Messenger''s Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels
“Ah, the chief inspector,” said Lilith as she stood from the dining room table, where she and Juliette had just finished sharing a light Scottish brunch. “Quite a few women in Harris and Lewis have their eye on that one. Unfortunately, he’s still pining over the lovely young woman he’d been dating until a month ago. She broke his heart.”
She moved around the table as she told Juliette all of this and Juliette could only listen in faint surprise. How the hell did Lilith know all of this?
Juliette got up and joined her then, walking to the edge of the kitchen. At that point, Dougal turned and looked through the glass doors. Juliette met his gaze.
Lilith leaned in and whispered, “I’d imagine that entertaining such a guest would make Gabriel’s blood boil.” She straightened, an enigmatic smile on her lovely face. And then she winked, pulled on her humongous parka, and headed to the glass doors, Juliette on her heels.
Juliette opened the door and Angus nodded at her. Something flattering flickered clearly in the depths of his jade green eyes. She took a deep breath and asked the chief inspector in. At the same time, Lilith nodded her good-bye and saw herself out. Juliette shut the door and wondered where the woman was going. Would she take a car? Or simply pop out of existence? Come to think of it, Juliette had never asked Lilith what her story was. Why did she work for Sam? And as what?
“Miss Anderson, I’m sorrae tae intrude on yae withoot notice,” said Angus, his deep voice heavy with accent. “But I was in the area and saw yer lights on and wanted tae check up on yae.”
Juliette turned to face him and felt dwarfed. He was as tall as Gabriel, and as broad as well, and she had to crane her neck a little to look up at him. “I’m fine, Inspector,” Juliette said. “Can I get you some tea?”
“Please.” He smiled a friendly smile that gave him a pair of dimples and softened his otherwise hard expression. “It’s a wee bit nippy with the wind as it is.” He began to shrug off his jacket, once more revealing his shoulder holster and the guns it held. “Oh, sorrae.” He looked embarrassed for a moment. “Do yae mind if I—”
“Not at all,” Juliette assured him, gesturing to the coatrack in one corner. He nodded and strode to the rack, his long legs eating up the distance in a meager three steps. Once he’d hung his coat, he turned to regard the peat fire in the stove. After a moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied that it was burning well, and then turned an appreciative gaze on Juliette again.
“Ye’ve built a nice fire,” he told her as the firelight reflected in his eyes. “Ye’d do well livin’ here, if I may say so.”
Juliette had nothing to say to that. She ducked her head, a touch ashamed that she hadn’t, in fact, built the fire at all. But she wasn’t about to tell the inspector that the blaze had leapt to life of its own accord. “Your tea,” she said, holding out the cup she’d poured for him. “Cream or sugar?”
“Nae.” He shook his head, his thick wavy hair brushing the collar of his shirt and curling on his forehead like Superman’s. “Thank yae. It’s fine as is.” He strode back across the room and gently took the mug from her. Then he took a sip and cocked his head to one side, studying her carefully. “Have yae had any more trouble with Black?” he asked. His green gaze was penetrating as he waited for her reply. She remembered that look—the inspector was very observant. He wasn’t missing anything in that moment.
Juliette wasn’t sure she could hide the thoughts she was thinking, so she ducked her head and turned to regard the view beyond the sliding glass doors. “No,” she said. “I haven’t had any more trouble from him.” It both felt and sounded like a lie and there was nothing in the world she could do about it.
“I see,” Dougal said softly. Juliette could feel his presence behind her. She felt like a specimen beneath a microscope; the heat from the lens was burning a hole through the back of her neck. “That’s good tae know, Juliette,” he said, using her first name this time.
She turned to face him and was struck with a hard, green gaze that pinned her to the spot. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he continued. “Because we’ve learned a few things aboot Black lately that tend to the troublin’ side.”
Juliette swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “Like what?” she asked, trying to sound as carefree as possible.
Dougal’s smile never wavered. He turned away from her and made his way to one of the couches. He took another sip of his tea, then leaned over and placed the mug on the coffee table. “Gabriel Black is the benefactor for qui’ a few charitable projects goin’ on in Harris a’ the moment,” he told her, taking a seat and draping his thick arms over the back of the sofa.
“Funds from ’is account are buildin’ a new children’s home, among other things. The thing is, this account of ’is seems to have nae backin’. There’s nae trail to tell us where this money’s comin’ from,” he said. “Black’s job as a firefighter in New York can no’ accoont for the lo’ of it. An’ though ’e’s go’ the Glasgow banks in ’is pocket, we’re dubious.” He leaned forward on the couch then and rested his elbows on his knees. “A man doosn’t hide his past without good reason, Juliette. Charity is a cover for many a criminal. Black may be a verrae dangerous man.”
You have no idea, Juliette thought. Her heart was hammering. Her head was beginning to pound. She knew that Angus Dougal had no doubt come to her cottage that day in order to convince her to stay well away from Gabriel Black. He had some kind of problem with Gabriel. She was willing to bet it was personal. But she knew where Gabriel’s money came from and it wasn’t what Dougal thought. She knew that Black could take any object in the world and turn it into solid gold. It had been one of the demonstrations he and his brothers had given her back at his mansion last night and early that morning.
His wealth didn’t surprise her.
What took her breath away was that Gabriel Black was using that money to help homeless children. Beneath the hard edges and angles of the black-clad archangel, there appeared to be a genuinely good man. And she’d most likely misjudged him in the worst possible way. She—judging him. An archangel, of all things.
“What else?” she asked suddenly.
Dougal frowned, tilting his head a little, clearly not understanding the question.
Juliette swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “I mean, what else is he funding? You said he was funding several charitable operations.”
Dougal’s gaze slowly narrowed. His body was stock-still as he replied, “Black’s money has restored several crofts across Harris an’ Lewis.”
Juliette thought of the peat bogs she’d seen on her drive from Stornoway into Luskentyre. She knew a lot about them; she’d done her homework. Their winding lines carved the landscape of the Western Isles and much of the mainland as well. They were quintessential Scotland; people on the Outer Hebrides had been making their living that way for centuries. But peat crofting and sheep raising were a failing way of life as well. Crofters were a dying breed. It was an incredibly hard living and the younger generations more often than not opted out of it. They would head to Glasgow for other work, leaving behind generations of history. Eventually, the family land and home were sold or left to rot—empty and useless reminders of what once was.
Gabriel Black was trying to change that. He was trying to preserve a piece of history and save Scotland’s way of life. Juliette’s heart melted a little in that moment. She was very fond of Scotland; she felt a kinship to it and its people somewhere deep, deep inside. Gabriel was using his gifts to give its children a better life and save what was left of its legacy. What had his brother Uriel done with his gifts? Become a famous movie star.
There was a depth to Gabriel that others didn’t have. And up to that moment, she’d all but missed it.
On the couch, Angus Dougal straightened, his expression dark. He stood and picked up his mug and moved around the coffee table to approach the kitchen. Juliette watched him rinse out the mug and place it in the sink. Then he turned, leaned against the
sink, and crossed his muscular arms over his chest. He cut a handsome figure and Juliette was reminded of Lilith’s parting words.
To take the heat of the subject off Gabriel—and because Juliette really was curious—she asked, “I’ve been told that you’re unattached at the moment. Is this true?”
Angus’s eyebrow shot up and he went very still where he stood. It was clear that he wasn’t sure whether to entertain the question at first. But then he uncrossed his arms and placed his hands palm down on the counter. His gaze left hers and settled on the floor. “It is.”
“Did you break up with her or did she break up with you?”
It was a long while before Dougal replied to this one. He was no doubt wondering how much Juliette had heard about him. And from whom.
“She left me,” he said then. Juliette could hear the pain in his voice. She also recognized that he was trying very hard to hide it.
She paused for a respectful amount of time and then quietly asked, “What happened?” She knew she was crossing a line, but she didn’t care.
Surprisingly, Angus didn’t seem to care either. He looked back up at her. “She wanted bairns bu’ could no’ have them. She’s unable.”
Juliette frowned. That made no sense. Why would a woman leave a man because she was unable to have children?
“I never cared,” he continued as if he could see the confusion in her expression and didn’t mind clarifying. “Bu’ she thou’ I did. An’ it scared her. I know she felt she could never make me happy.”
“So she ran away.” Juliette put two and two together then.
Angus nodded. Another long moment of silence passed between them. And then he straightened again. “Yae’re a kind lass, Juliette,” he said. “A trustin’ lass. An’ tha’s wha’ scares me.” He strode out of the kitchen to the coatrack, then pulled his coat down and shrugged it on. All the while, Juliette watched the muscles flex and ripple beneath the material of his clothing.
She imagined Angus Dougal could have his choice of women in the Western Isles. That he wasn’t currently attached must mean that he cared for his ex-girlfriend a great deal.
Dougal turned to face her again. “Juliette, I’ll give yae fair warnin’,” he said. “Gabriel Black has made ’is forsaken way through many a woman on these isles.” He shook his head slowly. “There are no consequences for tha’ man, lass. I don’ trust Black an’ I don’ think yae should be trustin’ him either.” With that, he brushed past her, and a gentle wave of aftershave wafted over her. The inspector made it to the door and opened it himself. “Good day, Miss Anderson,” he said, reverting at once to formality. He stepped through and began to close the door behind him. But before he shut it all the way, he stopped and turned to glance at her over his shoulder. “An’ please be careful.”
Juliette watched as he shut the door and descended the stairs from her cottage, turning around the corner on the first floor and disappearing from sight.
When he was gone, she leaned back against the wall behind her and closed her eyes. “What do I do now?” she asked softly. Gabriel Black was confusing the crap out of her. He was a tomcat and a rake and he kissed like he’d kissed ten thousand women for practice. But he was also kind. She had Angus Dougal to thank for showing her that much. But it wasn’t just that. Juliette’s entire world had been turned upside down. Gabriel and the other archangels aside, Juliette had more mundane and real-life issues to consider as well.
Did she fly home now? Throw in the towel? Run back to Pittsburgh and move in with Sophie for a while? Did she call it quits with her career and forget about her PhD because she’d just learned that she was an “archess”?
“No,” she whispered to herself, putting her hand to her forehead. She wasn’t ready to give up on all of that. She loved history. She loved Scotland and its past. She had wanted this so badly for so many years, she could taste it.
She was in danger. The Adarians were out there somewhere looking for her, and they’d found her once already. Going home wouldn’t ensure they didn’t find her again. They could track her down in the US as easily as they could here. And if she was with Sophie . . . she could put her best friend in danger.
“I’ll stay,” she told herself. She would remain in Scotland—at least for the time being. But if she was going to stay there, do her research, and write her thesis to graduate, she would need to take safety measures. Remaining in that cottage might not be so wise. It was too remote in Luskentyre; she was too alone. She needed to move somewhere with more people—surround herself with protection.
Juliette pushed off the wall and ran a hand through her long, thick hair. “All right,” she said. “Time to pack.”
* * *
It was late afternoon and Juliette was just finishing packing everything she could get to fit into her suitcase. She was still wearing the Burberry jacket. She was indoors, but the aviator’s coat was so beautiful, she found she couldn’t take it off.
Juliette’s head cocked to one side when she heard a motorcycle’s engine draw closer outside. She paused in her work and listened. The roar of the bike didn’t die down; it got louder as it approached, obviously turning onto the side street that ran to her cottage.
And then it shut down altogether and she froze in the following silence. Someone’s here. Cortisol and adrenaline flooded her blood system, putting her stomach in her throat and momentarily causing her heart to race. Footfalls, determined and certain, made their way across the gravel driveway to the sidewalk. Juliette swallowed hard and looked toward the small windows of the cottage bedroom. But she was on the second floor and they would show her nothing.
She thought fast. There were no weapons in the cottage. In fact, other than the two guns she’d seen on Chief Inspector Angus Dougal, Britain gave the impression of being firearm free. An entire bloody kingdom and not one weapon.
Juliette’s heart was hammering. She turned to the door as the footfalls made their way up the outdoor flight of stairs and came to stand on the threshold on the second floor. There was a hard rapping on the sliding glass doors.
Juliette ran her palms along her jeans; they’d begun to sweat in her fear. Was this an Adarian? It wasn’t the inspector. He drove a car. It wasn’t Lilith. She hadn’t made any sound at all after she’d left, and had probably just used some sort of magic.
The rapping at the door came again, a touch more insistent this time. Juliette had no idea what the emergency number in Scotland was. Not knowing what else to do, she picked up her cell phone, dialed the cell phone number that Angus Dougal had given to her, and left her thumb hovering over the “talk” key. Then she stepped through the door of the bedroom and into the living room beyond.
Gabriel Black stood on the other side of the glass doors. His pitch-black, wavy hair looked wind tossed. He wore motorcycle boots, black jeans, and a tight black sweater beneath a black leather jacket. He stood tall and dark and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
The sudden image of him there, only a few feet away, with that touchably messed-up hair and all that leather had a strange effect on Juliette. She stopped in the living room and watched him warily, even as her stomach warmed and her legs grew wobbly. Gabriel reached up with a gloved hand, and as his perfect lips curled into some secret sort of smile, he pulled off his shades.
Quicksilver, Juliette thought. His mercury gaze shot through the glass doors to nail her to the spot. His smile broadened and she heard his chuckle through the thickness of the glass. It was a delicious sound.
Before she knew what she was doing, Juliette found herself walking across the living room to the doors. She hesitated only a moment, glanced up at him as he continued to smile down at her, then unlatched the door and slid it open.
“Good day, lass,” Gabriel drawled, his eyes sparkling like diamonds. “May I come in?”
“You’re not a vampire like your brother, are you?” Juliette found herself asking. She wasn’t sure why she said it. It was broad daylight, after all. It just
spilled out.
Gabriel’s gorgeous eyes widened and then he threw back his head and laughed, the sound warm and deep and intoxicating on several levels. “No’ bloody likely,” he chuckled. “Bu’ you’re lucky you did no’ meet my family two months ago,” he continued. “When I had two brothers that were vampires.”
Now it was Juliette’s turn to have wide eyes.
“It’s a long story, little one,” he said then, quieting down a bit. His gaze softened, his pupils expanding as he looked down at her. “I’d be happy to share it with you over dinner.”
Juliette tried to think of everything she’d learned about Gabriel—and about her messed-up life—in the last forty-eight hours. But none of it would present itself to her in an orderly fashion. All she could really think of at that moment was the man before her; he filled her senses. Made her feel warm—breathless.
She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s four in the afternoon,” she told him.
“Aye, bu’ it’ll take a while to get where I’d like to take you,” he said, his smile as bright and beautiful as ever. He raised one well-muscled arm and braced it on the doorframe beside him. The scent of his soap and aftershave drifted toward her on a breeze and Juliette’s mouth went dry. “I know you’d enjoy the ride, luv,” he said softly. “Wha’ do you say?”
She looked up into those silver eyes that were glittering like diamonds, and any anger she felt over the way he’d previously treated her began to melt rapidly away. “Angus Dougal said that you’re a playboy,” she accused. There was no real vehemence in her tone, however, and she found that her gaze kept slipping to his lips.
Thinking of his kiss.
“Did he, now?” Gabriel looked amused—and entirely unabashed. He leaned in then and something dark flickered in the silver depths of his eyes. “An’ why would such a man be sayin’ such things to you? I wonder.”
“Maybe he’s trying to warn me.”
Gabriel’s brow shot up. “Warn you?” His gaze narrowed. “Away from me?”