Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal)

Death was almost seven feet tall, built more solid than a tree trunk with hair and eyes darker than a moonless night. The weapons lining his body and tucked into pockets of his trench coat were items of comfort rather than necessity; his hands alone had ended the lives of more humans and Immortals than there were stars in the sky he stared into. Dawn lined the horizon in faint yellow. He watched his expelled breath float away from him, his calm features hiding the anger in his blood.

  “Cancel all contracts. We’ve got to figure out this shit,” he told the female death-dealer beside him.

  “Gabriel, why does this keep happening?” the red-headed assassin asked, frustration in her voice.

  His gaze went from the sky to her to the body at her feet. A competent, methodical assassin, she didn’t make the mistake of trying to collect from someone not on the list. And yet, this wasn’t the human she came for. Just like every other soul collector Gabriel sent out the past week, Harmony had gone on a mission and returned empty-handed. It was better than the alternative: returning with the wrong soul, which almost happened twice today.

  Immortal Code, Rule 5329: Death shall not knowingly claim a soul not on the list, he recited silently.

  In the matter of seven days, Gabriel had come close to breaking more Immortal Codes governing Death’s actions in the mortal world than his predecessor did over hundreds of thousands of millennia. His predecessor, referred to as past-Death by his collectors, made exactly two mistakes, the second of which landed Gabriel his new gig ruling the underworld. Four months after becoming Death, Gabriel was trying to salvage what he could of the underworld as it crashed and burned. He followed all the rules in the Code, but he couldn’t help thinking he was doing something …wrong.

  “I went to the soul I heard,” the assassin said. “I swear it. I came right here, where the radar brought me. It’s not here. This guy isn’t even on the list.” She wiped her face and paced. “I failed you. I messed up.”

  “You didn’t fail me, Harmony,” Gabriel said. “You broke no part of the Immortal Code, and you followed our procedures. The radar led you astray. It’s outside of your control.” Like every other part of my life. This part he kept silent for fear of spooking someone he was supposed to be leading.

  “But if this guy wasn’t supposed to die tonight, where is the soul I came for?”

  They were in the middle of the desert in New Mexico. It was cold, sandy – and completely void of any other signs of life for miles. Death-dealers operated off a sense of soul radar that pulled them like magnets to the lives that were on Death’s list to be ended. Except, a week ago, all the radars of his army of grim reapers had gone haywire. Sometimes, the souls they sought were a few feet from the ones they claimed. Sometimes, the humans or Immortals targeted for extermination or soul extraction were on the other side of the world.

  “I don’t know this guy from Adam,” he said.

  “Adam who?” she asked, confused.

  Gabe glanced at her. “It was an attempt at levity.”

  “This is no time for a joke!”

  “He’ll show up downstairs eventually,” he said, referring to his underworldly domain. “Everyone does.”

  Harmony’s frown was fierce. Not many people appreciated a sense of humor crafted over millennia as a sanctioned killer for Death. Most Immortals had no mirth in the first place. As the sole living resident of the underworld with human origins, Gabriel was often reminded of how different he remained. Right now, he was too frazzled to know what else to do aside from make a joke to ease some of the tension.

  “If you feel the need to expel me for almost breaking the Code, I will go where you bid,” Harmony said in a quieter voice. “Or cast myself into the Lake of Souls.”

  “The Lake’s at capacity,” he replied.

  “Very well. When the Lake has subsided, I will throw myself in.” The determination in Harmony’s voice left him no doubt she’d do it.

  Gabriel chuckled. “No, you won’t. Relax. Thank you for calling me.”

  “I must. It’s my duty.”

  “I’m more concerned with why this guy has no soul. The demons beat us here again,” Gabriel shifted. “The last thing I need is an Army of Souls in the hands of those bastards. I can’t figure out how they’re tracking the dead.”

  “Darkyn is very powerful.” Harmony’s voice held a hushed note of reverence that irked Gabriel.

  “He’s a demon lord but not a deity,” he pointed out.

  “Oh, sorry Gabriel. I keep forgetting you are now.”

  “Thanks,” he said drily.

  “I didn’t mean … you’re really trying … um, and doing your best.” She met his gaze at last, a red flush creeping across her face. With forest colored eyes and an athletic body, she towered over most men. The top of her head reached his chin.

  “Appreciate the encouragement.”

  “Sorry, Gabe,” she mumbled. “Where do I sleep tonight?”

  He assessed her. While he wanted nothing more than to kill past-Death over and over for fucking him over, he was forced to admit the death-dealers that survived the recent demon attacks were loyal, honorable and ruthless. All traits he admired. His predecessor chose the best, like the cautious and steady Immortal awaiting his decision. There was no spontaneity – or surprises – to her. He never had to wonder how many men were rotating through her bed or when she was planning to stab him in the back or decipher the riddles she gave him as answers to important questions. His last lover – the only other he’d ever taken – had been the opposite of Harmony.

  He never wanted to deal with the unexpected in his personal life again. At least, he thought he didn’t when he invited Harmony to his bed. Most nights, she wasn’t enough to settle his restless blood. He had sex and went back to work, unable to sleep knowing all the issues he couldn’t fix. Though he never felt that way sleeping with past-Death, he valued trusting the woman in his bed over potential rejection.

  “Where you’ve slept every night for the past two months,” he answered.

  She appeared relieved.

  “I’ll be late,” he said. “Don’t wait up. Grab this guy and take him downstairs in case his soul pops up later.”

  “Will do.” Harmony bent and lifted the dead man in a fireman’s carry. She called forth a portal, and what looked like a cave opened in the air before them.

  Gabriel followed her into it. Portals to various places in the mortal and underworlds glowed in the in-between shadow realm. Mortal portals were like sunshine, the underworld the color of a storm cloud, and the portal to Hell blacker than Gabe’s eyes. Harmony disappeared through the gray portal while Gabe took one of the yellow portals.

  He emerged at the Caribbean Sanctuary, one of four places that connected the mortal and immortal worlds. Governed by Death, the Sanctuaries were located on islands protected by magic and tended by convents of Immortal nuns, who helped any who came to them.

  The room of the Sanctuary where he materialized consisted of nothing more than a lectern holding a massive book possessed by a long-dead Oracle. In its pages, the events of the Past were recorded, the Present written and the Future a blur of potential outcomes.

  Not that he could see the Future. He’d hoped to be granted the same level of power as his predecessor. Instead, he’d found his vision unchanged. Gabe strode to the lectern and watched the words of the Present being written across the pages. They leapt from the pages to create visions before him that then swirled and turned back into words. He could see the Past and Present. Never the Future.

  The balmy morning breeze drifting in from the small window was fragrant with the scents of the ocean and bread from the Sanctuary’s kitchens.

  “Any news today?” he asked the Oracle.

  More visions formed. These were of demons gathering the souls of dead mortals while death-dealers missed the lives meant to be ended. The Oracle was re-writing the present, based on who was killed and who had lived that wasn’t supposed to.

  “Yeah, I know,” he sai
d. “Anything more useful?”

  The images returned to the pages. The Oracle was quiet, scribbling words. As he watched, the words reached the page on the right, the one reserved for the Future. Interested, he read the message addressed to him.

  Did you not receive my first summons? You cannot avoid me forever.

  The scribbling stopped with an image that left him irritated. What kind of deity added a smiley face to its messages?

  Gabriel crossed his arms. Fate was getting more persistent. Gabriel was too busy to answer. At least, he told himself he was. He didn’t look forward to meeting the deity past-Death considered viler than the Dark One.

  A knock kept him from cursing the book and Fate out loud. The door opened to reveal Daniela, the headmistress, a severe-looking woman wearing the brown robes of the convent.

  “You are in time for tea,” she said. “Unless you want to blow up my Sanctuary again?”

  Immortal Code, Rule 35: Sanctuaries and the shadow world between places are part of Death’s domain to protect.

  “Tea sounds good.” Gabriel sighed. No one ever spoke to his predecessor that way. They’d been either enamored by her beauty or terrified of her, rightly so.

  The stern woman whirled away from the door, leaving it open for him to follow. With a last look at the Oracle, Gabe trailed. His gaze took in the new wall they’d installed after the last one was destroyed by his best friend, Rhyn. The ultimate peacekeepers, the nuns running the Sanctuary would likely never let him forget the day the half-demon took out their wall.

  The cafeteria where she led him looked medieval at best, a stone hall with lines of crude picnic tables and dark hearths. The only difference was the electricity powering lights in the heavy iron and wood chandeliers overhead and the intercom system installed into the walls beside each entrance. Located right off the kitchens, the cafeteria was awash with the smells of bread, fruit pies and the jerk-spiced meat the Caribbean was renowned for.

  She poured them each a cup of steaming tea. Gabriel didn’t touch his.

  They sat and stared at each other. A man of few words, Gabriel hadn’t gotten used to the political side of his job yet. Someone his size with his specific skills didn’t ask for favors or need to be polite. Past-Death had only played nice with those she needed something from. Thus far, he didn’t know what it was he was supposed to need from the nun in front of him, and he was too cautious to set this bridge on fire.

  “You don’t even like tea,” Daniela accused him finally.

  “No.”

  “Then why do you come here?”

  “I’m maintaining Death’s routine.”

  Daniela’s eyes narrowed. “Friendship isn’t a routine.”

  “She had no friends,” he replied. “And the ones she did, she fucked over twice as bad as her enemies, like dumping her job on me with no instruction manual.”

  “The Code is an instruction manual.”

  “There’s nothing in the Code about what I’m dealing with,” he said.

  “What are you dealing with?” Daniela folded her hands in her lap, her irritation at him replaced by interest.

  Gabriel hesitated. “Our radars are broken. We’re missing souls and fighting off demons to get to the dead.”

  “And the Lake of Souls?”

  “Still bubbling.”

  “Two very separate issues,” she said, pensive. “Maybe the problem is you. A former-human running Death’s domain? What’s the world coming to?”

  “Not helpful,” he said. “The Immortal Code, rule seventy four states that my status as a former-human has no relevance, once I was made Immortal.”

  “It was an attempt at humor, but I can see you have none,” she replied flatly. “If Andre the Ancient was still around, he’d be able to help you with the demons. He was the most gifted tracker in the history of Immortals.”

  “Also not helpful, since he’s dead-dead.”

  “You’re Death. Bring him back.”

  Was she joking or not? She had to know raising the dead-dead broke thousands of rules! What little patience he had was waning fast. Gabriel stared at her stonily.

  Daniela shook her head. “Past-Death would’ve figured it out. But if you can’t do your job, then go back to the way it was originally, before past-Deaths hired on all that help. You fetch souls instead of the death-dealers. When in doubt, go back to the basics.”

  Surprised at the casual wisdom of her words, Gabriel was quiet.

  “Use your compass instead of the radar. Maybe it’ll reset things.” Daniela sipped her tea.

  “What compass?”

  “The soul compass. It was what she used long before your time. I’m sure she left it there for you.”

  Gabriel didn’t say what he wanted, that if his predecessor knew he needed something, she’d probably torched it before she left. He’d roamed the palace that was his home many times before returning to live out of the tiny cabin he preferred in the Everdark forest. He never thought twice about searching the rooms for something he didn’t know existed.

  “That’s probably why she told me about it,” Daniela smiled. “To tell you. I wondered at the time. Maybe I’m your instruction manual.”

  He looked at her hard. It wasn’t out of the realm of the possible that the information he needed was hidden in some sort of sadistic treasure hunt created by the sociopathic goddess who held the title of Death before him.

  “You miss her, don’t you?” Daniela asked.

  “Not the way you think,” he answered, standing. “I’ll see you next time.”

  “You’re welcome,” Daniela said.

  Intent on hunting down his first real lead since things started going wrong, Gabe called open a portal to return to his underworld and the shopping mall-sized palace in the center of the living forest. The palace acted as a barracks for his assassins, who were trudging in after he ordered their contracts all cancelled. They moved out of his way as he strode through the wide hallways to the stairwell leading to the top floor, Death’s floor.

  He stopped in front of the closed door to the massive set of chambers that were supposed to be his. He’d entered twice since assuming his duties. There were too many memories inside, and he hadn’t been able to return. Which past-Death probably knew, meaning any secrets she hid were within.

  “I’m done with you,” he muttered. He opened the door to the rooms he knew as well as his cabin. After all, he spent much time here, making love to her on the round bed down the hallway to his left.

  It was the last place he wanted to visit, so it became the first place he went. Gabe paused as he entered the bedroom. It was bright, the windows open to the soft underworld breeze and curtains fluttering. The room was utterly feminine, from the pale colors to the silk and lace accents and carved furniture. It smelled sweet and spicy, a scent that always reminded him of pecan pie.

  He frowned, noticing for the first time that the bed was unmade. It wasn’t like past-Death to leave something a mess. Not that it mattered. She probably knew it was her last day and decided not to make the bed.

  He stopped in front of a door near the far corner. It bore another note from Fate, written in elegant script on parchment and pinned to the door with a knife. Gabe pried the knife free and tossed it on the bed, reading the message.

  Come on in and meet me.

  Fate wasn’t going to leave him alone, but this door …

  Gabriel stepped back. He’d been everywhere in the underworld and mortal worlds, but never through this door. His predecessor once told him that if he entered, he’d become like her in every way. He’d loved and hated her his whole life, a beautiful woman with neither mercy nor honor, who viewed mortals and Immortals alike as toys.

  No, Gabriel would never go through that door. The fact Fate wanted him to made him more determined, for past-Death was always in some sort of ugly struggle against Fate.

  Shaking his head, he walked once around the room, trying to determine where she’d hide something he needed. Somewh
ere he’d never look otherwise. Gabriel went to her jewelry box. Considering she lived for hundreds of millennia and her status as a deity, she didn’t own anything fancy. Her jewelry box was tiny and wooden. It looked ancient, and he opened it carefully. It contained three items: a tarnished ring, a soul and a delicate silver necklace with a compass on the end. He lifted the compass first. Instead of pointing to the four directions, its edges were lined with ancient symbols he took to be writing from the time-before-time. He couldn’t read them.

  Guessing the compass only worked in the mortal world, Gabe emplaced it around his neck before picking up the green emerald – the form a soul took after death – and peering at it. Whoever owned the soul, he or she was important to find their way to Death’s jewelry box. He replaced it and picked up the ring. It was old, silver, and covered with Celtic knots. He’d given it to her hundreds of years ago. She’d rejected him but kept the ring.

  The memories were closing in on him again. He’d loved her once, and he would’ve bet his soul she loved him. When he did turn over his soul to her, she dumped him.

  Immortal Code, Rule 2,000,010: Death shall not return a soul It has claimed.

  He put the ring back and closed the jewelry box, wishing he could shut off his memories as easily.

  He left for the mortal world and emerged in an alley in some large city. The list – a scrolling queue of names that lined his left forearm – was always changing. The next name up for claiming appeared. He plucked the compass from his chest and waited to see what it did.

  Nothing.

  Gabe dropped it and touched his forearm, willing the soul radar to guide him to the right place. A portal opened in front of him and he crossed through it, emerging in what looked like the Pacific Northwest. If the radar was working, the soul would be within a few feet of him.

  There was nothing at all within a few feet of him, aside from knee-high wild flowers waving happily in the spring breeze.

  “Dammit!” he roared. He flung one of his knives at the tree line, not caring if he hit anything or not.

  The compass grew hot against his chest. He looked down and saw the arrow pointed towards one of the symbols. The name on his arm lit up again. He went through the routine: touch, portal, emerge somewhere new. This time, he was on a dirt road near a tiny village.

  There was a body at his feet. He’d never been so thrilled to see a dead man as he was that moment. It was not just any dead man, but the right one. The name on his forearm disappeared as he knelt.

  “Come out, you little bastard,” he said. It wasn’t the normal greeting Death gave souls, but he was too frustrated to care.

  Green smoke swirled from the man’s ears and mouth, forming a fog around Gabe’s hand before crystallizing into a small emerald.

  “One down,” he said with a glance at his forearm. He didn’t bother to try to count how many were waiting for him. He sensed the silent appearance of his friend and drew a breath. “I hope your week was better than mine.”

  “Probably not.”

  Gabe shifted in time to see the portal close behind the half-demon, Rhyn, whose muscular form, crackling aura and cunning, liquid silver eyes sent most people running the opposite direction.

  “Did you send a message?” Gabe asked, frowning.

  “Five. A day,” Rhyn replied. “Maybe six. I hate waiting.”

  “I’ll add the message system to the list of shit I have to fix.”

  “I’m stacking up bodies for you. No rush. Whenever you’ve got time.”

  “I’ll send someone up to collect,” Gabe replied. “You at the castle again?”

  “Demon free for a month.” Rhyn’s chuckle was like a low growl, his sharp eyes traveling over Gabriel in what Gabe knew was brotherly concern. “You look like shit.”

  “Haven’t slept in weeks,” Gabe grunted and rose, tucking the soul in his pocket. “What’s up?”

  “I have a name for you,” Rhyn continued. “Logan Myers.”

  Gabe glanced at his forearm. “On the list. You need him dead-dead?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Rhyn muttered.

  Gabriel stared at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to keep a secret.”

  “We spotted some strange demon activity last week. Shape-shifter demons, Gabe. They’re stalking a couple of mortals.”

  “Hate those things,” Gabe said.

  “One of them might be targeting Logan Myers,” Rhyn said. “We’re watching, but it’s not easy balancing the Council, demons and a pregnant mate.”

  Gabe smiled at the look on Rhyn’s face. “I need to visit more often.”

  “Dude, you have no fucking idea. I’d take a herd of demons over this shit. One day, she’s begging me to fuck her every five minutes. The next, it’s my fault she’s gained twenty pounds. I told her to lay off the ice cream. Been on the couch for a week. I don’t know where you’re going, Gabe, but take me with you.”

  Gabe laughed. Despite Rhyn’s frustration, there was affection on his face as he talked about his mate.

  “I admit, I’d rather deal with the shit I’m dealing with than a woman,” Gabe said.

  “Still with Harmony?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmmm.” Rhyn was studying him again.

  “Don’t look at me like that. She’s a good girl. Stable and ...”

  “Boring?”

  “I was going to say drama-free,” Gabe replied.

  “Whatever.”

  “Like you know shit about relationships.”

  “I know that you’ll know when it’s right,” Rhyn shot back. “I’ve been fucked since then, but I got my Katie. You need your Katie. You’re driving yourself into the grave.”

  “Good one,” Gabe said, appreciative of his friend’s humor.

  Finding a mate wasn’t a priority, not when he was trying to fix his world. He’d watched Rhyn and Katie’s relationship unfold from its rocky beginning, when Katie inadvertently rescued Rhyn from his sentence in Hell. Gabriel gave up his soul to help Rhyn and would do it again, especially seeing how strong their bond had become. Their world was far from perfect, but they were handling it together, as a team.

  Immortal Code, Rule 3: The bond between an Immortal and its mate is sacred, unbreakable.

  While he envied them, Gabriel really didn’t want to go through all that shit with his own mate. Life was simpler without emotional attachments. Aside from drama, it was going to take half an eternity to straighten out the underworld without the distraction of a woman in his life.

  “When do you need Logan taken care of?” he asked.

  “When you have the time. We’re trying to figure out what Darkyn is doing planting a shape-shifter demon on the mortal realm,” Rhyn said, referring to the demon lord who wanted both their heads on pikes.

  “I’ll send someone up tonight.”

  “Uh, yeah, this guy has a connection to you. You need to go.”

  Rhyn was trying to be casual about it, but the half-demon had never asked Gabe for anything and was incapable of subtlety. This was important. Gabe had never heard of Logan Myers and didn’t know what connection he might have, considering he had no living relatives or friends, aside from Rhyn and Katie.

  “I don’t know this guy from Adam,” Gabe said then waited.

  Rhyn grinned then laughed.

  “It’s funny, right?” Gabe said.

  “Yeah.”

  Satisfied someone got his humor when none of the death-dealers did, Gabe grew thoughtful. They were all serious, absorbed with following the Immortal Code and performing their duties. They lived for nothing more. He’d been like that once. He changed so gradually, he didn’t notice how much different he’d become, until he realized how much he was enjoying talking to his friend.

  Rhyn was right. The death-dealers were boring to talk to.

  “You’re not gonna tell me why?” he asked with the same casual tone Rhyn used.

  “Sometimes the head of the Council That Was Seven has to
be discreet.” Rhyn said through clenched teeth with a look of distaste.

  “I can’t get used to the political side of the job, either,” Gabe said. “And you’re welcome for rescuing you, and Katie and your unborn hatchling from the demons and –“

  “He’s connected to your ex-girlfriend.” Rhyn threw up his hands in surrender. “You didn’t hear it from me. I’m out.”

  Gabe watched him disappear through a portal, not understanding. He only had one ex-girlfriend, past-Death, and she was presumed dead. She had to be, or he wouldn’t have been able to assume her role as Death. On the smallest of chances she was alive, she would’ve had to find a loophole to surrender her duty without losing her soul. While he could see her figuring it out, he couldn’t see her choosing the mortal world. Her biggest issue with him had always been what she perceived as his weakness: his humanity and compassion for others.

  Unless she came to the mortal world to torment more humans. That he saw happening.

  He shook his head. Though he didn’t know what connection past-Death had to some human, he trusted Rhyn above everyone. If nothing else, he’d check out this Logan guy this evening and see whatever it was Rhyn wanted him to see. In the meantime, he’d learn to use the compass better and decipher the symbols.

  Twelve hours and forty three souls later, Gabriel gave up on the icons. No matter where the compass pointed, it led him to the correct body. The symbols were useless to him. He knelt over the latest body with a glance at his forearm.

  Logan Myers had been dead for a couple of days at least. His body was hidden in the brush near a beach. Rhyn was right about the demons; Gabe smelled demon blood and saw the gashes across Logan’s throat. He hadn’t been attacked by anything remotely human or animal. A demon tore off his neck and face and drained him of blood. It’d be hard to spot the shape-shifter demon posing as Logan with his face shredded.

  “At least they didn’t eat you,” Gabe consoled the dead man quietly. “Hard to get a soul that way. Come on out.”

  The green fog appeared at his words. He watched the green gem form in his palm and rose. He put it with the others in his pocket. The sound of the ocean was calming under the full moon, the steady ebb and flow of waves drawing him to sit on the beach.

  Why was he disappointed not to find …more? Some reminder of past-Death, a sign she cared for him, a hint at the connection between this Logan and the woman Gabriel knew.

  “The soul radar takes me to you, if nowhere else.”

  Gabe glanced up at Harmony’s voice. He patted the sand beside him.

  “Business or pleasure?” he asked.

  “Business,” his second-in-command and current lover said, seating herself.

  “What broke this time?”

  “The portal. I was delivering your orders and tried to get home but couldn’t.”

  “How many are trapped up here?” he asked, irritated.

  “Maybe twenty.”

  “I’ll get it fixed,” he said. He had no clue how and hoped the portal still worked for him. After all, the underworld was his. It couldn’t deny its master.

  Harmony was looking at him. “Don’t you want to try it?”

  “In a minute. I’m taking a break.”

  “Oh.”

  He doubted his night – or his next few thousand years – was going to get any better than this. He glanced at Harmony, whose green gaze was on the ocean. She was gorgeous in the moonlight, and desire stirred his blood.

  “Since we might not make it back tonight, you wanna, you know, do something here?” he asked.

  “There are four hundred and thirty three people within five kilometers waiting for Death,” she said. “Though how accurate –”

  “I wasn’t talking about work,” he said.

  “You mean…” She was skeptical. “On the beach? Is that where humans do it?”

  “Never mind,” he said. For some reason, he felt more disappointed. He stood and offered her his hand. “We’ll try the portal.” He pulled her up and called a portal. The gray door to the underworld was present for him.

  “I tried several times,” Harmony said. “A few of us did.”

  “I believe you. Go home. I’ll find the others.”

  She hesitated. “Gabriel, I can stay with you, on the beach. If you want.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “We’ll have time after I rescue the rest of the assassins.”

  “I’ll wait up.” She smiled and walked through the portal to the underworld.

  Gabe faced the ocean. His gaze went back to the dead man Rhyn wanted him to find. Puzzled, restless, he returned and crouched beside Logan Myers. If Rhyn’s Immortals were watching Logan, they’d have known he was dead when Rhyn found Gabe this morning. What was he supposed to be looking for?

  With another look around, Gabe left. He had twenty assassins to rescue and countless souls waiting to be claimed. He’d come back later.

  Duty first, as usual.

  Chapter Three