Archangel of Mercy (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

T
HE
child’s laughter was pure and carefree, and Aurora smiled, vaguely bemused although she wasn’t quite sure why.
Who was this child?
She seemed oddly familiar with her curly blonde hair and kaleidoscopic eyes. An insubstantial thought drifted through her mind.
Was this a dream?

“Finished.” The little girl held up a seashell-encrusted picture frame. “Can we give it to him now?”

I can’t understand what you’re saying.
Yet, bizarrely, the strange language made perfect sense.

“As soon as he gets home.” She was thinking in English. And yet the words were exotic, foreign.

She glanced around the stone and timber kitchen. Unease trickled over her flesh. Had she been here before?

A shadow blocked out the sun and then
he
was there. Tall, golden-haired, and the world was filled with light and love as he pulled her and the child into his arms.

Silken feathers teased and caressed, belying their inherent strength and she gasped, disoriented, as his wings embraced and claimed.

His wings.

“Aurora.” The way he breathed her name, so husky and seductive, sent tremors of an entirely different nature dancing over her skin. She wound her arms around his neck, felt him tug his fingers through her hair, and the sun dimmed into a pre-dawn glow.

The dream fluttered through her mind, fading into mist-shrouded corners, and the elusive distinction between dream and memory merged, became one, as Gabe’s mouth claimed hers.

—

SITTING IN THE
shade on Gabe’s terrace, elusive tendrils of Aurora’s early-morning dream haunted the edges of her consciousness. Although a strange feeling of contentment cocooned her, the harder she tried to recall the details the fainter they became. It was frustrating because for some obscure reason she had the strongest certainty that the details were of the utmost importance.

But it was no good. All that remained was the intangible sense of joy, and with a sigh she forced her wandering attention back to Gabe’s laptop.

But she couldn’t concentrate, and she leaned back in the chair Gabe had hauled out from the kitchen, along with the table and a mobile air-conditioning unit, before he’d left.

She stared at the distant forest and tried not to imagine what he was doing. She hadn’t asked where he was going and he hadn’t volunteered the information. But despite all her good intentions she couldn’t prevent the knot of resentment deep in her gut from tightening.

Even after having sex
three times
last night—not counting the quickie this morning when she’d been only half-conscious—he still went out for more. Was it for the variety? Or was it her lack of stamina? Because there was no denying the fact she could hardly keep her eyes open this morning.

Not that she was complaining. Exactly. But it was a thought, wasn’t it? Gabe clearly had an insatiable libido and saw no reason to curb it just because she was staying with him.

She refocused on the laptop. She was an idiot to get so worked up over it.
It
was only sex. And that was all it ever would be. It wasn’t as if she’d done something stupid like let her heart become involved. She might be falling, but she hadn’t fallen irrevocably. There was still time to pull back.

Wasn’t there?

—

AURORA CHECKED HER
email account, expecting to see a reply from her dad. What she hadn’t expected was to see one from her mum as well.

With a trickle of unease, she opened it. It must have been at least four years since her mother had felt up to emailing. Aurora was sure it was no coincidence this miracle occurred the day after her mother and Gabe had a telepathic exchange.

And what had they spoken about anyway?
She’d been so staggered by his careless revelation that she’d forgotten to ask.

As she read the message she could feel her face heating. It was as if she’d slipped back fifteen years, and was listening to her mother chastising her for some childish misdemeanor.

Don’t try telling me you’ve gone off to do RESEARCH with some guy you met at a psychic fayre.

Well, she’d had to tell them something, seeing as Gabe had communicated with her mother, but she’d never expected her mum to get so irate about it. In fact, she hadn’t expected her mum to make much response at all. Wild hope flared. Could this be the cataclysm that brought her mother back from the shadows?

What have you done, Aurora? What sort of people just vanish into thin air?

What? Gabe had teleported in front of her mother? Was he
mad
? What was the point of her trying to tell her parents everything was fine and not to worry, when he’d gone and done
that
in front of them?

With a feeling of dread she opened her dad’s reply. He was sure to be furious that she’d so upset her mum. Except he sounded perfectly fine and was relieved that she was okay.

Her mother hadn’t confided in her dad. Was that because the events had faded into the far recesses of her mind as soon as she’d sent her email?

Or was it because with that thread of lucidity, her mother hadn’t wanted to unnecessarily distress her father?

—

AFTER REPLYING TO
her parents by saying a lot but telling them nothing, she decided to approach things from a different angle today. She focused on Guardian abductions and tumbled into a vortex of increasingly paranoid conspiracy theories. It was kind of shocking to discover that trait wasn’t confined to humans of Earth. It appeared to be a universal obsession.

Speculation as to the Guardians’ origin ranged across the spectrum of the imagination, as did the reasons why they abducted in the first place. None of the suggestions were palatable, but the one that really sickened her was the theory they did it to feed their insatiable drug habit.
Feeding on the terror of mortals.

As with the so-called alien abductions on Earth, abductees generally—although not always—turned up again sooner or later. Their memories were hazy, their sanity compromised, and evidence of torture apparent but at least they were still alive.

And then she stumbled across the anomalies.

Hidden in obscure archives were scanty reports of those who hadn’t returned alive. Those whose throats had been slit and their bodies drained of all fluid. She dug deeper, her stomach churning with revulsion at the images scrolling across the screen.

And almost missed it.

Heart pounding, she scrolled back, zoomed in closer on the last unfocused image. She hadn’t imagined it. Around the woman’s neck was a chain. And although it was hard to see she was certain the pendant was in the shape of wings.

Involuntarily, she curled her fingers around her necklace. Coincidence. But she didn’t believe it. Not for a second. There was a connection.
Had
to be. God, where was Gabe when she needed to talk to him?

From the corner of her eye she saw him materialize. Talk about perfect timing.

“Gabe, come here. You’ll never—” Her words lodged in her throat as Mephisto, arms folded, regarded her through narrowed eyes.

“Aurora.” Just that one word, but the menace in his voice caused a shudder along her spine. He made no move toward her, and yet his presence dominated the entire terrace, looming over her, suffocating.

She refused to squirm under his unblinking gaze. “Gabe’s not here.”

“It’s not Gabe I want to speak with.”

Nerves stabbed through her gut. Mephisto appeared far more intimidating when he wasn’t flashing his evil smile around. She flattened her hands on her thighs to stop them from shaking. No way did she want this arrogant bastard to guess how much he unnerved her.

“What about?”

His mouth thinned as if her tone offended him. She forced a panicked breath into her lungs and reminded herself she was under Gabe’s protection. On his island.
So much for being a strong, independent woman of the twenty-first century.

She hadn’t been this terrified of Mephisto when he’d turned up before. But before he hadn’t exuded this icy, deadly intent.

Intent for what?

Whatever it was, Aurora knew it wasn’t good news for her.

“Tell me exactly what you did on the astral planes.”

“You know what I was doing.” He’d been at the club. Who else but Mephisto could have told Gabe she had been attempting to breach dimensions? And although she didn’t have a clue how Mephisto knew she had no inclination to ask. “And so does Gabe.”

Mephisto unfolded his arms and rippled his wings. An immortal predator stalking his prey.

“Tell Gabe whatever fucking fairy story you like. But don’t try it on with me. I’ll ask you one more time. What did you do on the astral planes?”

She could tell him the whole truth. Explain about her mother. But the thought of sharing such intimate details with Mephisto was abhorrent. He wouldn’t give a damn about her reasons unlike Gabe, who’d been amazingly understanding about it all, now that she thought about it.

Before she could think better of it she pushed herself to her feet. Her knees shook and she gripped the top edge of the laptop screen for added stability. No point ruining her façade of courage by collapsing.

“I made a mistake.” It hurt, having to confess that to Mephisto. “And I’m paying for it.”

He moved so fast she hardly had time to blink before he was standing right in front of her. Before his arm shot out and knocked the laptop across the table, smashing onto the terrace.

“Paying for it?” His voice was still deadly low but his eyes burned scarlet. “I don’t see you paying for anything. It’s the Archangel Gabriel who’s paying your debt and I want to know what the
fuck
you did to him on the astral planes.”

Fear stabbed through her, but it wasn’t fear of Mephisto for herself. What did he mean that Gabe was paying her debt? Immortals were beyond the grasp of the Guardians. She’d discovered that and Gabe had confirmed it.

But suppose they were both wrong?

“What do you mean? Is Gabe in danger? I thought he was safe from the Guardians?”

Mephisto stared at her as if he didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about. As if her words were incomprehensible. Bizarrely, relief surged through her. If Mephisto considered her questions irrelevant then surely that meant Gabe wasn’t in danger of abduction?

“
You’re
his debt.” Mephisto looked at her as though he’d like to incinerate her on the spot. “Manipulating your puny existence into his life.”

Manipulating?
“I’m not—”

“Last chance.” He bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. “Tell me how you dragged Gabe through the astral planes without his knowledge. If I’d known that was your ultimate goal I would’ve fried your brain two years ago in London.”

Mephisto thought
she
was responsible for Gabe’s arrival on her land? Through the astral planes?

London?
What did London have to do with any of this?

“I didn’t. I don’t have any idea how he—”

“Don’t think I won’t rip open your mind to find the truth if I have to, human.”

She believed him. And he would leave nothing of her mind behind afterward.

“I am telling you the truth.”

A phantom, psychic hand grasped her fingers and she staggered at the brutal grip. Mephisto’s fiery glare scorched her flesh, and it took every particle of willpower she possessed to remain standing upright.

“What are you?”
He ground the words between his teeth, as if they were forced against his will. As if something about her mystified him in a fundamental way.

He tightened his psychic grip on her fingers. Pain raced up her arm, speared through her chest, arrowing toward her heart.

Her vision was blurring. She refused to break eye contact. “Forget about me.” She hitched in a crippled breath. “Why are you so concerned about Gabe?” Mephisto didn’t strike her as the caring type. “What do you care about
any
thing?”

“Who the hell are
you
to question
me
?”

He was going to kill her. At the moment he was playing, like a cat with a mouse, but within seconds he would tire of his game. He would rip through her mind, clawing for answers. And find nothing.

How easy it would be to fall to her knees. To grovel at his feet and beg for mercy.
He’d spare her then.

The thought was absolute, as if it was ancient knowledge. And with it came a cold, white fury that ignited her paralyzed brain and pumped blood through her deadened fingers. She straightened her spine, pushed back
with her mind
and psychically felt Mephisto recoil in hideous, incomprehensible denial.

“Who the hell are
you
to intimidate
me
?” Her words, imbued with contempt, echoed in her ears. But where had they come from? It felt like she was continuing a conversation long since discarded.

Mephisto’s eyes widened in disbelief. But it was more than that; it was something inexplicable. Because he looked, for one fleeting second, as if he’d been shaken to the core of his existence.

A dull thud echoed behind her and then Gabe was there, gripping Mephisto’s biceps, and the unsettling connection severed.

“Back off.” His voice was low. A deadly warning.

Mephisto wrenched himself free, his glare never leaving Aurora. “What the fuck”—Mephisto’s voice was low, oddly hushed—“have you
done
?”

Shivers skated over Aurora’s arms. Was he talking to her? What did he mean? That there were further repercussions of breaching dimensions that she had yet to learn?

Gabe appeared oblivious to Mephisto’s strange behavior. “Don’t come near Aurora again.”

Finally Mephisto tore his gaze from Aurora. “She’s just a human.” Was it her imagination or did he sound as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Gabe? Then he stepped back, unfurled his wings and clenched his fists. “Think about it, Gabe. Is it really worth it?”

“Get out of here.” Gabe sounded feral.

Mephisto gave her one last condemning glance. And then he teleported.