Redemption (14 page)

Gabriel squints into the darkness, staring so hard he makes himself see a pinprick of light.
 
No, not just one pinprick but hundreds.
 
“What is that?”

Seneh doesn’t respond verbally, but the pressure on Gabriel’s shoulder increases as his guardian urges him forward.
 
Gabriel’s wet shoes slap loudly against the floor, picking up speed as he breaks into a jog.

The light grows brighter and more defined as they draw near.
 
He soon realizes that it isn’t a hundred single lights but the flickering of millions.
 
A swarm of creatures hang before them like a curtain of lightning bugs but entirely different at the same time.
 

Their wings are florescent, glowing in brilliant blues, oranges, purples and yellows.
 
They have two arms and legs, a broad torso and tiny neck.
 
Their heads seem oddly large for the size of their bodies.
 
Their eyes are wide and colorless.

Gabriel spins beneath the blanket of light, in awe of this strange beauty.
 
“What are they?”

“They are Faer.
 
I believe humans would call them faeries.”
 
Gabriel lifts his hand to touch one, but Seneh pulls him back, shaking his head.
 
“It is not wise to touch anything here.”

“Why?”

“Because we are walking on sacred ground.”

He steps past Gabriel, taking the lead as they move beyond the hanging cloud of Faer.
 
Gabriel wishes he could linger and study these unusual creatures, but he doesn’t want to risk being separated from Seneh.
 

“How many other mythical creatures are real?”

“What is mythical to you now was once fact to many people.
 
Just because certain creatures have not been seen in the present day does not mean they do not still exist.”

“Sort of like the creatures of the deep?
 
Those giant squids you see on the Discovery Channel?”

Seneh turns to look at Gabriel, his brow deeply furrowed.
 
“I am not sure of what you speak.”

Gabriel laughs, shaking his head.
 
“Sorry.
 
I forget that you don’t watch TV.”

He follows Seneh further into the dark, leaving the cloud of light behind.
 
After several minutes he begins to hear a strange sound.
 
“Is that…wings?”

Seneh nods, his grip on his sword tightening.
 
“Stay behind me.”

Apprehension seizes Gabriel as he shifts to walk in the footsteps of his guardian.
 
What could possibly be making that sound? Another creature lost to history books?

The sound of rushing wind is countered by the plodding of heavy feet.
 
Gabriel tries to peer around Seneh, but the angel blocks his attempts.
 
“What you are about to approach has not been seen by a human in thousands of years.”

“But I’m not human.”

Seneh glances back over his shoulder.
 
“That is merely a technicality.”

When he steps aside, Gabriel’s mouth drops open.
 
He’s not sure if it is awe or terror that glues his tongue to the roof of his mouth, but he would guess it’s a bit of both.

There, standing on either side of a gleaming archway, are two of the most unique creatures he has ever seen.
 
Their heads and facial features appear to be human, but that is where the resemblance ends.
 
They possess the fierce, powerful body of a lion with two wings on either side.
 

They stand nearly taller than Seneh, double the height of Gabriel.
 
He gapes up at the beasts, his eyes shifting from their imposing figures to the sword that turns between them, blocking the path beyond.
 
The blade is tall, silver and straight.
 
Blue and orange flames lick across the surface, weaving an intricate pattern across the blade.
 

Just beyond, Gabriel spies an endless forest, rich with wildlife and vegetation.
 
Sunlight appears to filter down through the leaves, casting a warm glow on the woodland.
 
A calm falls over Gabriel as he stares at the garden.
 
It feels so tranquil and perfect.

“Be mindful, young one,” Seneh warns as he lowers his sword before him.
 
“The Cherubim will not give up their sword easily.”

“Seriously?
 
You want me to take that sword from them?”
 
He can’t even fathom how he could survive such a confrontation.

“No.”
 
Seneh shakes his head.
 
“You will have to prove your worth. Then, perhaps if we are lucky, they will give it to you.”

“And if not?” Gabriel questions, peering uncertainly up at the creatures.

Seneh’s eyes darken as he raises his sword.
 
“I would rather not find out.”

Twelve

T
he whisper of silk and the rapid clack of heels from down the hall alerts Malachi to Ainsley’s presence.
 
He glances at the clock, surprised by her early return.
 
He assumed she would be gone the entire day, happily spending his money shopping on Oxford Street.

He takes a deep breath and pushes aside the book he’s been pretending to read for the last hour.
 
Although it has always been a favorite, it has not been able to capture his attention today.
 
Not after meeting with Lucien and seeing the changes he’s undergone.

His stomach knots painfully at the thought of Roseline becoming a thing. He can’t let it happen, that much is clear, but sneaking her out of here, especially in her current state, will be nearly impossible.
 
Malachi is no coward, but going against Lucien Enescue is sure suicide.
 

Taking a long sip from his chilled cup, he contemplates several options.
 
The cool blood slides down his throat, easing the nagging discomfort he has felt since exiting Lucien’s room.
 
Normally blood is not an attraction for him, but today he is making an exception.
 
As the sedative slowly takes effect, he exhales and waits for the door to open.

The staccato of heels pauses just outside his study door.
 
The doorknob turns and the door sweeps silently inward.
 

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”
 
The sultry tone of Ainsley’s voice used to send shivers of desires racing down his spine.
 
He once would have done anything for that woman, but no longer.
 
Now she puts him on edge, always wary.
 

They used to be quite the pair back in the day: bloodlettings at Stonehenge, parties at the Hell Fire club, dancing around the fires and plagues that tore through London.
 
Those were good times.

But those times are long gone.
 
Malachi isn’t the same guy any more.

“Back so soon?
 
Did you max out my credit limit already?”

Her lower lip puckers into a pout as she closes the door behind her.
 
“Don’t be like that.
 
You know you like treating me to little gifts.”

She slinks around the edge of his desk.
 
Her skintight black dress rides high on her thigh as she uses the heel of her knee-high leather boot to push his chair back from the desk.
 
She sinks down onto his lap, tugging at the collar of his shirt.
 
“I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.
 
You’ve been so busy the past few weeks and I’ve been lonely.”

Her pout used to make his toes curls, but now he stares back dispassionately.
 
“You know I’ve been working.”

“Working?” she snorts, batting eyelashes that shimmer with silver.
 
Her lavender eyes open wide, defined by dark eyeliner and smoky eye shadow.
 
“With musty old books?
 
Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to have fun?”

“Fun,” he mutters, pushing her back as she slowly begins unbuttoning his shirt.
 
“I’m not in the mood for
fun
.”

He lifts her easily from his lap and places her on his desk.
 
He averts his eyes as she slides down onto the glossed wood while trying to entangle him with her legs.
 
Skirting past her, he takes great care in replacing his book to its rightful place on the shelf.

“You care more about those books than you do me.”

His shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh.
 
“I don’t have time for this, Ainsley.”

He moves to walk around her, but her leg flashes out, blocking his path. She rises up onto her elbows, staring him down.
 
Her smile is gone and her gaze is sharp as a razor.
 
“You always were a terrible liar.”

His expression darkens.
 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She pushes off his desk, placing herself in his path. “I know where you’ve been going.
 
What you’ve been doing.
 
The walls have ears, Malachi, and they like to sing.”

He keeps his face void of emotion as he leans forward.
 
“I have nothing to hide.”

With a hard shove, he removes her from his path and walks by.
 
She stumbles two steps, her hip connecting painfully with the edge of his desk before righting herself.
 
As he stretches out his hand to open the door, a heel slams into the back of his head with enough force to crack a human skull.

Malachi bounces off the door and turns slowly, his nostrils flaring in anger.
 
Ainsley defiantly stares him down.
 
“What do you think Lucien will say when he finds out that
you
are the reason the girl hasn’t changed?
 
How many hours of torture do you think you will have to endure while he peels your skin off, like you did to that old monk?”

His fingers press into the flesh of her throat before she even has a chance to blink.
 
“You will say nothing, is that understood?
 
If I so much as suspect that you’ve tried to snitch, I swear I will tie you to a mooring ball and toss you in the ocean, where you can spend eternity praying for death.”

Her eyes flash with anger.
 
“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”
 
He slams her back into his bookshelf, smashing through the wood and cracking the stone beyond.
 
His precious books tumble to the floor, but he doesn’t stoop to reclaim them.
 
Instead, he turns on his heel and slams the door shut behind him.
 

***

R
oseline holds her ear, praying that the crying will stop.
 
The wailing started up not long after the candle burned out.
 
It must be the voices taunting her again.

“Please, just stop,” she moans, rocking.
 
Her tailbone is bruised and bleeding, but she can’t seem to stop.
 
She fears if she does, the voices will catch up to her.

“Shut up.
 
Shut up.
 
Shut up!”
 
She doesn’t know how much more she can take.
 

The pain in her fingers and toes pulsates, reminding her of her pitiful attempt to rescue Enael.
 
She slams her forehead against the stone, trying to erase the memories.
 
“I am nothing.
 
I am nothing.
 
I am nothing,” she chants.

“That’s not true,” a raspy whisper comes from the dark.

“Shut up!” She screams, slamming her head against the wall again, so hard her forehead splits open and blood trickles down her nose.
 
“It’s talking to me again. It won’t leave me alone.
 
It just calls and calls and calls.”

“I’m not a voice.
 
I’m Enael, remember?”

“No.
 
Mustn’t speak to it.
 
It’s bad.
 
Bad voice,” she croons, plunging her hands into her hair.
 
“Enael is dead. Gone.
 
In pieces.”

“I know where he’s gone,” the voice whispers again.

“He?”
 
Roseline pauses.
 
“He who?
 
I’m not a he.”

“Gabriel.
 
I know where he’s going.”

She blinks, brushing back the nest of sweaty hair from about her face.
 
“Gabriel?
 
You know him?
 
I miss him.”

“I know you do.
 
If you can get me down, I can tell you where to find him.”

Her rocking resumes.
 
“Can’t.
 
Not allowed to jump.
 
Toes don’t like it.”

“Please,” Enael calls from above.
 
“They’re going to kill me!”

“Not dead.
 
Can’t die.
 
Just a voice in the dark.”

“Do I smell dead to you?”

She cocks her head to the side and takes a deep breath.
 
Her pupils dilate as she cranes her head back.
 
“You smell good.”

“That’s it,” he calls down.
 
“See.
 
I am real.”

Rising slowly, Roseline begins to sway back and forth.
 
Her tongue flicks rapidly out between her lips, tasting the air.
 
“I smell blood.
 
Smells yummy.”

“Uh…” She can hear his chains shifting above as she circles below him, like a vulture stalking its prey.
  
“Roseline?
 
You do know that I’m not for eating, right?”

“Eat?”
 
Her stomach growls on command.
 
The bones in her fingers crack as she curls them into her fists.
 
She steps beneath a slow drip of blood that falls from above.
 
Droplets splatter against her cheek and she smears it toward her lips, inhaling the scent.
 
“Hungry.”

“Help!”
 
The chains clatter overhead.
 
“Someone help me!”

She giggles, moving toward the wall.
 
“No help.
 
Nobody cares.”

Propelled by the basic need for food, she clings to the wall and slowly begins to climb.
 
Her toes are useless as she digs her nails deep into the stone and pulls herself upward.
 
Enael thrashes above her.
 
She cackles, inching higher.
 
“Die. Die.
 
Die.”

The clattering of chains seems to be all around her now, above and below, echoing through her mind.
 
She pauses, pressing against the wall as she prepares to spring backward.

Enael shrieks.
 
A hand clasps around Roseline’s foot as she leaps and she plunges to the ground.
 
She hits hard, her cheekbone shattering on impact.
 

“Roseline!”
 
Strong hands yank her upright, holding her face.
 
“Oh god.
 
It’s already begun.”

“She just tried to eat me!” Enael screams.

“Shut up,” Malachi yells, yanking up his sleeve.
 
Her head lolls against his lap, her vision hindered by the light of his lantern.
 
She rolls to the side as the room begins to spin, sure that she is about to vomit all over his pretty shoes.
 
“Hold on, Roseline.
 
Just hold on.”

The warmth of his flesh startles her.
 
The scent of his blood is too sweet to resist.
 
She instantly buries her teeth into his flesh, relishing the hiss that passes his lips.
 
She drinks deep, her eyes rolling back into her head as she gives way to need.

***

T
he cold splash of water does wonders to cool Sadie off.
 
She cups her hands under the bathroom faucet and douses herself repeatedly.
 
Water drips from the end of her nose and off her long eyelashes, splattering against the rusted sink drain.
 

“That’s a good way to get hypothermia,” an elderly woman says as she opens a stall door behind Sadie.
 
The sound of the flushing toilet follows her out.