The Revelation of Gabriel Adam (16 page)

Micah turned around to see Gabe on his back. “Just who do you think—?”

“Bloody tease! Get your ass back inside, you stupid bitch.”

The degree to which Yuri’s temper rose seemed to catch Micah by surprise. Gabe could see her recoil from the maddened look on the blond boy’s face.

Then a searing pain in Gabe’s hand traveled past his wrist and up through his forearm to his shoulder, like he had grabbed hold of a lightning bolt. He could no longer maintain his balled-up fist, and in that instant he realized he was up and had punched Yuri in the jaw.

He toppled to the ground like a falling tree and then started to get up but instead collapsed again in a heap. Several of his drunken friends came out to see the commotion. Because of their dulled wits, it seemed to take them a moment to work out what had just happened. Once they did, Micah and Gabe became the target of vicious verbal abuse and insults, though none of them thought to challenge the kid who had just felled their leader with one blow.

Gabe gave his hardest look to discourage any of them from getting physically involved. It was all for show—only a bluff. His hand had disappeared into the pain and left him unable to fight on, even if they were all drunk.

Micah pulled Gabe away. “Let’s go. They’re not worth it.”

He turned to see Yuri being helped to his feet by several of his friends. He looked steady and, strangely, focused with a dagger stare, no longer the out-of-control drunk from the moment before. Gabe thought he saw a smile behind the blond locks that fell into his rival’s face.

They hurried away, past the New Inn and toward Kingsgate Bridge. Once again, Micah practically dragged him by his coat.

Gabe cradled his hand under his arm. She finally noticed and slowed down.

“Do you think they’re following us?” Micah glanced behind them. “There’s been enough drama for one night.” She looked at his hand. “Is it broken?”

“Don’t know. Hurts like hell, though.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Gabe winced as he held his hand out for Micah. It was swollen. A bruise had formed just under the knuckle.

“Can you move your fingers?”

Reluctantly, he tried and they all moved. “Yeah, sort of.”

“They’re probably not broken, then.” She bent down to scoop up some fresh snow off the sidewalk. “Come here. Give us your hand.”

Gabe held out his hand again.

Micah piled the snow on his knuckles. “No one’s ever defended my honor before.” She laughed. “I thought people only did stupid things like that in those black-and-white movies Carlyle likes to watch.”

“That’s me. Old-fashioned, I guess.”

“Well, anyway, for what it’s worth, thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said. The pain in his hand was replaced by the stinging cold, but soon it went numb.

Gabe and Micah stared at each other in silence.

Her gaze darted away, and she looked up the street toward Collingwood. “What a prat, they are. I swear the posh ones are the worst. With their Pimm’s and pashmina. They buy you a drink and think they have a free pass into your knickers.”

Gabe laughed a little through the discomfort. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“But you know what I mean. He
was
an ass.”

“I thought so, too. The snow is helping. Thanks.”

They took their time as they strolled along the empty street, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Neither of them dared to speak, though Micah kept smiling and biting her lower lip, as if she wanted to. But Gabe didn’t mind the silence. Just being in her company was enough.

Along the way, they stopped at a small church playground across the street from a cemetery. Gabe sensed a sadness or regret as she stared at the swing sets under the trees. She seemed to drift in her thoughts. Micah left his side and entered the playground through the open gate. She walked to a merry-go-round and brushed the snow off before sitting down. He followed her in, unsure of what to say or do. If only awkward was something he could shed, like his jacket.

“When I was a kid, Carlyle used to take me to parks like this. I think he wanted me to feel like I still had a childhood, even with everything that had happened.” She patted the seat beside her, beckoning him to sit. “I know how you feel, Gabe. About everything. I miss the promise of those days, too. The hope of that future. We have more in common, I think, than I want to admit.”

He joined her, and she kicked the ground. They spun slowly, picnic tables and seesaws passing by. He looked into Micah’s eyes and saw an inner conflict waging.

Once again, she grabbed him by his jacket. This time, she pulled herself close and kissed him on the lips, holding herself to him for just a second.

Her breasts crushed against his chest. Gabe’s cheeks flushed, and his heartbeat doubled. He no longer thought about how cold it was or how much his hand hurt. In fact, he no longer thought of anything except the soft wetness of her full lips, the warmth of her body, and how amazing it felt to be kissing Micah.

She pulled away, and Gabe could see that all her confidence and light had returned.

“In case you’re wondering, he never had a chance,” she whispered with a smile. They held each other’s gaze until her eyes narrowed, and then her smile faded. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Gabe listened to the night. Behind the hush of the wind and falling snow he heard a very distinct sound coming from the direction of the castle.

“It’s the alarm.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The cold air burned in Gabe’s lungs as he ran after Micah through the castle gatehouse, his hand throbbing again as blood flowed harder to the bruised hand. She was faster than him, and in the darkness, he had trouble keeping up.

She stopped in the courtyard, searching as the Norman Gallery’s alarm blared into the night. “See anything?”

“No. It’s too dark,” Gabe said and followed her to the entrance. The door was slightly open.

“It’s been picked, or someone has a key,” Micah said under her breath.

“We should call the police. Or Carlyle.”

Micah didn’t respond but instead pushed the door open and walked inside.

“This is stupid,” Gabe protested. “If we get caught, that curator will have us expelled. He’ll think we did it. He suspects us already.”

She turned and put her finger to her lips. “If we catch the intruder,” she whispered, “we can find out what’s going on before the authorities interfere.”

Gabe knew he couldn’t change her mind. They crept down the hall, past the maze of new glass cases and model displays as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb the delicate exhibits.

“Look,” she said.

The door to the stairway leading to the vault was unhinged and lay broken against the wall. Smoke drifted up from a scorch mark by the doorknob as if it had been electrocuted or blowtorched. Gabe could smell more fumes drifting up the staircase.

“Something’s on fire,” Micah said and rushed down into the dark.

Gabe followed her, his arm over his mouth to avoid inhaling smoke.

Inside, the lamp lay on the floor, its bulb sparking and flashing. Books and papers were strewn about the room, some of them smoldering. The gate had been destroyed and bent back at an awkward angle, but the vault remained sealed.

On the surface of the heavy door was a charred scar crumpling the metal in a way that looked like a bomb had been detonated there. The amount of force needed to cause steel to warp like that was unimaginable.

“It held,” Micah said.

Above the basement came the sound of shattering glass.

Micah looked at Gabe. “The intruder.”

She stormed past him and up the stairs.

“Micah, wait. It could be dangerous.” He ran after her, thinking of Richard’s horrible fate. Upstairs, he found her crouched down by an overturned exhibit in pieces on the floor. Something caught her attention outside—a shadow sprinting into the night.

She tore after the specter, through the entrance and into the freezing air with Gabe following close behind. The intruder ran down Owengate Street, past The Shakespeare Tavern, and toward the city center.

Micah stopped and pulled Gabe into the narrowest of crevices between the buildings. “This way is faster, down the castle wall stairs. It will cut off the intruder’s escape.”

Wide steps, narrowly spaced, made the steepness of the descent tricky to navigate. Gabe had trouble keeping his balance, and the darkness prevented him from seeing anything in front of him.

His eyes adjusted, and he found a medieval wall made of stone on his left following the path, which left no more than four feet of space from the back of the buildings of the market shops. Crates and cardboard boxes from store inventory obstructed the uneven ground.

“Quickly and mind your step!” Micah said.

The warning came too late. Gabe lost his footing and stumbled, falling onto the damp concrete. He used the castle wall to regain his composure and get back to his feet, but Micah had disappeared into the alley. Gabe hurried, wanting to catch her before she did anything that might get her in trouble.

As he neared the bend in the alley that led to the street, a blinding white light flashed, illuminating the path. It looked like lightning but not in the sky. Spots filled his vision, and his eyes burned.

“Micah?” Gabe shouted, feeling the way ahead along the wall with his hands. Someone moaned nearby. He stumbled from the alley and into the open, still blind. His boot caught on something, and he fell to the ground, splashing into puddles of snow and ice.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Gabe’s eyes began to readjust to the night enough to see his legs. Micah lay under them, whimpering and in obvious pain. He untangled his feet from her coat. “Are you okay? What happened? Can you move?”

She rolled over onto her back and rubbed her head, checking her hand for blood. “Too many questions . . . ears ringing.”

“Too many? Are you serious? I thought you were dead.”

She started to move, which let out the air that had been held in his lungs. “He got away,” she said and sat up.

“I noticed. What the hell was that light?”

“You saw it, too? I thought they were stars from a punch.” She rubbed her head again, obviously feeling the pain. “No knot but I still think he hit me. My whole brain feels like it’s been microwaved. Help me up.”

“Maybe you should lay there until I get some help.”

She looked at him, eyebrows arched, indignant.

“Or I can help you up.” Gabe stood, his knee aching as he did so, and grabbed her under the arm to lift.

Micah was able to stand, but it seemed to take all her effort. “I need to work on my sea legs. Did you see anything?”

“No. Just a flash of light.”

She moaned. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Let’s get you back to Carlyle’s. He’ll know what to do.”

“No,” Micah said. “He’s not going to know, because we’re not telling him.”

Gabe’s objection must have been plain on his face.

Micah dusted the snow off her clothes and stood taller, defiant. “If he finds out, we’ll be locked up until the End of Days. I don’t know about you, but I already feel like a prisoner in my life. Telling Carlyle won’t make anything better for us, and it won’t do anything to help them figure out what’s going on. There was an intruder; he got away. Nothing changes that. That also means you’re not telling your father, either. He and Carlyle are beginning to share a brain.”

“That’s ridiculous. You were just
attacked
.”

“Not up for discussion.”

Gabe could see in her eyes that she was serious and that unless he wanted to lose her trust, he would do as she said. “So what do we tell them? They’ll know about the vault, if they don’t already.”

“We’ll tell them we were out, and we heard the alarm. That’s it.”

“And the light? How do you explain that?”

“A stun gun or something. Maybe a Taser. I don’t know.”

Gabe wasn’t sure, either. Two trails in the snow extended from her feet to where she had lain on the street, as if she’d been dragged, standing, several yards from a bald spot on the ground where the snow was melted away. Micah had not noticed it yet. Gabe thought about asking her, but she looked worried enough.

She tried to walk but wobbled, falling into Gabe’s arms.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way. But I’m taking you back to your room.”

“I need to call Carlyle first. Let him know about the alarm.” She pulled out her phone from her pocket and tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. “It’s dead. I thought I charged it. Give me yours.”

Gabe handed her his new phone. “My dad just gave me this, but I don’t have anyone’s numbers in it yet.”

“That’s okay.” Micah dialed a number, and when Carlyle answered, she told him the news. As Micah had promised, she left out any account of the chase through the city center or her injury, then hung up. “He already knew. He wants us to stay away from the vault and suspects Balor will be on his way, along with the Durham police. Carlyle doesn’t want to complicate the situation by us being there.”