Rage and Redemption (Rebel Angels) (13 page)

The wind blew her hair all around her and Naomi felt as tousled as the strands. “What if I’m not strong enough to lead him? What if he leads me instead?”

“I’ll not let it go that far. If you begin to succumb to his darkness, I’ll pull you back. I love Gideon, but I’ll not lose you both. If he doesn’t respond to the light within you, then Gideon will Fall.”

Naomi spent the rest of the day researching angels in the order’s extensive library. The Holy Scriptures contained very few details about the Fall of Lucifer, but the number and variety of activities attributed to angels surprised Naomi. From wrestling with Jacob all night and dislocating his hip, to annihilating
Sodom
and Gomorra, angels were certainly said to have done more than deliver messages.

Gideon would have had ample opportunity to spill the blood of men in his role as an angel.

She stopped by the dormitory on her way to the scriptorium and found three secular outfits neatly folded on her bed. Doubtlessly the clothing Brother Aaron had mentioned. It wouldn’t do to have her meet a nobleman looking like a pauper. She exchanged her plain brown tunic for an ensemble of vivid blue wool. Even the undergarments were soft, much finer than hers. Making a mental note to thank Brother Aaron for his generosity, Naomi continued her trek toward the scriptorium.

Her mind was so occupied with everything she had learned in the library that she didn’t immediately notice Gideon lounging on the stone steps leading up to her workroom.

His mouth parted in a beckoning smile and he whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

With the predatory grace that accompanied all of his movements, Gideon stood and casually blocked the stairwell. The supple material of her garment molded to the fullness of her breasts, silently inviting his gaze and his touch. “Where have you been? I missed you.”

She cocked her head and laughed softly. “Did you now? What did you miss? My charming wit, my challenging intellect or the fact that I have no intention of succumbing to your practiced seduction?”

“My seduction is not nearly as practiced as you presume.”

“You just have a natural aptitude for such activities?”

“Nay.” He hesitated. The truth would make her angry but perhaps it was safer for them both if that soft, approachable warmth left her eyes. “Seduction has seldom been necessary before.”

Sure enough, anger flared within her gaze. “How foolish of me. Women must trample each other to share your bed.”

“Oh, I seldom bother with a bed.”

He watched those enticing breasts rise and fall as she indulged in a deep sigh. “What do you want?”

“I want to see if your breasts taste as delightful as…” His words dissolved into laughter as she turned around and hurried away.

Her gait was a bit uneven. Her ankle must still pain her. “I was only being honest,” he defended, falling into step beside her.

“You were being outrageous. You enjoy being outrageous.”

“I enjoy many things.”

“None of which interest me.” She stopped and faced him. “Do you intend to follow me back to the dormitory? Men are not allowed within so it’s a waste of time.”

“I have all the time in the world.” A pang of some unnamed emotion responded to the boast.

“Are you certain of that?”

Her velvety gaze moved over his face and Gideon bristled. He didn’t want her pity. How much had Gabriel told her? Why would she look upon him with anything but fear or desire? “Walk with me.”

“Why?”

“Because the scriptorium is hot and you don’t really want to hide within the dormitory.”

She finally smiled. “Hiding from you is the wisest course. I’ve known from the first moment I saw you that I couldn’t trust you. I find I can’t even trust myself where you’re concerned.”

Why would she admit this to him? Did she not realize the power it gave him?

“You know my body responds to you. So what point is there in pretending?”

Stepping toward her, he asked, “What point is there in resisting?”

Her hand came to rest in the middle of his chest, holding him back. “I mean nothing to you. I’ll not lie with a man who has no feelings beyond desire.”

He shrugged off her hand, not understanding how she’d turned the situation around. She ran, he pursued. That’s how the game was played.

“If I walk with you, will you answer my questions?”

“If I answer your questions, will you let me touch you?” he countered.

“Perhaps,” she said, shocking him. “We both know I enjoy your touch.”

Heated desire tore through him and he felt his fangs distend. The little minx. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy the game. She was supposed to struggle and resist.

“There’s something I wish to show you,” she said softly. “Will you agree to behave if we go to the scriptorium?”

“I’d be pleased to see anything you’re willing to show me.”

He couldn’t read her expression as they retraced their footsteps. She learned quickly and she was not nearly as helpless as he had first supposed. Or perhaps he was just less dangerous. That thought disturbed him greatly.

“Where did you pass the day? Gabriel didn’t know or wouldn’t tell me,” he said.

Her musical laughter floated around him like the warmth of a summer breeze. “Gabriel was in the chapel when I left the scriptorium so he wasn’t hiding my location.”

“Which was?” he asked impatiently.

“Most recently the dormitory. Brother Aaron didn’t want me appearing before the Frenchman looking like a beggar so he persuaded Sister Renee to donate her clothing to me.”

“Thus the new gown.” Her cheeks blossomed with color and Gideon smiled. Was she pleased that he had noticed or embarrassed? “It’s most fetching. Though I find myself quite envious of the material.” She was definitely embarrassed now.

They reached the top of the curved stone steps and Naomi paused. “Do you always say exactly what you please?”

“Aye. I find no reason to do otherwise.”

“Tact and politeness?” She made the suggestion with just a hint of challenge in her smile.

“Boring concepts created by hypocritical old men.”

She laughed again and his whole body clenched. Did she not realize how she stirred his hunger? Nay, how could she? She didn’t know what he was, unless Gabriel told her—and that was unlikely.

“So did my brother finally admit that he is an angel?” he asked casually, but what he really wanted to know was how much Gabriel had told her about him.

“Aye. Is it physically impossible for him to lie?”

She was struggling to light an oil lamp so Gideon waved his hand and the wick ignited. Gasping, she took a quick step back then looked at him.

“Angels can speak only truth.” He lit two additional lamps before he asked, “What did he tell you about me?”

“A mere fragment of what there is to know, I suspect.”

She moved the lamp to the small stand near her angled table. The golden glow upon her face made her skin appear impossibly smooth and soft. He wanted to touch her flesh and slowly remove her new garments until lamplight caressed her entire body.

“What did you want to show me?” His voice sounded thick and rough. He couldn’t help but smile. Hiding his emotions from humans generally came effortlessly to him. She made him feel everything so strongly he could conceal nothing.

“I would prefer to answer your question first. Gabriel explained why you are being punished.”

“Because I’m not content to be a mindless servant?”

Pulling her stool away from the table, she sat and looked directly into his eyes. “I spent the day in the library learning what I could about angels. I’ll not pretend to understand how you feel, but I’m attempting to—”

“Why?” He cut off her words with his sudden movements. Grasping the table on either side of her, he framed her with his body. “Why would you try to understand me?”

He expected her to shrink back, to cower against the table or push him away. When her hand rose to his cheek and warmth filled her bright blue eyes, it was all he could do not to retreat. Her fingers were so warm and her touch so gentle the beast within him tossed restlessly.

“There is more to what you feel for me than the desire to hurt your brother,” she said softly, carefully. She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip, her gaze following the movement.

Gideon set his teeth but refused to flinch.

“I’m not a fool. I know you don’t love me but this is no longer about revenge.”

Deftly catching the pad of her thumb between his teeth, he punished her honesty with a firm nip. She gasped and then laughed, but her hand trembled as she pulled away.

He leaned in closer, inhaling her scent, absorbing her heat. “This is about lust.” He whispered the taunting words directly above her ear.

“Lust is cold,” she whispered in return. “Easily sated and quickly forgotten. What burns between us is far more complicated than lust.”

She pivoted on the stool and he was forced to step back. Dislodging one of his hands, she reached under the table and retrieved a scroll and an intricately carved wooden box.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” He exaggerated the disappointment in his voice.

She chuckled and nodded her head. “If you cannot expose yourself to sunlight, how have you survived as a mercenary all these years?” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you a mercenary? You arrived with a group of them so I presumed you were one.”

“I have no association with those men, but I do offer my sword for various forms of compensation.”

Her fingers encircled his wrist and she pulled him around to stand in front of the table. Did she feel safer with an obstacle between them or was it simply easier to converse facing him? No matter, he certainly enjoyed looking at her.

“Most battles occur during daylight hours. How are you able to fight?”

“The trappings of war have served me well. A coif and hauberk, mail gauntlets and a helm—I am covered from head to toe.”

“Then it is only your skin that reacts to the sunlight?”

“Nay. I am a nocturnal creature now. I cannot fight my nature. More often than I fight, I search out information. Certain of my abilities make this nearly effortless.”

She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands. “You’re a spy.”

He chuckled at the mischief twinkling in her eyes. “I am many things.”

Her attention turned back to the items she had set on the table. First she opened the box and withdrew ragged scraps of vellum in various shapes and sizes. “I drew most of these when I was quite young so you must not laugh or you will hurt my feelings.”

Though her technique had improved greatly over the years, her talent showed in even the first drawings. Gideon looked at each sketch she handed him, determined to remain unmoved by her work. The first group depicted boys and girls, most of them about five or six.

“Where were you when you drew these?” he asked.

“
Jerusalem
. Brother Gabriel had not yet been transferred here. Some of these were my friends. Some were other orphans whom I cared for. I was twelve when we came to the Krak.”