Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal)

  Chapter Twelve

  No Immortals showed up on her doorstep the first two days after she left the French Alps. Deidre began to relax. She settled into the luxe penthouse and learned her way around the neighborhood. As the third day came to a close, she suspected they – more specifically, Gabriel ­– had really let her go. After the first glass of wine, she was convinced. A second glass led her to think it was all her fault. After the fifth, she was certain she’d dreamt it all up. Or died and gone to hell.

  A bottle of wine later, Deidre found herself sobbing on the couch. She didn’t try to test the portals, fearing they wouldn’t work. It was clear he wasn’t coming for her. He’d spent the past three nights in bed with another woman after completely destroying her whole world!

  Her wine headache stuck with her throughout the morning on the fourth day. Not even Wynn – who claimed to be her friend – came to find her. She didn’t expect to be so suddenly written off by everyone. Like she was dead.

  But she wasn’t yet.

  Deidre forced her attention from her own issues and outward as she walked through the street fair in downtown Atlanta. Her sunglasses and hat blocked the sun but not the heat, which fed her pulsing head. She wore one of the dresses past-Deidre bought. It wasn’t something she’d consider any other time, a form-fitting jersey knit with spaghetti straps probably more suited for sleeping than wearing out.

  She caught sight of herself in a store window. At least she looked good and was comfortable, even though she felt awful. Would someone like Gabriel notice her, if they crossed paths as random strangers at the festival? Her gaze fell to the tall woman in a slip of a dress that walked by her.

  No way in hell. She was too short. No wonder she settled for Logan. Not that it mattered, but she’d need five inch heels to catch the gaze of someone as sexy as Gabriel. And maybe, a different body. A bigger smile. Larger breasts. Definitely some advice from someone who understood make-up better and a real hair stylist who could figure out how to un-pink hair.

  “Dammit!”

  She had to get him out of her mind. He’d made her an offer. She’d refused. He was moving on while depositing her back at the same crossroads where he’d found her last week. How long until he kicked her out of the apartment, the final act of abandonment after disrupting everything in her life?

  The tattoo hadn’t faded either, just like her memory of the sweet man who made love to her.

  It wasn’t fair.

  She wasn’t going to let a serial killer who chose not to kill her derail her day. No, she’d do what she’d always done: grieve then look for the silver lining. She had a beautiful apartment, a wardrobe, a pantry that magically restocked itself every time she left the place.

  Calmed by the reminder, she left her spot in front of the window. The only thing she didn’t have was nature. She found herself missing the ocean and the forest near the Immortals.

  Chili pepper lights distracted her. Her step slowed as she neared a booth with an assortment of kitchen décor. The sight of something attainable from her bucket list lifted her spirits.

  Deidre bought the lights she’d wanted for years. Logan thought them hideous, and Gabriel had laughed. Screw both men; she was getting her chili pepper lights.

  They proved to be the turning point in her day. The painkillers she’d taken kicked in soon after, and she bought ice cream. Her mood improved, Deidre returned to her penthouse with newfound resolve to enjoy the last few months of her life.

  She spent a grueling hour putting up the string of red lights in the kitchen and stepped back to admire her work. Proud of herself, she sipped from a glass of wine.

  “You little bastards aren’t going anywhere,” she told them triumphantly, admiring the shoddy combination of tacks, tape and nails holding the strands in place along the wall. The sight of the lights thrilled her, reminded her she needed to stop moping around and live her life like a glowing chili pepper.

  Leaning back against the counter, she laughed out loud at her absurd thought. It felt good to laugh after the events of the past week.

  “So you meant to do that.”

  “You’re not going to ruin this for me!” Deidre refused to face him and admired her handiwork. “You destroyed my life. Let me enjoy the shattered pieces you left.”

  As if sensing Death was in the room, the string of lights fell away from the wall on one side.

  “You mean the shattered peppers,” Gabriel said drily.

  She willed herself not to laugh at his joke, but it was hard. He had her kind of humor. There was something else in his voice she couldn’t quite place. He was normally tense around her, his frustration clear. Though he always sounded quietly confident, the new note in his voice was one of calm self-assurance.

  “They’re plastic,” she said in a flat tone. “Like your heart.”

  “Not to interrupt this lover’s spat, but I could use a glass of wine.”

  At the unfamiliar voice, she faced the two men standing outside her kitchen. She didn’t even notice the stranger; her gaze was arrested by Gabriel. The muscular frame, black gaze, dark clothes all looked the same. But he was changed. It was in his relaxed stance, the steadiness of his gaze. She’d always known he was strong. This time, she sensed restrained power of a different kind. Worse, whatever tormented him since they met was no longer an issue. He was comfortable with himself.

  The other Gabriel didn’t know what to do about her. This one might. After rejecting then pining for him for a few days, she wasn’t ready for him to be less confused than she was.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

  Death smiled so faintly, she barely saw it. He tipped his head towards the man he’d brought with him.

  “I made an attempt to teach him to dress,” the night-skinned man in front of her said as she met his gaze. His eyes were the most beautiful blue-purple she’d ever seen.

  She liked him immediately. The air felt a little heavier around her as he spoke, compelling her attention to him. Deidre cocked her head to the side.

  “You don’t remember me,” he said.

  “I don’t know you from Adam,” she retorted.

  Gabriel chuckled. “It really isn’t funny.”

  “Be of use, Gabriel, and fix my chili peppers,” she ordered then addressed the stranger. “I’ll get you some wine.”

  She turned to the wine chiller and pulled out the bottle she opened when she returned home from the street fair. She grabbed a glass, returning to the counter. Gabriel had dumped her wine before starting to replace the lights.

  It was hard to ignore him when he was only a few feet away. Overly aware of his presence, Deidre stepped outside the kitchen to the breakfast counter and poured two glasses of wine.

  “I’m Andre,” the newcomer said. “Deidre, I presume?”

  “Yep. I’m sure I screwed you over in my past life, too.”

  “Only to kill me.”

  She met his gaze. “Another dead guy. Like Wynn.”

  “My father.”

  “How is he?” she asked with more eagerness than she intended.

  Andre motioned for her to sit on one of the stools at the counter. She did, waiting for his response as he sat.

  “He is well enough.”

  “Ah. Of course.” She rolled her eyes at the vague response. “What brings you all to my neighborhood?” She found herself watching Gabriel as he stretched upwards to fix the lights. His shirt stretched tightly over his shoulders and across his back while his biceps flexed and the roped muscles of his forearms rippled with his tinkering. His lean torso, narrow hips and the outline of muscular thighs reminded her too well why she wasn’t able to get him out of her mind.

  She was overheating just looking at him. Andre ceased talking, and she realized he’d been speaking while she ogled Gabriel.

  “Come again?” she asked, sipping her wine.

  Andre raised his eyebrow in polite disapproval, the same way his father did.

  “Wynn?
??s not dead, is he?”

  “No, dear. You were friends?” Andre had Wynn’s patience and manner, though she sensed more genuine warmth in the man before her than she had during the tenure of her friendship with Wynn.

  “Are friends, you mean,” she replied. “As far as I know.”

  “That’s expensive wine, my friend,” Andre said suddenly.

  Deidre twisted to see Gabriel at the wine chiller. He had a bottle in his hand and twisted the cork free with little effort. He gave her the look, the one she knew was meant to remind her of his rules, before he dumped the bottle into the sink. A thrill went through her at the silent dare.

  “Perhaps, if you promise him not to drink it except with me, he’ll spare the rest of those precious bottles,” Andre said, gaze on the wine going down the drain. “I’m French. I cannot bear this level of abuse. Would that appease you, Gabriel?”

  “She knows not to drink,” was the firm response.

  “Judging by the stack of wine bottles near the door, there needs to be a middle ground you can agree on,” Andre advised.

  “Middle ground, sweetie,” she repeated with exaggerated innocence. “Some sort of arrangement we can both live with.”

  Gabriel’s jaw ticked as held her gaze for a long moment. “Very well.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with Gabriel?” she asked, surprised.

  “I can always say no,” he reminded her.

  “So can I.” She turned her back to him.

  “I think we have an agreement,” Andre said, smiling. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” Gabriel replied.

  “I guess,” she said grudgingly. “Now, about this unexpected visit.”

  “Without Gabe to distract you this time, perhaps you will listen,” Andre said.

  She flushed, grateful Gabriel wasn’t able to see her face.

  “My talent lies with the mind. I read, control, manipulate and anything else I need to do to the mind, I can,” Andre started. “I am here simply to assess what is in your brain.”

  “You mean the tumor or my thoughts?” she asked.

  “The tumor.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “To see if there’s something I can do in order to prevent the inevitable, of course.”

  Gabriel moved into her peripheral, thumbs looped through his belt as he leaned against the counter on the other side of the breakfast bar’s island. Deidre looked at him hard for a moment then shook her head and gripped her wine, padding into the living area. She sat in the oversized armchair, curling her legs beneath her as she drank her wine.

  “No,” she said at last.

  “No, what?” Gabriel asked in a growl. The edge reappeared.

  “You heard me.”

  “Deidre, I’m offering my expertise to assist you,” Andre said. His tone was calm. The Immortal sat at the nearest end of the neighboring couch while Gabriel remained standing opposite her on the other side of the ottoman.

  “I’m not interested in your help,” she said. “Your father did everything he could. There’s nothing else I’m willing to try.”

  Andre’s eyebrows both shot up this time. His brilliant gaze turned to Gabriel, who shook his head. She was missing something again. Another secret. Every time she learned a new one, her life went to shit.

  “Then perhaps you’ll agree to let me try for my own edification?” Andre’s words were accompanied by a smile.

  The air around her grew heavy again. She felt confused, suddenly unable to recall why this request was objectionable.

  “I guess,” she murmured.

  “Sit forward.”

  She unfolded her legs and sat on the edge of the chair. Andre perched likewise on the sofa and reached out, placing the cool tips of his fingers on her temples.

  “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

  Deidre did. The coolness of his touch turned to gentle electric currents that worked their paths through her skull. She shivered at the tingling massage traveling across her scalp and into her brain. His examination didn’t last long, and the sensations faded. She opened her eyes when the light pressure of his fingers left her face.

  Andre gazed at her, quiet and thoughtful. His head tilted to the side, and she assessed that he and Gabriel were speaking mentally.

  “Happy?” she asked and eased away. She folded her legs beneath her once more on the chair.

  Gabriel rubbed the back of his head and paced towards the windows.

  “Now you’ll go away, and leave me in peace,” she said.

  His eyes flickered to her, his response clear on his face. She sighed and rose.

  “Let yourselves out.” Deidre returned to the kitchen and placed her wineglass in the sink.

  “I’m working on curing you,” Gabriel said.

  “Good luck. If the Ancient Immortal surgeon I had for years couldn’t do it with modern science and magic, and Death doesn’t know the answer, then I’m assuming it’s not gonna happen. I want to enjoy the rest of what I have, Gabriel.”

  “If there was a way, and I knew it, would you listen to me?” he asked as he approached the kitchen.

  “Depends. Are we talking a five percent chance of success or a ninety nine?” she returned. “Because I’ve been through everything in between. It takes a lot to prepare yourself to die, Gabriel, which you of all people should appreciate.”

  “You’d rather give up.” His voice was hard.

  Deidre looked up at him as he entered her personal space, at once flustered and irritated. She leaned back against the sink. Gabriel stopped in front of her, his heat and nearness like a subtle siren song that tried to lure her closer.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he said. “I want to hear the woman who lives by the motto of no apologies, no regrets, who told me once that her own soul searching taught her to live, doesn’t want my help turning that three months into eternity.”

  She heard his anger. He wasn’t bristling, as she expected. His tone was controlled, his features calm, his eyes the only indication of the fire in his blood. Whatever happened to him over the past few days, he was no longer willing to walk away or back down.

  “I can’t handle the chance that I might or might not have hope,” she replied. “You tear me away from the only stability I have in my life, expect me to change my view on the entire world overnight, reject me and now, you’re asking me to take a chance on something you can’t guarantee. What part of my … my pure confusion doesn’t make sense to you?”

  “You don’t trust me at all,” he said.

  “No shit. What reason have you given me to trust you?”

  Gabriel studied her. She’d expected to piss him off. If anything, his anger melted into the contemplation of a man who had a new problem he intended to solve.

  “She’s gotta hear it from you, Andre,” he said at last, stepping out from front of her. He leaned against the counter beside her, his arm touching hers. The deep connection and warmth moved through her.

  Deidre shifted away then eyed him when he reestablished the touch. His attention was on Andre. She let herself stay where she was, intrigued by the electricity and calmed by the heat of his body.

  “I think she should hear it from Wynn,” Andre said in clear disapproval.

  “Wynn won’t tell her.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “We’ve had the discussion. Twice.”

  Andre frowned. Deidre suspected they were baiting her. The mention of Wynn was almost enough for her to pounce, but she resisted.

  “It’s not my place,” Andre said. “You’re her mate by divine law. It falls on your shoulders.”

  “If there is any part of you that believes she’ll accept the truth if it comes from me, then you’re the worst judge of character I know,” Gabriel replied drily. “Wynn owes it to her.”

  “I know you’re messing with me,” she said through clenched teeth. “If Wynn had something to tell me, he would have.”

  “Right. Let me guess. Your friend di
dn’t come to see you this week, did he?” Gabriel asked without looking at her.

  “No one did. If anything, you probably didn’t tell him where I was. I know you don’t like him.”

  “You trust Wynn more than Gabriel,” Andre observed.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “If Wynn were to tell you something about your illness, good or bad, you’d listen?”

  “Of course.”

  Gabriel shifted in either frustration or anger. He didn’t break their touch, so she focused on Andre.

  “Gabriel,” Andre said. “Bring Wynn here.”

  “I don’t like that, Andre.”

  “She will not be open to you until this is cleared up.”

  Deidre clenched her jaw to keep from speaking. She wasn’t going to fall for whatever trick they played.

  “Son, bring him here,” Andre said with the gruffness of an older brother. “I’ll make sure he talks.”

  “Yeah, Gabe, bring him here,” Deidre echoed. “That way I know you haven’t killed him.”

  “When you hear what he has to tell you, you’ll wish I had, Deidre.”

  His quite regret made her uneasy. Through their connection, she actually felt the emotion. He was reluctant, because he didn’t want to hurt her. She broke the contact. Gabriel cared about her. Sometimes. She didn’t understand him.

  Without another word, he summoned a portal and left.

  “I should’ve taken the bait, huh?” she asked Andre.

  “It wasn’t bait, dear. You are between Death and well, Death, right now.”

  She laughed, not expecting the joke.

  “Would it have been easier on you if you heard it from either a complete stranger or someone you can’t quite figure out? Yes,” he continued. “But easier is not the choice we made. You’re right. You’ve been backed into a corner, and you’ve shut out everything. We have to open you back up.”

  “Sounds painful.”

  He didn’t deny it as he moved around the kitchen. He retrieved her glass from the basin of the sink and poured her more wine. Her hands were sweating as she accepted it. She deliberated over how strange it was to experience Gabriel’s emotions, even if briefly.

  Gabriel reappeared at the other end of the penthouse, trailed by Wynn. Her longtime friend was impossible to read, as usual, and she saw the similarity in features between him and Andre.

  “We’ll leave you to talk,” Andre said, raising his glass in greeting to his father.

  She watched, curious about how father and son might interact. One warm, the other cold, both self-assured, polished. Aside from the greeting, there was no warmth between them at all. Andre waved a wary Gabriel away from the kitchen. He took up a protective stance within direct sight of them, so still, he seemed like a statue.

  Deidre felt the heaviness in the air again, only she felt no confusion.

  “Hello, darling,” Wynn said as he entered the kitchen.

  Deidre felt herself relaxing around him. She kissed him on both cheeks then waited as he poured himself wine. He’d lied to her to get her to take him to the Immortals, but she still felt safer with him than anyone else. He’d had a million chances to harm her while she lay unconscious and vulnerable on the operating table and never did.

  Whatever it was they wanted him to tell her, it couldn’t be that bad.

  “I figured they’d killed you,” she said.

  “Not yet. It’s likely not too far down the road.” He swirled his wine as he leaned against the counter opposite her. “You look well. Very cute clothing.”

  “Thanks. Today was a good day,” she said firmly. “Until about an hour ago. Every time Immortals show up, things go right down the shitter.”

  He smiled. “Yes, well, I won’t be breaking that mold.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” she replied. “We’ve been friends for years, and you’ve been enamored by me for what? Two lifetimes at least?”

  “I think you know by now that even those who loved past-Deidre also hated her,” he said. “Her affect on those around her was the opposite of yours. She brought nothing but terror. You bring a smile to people’s faces.”

  “That’s sweet of you, Wynn.”

  “Yes and no. I didn’t know that when I met you this time around. I thought you were the same person as past-Deidre,” he started.

  She listened, dread fluttering through her, and sipped her wine.

  “It influenced how I handled your illness.”

  “So, what? You didn’t try as hard to cure me?” she asked, perplexed.

  “I went several steps farther. The experimental surgeries I performed the first six months were not geared towards curing you at all.”

  Her heart felt like it was slowing. Rationalizing that he was upset at past-Deidre like everyone else was, she wanted to stop Wynn before he said something worse. Something she wasn’t able to live with.

  “I am the brilliant surgeon you believe me to be,” he said. “Partially due to my magic. The power of an Ancient is beyond anything humans can understand. With a penchant for medicine and science and my magic, I can cure what others could not.”

  “Except for me,” she said.

  “Including you,” he said slowly. His gaze was steady as he spoke. “On my first surgery, I discovered what exactly was in your head. There’s a soul encased in a tumor.”

  “My soul?” she gasped.

  “No. I don’t know whose it is. I didn’t need to know,” he said too casually. “I was trying to figure out what was there, not to remove it, but to ensure no one else could either. Deidre,” he paused. “Your tumor was operable when I met you and for the entirety of first year. I told you the opposite from the onset and convinced you to let me conduct experimental surgeries.”

  She heard the words, but they made no sense. At her silence, he continued.

  “The surgeries that first year integrated the tumor into your brain using science and magic in a combination that even I was unable to reverse, when I finally realized you weren’t the same woman I recalled. All the surgeries the third year” he shook his head “desperate attempts by me to undo what I’d done.”

  He was quiet.

  “What made you change your mind?” she managed.

  “Seeing you for the beautiful person you are. You are now everything I wished you were in a past life.”

  She looked away. Her hands were shaking too hard for the wine. Wynn stretched across the distance to grasp it as it started to slide from her hands.

  “At least you tried to undo it, right?” she half-joked. “That counts for something.”

  “Deidre, love, you’re not hearing me,” Wynn’s voice was gentle. He set down his wine and settled his hands on her shoulders.

  Deidre swallowed hard. She was trying hard to push away the gathering emotions that told her Wynn was not the man she wanted, needed him to be. He was the remaining pillar of the foundation of the reality that existed before her trip to the beach. If he crumbled, so did she.

  “I didn’t just want you dead.” He spoke the words in the cool, detached tone that she recognized from their interactions at the hospital. “I wanted you to suffer a long, painful death and was willing to do whatever it took to make that a reality. My vengeance was so well-planned, Death himself cannot figure out how to save you. Deidre, I’m the one who will kill you.”

  Speechless for a long moment, she did nothing but stare at him. Her mental wheels began to move again as she grappled with not only what he’d done, but why Andre and Gabriel – who knew the truth long before she did – chose now to have it revealed to her.

  “I, um, think I need some air,” she said hoarsely. “A swan dive off the roof sounds good right about now.”

  “No, love,” Wynn replied. “Trust me one last time and go to the Sanctuary. It welcomes people like us.”

  People like us. “You mean sociopathic, indiscriminate killers who can’t sleep a night in their own beds without someone trying to kill them.”

  ?
??Exactly.”

  “I’m not her!”

  “I know that now. Not many others do.” Wynn released her shoulders and returned to his side of the kitchen.

  Deidre’s insides were cold. A familiar sense of calm filled her. It was the same sensation as when she opened the door to the guest bedroom in her apartment for the first time to see the mess the demons made of some poor human. It was the moment she realized her nightmare was beginning.

  “Tell them I’m going to the Sanctuary,” she said. The portal formed before she’d finished the sentence. Without looking back, Deidre walked through it and emerged on a familiar beach, the same one she’d ended up on when she leapt from her apartment building.

  At once, the rhythm and scent of the ocean soothed her. She’d missed nature while staying at the penthouse. Deidre sat down on the beach, mesmerized by the movement of the clear teal depths rushing ashore. Nothing made sense to her numbed mind, aside from the fragrant ocean, the fine sand that slid through her fingers like silk, and the warm-cool sensations caused by a combination of afternoon sun and sea breeze. The world outside her was calm, but the storm within her brewed. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on one knee, closing her eyes.

  “Am I right in assuming I’m the last person you want to see right now?” Gabriel asked quietly.

  “I want to be alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “So, what, you plan on riding in like a knight in shining armor to rescue the vulnerable damsel in distress?” she snapped.

  “Gods, woman.” Gabriel settled behind her, his long legs stretching out on either side of her. His arms circled hers, and he drew her against him. “You’ve never done what I wanted in either life. I don’t expect you to start now.”

  She wanted to tell him to leave, but whatever bond existed between them, it filled her with warmth and energy that quelled the meltdown she was about to have. His heartbeat was as steady as the tide, his strength needed when hers was fading. It felt too natural for him to hold her. She loved being in his arms, as much as she hated him right now!

  She relaxed and pressed her bare legs into the sand in front of her. Gabriel’s arms tightened around her body, his chin resting on her head. Deidre let her full weight settle against him. She’d never been able to sit like this with Logan. She’d never felt as secure or protected as she did this moment in the arms of the person who would claim her soul soon.

  They sat in silence throughout the afternoon, until the sun sank far enough out of the sky to perch on the ocean. Gabriel adjusted whenever she shifted but never let go, his strong arms wrapped around her possessively. With the sunset came a chilled breeze. Deidre pulled her knees up and pressed her back into Gabriel. She buried her feet in the sand to keep them warm.

  He said nothing, even as the last finger of light faded from the horizon and starlight replaced the sun. She didn’t expect him to sit with her for hours; she definitely didn’t expect him to stay solely for her comfort without trying to force anymore Immortal bullshit down her throat. He made it clear he didn’t have to curry her favor, not with the Immortal Code on his side and the arrangement he proposed.

  What did it mean that he didn’t have to be there but chose to?

  “Can you be away from your … underworld this long?” she asked at last.

  “The dead aren’t going anywhere.”

  Deidre snorted but forbade herself from laughing.

  “You wanna know something?”

  “No more secrets that make me cry,” she warned.

  “Trust me, it won’t. I’m doing such a shitty job as Death, I got locked out of the underworld,” he said, amused. “That’s the other issue I’ve been dealing with, when not hunting you down to make you cry.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you’re a lost soul, too, like the rest of the lake and me.”

  “Pretty much,” he replied.

  She shivered at the memory of her interaction with a single soul. What was it like to have the duty to protect billions of them?

  “Why did you choose today for me to learn about Wynn?” she whispered.

  He was quiet for a moment before responding. “I didn’t realize things were bad enough between you and me that you’d trust the man who hurt you over someone trying to help you.”

  “Now I don’t trust either of you.”

  “I can recover. He can’t.”

  She wasn’t going to admit out loud he was right. There was nothing Wynn could ever do to make things right. She’d always known there were deep, dangerous levels of potential with Gabriel, if he ever figured out whether he wanted her or not.

  “I feel lost,” she murmured.

  “You’re not.” He squeezed her. “Think of me as your anchor. Something you want badly to shove overboard.”

  “You’re so not funny!” she said, unable to stop the laugh that slipped free.

  “We have a similar sense of humor, I think.”

  “You’re locked out of the underworld, herding lost souls into a lake and yet you’re here trying to win over the woman destined to be your mate by divine laws but who doesn’t trust you,” she summarized.

  “Is it working?”

  “You’ve taken the first step on a very long path. At this rate, I’ll be dead long before you succeed.”

  “I’m one step ahead of where I was this morning.”

  “You took that as encouragement, didn’t you?” She twisted to meet his gaze, frowning.

  Gabriel smiled.

  “Aren’t you worried?” she asked. “About the souls and your issues? I mean, why spend the day with me?”

  “I’m where I need to be,” he replied simply.

  She studied him. He was no longer the conflicted man she’d met on a beach a few days before. Was he still the reluctant mate that didn’t know what to do with her? She didn’t ask for fear of discovering he was going to stop playing his keep-away game and offer her an arrangement she couldn’t refuse. Deidre sighed and sank back into his arms.

  “Did Andre figure anything out?” she asked in a level voice.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “You were bluffing? There was no option you were considering?” Anger fluttered through her.

  “There is. But you were right to say what you did at the apartment. I need to respect you enough not to provide false hope. I can’t be half-assed about this. I have to look at a few more angles before I can determine if the option we found is feasible.” He spoke with thoughtfulness.

  “I appreciate that,” she murmured. “You realize if you save me, you’ll have a much larger issue.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You’ll have to court me like a normal person.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said in a husky tone.

  Her heart quickened. Was he capable of being genuinely interested in her as more than a duty? She wasn’t willing to consider it, not when there was the issue of her pending demise between here and there.

  “Gabriel, are the issues you’re having with the underworld and souls and whatever, are those issues my fault?” she asked.

  “Not directly.”

  “You said that before. What does it mean?”

  “The deity you were in a past life started the chain of events that put us here by breaking laws from the time-before-time. The underworld cracked, and the demons came to claim the souls. Past-Deidre walked out and left me to clean up the mess, which I did poorly. I managed to get the demons out and repair the fissure. By that point, other things fell apart that I couldn’t fix. I was exiled here,” he explained. “I have to address the issues in my domain on the mortal world before I’ll be allowed to return and finish repairing the underworld.”

  “That’s a yes,” she said, troubled. “I’m directly responsible for all of this.”

  “You aren’t. Past-Deidre is.”

  “Is there really
a difference? I mean, I thought there was … is there?”

  “Absolutely. You are two separate people. You look alike, but you couldn’t be more different.”

  “Then why is a crap ton of her bad karma killing me?”

  “Don’t look at it that way, sweetheart,” he said so gently she felt tears prick her eyes. “Some events seem connected but really aren’t. You were the victim of someone who couldn’t see what was right before him. Pretty much all of us made the same mistake when we first met you.”

  “I guess it really doesn’t matter. The past is the past and I’m fucked either way,” she said. “Gabriel, if you can’t find an option to save me, will you swear to let me live out what I have left in peace?”

  “You mean alone.”

  “I mean happy, whether that’s alone or not.”

  “Yes, Deidre. I promise you that.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “Did you really come here tonight to start trying to win me over?”

  “I don’t know.” His response came after a lengthy pause.

  “You sat with me for hours and don’t know why?” she asked, amused.

  “I have no fucking clue what to do with you.”

  “Good,” she said, satisfied beyond her expectations. “You confuse the hell out of me, too. Though of the two of us, I’m the one who can’t read minds, so it makes sense I’m clueless.”

  “I’ve only read your mind once.”

  “I know that how?”

  The sea breeze seemed to pierce her skull and ruffle through her brain. She shuddered.

  “That’s what it feels like when I read your mind,” he said.

  “Weird. What did you see?”

  “Most people don’t want to know,” he replied with a chuckle. “There are conscious thoughts that you’re aware of and subconscious ones that you’re not. Emotions, random sensations, memories, disjointed images. It’s like walking from reality into a dream and back again.”

  “Can you make sense of it while you’re in there?”

  “Only because of what I am.”

  “Tell me what’s in my head,” she ordered. “I can’t sort through it.”

  “It’s like someone dropped a stone in the lake. The impact was noticeable, but it’s the ripples that are tearing you apart.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  “You’re in denial about Wynn. You’re in denial about dying. You’ve accepted the Immortals and even taken on the burden of wanting to right the wrongs of past-Deidre. You don’t want to die, but the idea of living terrifies you as well.”

  She listened, dismayed but also interested in someone interpreting the insanity of her mind in a way she could grasp. She held her breath, suspecting what might come next.

  “You feel the same way towards me that I do towards you.” There was laughter in Gabriel’s voice.

  “Which is …”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m guessing I confound you the same way you do me. One minute, telling me you don’t want anything to do with me beyond your duty and the next, sitting on the beach with me for hours because you’re worried I’ll find a tall building to dive off of,” she grumbled. “Am I right?”

  “Close.”

  “Then why …” she stopped.

  “You’re not ready,” he said wisely. “I saw how much you don’t trust me, too. We have a long way to go.”

  “And no time to get there,” she murmured. Something Darkyn told her returned to the forefront of her thoughts. He’d asked her if she’d take herself out of the equation before she hurt Gabriel. Katie was convinced Gabriel had managed to love past-Deidre; was he therefore in danger of falling for her? Before this talk, she didn’t think so. He was too cagey for her to understand what he felt.

  Some small part of him cared enough to sit with her tonight. There was much more to Gabriel than what she saw. Darkyn saw it somehow, and Deidre suspected Gabriel’s here-gone approach to her was his way of hiding how much he did care.

  Chapter Thirteen