The thought of Gabriel made her panic. Tender one day, chopping off heads the next, Death the third and finally, reluctantly telling her they were bound together forever.

  She had the shittiest luck. No, she wasn’t ready for Gabriel yet, no matter how strongly her body responded to his smallest touch. She did a few more breathing exercises until she felt ready to step outside her room to face the new world. There were clothes in the dresser, not quite her size but not too far off. She took a hot shower in the cramped bathroom off the side of her room then pulled on the clothes.

  The Sanctuary was plain to the point of austere, with no luxuries. Her room was tiny, barely fitting a twin-sized bed and a small, wooden dresser. It was comfortable, like a little cave where she could hide. The sounds of the ocean and the sea breeze lulled her to sleep last night and gently drew her awake before sunrise. She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped into an open-air hallway. She’d seen a handful of nuns yesterday, and only Daniela spoke to her.

  She took three steps away from her cave. Nothing went wrong. It was a good start.

  Deidre walked into one of four courtyards she’d discovered roaming the day before. She couldn’t tell them apart yet and looked around to determine if this courtyard was the one near the medieval cafeteria or not.

  It wasn’t. Deidre went through another courtyard before the scents of breakfast drew her to the correct one. She walked into the dark dining area to see a few others already present: two of the nuns and two normal looking people.

  She didn’t want to know what kind of creatures they might be. She sat near the door and waited. Daniela had told her the kitchens would serve at any time of day. Deidre was seated for a minute before a red-faced nun brought out a tray with a plate heaped with food and a coffee pot with creamer, sugars and mug.

  Cheered by the sight of food, Deidre dug in. She’d barely finished her omelet when the two people from the other table sat across from her. She paused, not at all certain what to do. The man was tall with Oriental features and striking, turquoise eyes. Handsome and lean, he wore slacks and a collared shirt left open at the neck with the long sleeve meticulously rolled in a faux casual style.

  “Keep eating,” he said, glancing up from the laptop he set on the table before him. “It’ll take me a minute to set up.”

  Deidre’s brows furrowed at his no-nonsense tone. The woman beside him was blond, her eyes pale blue. Beautiful and slender, she offered a faint smile. She was more casually dressed in leggings, knee-high boots and a shirt that fell to mid-hip. She wore a glove on one hand that extended to her elbow.

  “He means, we’re in no rush. Enjoy your breakfast,” the woman said. “I’m Ileana. This is Kiki. We’re here to do the interview we do for all new members to the Immortal society.”

  “I’m Deidre,” she replied. “You probably know that though, right?”

  Ileana nodded.

  Deidre nibbled on her food then pushed it aside to drink the coffee. She feared asking what they meant by Immortal society. Half-drunk by the time Rhyn explained things to her the day before, she’d come away from that conversation more baffled than she’d been when she fell out of the sky onto the beach. Gabriel’s matter-of-fact talk of magic and laws older than time hadn’t clarified much, except that he believed she belonged to him.

  The way his touch made her feel, she almost believed it herself.

  “How long have you existed?” Kiki asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “How old are you,” Ileana translated.

  “Twenty six.”

  “You’ve been on the mortal world the whole time?” Kiki appeared doubtful.

  “As far as I know,” Deidre replied.

  “You remember being born here and everything?”

  “I don’t remember being born, but I mean, I grew up in Indiana and moved to Atlanta for college and stayed after I graduated. Pretty sure those are both in the um, mortal … world,” Deidre said. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Yes,” Kiki said.

  “No,” Ileana said at the same time.

  She looked between them. Neither tried to explain their answers.

  “When did the Immortal mating inscription appear?” Kiki asked.

  “You mean the Gabriel tattoo?”

  He nodded.

  “Yesterday morning.”

  “Awww, you’re a baby Immortal mate!” Ileana said, smiling. “Welcome.”

  Deidre poured more coffee. She understood why Daniela kept feeding her brandy the night before. Kiki’s eyes settled on her shaking hands. He met her gaze then closed the laptop.

  “We can wait,” he said, the edge leaving his voice. “It’s not an easy transition. Gods know we almost screwed up the last one beyond repair.”

  “That was out of our control.” A dark look crossed Ileana’s face.

  “We have a more formal process now for transitioning Immortal mates,” Kiki said, as if his explanation was supposed to mean something to her.

  Deidre drew a deep breath with some difficulty. “I have to ask. You’re saying there’s a society of Immortals living in the normal world that no one knows about?”

  “Exactly,” Kiki said. “We’re managed by a council that very poorly oversees Immortal activities in the mortal world and fights demons to keep the underworld dwellers from destroying the human world. We follow the Immortal Code, which dictates our interactions with humans and our obligations within our society.”

  They seemed to be waiting for her reaction.

  “Okay. I appreciate how straight forward you’re being,” Deidre said. “Why am I … stuck in this new reality?”

  “As far as we know, Immortal mates are predetermined. There’s an anomaly in your blood that makes you compatible with our kind.”

  “You have my blood?”

  “Of course. When we identified you, we obtained all your medical records, your credit history, basically your entire life,” Kiki explained. “We created a file on you, so we could monitor and determine whose mate you became, if you did at all.”

  “That sounds like stalking,” Deidre said.

  “It’s necessary, so we can protect you. Only two or three people ever see your file,” Ileana added.

  “You’re ninety eight percent human,” Kiki said.

  “What’s the two percent?” Deidre whispered, afraid to know.

  “Other genetic material. We don’t know. You might have an Immortal bloodline somewhere in your ancestry or a simple mutation.”

  “That makes me special?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you find me years ago, if that’s the case?” she asked.

  They were quiet for a moment. It wasn’t a pensive silence, but more of a silent struggle to determine how much they revealed. They, too, had a secret they were keeping from her.

  “We didn’t know we were looking for you until a couple of months ago,” Ileana sa
id at last. “It’s been a rough year for the Council. Everything almost blew up a few months ago. Immortal doesn’t mean omniscient or anything. We’re closely related to humans, and we share many of the same limitations. We have more of an immunity to dying than normal humans.”

  “Okay.” They were making some sense. Deidre didn’t want to ask about the part that disturbed her the most. She soaked in the information, and something clicked. “I’m supposed to die in three months. Does this mean I won’t now?”

  “That depends,” Kiki said. He said nothing else.

  “What does that depend on?” she prodded.

  “We don’t really know how that will work out,” Ileana said. “By Immortal Code, Death can’t kill you, and neither can any of his dealers.”

  “Because …”

  “Because you’re his mate,” Kiki said. “We don’t really know what will happen.”

  “He can probably take you down to the underworld and you’ll be fine.” Ileana shrugged.

  “Underworld.” The sense of being overwhelmed made Deidre grip the coffee mug hard.

  “The demons have been stalking you for awhile. We think there’s something else going on,” Kiki said. “At the end of the day, you’re Gabe’s, so he can do whatever he wants with you, as long as he follows the Code.”

  “It’s an honor to be an Immortal mate,” Ileana said.

  Panic stirred at the idea of Gabriel dragging her to some freakish underworld. He claimed he was giving her a choice the night before of whether she wanted to be with a sword-wielding maniac. The Immortals before her seemed more convinced she’d fall into her place as his mate. Because somehow, this was normal wherever they were from.

  “Gabriel is Death,” Deidre said the words carefully, slowly.

  “Yep,” Kiki replied.

  “His day job is to kill people.”

  “Exactly and to collect souls of those who have died by other means.”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Ileana said with a smile.

  “How so?”

  “It’s Immortal law. It doesn’t much matter what you want,” Kiki replied.

  Ileana rolled her eyes. “For what it’s worth, Gabe was the most respected and longest serving assassin of Death before he got promoted. He’s fair, honorable, a stickler for the Code, and not someone anyone will mess with.”

  “I could really use some brandy right now,” Deidre propped her forehead on her hand.

  “Forbidden,” Kiki said firmly.

  “There’s no way out of this?”

  “Absolutely none.”

  Unless I’m dead in three months. If only she hadn’t slept with a complete stranger two nights ago. Though, if what they said was true, she was destined for the Immortal society anyway.

  Deidre had the sudden urge to go home. Maybe, if she returned to her apartment, she’d find everything was back to normal. She’d break up with Logan and die in three months. The simple plan never seemed more appealing.

  “I, ah, think I want to go lay down,” she said.

  “We can finish later,” Ileana said with a kind smile. “It gets easier.”

  Deidre nodded, unable to think of a response that didn’t involve crying or fleeing. She left the dining area and returned to her room. Seating herself on the bed, she stared at a wall for a long time before pulling herself out of the trance.

  She really, really wanted to go home! Gabriel’s strange magic tingled in her body, warming her. She twisted to pull her feet onto her bed and choked back a scream.

  In front of the bed, a dark cave had opened in the middle of her room, swallowing the wall where the door had been. It hovered. Beyond its yawning mouth, she saw what looked like yellow doorways glowing. One of them was brighter than the others, as if trying to draw her attention.

  Heart flying, Deidre stood and moved to the end of the bed. She reached out to the cave. The temperature beyond its opening was cold, the air heavy and clammy. She’d felt the weird sensations before …

  Shadow world.

  Daniela said they passed through it on their way to the island.

  Suddenly hopeful, Deidre stepped into the in-between place. The cave closed behind her, startling her. She looked around, not liking the feel of the shadow world. She walked towards the brightest of the glowing doorways and hesitated, unable to see through it. For all she knew, the Grand Canyon was on the other side.

  “Might not be a bad thing,” she murmured. With a deep breath, she stepped through and braced herself to fall.

  She didn’t. The clingy cold of the shadow world disappeared, and she was left standing in the middle of her apartment.

  Relief brought tears to her eyes. She sucked in a steadying breath, praying any sign of the violence from her last visit was gone.

  “No bodies, no blood,” she observed of the living room.

  She walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, cringing. She opened the door and closed it quickly.

  Things hadn’t gone back to normal after all. She wasn’t about to look in the bathtub. Instead, she went to her bedroom, changed into her clothing and packed a bag. She took the money in her emergency stash, grabbed her purse, and left.

  The heavy Southern day reminded her of the Caribbean. Deidre dug through her purse as she walked and pulled out her cell, thrilled to see she had battery power. She could think of one place to go right now.

  She called Wynn.

  “Deidre?” He answered at once.

  Surprised he’d been waiting for her call, she hesitated. After all she’d been through lately, she couldn’t help feeling a little wary. She shook her head. This was the doctor who stuck by her for years after her diagnosis. If anything, she owed him at least the benefit of the doubt.

  “Hi Doc,” she said. “Just calling to uh, say hi, I guess.”

  “Lovely to hear from you, especially today.” He sounded tired. “I quit Friday.”

  “What? You quit working at the hospital?”

  “Emphatically.”

  “Wow.” She smiled, comforted by the familiarity of his unique communication style.

  “Yes, wow.” There was silent laughter in his voice.

  “I’m sorry to hear it, Wynn. You’re the best,” she said. “You’re pretty much all that held me together over the years.”

  “Your expectations of those around you always were too low, Deidre.”

  She laughed, waiting for the light to change so she could cross the street. Her gaze passed over the faces in the crowd across the street. Recognizing one, she looked back, tensing. He was gone, but she almost felt the cold stare of the other man who had been in her apartment.

  “Listen, I was calling to –“

  “Hey, Doc, are you still in Atlanta?” she cut him off.

  “Yes. I plan on moving in a month or so.” There was a pause. “Is everything okay?”

  “No, not really,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage. She started across the street and down the road. “Could I possibly come see you?”

  “Of course. I’ve got one more pad of scripts. I can write up some pain meds.”

  “Oh, no, I’m … well terminal but relatively okay in that area. Just having some other issues.”

  “Ah, Logan. The world of the living tires of the dying.”

  “Sort of.”

  “Come on by. I’ll text you my address.”

  Grateful for somewhere to go, Deidre hung up and waited for his text. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and she glanced around. She didn’t see Jared, but she couldn’t shake the sense he – or someone else – was following her.

  She caught a cab across town and arrived at the swanky suburbs on the south side of the city. Dr. Wynn’s massive home was located along a street lined by manicured lawns and gated homes. The cab dropped her off, and she went to the side entrance to buzz in as Wynn directed in his text.

  He was waiting for her in the
garden, seated at a tea table under an awning. A pitcher of lemonade was on the table. He rose as she approached and kissed her cheek before pulling out the chair for her.

  “You look as eager for tomorrow as I am,” he said.

  Deidre smiled. He’d always had a morbid sense of humor, like hers.

  “Talk to me. You only call when it’s raining.”

  “Gee, thanks! I feel like crap now,” she said. “You first. Tell me what happened that made you walk out on being a doctor.”

  “Life,” he said with a shake of his head. “Got sick of the politics. I used to be able to help people like you.”

  “Poor people?”

  “Underprivileged,” he corrected with a smile. “There are emerging procedures that will help people who need it, but the cost is beyond what any hospital will spend, knowing no one can pay for it. I got fed up and walked.”

  “You’re so good, Doc,” she said, troubled. “I mean, you can still help people like me. You extended my life over three years after the others said I had a few months.”

  “You were an anomaly, like a band-aid. I thought if I had enough band-aids, I’d be able to wait out the politics. There was no one else but you, and I gave up.”

  “I can’t believe that. You always treated me like I was your only patient,” she said. “You have no idea how much of a difference that made to me and probably to the rest of your patients. Even if you couldn’t extend our lives, you brought us comfort.”

  “Perhaps.”

  She hid a smile. He wasn’t convinced.

  “Your turn,” he said. “Oh, and stop calling me Doc. It’s Wynn. Now, talk, Deidre. I see it on your face.”

  She looked away, uncertain what to say. “Logan did break up with me.” Or died. God help me, I have no idea. “Life got real weird, real fast. I, um, don’t even know …”

  “I take it you have no place to stay.” His eyes went to the bag at her feet.

  “That’s a different issue entirely,” she said. “I didn’t come here to throw myself at your feet for a place to stay.”

  “Or did you?” he asked.

  Deidre wasn’t certain what made her so comfortable with Wynn. He was always able to read her, probably because he was the first to tell her she was dying. He was one of the only people she didn’t shut out of her life when she was diagnosed as terminal. He knew her mind better than she did.

  “You never liked him, did you?” she asked.

  “Never. He was a band-aid for you. I figured he’d walk out on you sooner.”

  “Yeah. I guess it was inevitable. There you have it.”

  “Dying didn’t send you scrambling to my door but Logan did?”

  Deidre flushed. “Doc … Wynn …” How did she explain her weekend to someone normal? She rubbed her face. “Later?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Very well.”

  “It’s far too weird.”

  “How weird?” he asked, interest on his face. “Living for three years after a diagnosis of dying in a month weird?”

  “Weirder. Like …” she paused, grappling with some way to explain things. “…realizing everything you know about the world is wrong. Or maybe, incomplete is a better word.”

  “You’ve intrigued me.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

  She groaned, aware of how many questions he could ask when he was interested in something. She’d seen him take out a hospital administrator with pure logic to get his way to run a procedure on her.

  “Please?” she asked, embarrassed to feel tears in her eyes. “Later?”

  “Only because I like you.”

  She rolled her eyes and wiped away the tears.

  “Come inside,” he said. “We could both use a drink, I think.”

  She followed Wynn into his home. She suspected he came from money, and a glance around confirmed it. His collection of antiques was unrivaled and perfectly coordinated, as if he’d meandered through history to hand-pick them.

  Like someone who was immortal.

  She missed a step. Deidre shook her head at the stupid thought. Just because she knew there was a shadow society didn’t mean everyone she ran into was part of it! Wealthy people could afford to choose scarce antiques like his.

  Her gaze caught on a picture of a beach house on the ocean, and she hesitated. She never did call the police about the body she found. She couldn’t shake the feeling she got when she first saw the faceless corpse, that he was Logan. Even though she’d seen Logan in her apartment, before Gabriel chopped him down.

  Deidre shivered, unable to move from the picture. She’d left her favorite clothes at the beach house.

  “What is it, my dear?” Wynn called. He was leaning over the railing overlooking the massive marble foyer.

  “Do you have plans?” she asked.

  “It’s the first Monday after I walked out on my job. I’m open to suggestions.”

  She laughed. “I have one.”

  “Bring your bag up and we’ll go.”

  Comforted by her only remaining normal friend, Deidre followed him to the wing of guest bedrooms, surprised at how huge her room was. She dropped her bag off and joined him in the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, pausing.

  “To the ocean.”

  “I’ll bring a jacket.” He headed down the opposite hallway.

  Deidre waited for him in the lobby. She couldn’t help pacing. Being alone meant she started thinking again, something she didn’t want to do. Wynn trotted down the grand staircase, keys in one hand and jacket in the other. He wore khakis and a short-sleeved shirt.

  The highways were quiet on the Monday mid-morning, and they drove the three hours faster than she was expecting. Wynn was brilliant at small talk, distracting her and making her laugh with his dry, morbid humor. She grew edgy as they passed the town near the bungalow before pulling up the long driveway to the beach house.

  Her palms were sweating at the memories the beach house held. Deidre exited the car and paused.

  “I’ve been patient,” Wynn reminded her as he closed his door. “Where are we and why?”

  “I, uh, rented the place for the weekend then extended it through the week,” she said.

  “Very good taste,” he said, taking in the house. “Why do I have the feeling the place is haunted or something?”

  “You’re probably not far off,” she admitted. “It was a weird weekend. I kinda left in a hurry.”

  Bracing herself, she opened the front door and crossed through the house. Everything was where she left it, down to the candle on the back porch. Her nervousness grew as she looked down the beach. It was daylight, and there were a ton of people around. Wynn was with her.

  Nothing could hurt her.

  She didn’t wait for him but flipped off her sandals and jogged down the beach, towards the abandoned lot nearby. Relief flooded her as she saw the police tape around the area where she’d found the body. Someone else reported it.

  Shaking from more than the chilled ocean breeze, Deidre walked up the beach to the area. No sign of what happened remained. She wasn’t sure what she sought; maybe something that convinced her it wasn’t Logan she saw. She forced herself to breathe deeply and continued towards the distant road. The police had cordoned off the driveway, too, and posted signs around the entrance.

  Reaching the road, she caught sight of something that made her blood run cold again.

  Her car. It was parked in the driveway of the neighboring lot, where she’d seen no lights or activity all weekend. Deidre prayed she was wrong as she approached. She pulled her keys out of her purse and clicked the unlock button, mouth dry as the vehicle’s lights blinked.

  She slowed at the pool of blood on the driver’s side. There was more in the car, covering the driver’s seat and the mat on the floor.

  If Logan’s body was the one she found on the beach, who had been in her apartment?

  “Weird does not describe this.” Wynn’s voice made her jump. He s
tood a few feet away, eyes on the blood. “This is your car.”

  She nodded. He met her gaze, intent but patient.

  “Logan didn’t leave me,” she said slowly. “He uh, kinda died.”

  Nothing surprised Wynn. He moved to stand beside her. He observed the car’s interior with the clinical distance of a scientist.

  “The amount of blood loss and direction and force of the spray looks like his jugular was …”

  She gasped.

  “Sorry. I’d say he died violently.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. Deidre covered her mouth, more confused. Either Gabriel killed him here, or he killed Logan in her apartment.

  “When did this happen?” Wynn asked. He opened the door, studying the interior.

  “Saturday night,” she replied.

  “Not possible. It had to be several days ago.”

  “We got here Thursday afternoon,” she said, confused.

  “Did you see his body?”

  She swallowed hard at the question, panic fluttering through her. At her silence, he straightened to look at her. She nodded.

  “Yesterday, around three in the afternoon.”

  “Was it bloated, or did he look like he was taking a nap?”

  “Bloated.”

  “He’d been dead for at least two days, then, long enough for rigor to set in and the body to start releasing gases,” Wynn said. “Which would fit with this mess.”

  “That’s not possible,” she said. “Wynn, he was with me Friday and Saturday. I saw him yesterday.”

  Wynn studied her.

  “We had sex Friday night! You can’t tell me I didn’t see him!” she cried.

  “Are you sure it was him?”

  No. She wasn’t. She hadn’t been. He’d been distant and moody, obsessed with security, and much better in bed than normal.

  “I take that as a no.” Wynn smiled. “Should we have that talk now?”

  “No,” she said with a groan. “I want to get my stuff and leave.”

  “Very well. I’ll play along. But Deidre, when we get home, you’re telling me what happened.”

  She gazed up at him. He was calm and patient as always, but she wasn’t about to piss off her last friend on the planet. If anyone could handle the truth, Wynn could. She nodded at last. With a look at the car, she trailed him to the beach house. She had no idea what this meant. Gabriel knew the body was there; he had to. He’d been standing by it when she first saw him. But if he hadn’t killed Logan that night, what was he doing hanging around a dead body? If he killed Logan, why come back to the beach at all?

  Worse, who the hell had she slept with Friday night, if not Logan? Who was in her apartment?

  They returned to the beach house. Wynn helped her carry her stuff to his vehicle. She didn’t know what to do about her car, and he didn’t ask. They rode back to Atlanta in silence, hers distraught, his pensive. He carried her things inside without hesitation, lugging everything to her new room. Deidre followed with a second load.

  “Freshen up. We’ll have dinner on the veranda,” he said. “You have any aversion to pasta?”

  She shook her head. He closed the door behind him, and she rubbed her face again. A quick shower later, she joined him in the garden once more in a tank top and jeans. The balmy spring air was warm, even after dusk fell. Her thoughts drifted to the island. It seemed so far away, like a dream.

  Ever the gentleman, Wynn cleared the table and returned with two drinks: warm, spiced wine. Deidre accepted hers but hesitated to drink it.

  “You’re a good friend, Wynn,” she murmured. She pushed herself down in her seat until her head rested on the back of the chair. “What made someone like you take my case?”

  “I enjoy a challenge. The doctor before me said you wouldn’t make it a month. Figured I’d try it.”

  “You really are too good to quit the field,” she said again.

  “Probably,” he agreed. “I prefer to work on my terms. There was a little too much outside interference.”

  Deidre studied him. Wynn was relaxed, sharp gaze on some point in the distance as he sipped his wine. She frowned. She had the same strange sense she did when she first met Gabriel, that he wasn’t fully part of this world.

  “Do you believe there are people in our world who aren’t like us?” she started.

  “You’re talking more than the everyone-is-a-snowflake paradigm?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve seen a lot during my years as a doctor. We are so far from understanding the roadmaps of our DNA. Who’s to say there aren’t genetic variations that lend people to being different?” he asked, shrugging. “Did you meet someone unlike us?”

  “I think so. I, uh, did something really awful Saturday night, and the whole world has gone insane.”

  “You do something bad? You’re too sweet, Deidre.”

  “I had a one night stand,” she admitted. “Logan or …Wynn, if I wasn’t with Logan this weekend …Dammit. One thing at a time.” She pressed the meat of her hands to her eyes to keep from crying again.

  “One night stand? This is awful? I thought you’d admit to killing Logan at least.”

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy by the end of this.” She breathed deeply then told him everything. Almost. One aspect of the weekend she wasn’t ready to accept.

  Wynn was calm. Deidre took some solace from the fact he didn’t laugh or throw her out. He listened intently, swirling and sipping his wine. She’d expected horror or disbelief from him during the hour straight that she poured her heart out to him. When she fell silent, he appeared thoughtful rather than surprised.

  “Well?” she asked tentatively. “If you want me to get a hotel room, I totally understand.”

  He smiled. “No, I don’t. From the first moment I met you, I knew you were meant for something different. I think that special path is what you encountered this weekend.”

  “How could you not handle the politics of the job?” she exclaimed. “I told you the most fantastic tale, and you shrug it off like it’s natural.”

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t handle the politics, just that I didn’t like them,” he replied.

  She snorted. “These could be hallucinations, couldn’t they?”

  “They weren’t hallucinations. Of this, I am fairly certain.”

  “Why?” she eyed him.

  He lifted his eyebrows towards the glass in front of her. “I asked you thrice to share what happened over the weekend. After all we’ve been through together the past few years, you should’ve been an open book.”

  She looked at the wine, realizing she hadn’t touched it.

  “You didn’t drink it, because you have an emotional connection to the person who asked you not to. This wouldn’t be true with a purely psychological phenomenon like a hallucination.” He sipped his wine, eyes on her. “You denied me, despite what I’d call a fairly strong relationship. Which means, what happened between you and this Gabriel was more than a one night stand.”

  Her face flamed. She cleared her throat, staring into the wine glass.

  “Am I right?” he prodded at her silence.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally. “They said …I’m his preordained mate, a bond that can’t be broken. I just met the guy, Wynn. It makes no sense!”

  “By our rules, no. By their rules, yes.”

  “Exactly. I mean, look at this,” she twisted so he could see Gabriel’s name across her shoulders. “To them, it’s permanent like this tattoo.”

  “And to you?”

  She hesitated. “He said the obligation was one way. He had a duty to me but I didn’t have to choose him. He said it’s my decision if I want to be … to be with him.”

  “A noble response,” Wynn said. “By their rules, he doesn’t have to give you the choice, does he?”

  She faced him and slumped. “No.”

  “You have flirted with Death for three years now. He comes to claim you and becomes enamored instead. Wha
t a beautiful story,” Wynn summarized.

  Deidre laughed. “When you put it that way, it is!”

  He was at ease with the bizarre discussion. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or alarmed that he was playing along with her.

  “What will you do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, he killed Logan, Wynn.”

  “I didn’t like Logan anyway.”

  “He didn’t deserve to die,” she said, troubled. “It’s my fault he was killed. I never wanted that for him.”

  “I know how you feel,” Wynn said. “I lost patients before, people who shouldn’t have died. On paper, they had a ninety percent chance of surviving the operation. I performed exactly as I should have, and yet, they died. The unforeseen, Deidre. You could not have predicted Logan would die anymore than I did one of those patients.”

  “I feel so guilty.”

  “So do I. For me, it’s a professional hazard. For you, a freak event. Life is known for those.”

  “My god, Wynn,” she said, studying him. “I know we talked before, but why didn’t we talk like this?”

  He chuckled. “Because now, we are friends. Before, we had a professional relationship. I like you, Deidre. I always have.”

  If she didn’t know better, she would’ve read more into his words. He spoke like Mr. Checkmate, the Immortal that greeted her on the beach and spoke of a history with her when she’d never seen him before. She had a history with Wynn, and he was right. They’d transitioned from doctor-patient to friends this evening.

  “You must be exhausted after your weekend,” he said. “Go rest.”

  She straightened but hesitated. “Wynn, I don’t want to put you in danger. If anything weird happens, please walk or run away or call the police or something.”

  “I don’t fear Death or these Immortals of yours,” he said. “I’ve faced enough in my time to take care of myself.”

  He sounds like an Immortal. She shook her head.

  “I really am tired,” she said, standing. “Thank you so much for taking me in and not throwing me out after what I told you. I’ll see you in the morning.” She squeezed his shoulder and padded into the house.

  “Sleep well, Deidre,” he called after her.

  As she walked up the stairs, she realized that Wynn read her the same way Gabriel had the night they met. Wynn always spoke differently, she reminded herself. His perspective was unique, unlike that of anyone else she’d ever met. His ready acceptance of her weekend, however, left her concerned. He wasn’t curious about the existence of an Immortal society, only about what she intended to do, now that she knew it existed.

  He wasn’t surprised, because he already knew.

  Deidre closed the door to her room and leaned against it, struggling to make sense of everything. She tried hard to convince herself that she was misreading Wynn. Reviewing their day together, she couldn’t find any instance where he’d directly tipped her off. But he was a politician. He buried his meaning in vagueness and niceties.

  He’d called Gabriel noble. The Immortals earlier in the day said the same. Deidre didn’t know what to think about Gabriel, not when he seemed conflicted about her to start off with. Making love to her, wanting her dead, saving her life, walking away.

  He was more confused than she was.

  She changed into pajama boxers. Stretching out on the bed, Deidre was tired but not ready to sleep yet. She stared at the ceiling. Something wasn’t right here. She’d ignored the instinct at her apartment, and that ended in disaster. She didn’t want that to be true of Wynn, who had helped her for years.

  Deidre didn’t know what to do. She paced and rolled her shoulders to free them of tension. Wynn had always taken care of her, yet she’d felt safe at the Sanctuary and safest in Gabriel’s arms. She flung herself onto the bed again, restless and scared.

  She’d found her way here through the shadow world. Could she find her way back to the Sanctuary? What had she done to get to the apartment? Folding her legs beneath her, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “I really, really want to feel safe. Wherever that is, that’s where I want to be,” she said. A stir of warm magic, and she opened her eyes, almost screaming again at the cave yawning open in front of her.

  As before, one of the yellow doors glowed brighter than the others. Scared, Deidre slid on her sandals and walked into the cold, clammy shadow world. She crossed more boldly this time, terrified of seeing the doorway close behind her before she’d made it through another one.

  She entered the balmy Caribbean night. Sand challenged her first couple of steps. She faced the ocean, the moon dangling low and large in the sky before her.

  “You learned to use the portals.” His quiet voice made her turn.

  Gabriel stood a short distance away. He lowered his sword and straightened from a sparring match with Rhyn, whose pewter eyes glowed unnaturally. They regarded her with wary curiosity.

  “Is that what they are?” she asked at the awkward silence.

  “Yeah. They take you wherever you want to go,” Rhyn answered. He pointed, and one appeared where he indicated. “Later, Gabe.”

  Gabriel lifted his chin in response. She watched the cave swallow Rhyn, unsettled by the idea of moving between places via the shadow world. Her gaze lingered. She didn’t want to look at Gabriel, afraid of what she’d see.

  He tossed the sword onto the sand and seated himself on a boulder. From the distance, she felt the bond beckoning her to him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to be the first to speak, she addressed him.

  “Did you kill Logan?”

  “No.”

  “No … what?” She waited.

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Who did?”

  “The demon that took on his form. Shape-shifting demons.”

  “Oh, god,” she said, shuddering. “You mean …I slept with a demon?”

  “Yeah.” There was a note of familiar anger in his voice.

  Her insides were shaking again. He’d calmed her with a simple touch last night and quenched her body two nights ago. She crossed her arms and walked towards him, stopping close enough for him to reach her, if he wanted to. He didn’t try. Seated, his face was at her level, the dark eyes on her. Moonlight played across his chiseled features. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. The t-shirt he wore was tight around large biceps and snug across his muscular shoulders and thick chest. She’d run her hands over his perfect body, marveling at the smooth skin stretched over solid muscle.

  “You’re Death,” she said quietly.

  “I am.”

  His heat and scent were starting to mess with her at such a distance. Her stomach fluttered, her heartbeat fast. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze at last. She’d imagined staring down Death before, but she never guessed it would be anything like this. Which did she fear more: Death or the man behind the mask? She was compelled towards both, one by emotion and the other by fate.

  “The Logan I saw in my apartment was a… a demon,” she managed.

  “Yes.”

  “They ate someone,” she said, eyes watering. “I saw what was left.”

  “That’s what demons do.” He was cool, distant, impossible to read. His tone was matter-of-fact, his answers short. The comfort he’d offered her before was gone.

  “It’s been a rough few days,” she murmured.

  “For both of us.”

  “You were really unhappy about…” she turned and patted the tattoo on her back. “…weren’t you?”

  “It was unexpected.”

  “Unexpected,” she repeated, face warm. She didn’t know why it bothered her. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

  “I almost did. Twice.”

  She fought back the urge to run. “We might have a trust issue.”

  He was shutting her out. It was like their talk on the beach the other night never happened. She was surprised to find it bothered her. She felt
very alone, exposed, standing before him. He held her gaze, and she had the sense that he was looking beyond her, to her soul, examining it as only Death could.

  “We do,” he agreed quietly.

  With a trembling hand, Deidre reached out to him, taking one of his. The warm energy crept across her skin and into her blood. She swallowed hard and looked into his dark eyes again.

  “Will you…” She wasn’t sure how to ask for what she wanted, the comfort only he seemed to be able to give her.

  Gabriel responded. His hand slid up to her elbow, and he drew her into him, until his warmth and scent enveloped her. Deidre wrapped her arms around his neck while his went securely around her body. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Her body ceased shaking, and her confusion faded, replaced by the hum of the bond between them.

  “I asked the portals to bring me somewhere safe,” she whispered.

  “Maybe they weren’t paying attention.”

  She lifted her head to look at him, unable to tell if he meant it as a joke and ready to bolt if not. His grip around her tightened at the tension in her body. Gabriel winked, the only indication she didn’t need to run.

  “Is this a decision or a moment?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll make it easier. Do you want me to make love to you or hug you?”

  Her face grew hot fast. Her blood was flying with desire. She wanted both, but she wasn’t ready for what she suspected one meant. Ducking her head, she buried her face in the nape of his neck again.

  “A moment,” he said, amused. “You weren’t so shy the other night.”

  “Oh, god,” she said in embarrassment. “You weren’t exactly forthcoming about who you are.”

  “What happened to Death letting you see the stars and moon instead of how dark the night is?”

  “I must’ve sounded like a fool to you.”

  “No.” His voice was low. “You made me want to see the world the way you do.”

  “That’s why you stayed with me,” she murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  “You must have commitment issues. One night is okay. A lifetime?” she joked. “You flipped out when you realized you were shackled to me and tried not to kill me the next time we met.”

  “I’m not the one who swan-dived off a fucking building to get away from my mate.”

  She almost smiled. “I was scared.”

  “You weren’t afraid of me when you went to bed with me. I’m the same person now as I was two days ago.”

  “A lot has changed. It’s not normal to wake up and deal with all this,” she said. “I feel like I’m missing something. Daniela knew me and there was a man on the beach when we landed. Said he’d waited a long time to tell me something.”

  “What was it?”

  “Checkmate.”

  Gabriel laughed quietly.

  “That means something to you, doesn’t it?” she asked, puzzled.

  He didn’t answer.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  “When you make a decision,” he said.

  It was her turn to be quiet. She closed her eyes, at ease in the arms of the man who scared her any other time.

  “Even Wynn,” she murmured. “It’s like people know me somehow, even though I never met them.”

  “Wynn. Unusual name.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “The kind of good friend I need to pay a special visit to?”

  Deidre gasped. She hadn’t noticed Gabriel tense but did now. Looking at him once more, she shook her head. “You shouldn’t make those kinds of jokes.”

  “It’s not a joke.”

  She saw the gravity on his face. Alarmed, she recalled what it was about him that terrified her. Deidre moved away from his touch, upset she’d let the moonlight trick her into forgetting how dangerous he was. Gabriel rose without speaking. Deidre watched him retrieve his sword and replace it in its sheath.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked.

  “Gotta drop someone a visit.”

  “Gabriel,” she said, taking his arm with both her hands. “He’s the reason I’m alive. He was my surgeon.” She searched his gaze. “You can’t hurt him!”

  “Deidre.” He worked her grip loose gently. “Stop.”

  “No!” She was panicking. “It’s my fault Logan is dead! You can’t take Wynn!”

  Gabriel gripped her arms. “Deidre –“

  “My decision is yes!” she cried. “I’ll stay with you, as long as you want, if you just …please, Gabriel, don’t hurt him. Please.”

  Gabriel released her. His jaw was ticking. Insides shaky again, Deidre waited breathlessly, tears on her face. She couldn’t … couldn’t bear the thought of another friend dying because of her! Logan didn’t deserve to be killed by a demon; Wynn didn’t deserve to die because Gabriel didn’t want anyone else around her.

  “I can’t let you do that,” he said at last, his gravelly voice tight. He turned and strode away, disappearing into the shadow world.

  Deidre watched him go, horrified at what she’d done. She frantically tried to call a portal. The magic didn’t come this time. Pacing, she tried to calm herself, as she had been both times the portal did work for her. She forced herself to sit on the ground, to focus, to wish with all her heart to go back to Wynn.

  It didn’t work.

  She’d just killed Wynn.

  She slumped and began crying for her friend.

  “Deidre, come in for dinner.” Daniela’s dark form called from the road.

  “I’m not hungry,” Deidre managed. “I’m just gonna sit here and wait for the ocean drown me.”

  “Always drama with Immortal mates.” Daniela’s sigh was exasperated. “For my sake, come in.”

  Deidre didn’t want to move. Daniela hefted her to her feet. Deidre went obediently with her towards the fortress, numb and nauseous. She’d rather fall asleep crying in her bed than on the beach.

  I’m so sorry, Wynn.

  Chapter Eight