Samael (15 page)

Her reflection had a strange effect on her. For two thousand years, she’d been
other
people. Wearing different skin and hair, she’d caught images of herself every now and then. She’d see herself in the shining metal of a warrior’s shield, or the smooth, un-rippled surface of a calm lake. And for some of those times, she was draped in fineries. Once, she’d worn a royal’s garments on a mission to save a queen from a beheading. One time, she’d donned the robes of a king’s mistress in order to save a pair of princes from execution.

So, it wasn’t that she’d never seen herself dressed as she was now, in clothing more befitting of a queen. It was that she’d never seen her
true
self dressed like this. She’d never seen something as beautiful as this on
Angel
.

She felt revealed and yet coveted. It was upsetting, in an oddly freeing kind of way.

What am I doing?

One second, she was running from one of the most powerful, dangerous men in the world, and the next, she was dressing for him to take her to dinner. Her existence had taken a 180 degree turn in a matter of seconds.

A knock at her door wrenched her from the relative comfort and safety of her own thoughts and slammed her back to the real world.

Samael!

She suddenly felt dizzy. At once, her heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might crack her ribcage. Her temperature was rising, and her cheeks were flushing. She even felt a little queasy.

Good grief
, she thought.
Am I… nervous? Or am I dying?

She’d been scared before, but she’d been different then. She’d had powers, she’d been relatively impermeable, and she’d been frankly stronger. Is this what it felt like to be
mortal
and nervous?

She’d never felt more sorry for the human race.

Suddenly, she was mad.
For crying out loud, Angel. Buck the hell up. It’s dinner, not war.
But the look on her reflection’s face told her she wasn’t so sure there was a difference.

She spun around and moved as quickly as possible out of the closet and across the bedroom to the door. She gave herself credit for managing to do so with some semblance of grace in four-inch spike heels. Mortal or not, she was woman, hear her roar.

But once she reached the door, her hand stilled on the knob. She swallowed hard and listened to her blood rush through her eardrums.

The rapping came again, this time a little louder than before, and inches from her face. She jumped at the sound.

Crap.

Without allowing herself any further thought, she turned the knob and opened the door.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There was a hiccup in time, a moment that simply did not exist – because it would not be marked and could not be pinned down – in which storm gray eyes met stormier gray eyes, lightning flashed, and something invisible wrapped around her like a vice to hold her prisoner in that time-free dimension. This lasted forever before the taller set of eyes, those filled with the darker, more dangerous clouds, tore away from hers and meandered. She was kept immobile before them as their keen awareness possessed her, scouring the curve of her cheek, the lines of her lips, the length of her neck…. She felt her body heat up beneath their scrutiny, and yet, she only partly noticed.

Because she,
too
, was looking.

The moment she’d opened the door, every instance of overwhelming awe she’d experienced over the years came rushing back to her. Every moment she’d spent staring at a television screen where Sam stood before the news crews in his three-piece suits, so tall and sure and larger than life, was replaying before her mind’s eye. She heard his voice, low and sexy, speaking in dulcet, confident tones and turning phrases that would leave poets swooning. He was always in command, always in control, and every moment of longing she’d felt as she’d gazed into those other places and times washed over her like a smothering but exuberating tide.

He was once more the billionaire businessman, draped in the dark, tailor-cut fineries of a magnificent designer suit that perfectly hugged broad shoulders and sculpted arms. His wrist sparkled with a platinum watch, and his cufflinks glittered with diamonds. A whiff of masculine scent, a hint of aftershave and cologne that couldn’t quite mask the scent of fresh fallen rain around him, teased her nostrils and made her mouth water. The strong curve of his chin so gallantly graced the top of his white collar, it made her legs weak. It was a body part she had always admired in men, especially in Sam.

But of everything from head to toe, what stunned Angel the most in his appearance, what actually stole the language from her tongue, were his
eyes
. They were the shiniest gems of all, like zapping sparks of electricity in an on-going lightning storm. He gazed at her with a fire that burned hotter than the sun, searing-white and deadly beautiful, and she was mesmerized by the blaze, unable to look away.

He branded her with it then and there.

And just like that, she was forever marked.

She felt it move through her, leaving its symbol upon every cell of blood, and every neuron of her mind. She swallowed hard. She wanted to read his mind in that moment.

The fact that she couldn’t do exactly that was an unwelcome reminder of things. Such as the fact that the dark angel in front of her had taken away her powers. It was also further proof that he hadn’t been
lying
about taking away those powers. He really had stolen her magic.

A
flicker
of her earlier anger was back, blunting everything else just enough that she was able to let go of the door handle and pull her gaze from his magnetic figure. She straightened before him, rolling back her shoulders and clearing her throat.

But he said nothing, and remained towering over her, radiating unspoken emotion and strength. She felt heat enter her cheeks and looked up once again.

It was a mistake. His eyes locked with hers. Her breath caught.

“Angel….” He stuttered. Then he frowned and cleared his throat, clearly at a loss for words.

Angel flushed. It was strange seeing Sam caught off guard. It was wonderful. His sudden show of weakness in that moment made Angel feel like the most powerful woman in the world.

Nothing he could have said would have topped that.

Sam composed himself quickly, however, and though his eyes still burned, he offered her his elbow like a true gentleman. “Are you ready to go?” he asked politely, outwardly once more in control.

She nodded. She was as ready as she would ever be. The last few hours had blown her clear out of reality and into the Twilight Zone. Now she was just along for the ride.

She slipped her arm into his, and suppressed the shiver that wanted to claim her at the intimate contact. But then he placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm, and the shiver won.

If he noticed, he was gentleman enough not to mention it. They left her quarters and moved back to the recessed sitting room, where tea and cakes appeared to have been once more set, replaced, and refreshed. Angel caught the scent of fresh baked bread, cookies and croissants, pastries and chocolate, and that undertone earthy scent of freshly brewed tea.

“Is it the table that’s enchanted, or the tea tray?”

“Both,” he replied easily. He stopped beside the bowl on top of the side table against one wall. The bowl contained the pea sized glowing balls that he’d dropped into it earlier. They made a sound like rolling marbles on the inside of the glass as he scooped them all into his left hand.

“What
are
those?” she asked.

“Transportation orbs.” He deposited the majority of the orbs into one suit jacket pocket, and with his free hand, he extracted something from the other pocket. Sam raised that new object before her, and it turned slowly, brilliantly reflecting the fire light from the gas lamps in the room.

It was a yellow gold locket, smoothly polished, yet intricately carved. It was oval in shape and dangled from an equally gold, clearly high quality curb chain. She watched him in silence as he popped the locket open to reveal a good sized hollow inside. Into this space, he placed two of the tiny orbs, which fit snuggly and perfectly in the space, like peas in a pod.

“Just in case,” he said, closing the locket again. Then he deftly took her by the upper arm and turned her around. Goosebumps raised along her flesh as he moved her hair to the side and draped the necklace around her neck, clasping it easily behind her.

“This is what I used to transport us to the
Nautilus
, as I know you’ve decided to call it.” He turned her back around and gave her a knowing smile. “So you see, I truly did give up my powers as well. The bonus to using charmed objects rather than inherent power is that the magic cannot be traced. There is no signature to follow.”

The weight of the locket was extravagant and thrilling where it rested against Angel’s chest. She had arguments dancing on her tongue, and bitter injustice still burned in her veins, but the night was young and there was time, and for now, she was just once again surprised by the fact that coincidences seemed to be taking over her life. She’d chosen not to wear a necklace, despite the plethora of decorations to choose from, and then Sam had presented her with one that she was instantly enchanted with.

The synchronicity between her and Sam could no longer be denied. It was there. It was real. It only remained for her to wonder
why
.

“Shall we?” he asked, again offering her his elbow.

This time, she took it without hesitation, and he pulled one of the transport orbs from the same pocket he’d dropped them into. This, he clasped firmly in a closed hand.

The world opened up and spun around them.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Max shielded his eyes from the sun and gazed up at the higher levels of the Willis Tower, which nearly everyone who’d ever either lived in Chicago or developed any sense of loyalty for old architecture and history, still called the
Sears
Tower. They’d decided to come during the day, for various reasons. Forcing Rhiannon to wait had been difficult; the Fire Healer was even more headstrong than her archangel. However, she’d eventually acquiesced, Mr. Verdigris had returned to the foundation, and once the sun had risen, the rest of them had taken the doors of the crack-riddled Mansion to a doorway in an alley not far from the tower.

“This has to be the oddest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, referring to the fact that he was actually there, gawking up at the place where Sam spent most of his life.

“I think it’s also one of the strangest things many of these people have ever seen,” said Juliette. Max glanced over, and she nodded to a group of people across South Franklin Street who were standing under the awning and staring at them. He stared back. Then he looked around at the intersection.
Everyone
was staring at them, actually.

“Too many gorgeous men in one place, doing nothing but staring up at the same floor of Chicago’s tallest building,” Eleanore quipped.

“Stunning lasses, too,” Gabriel added with that lopsided grin that was so disarming to so very many women.

“You’re both right,” agreed Max. They did look a tad conspicuous standing out there in front of the Pret-A-Manger, doing nothing but craning their necks. Then again, that was rather the point. They were trying to get Sam’s attention.

Transporting directly into the Sears Tower had always been impossible. Wards and magic stronger than that belonging to the archangels had consistently kept them at bay, Mansion doors or not. And even if it hadn’t been impossible, it would have been unwise. Trapped within the walls of the building, locked away from the prying eyes of the public, absolute war could have broken out between the archangels and Samael. Out here, however, in broad daylight, on the street and in plain view, Max was hoping that any meeting between the two could be conducted in a more civil manner.

His ears pricked at the sound of leather-soled shoes approaching.

Lilith had exited the building and was in the crosswalk, walking toward them. Her heels made a distinctive click against the pavement. As usual, she was dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, her tall, svelte figure highlighted by the flattering cut of her clothing. Everything about her bespoke of femininity, yet intelligence. She was softness, yet strength.

It made perfect sense that she had been the first woman on Earth… she was the
ultimate
woman, to be sure.

She smiled at Max as she approached, and the secrets contained in the corners of that smile made Max wonder whether she somehow knew what he’d been thinking. He cleared his throat, and tried not to let the heat in his neck reach his cheeks. He nodded a greeting. “Lilith.”

“Max,” she returned pleasantly. “I must say, it’s quite an experience seeing you all here together like this.” She looked away, turning her attention to Az, who had his arm wrapped protectively around Sophie’s shoulders. “Especially with you in the crowd, Azrael. You’re a different sight to behold beneath the rays of the sun.” She made a face. “What sun we can get down here in the shadow of these beasts, anyway.” She smiled. “I’m sure it’s an experience for you as well.”

Az returned the smile. Who could
not
smile in Lilith’s presence? She radiated kindness and charm. “You could say that,” he agreed with just as much charm. He’d been capable of walking in daylight since he and Sophie had become an item, and by the way he often looked directly up and into the rays of that brightly shining star above, Max sometimes wagered the vampire king would never grow accustomed to, much less tired of, being able to do so without going completely blind and then turning to ash.

“Max,” Lilith began, turning back to him. The group grew quiet and attentive. “You’re here for Samael, and from the looks of it, you’re also expecting a fight.”

“We want to know if he sent Jason after Sophie,” said Rhiannon. Mimi, who had won all of their arguments with her and ended up tagging along, stood beside her. The two looked so much alike, Rhiannon could have been Mimi’s mother. Or her much older sister, at least.