A Vampire's Soul (11 page)

“I
t appears your angel has had his wings clipped,” a harsh, raspy voice said from behind me.

I spun around and saw a figure standing at the edge of the clearing. Dressed in a hooded robe similar to those worn by medieval monks, the figure had pulled the hood forward in order to obscure his face. All that was revealed was a shock of coal-black hair against an unnaturally pale forehead. I stared and said nothing.

“Your angel has had his wings clipped,” the robed figure repeated. The voice was male, but the rough tone made me think the owner had suffered a recent trauma to his vocal cords.

“Who are you?” I asked, making no response to his comment.

“I am the Wraith, and you are in my domain.”

“Bullshit!” I snapped out. “This
domain
is inside my head.”

The hood nodded in agreement. “True, but that does not change the fact that this is still my domain.”

I felt a cold shiver as he came toward me. There was a sense of wrongness to him that I couldn't explain. He was everything Gabriel was not, and being in his presence made me uneasy. I watched as he moved closer, the hem of his robe gliding unnaturally over the ground.

“Did you do that to him?” I demanded, pointing to the feathers scattered over the ground.

The hood shook from side to side. “It is not within my power to punish one such as him.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Tilting his head, he appeared to be staring at me, a move made all the more unnerving as I couldn't see his face. “Do you really not know who I am?”

“Let's assume I don't.” Ordinarily I wouldn't have been so flippant, but whatever was happening here had gone beyond ordinary.

A long sleeve moved in Gabriel's direction. “If he is of the Light . . . then I am of the Dark.”

“Meaning what? You're not capable of such torture?”

“Even one such as I must respect the balance that exists between all living things. An act such as this has . . . consequences.”

Whatever was inside that robe, and I really didn't want to know, I felt it was speaking the truth. “Why are you here?” I asked.

“For the same reason as you.” The huskiness got a little deeper.

“Gabriel has summoned me also. It would seem he has need of us both.”

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but before I could start figuring it out, the Wraith moved past me to stand closer to the tree. “Look, Gabriel,” he rasped, “Here is the one who has answered your call. Let us see if she has the courage to be your Promise.”

For the first time, Gabriel looked at me. He raised his head, and his eyes roamed hungrily over me. As I stared into those blue-gold depths with the thick lashes framing them, I knew with every fiber of my being that this was the only male who would ever claim my heart. That it had always been his. From the beginning of time.

“Tell me . . . do you know what he is?”

I wasn't sure what answer the Wraith was looking for, but I was in no mood to play riddles. I wanted to get Gabriel down from that damn tree. And while the Wraith, or whatever it wanted to call itself, might tell me it wasn't responsible for putting Gabriel up there, I was damn sure it could get him down.

“What do you want from me?” I asked in a voice that could match the coldness of the dark forest beyond the circle.

“I want to know what you are willing to do to save him.”

“Anything.”

“Why?”

“He is everything to me.” I spoke without hesitation.

A laugh came from deep inside the hood, a sound that filled me with terrors I couldn't begin to name. “We shall see . . . we shall see.”

At the edge of the circle, between the stand of misshapen, gnarled trees that stood as silent guardians, pockets of air began to shimmer. At first, I thought it was a hallucination, but as I watched, I saw the air take form, become corporeal until each pocket birthed an animal. They were all predators, natural hunters armed with razor-sharp claws and slashing teeth. But they were bigger and more savage-looking than any animal I had ever seen. It was as if I were seeing the living blueprint of every predatory hunter graced with four legs. I remained as still as I possibly could, even though I was sure every one of them already knew how many strides were needed to reach me. Had one of them been my companion in the forest? I couldn't be sure, and then I knew.

A much larger version of the same black leopard I'd last seen gracing the hood of my car stepped forward into the circle of light. It stared at me with orange eyes, and a savage chorus broke out. The uproar of snarls and growls made me want to cover my ears with my hands. But as I listened, I was able to discern a sense of order amid the chaos of snarls. The great beasts were talking to each other, communicating in a way that was beyond my understanding, but true nevertheless. I watched in fascination as growls were punctuated with flashing teeth and claws. Remaining in constant motion, they continued to circle each other as well as the outer edge of the clearing. And I noticed they kept me in sight. Always.

I had almost forgotten the other figure standing with me until a grating rasp close to my ear reminded me. “Do you know what he is?” the Wraith repeated.

“He is Gabriel,” I said, unsure what answer was required of me.

“Do not try my patience!” The voice was so close, all I would need to do was turn my head slightly and I would be able to see what else went with the pale skin and dark hair. But a voice in my head warned me that some beings were not meant to be seen. “I will not ask again, Rowan—
do you know what he is?”

Why was I not surprised it knew my name? I turned away from the figure and looked at the crucified angel I was in love with. Did I know what he was? No, not truly. I could guess, make wild speculations, but truthfully, I had no name for what I thought he might be.

I shook my head. I wasn't going to play games. Not when Gabriel's life might be in the balance. “No, in truth, I don't know what he is.”

“Then behold one whose fall from grace no longer permits him to walk in its radiance.”

“So . . . he is Fallen?”

I could feel Gabriel looking at me, wanting to apologize for whatever he had done to bring me here. My eyes met his, and I gave him my reassurance that he had nothing to apologize for. Most certainly not for what he was. Not ever. He was the reason I was here. He had always been the reason. If an apology was needed, it would be mine for taking so long to come to him.

“Yes, he is Fallen.” Dropping my eyes, I saw the dark folds of the robe sweep the ground by my feet. The Wraith was now standing next to me. “An angel who turned against his own in a misguided attempt to save humanity,” the voice continued, “and who was, in turn, betrayed by another such as he.”

“Turn against his own? But why would he do such a thing?”

“Why indeed? Why would anyone want to save mankind when it is your nature to be the harbingers of your own destruction.”

I shook my head, confused. He could have been talking to me in Swahili. “I don't understand,” I said with a touch of impatience. “What did he do to deserve this punishment, and who would do this to him?”

“Listen and learn”—the voice became a hiss—“and perhaps you may yet be his salvation.”

A stir of breath blew around the edge of the clearing, and I felt it enter my mind. Powerless to resist, I gave myself over and allowed the voice to consume me.

“At the last Armageddon, the fate of mankind hung in the balance, but it created a division among those who walked in the Light, a division that in turn became a chasm that could not be crossed.” A sleeve was raised, and a long bony finger pointed at Gabriel. “On one side stood the angels who believed that humanity was worth saving; on the other stood those who decreed man was nothing but a pestilence to be eradicated. But in the end what either side believed made no difference.

“By choosing to turn against those who sought to help you, humanity proved it had no worth, and when the great battle began, humans who should have stood with Gabriel and his brothers did not.”

“What happened?” I asked, no longer able to tell if the voice I was hearing was inside my head or not.

“Given the means to capture an angel, they brought him to this long forgotten place, cut off his wings, and left him thus—forgotten by all.”

“But why would they do that?” I didn't care if it thought me weak for the tears that slipped from my eyes.

The robed figure shrugged, its voice filled with contempt. “Because, foolish child, mankind will always seek to destroy what it does not understand. And it allows the seed of suspicion to take root far too easily.”

“But who would tell them how to do such a thing?”

“Even an angel can be deceived by one of his own.”

The touch of fur beneath my palm made my heart lurch in my chest. The huge black leopard, having padded to my side on silent paws, now pressed its head against my thigh. Without thinking, I curled my fingers and scratched the sweet spot behind its ear. A low rumble, emanating from deep inside the animal's chest, reverberated around the clearing, and I could feel the heat of its breath through my clothes.

“Ahhh, you find favor with the lesser beasts,” the Wraith said, noting the animal at my side. “It is good that they approve of you.”

I had the feeling there was something more going on than my being passed over as the main course on tonight's menu. “What will become of him?” I asked, staring at Gabriel.

“Walking a path in the Dark is now his destiny, as well as his choice, and it is a path he must walk alone.”

“This path he has chosen will not be walked as an angel, will it?” The lack of response was confirmation enough. “Will it always be that way for him?”

“That will be for you to decide . . . when the time comes.”

“For me? I don't understand.”

“Gabriel will be given what others who seek the Dark Realm are not—the chance to redeem himself. Should he be successful, he will find his salvation in your hands”—he paused—“should you choose to offer it to him.”

Salvation in my hands? What did that mean? And then my eye fell on a bloody feather lying on the ground. If Gabriel redeemed himself, he would be able to return to his life as a celestial being, provided I played my part, whatever that might be. A shiver ran through me. It was a responsibility I was completely unprepared for, and I could feel threads of panic threatening to overwhelm me.

“Why me?” I asked.

The Wraith made a gesture that could have been a shrug. I told myself it was my imagination. Shrugging was too human a gesture, and I didn't think there was anything remotely human about the creature inhabiting the robe.

“Because you are the one who answered him. The responsibility for his deliverance is yours and yours alone. He has already bound himself to you. Will you do the same? Will you cleave yourself to him for an eternity, if necessary, or will you leave here with no memory of him, save for a shadow in a childish dream? The choice is yours, Rowan.”

Leave Gabriel? The idea was preposterous. I couldn't leave him—I loved him! I had always loved him, even when I didn't know I loved him. There came a sudden howling from the edge of the clearing as several of the great beasts decided to offer me their advice.

“Time is waning, and the lesser beasts grow restless.” There was a warning beneath the words. “Will you give yourself to him, and only him? Become his vessel and the Promise he will seek?”

Without thinking, I turned my head and found myself face-to-face with the Wraith. The dark hair fell across a white face. A face with hollow cheeks and empty sockets where eyes should have been. A face with only a savage slash for a mouth and no nose. Wisps of smoke now curled from beneath the hem and the sleeves of the robe, and I wrinkled my nose as the smell of sulfur tainted the air.

“You already know my answer,” I said, in a voice that revealed nothing about my true feelings. “You knew it the moment I stepped into the light.” The light that Gabriel had sent to guide me to him.

“Yes I know, but”—a skeletal hand waved at the animals surrounding us—“they do not.”

A chorus of howls rose up behind me, reminding me that apparently I wasn't the only one who had an interest in these proceedings.

“Then I will be Gabriel's vessel, and the Promise he will seek.”

A sound like thunder clapped overhead, and the air was filled with the smell of burning wood as the tree holding Gabriel prisoner split in half. Thrown free, he landed on the ground in a tangle of twisted limbs, his hair covering him like a shroud. I started forward, but the leopard at my side let loose a roar that tore the air with its savage purity.

“The choice has been made,” the Wraith said.

Razor-sharp claws flicked up small explosions of earth as the animal moved away from me. Muzzle quivering and ears twitching, it seemed excited as it approached the inert figure lying on the ground. It opened its mouth, and I saw daggers on both the upper and lower jaw. A long pink tongue slipped out between a pair of huge incisors, flicking as it tasted the air. Muscles rippled smoothly beneath a black velvet pelt. The leopard's body held an untold promise of power and speed, and I knew I was looking at death. Deadly in intent, beautiful in delivery.

Turning its massive head, the leopard stared at me, a questioning look in its orange eyes. Was it asking for my approval? For what I had no idea. But it had come to me with one purpose: to make me remember. I nodded slowly, and the leopard turned away. Refocusing on Gabriel, it began to growl low in its chest, and then, with a quickness that defied the eye, it leaped forward and straddled the figure lying defenseless on the ground.