“He kept insisting we were married,” I whispered.
Andre’s nostrils flared. “Not yet you’re not.”
“Why did I live?” I asked, searching his eyes.
Andre shook his head. “I don’t know Gabrielle. The connection between us was gone. Severed. I swear you were dead. Perhaps the knife missed your heart? Perhaps the other fates interceded from afar? For all we know, it could’ve been divine intervention.”
My head snapped up at that. “Does the big guy upstairs even do that sort of thing?” I asked, remembering my thoughts in those critical moments before I left the devil’s presence.
Andre gave me a long look. “All the damn time.”
Like Andre warned, I got sleepy as soon as the sky began to lighten. By then he’d fed, and we’d both washed off the remnants of our night from hell.
He took my hand. “If you want, you can sleep with me.”
I glanced up at him. Was that vulnerability in Andre’s voice?
“Is it … going to be weird?” I asked.
Andre ran a hand along the back of his neck. He was being bashful—bashful! “It might take some getting used to,” he admitted. “When I sleep, I don’t move at all—not even a heartbeat or a breath of air. It can be disconcerting.”
As disconcerting as the evening we just had? I think not.
“I’d like that,” I said, smiling shyly.
Andre flashed me a heart-stopping grin, and I realized that I’d managed to say just the right thing.
I was alive, with my soulmate, and back in the world of the living. Perhaps I wasn’t so cursed after all.
Chapter 31
Oh I was cursed all right.
I looked around me. I was back in the woods outside Bran Castle, barefoot and in that same stupid white gown.
“Dang it all, I thought I’d at least get a single night’s sleep before having to see this hellhole again.” And I do mean hellhole literally.
“You can never escape me.” The devil’s voice came from behind me.
I stifled my shriek and closed my eyes. My stomach clenched painfully and my hands began to shake. Fear pumped through my veins and my skin felt like it wanted to shed itself from my body. Anything to get away from the being at my back.
I couldn’t say whether it was the devil or me that had changed, but we were back to our former relationship.
“It’s both of us,” he said, his voice calm and even. I wouldn’t have thought him upset at all, except that I could feel the waves of malice rolling off of him.
I open my eyes and turned to face him. My hair stood on end. He watched me with barely contained rage simmering in his eyes.
“You broke your promise,” he said.
“Yeah, well now you know how it feels to get tricked. Not very nice, is it?”
He moved faster than I could follow, grabbing my neck and shoving me against a nearby tree. “You need to learn your place. Trying to teach me a lesson will only earn you lots and lots of pain. And to my ears your cries will be sweeter than your music, siren.”
My whole body trembled under his hand, my muscles seizing up only to spasm at random intervals. I clawed at the hand squeezing my neck.
“Because you are my consort, I will give you this warning: I promised that I’d betray every one of your secrets to those who’d wish you harm. And I will make good on that promise.”
The clause of our earlier agreement suddenly made a whole lot of sense.
“Ah,” he said, watching my reaction, “you finally get it. You will end up at my side one way or another. Did you really think that I’d let you go so easily?”
No, but I still thought I’d pulled off my grand escape.
“You, my little bird, have quite a few unsavory secrets, and tomorrow, they will be in the hands of those who’d wish you ill.”
I swallowed. I had the kind of secrets that could get me killed, which was exactly what the devil wanted.
“How would you know my secrets and my enemies?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is someone worried?”
“No.” Yes. I lifted my chin. “Twice you’ve tried to kidnap me and force me into hell, and twice you’ve failed,” I said. “What makes you think a little negative publicity will bring me back to you?”
A slow, sinful smile spread across the devil’s face, and I knew—I knew—I was doomed from that expression alone. “I did better this time didn’t I? Making you believe I was a gentleman. Maybe next time you will believe me. Maybe next time I’ll mean it, too.”
I eyed the monster in front of me. The devil was talking in riddles. Riddles that made me realize that I couldn’t understand a creature as complex as him.
The devil’s grip on my neck relaxed, and then he let me go.
I staggered away from him, shivers racking up down my body.
“Consort.”
My body went rigid at his tone. I threw a glance over my shoulder.
The devil assessed me with a nefarious twinkle in his eye. “The apocalypse is coming, and you’re a key player in it. Enjoy your final days as a mortal. Once they’re over, you’re mine.”
I was in Andre’s jet when the news hit.
I’d stretched out along one of the couches, my head in Andre’s lap, and I attempted to read a book while Andre played with my hair. My eyes might have fluttered shut once or twice, and I might have let out a contented sigh each time Andre’s hand strayed from my hair to caress my cheek.
Since last night we’d been like this—constantly touching. Whether it was a product of Andre’s blood running through my veins, our strengthening bond, or the fact that I nearly died, we’d come to some sort of understanding that we couldn’t live—or die—without one another.
“How many times have you reread the sentence you’re on?” Andre whispered. I could hear the smile in his voice. The punk knew what he was doing to me.
I closed the book and tried to swat him with it. He caught it and plucked it from my hands.
His face replaced the lines of text as he leaned over me. “I think you must’ve come back from the dead a little bit wickeder. The Gabrielle I knew never would’ve tried to bludgeon me with a book.”
Just as I sat up and narrowed my eyes at him, he pulled out a small present from the bag sitting on his other side. “Now that I’ve got your attention, I wanted to give you your very late Christmas present.”
My eyes widened. I glanced down at the gift, and then back up at Andre. “But I don’t have a gift for you.”
Andre cupped my chin and drew my face forward. “Then it’s a good thing your presence is gift enough.”
“You always have the perfect line, don’t you?” I accused.
He flashed me a wolfish grinned. “It’s one of the perks of living as long as I have.” He let my chin go and handed me the box.
I stared down at it.
“Open it,” he encouraged.
I hesitantly slid a finger beneath the edge of the wrapping paper and began to tear through it. Under the wrapping was a thin cardboard box. I flashed Andre a curious look before I opened the lid.
Inside was a plane ticket to … “Los Angeles?” I asked, glancing up.
“To visit your mother for spring break.”
“But how will I explain this to her?” I asked.
Andre smiled. “Leanne’s your cover. As far as your mother’s concerned, her family is paying for you, her, and Oliver to visit California for spring break. I did mention that she and Oliver will be joining you, didn’t I?”
A slow smile spread across my face, even as my eyebrows pinched together. “How could you have possibly known … ?”
The satellite flight phone next to Andre rang, interrupting my question. Andre winked at me, grinning, and I caught
a flash of fang.
He grabbed the phone and brought it to his ear. “Andre,” he answered.
I stared at the tickets. I’d finally get to see my mother. Somehow, Andre had known I’d been missing her like crazy. And he’d even included my friends in the gift.
As soon as the thought of my friends crossed my mind, I wondered if Oliver had already made it back to Peel Academy via ley line. Instantaneous travel was more appealing to him than flying in a private jet.
My thoughts drifted to Caleb. He was probably still tying up loose ends with the Romanian division of the Politia. I should’ve been there too, but I’d allowed Andre to bribe me out of the country early. Between getting kidnapped—twice—gagged, stabbed, shot, and nearly beheaded, I’d reached my physical and emotional limit. And that wasn’t even counting my terrifying visit with the devil. Romania had officially lived up to all the spooky stories I’d read about.
Next to me, Andre’s body froze, drawing my attention back to the present.
“This is a joke, right?” Andre said.
“Not a joke. Check the news.”
Andre cursed. “Will do. Thanks for the heads up.”
I sat up as Andre set the phone back in its cradle. “What’s going on?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.
A muscle in Andre’s jaw feathered. “There’s been a leak.”
“A leak?” I repeated.
In response, Andre got up and grabbed his laptop. Sitting back down next to me, he opened it up and logged onto the supernatural community’s news site.
When the front page loaded, I covered my mouth. On it was a spread, and yours truly was the top story.
Gabrielle Fiori: The Long-Awaited Anti-Christ
Anti-Christ. My eyes wouldn’t stop returning back to that word. Crap, could it actually be true?
Stories like this one had run periodically in the past two months, but they’d been so sensationalized that they were discredited almost immediately. But this … this was a front-page story on the site for supernatural news. That kind of attention only came when the news was credible.
I leaned over Andre’s shoulder and skimmed the story. It went on for pages, citing sources, pointing to evidence the community already had on me and discussing some ancient artifacts that accurately prophesized my fate. Some oracle had foreseen this whole shebang a long time ago. The prophecy had been scribed onto an ostrich egg in Teoian, the lost language of the gods. A month ago, cryptologists finished decoding the dead language, and shortly thereafter, researchers deciphered the ostrich egg prophecy.
How convenient.
Of course other mysterious artifacts had begun showing up over the last couple of months that validated the Teoian inscription. And if that wasn’t enough, seers, psychometrics, and witches had been called in to shed light on the prophecy. Each one independently came to the same conclusion: Gabrielle Fiori was fated to marry the devil and bring hell on earth.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” I drawled out.
At the end of the article were links to some related stories: “Gabrielle Fiori Soulmates with Andre de Leon: How the King of Vampires is Aiding the Devil”; “Gabrielle Fiori Prophesized to Lead the Vampire Genocide”; “Has Gabrielle Already Married the King of the Underworld?”.
Only now did my dream from last night come flooding back. I rubbed my eyes. The devil really had divulged all of my unsavory secrets. And right now Andre and I were only staring at the secrets themselves. Who knew how many enemies were out there right now learning about them and readying to use them against me.
Andre let out a disgusted sound and cast aside the laptop. He stood and began to pace, rubbing his jaw.
I nervously twisted the ring he gave me round and round my finger. “Andre, there’s something you should know.”
He stopped to stare at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
“When I visited the devil, I made a deal with him.”
“Gabrielle.”
I winced at Andre’s tone. “I know, I know. But at the time it was either make a deal with him or do the deed.”
Andre’s mouth thinned, reminding me that he still knew very little about what happened to me last night.
“So I made a deal with him, … and then I reneged on it.”
The muscle in Andre’s jaw was ticking like crazy, but he stayed silent.
“One of his conditions was that if I broke my oath, he’d reveal all my secrets to those who’d wished me harm. As you can see, the devil made good on his promise.”
Andre’s face paled. “He revealed all your secrets?”
I nodded.
“And to those who’d use them against you?”
Well, to be honest, it looked like he revealed my secrets to the entire world, but I nodded anyway.
Andre cursed and grabbed the satellite phone once more. “I need to make some calls.”
I bit the inside of my lip and nodded. It was my turn to pace as Andre talked on the phone. I tried to not eavesdrop, but even still, phrases such as “devil’s consort,” “imminent death,” and “wanted for future crimes against humanity” kept drawing my attention back to Andre.
When Andre finally ended the last of his calls, he dragged a hand down his mouth.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The House of Keys, my coven, and several religious groups are all actively hunting you at the moment. They want you—dead or alive. You’ve also been placed on hit lists by the more unsavory groups—Satanists, practitioners of the dark arts, possessed humans—the list goes on and on.”
“More hit lists?” I croaked, my throat dry. Being on one was bad enough. Now I was on several?
Andre ran a hand through his hair. “The good guys want you gone, and the bad guys want to get credited with delivering you to the devil.”
In the supernatural world, good and evil never agreed upon anything. Not until I came along.
That sucked gigantic balls.
“We need to get off the grid,” Andre said.
“You mean … go into hiding?” No school, no Politia, no freedom. The idea that my remaining days might be spent in some heavily fortified safety house frightened me. I’d just gotten a big enough taste of death to know that I wanted to enjoy life while I still had it.
But I might not get a choice either way.
Andre’s eyes were pleading. “Please don’t fight me on this, Gabrielle. I can’t watch you die again. I won’t.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to fight you. But … you’re coming with me?”
Andre crossed the room until he stood in front of me. “We’ve already been over this, soulmate. Where you go, I follow.”
I was going to be on the run, but Andre would be next to me the entire time.
“I need to go talk to the pilot about changing course.” Just as Andre spoke, the jet dipped.
Our eyes met. Perhaps this was the normal turbulence. Perhaps it wasn’t.
Andre went to the cockpit, and naturally, I followed, grabbing the wall as the plane dipped again.
“What’s going on?” Andre demanded.
“We’re being ordered to land the plane,” one of the pilots said.
“Who’s giving the orders?”
“The House of Keys.”
In front of me, Andre’s body went rigid. “You are not to land this jet,” he said.
“Mr. de Leon, these are executive orders. I will lose my license if I don’t.”
“And you’ll lose your life if you do.”
I heard the man’s delicate swallow, I could smell the sweat gathering on his neck as well as that of the copilot.
“Sir,” the pilot said, “their orders state that if we don’t land the plane, they’ll shoot us out of the sky.
br /> I doubled back to look at the pilot. Did I just hear him correctly?
A long silence stretched on. “Fine,” Andre said, “land the plane.”
I rubbed my face. I was going to die in a matter of minutes.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the pilot said.
Andre wasn’t listening. He strode past me, heading to the back of the plane.
I walked over to the couch and sat down heavily, resting my head in my hands. “Why does everyone think that killing me is the answer?” I said to myself.
“Because they are idiots.” Andre walked back into the cabin holding two canvas backpacks. “Here,” he said, handing me one of them, “put this on.”
I took it from him and eyed it warily. Now that I took a closer look, there were way too many straps for this to be just a backpack. Which meant …
“Is this a parachute?” I asked, standing up. Dread pooled low in my stomach.
He wrapped his hands around my upper shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
“You want me to jump out of a plane,” I stated. Only people in the movies jumped out of planes. Well, them and adrenaline junkies. But this was not comparable to skydiving. Not when we were up higher, flying faster, and people were after us.
Andre gave me a firm shake. “Do you trust me?” he repeated.
I blinked a few times, and then looked at him, really looked at him. “With my life.”
“Good.”
Andre glanced over his shoulder at the cabin. “If we stay in the air, you die. If we’re in the plane when it lands, you die.”
“No Andre, please don’t sugarcoat it,” I said.
His hands squeezed my arms tightly, his way of telling me to shut up. “The only situation where you live is if we jump.”
“Please tell me you’ve done this before.”
He nodded but looked away.
The jet dropped, and I grabbed ahold of Andre to steady myself. “Andre? How many times have you jumped out of a plane?”