Mists of Velvet (26 page)

Rhys looked deep into her pale green eyes. “He doesn’t do me any good in the mortal realm.”

She refused to look at him. “Raven, you will keep the mortal here, in your castle.”

“A prisoner?” Rhys challenged.

“Yes,” she murmured as she looked up at him. “For now.”

The goddess evaporated, and Rhys was left with all eyes directed at him.

“What I don’t understand,” Bran said, “is why only you were targeted. All of us have walked through that cave and have never seen or heard anything. Certainly we have never been attacked.”

“He wanted me.”

Keir’s gaze met his, and instant understanding lit up his eyes. “
He
knew you would ignore Suriel and my warning.
He
sent Suriel to provoke you. It was your destiny all along.”

Rhys nodded. He had much time to think of things while he had waited for Bronwnn to return to him. In that time, he reflected on everything that had happened and had reluctantly come to the conclusion that God wanted him in this fight, even though he was only a lowly mortal.

“Suriel asked me if I had faith, and I told him I did. I believed that I was intended to go. And I did. The mage was waiting for me, because he wanted my soul for his magick, but, more importantly, he wanted my body. He was going to use it to infiltrate the nine warriors. You would believe it was me, and the mage would have access to all your plans. That is why I escaped and could not save the woman. I was close to death and not strong enough to save both of us. So I saved myself, because in the end, it was saving all of you.”

Bronwnn hugged him, and he allowed himself to absorb her warmth. He wasn’t proud of what he had done. He felt like a damned coward.

“The adder came to you because you are worthy,” Keir said to him. “His wisdom is now your wisdom, and what you have seen will aid us more than a month of reconnaissance work ever could.”

“I can’t tell you more than that. He lives beneath the corridor to Annwyn. When you leave Velvet Haven, it is the cavern to the left. That’s all I saw.”

“There is a man there, chained,” Bronwnn murmured. “I saw him.”

Bran waved in her direction as he spoke to everyone in the room. “This goddess is a seer. She is the writer of the prophecy.”

Bronwnn finally lifted her face from Rhys’ chest and looked upon those who stood before her. When her lashes lifted, revealing her fully, Rowan and Mairi gasped.

“What is it?” Rhys asked as Bronwnn stiffened beside him.

“Look,” Keir whispered as he helped Rowan to stand. She came forward, out of the shadows and into the candlelight.

It was Bronwnn’s turn to gasp. It wasn’t possible. In this light, she and Rowan looked remarkably alike. Why had he never noticed it before?

“How can this be?” Bronwnn asked. “You are a mortal woman.”

Rowan looked to Keir. “My journey,” she reminded him. “Do you recall what the man said to me?”

Keir nodded, repeating the lines. “‘The key to the Sacred Trine,’” he said to her. “‘Two born of the same womb, but not of the same man. Keep this knowledge safe.’”

“‘Born of the same womb,’” Rowan whispered.

Bronwnn’s beautiful blue eyes turned a turbulent shade of gray. “‘But not of the same man.’”

“What is this about a journey?” Bran barked.

“A divination,” Keir replied as he reached for Rowan’s hand. “We were searching for Carden and discovered something far different.”

“What precisely was that?” Sayer asked, suspicion in his voice as he looked between both Rowan and Keir. “And when was that?”

“When? None of your damned business. What did we discover? An angel with a tattooed face who spoke of a Sacred Trine.”

Bronwnn was immediately shocked. This woman, this
mortal
woman, had seen the same man she had? They were connected.
Sisters?
“I have seen the same angel in a divination. He is being held captive by the mage. He is bound by chains and begs us to release him. He will join us if we do.”

“An angel?” Keir questioned her. “Are you certain?”

Rowan and Bronwnn both held out their hands, showing the symbol they had each drawn on their palms. It was remarkable how they were so connected, two people from two different realms.

“But whose symbol is it? It’s not the one on the wall that was left at the site of Trinity’s murder,” Bran growled.

“We’re at a roadblock if we can’t locate Suriel. From what I understand, he’s gone back into hiding. Convenient excuse, if you ask me,” Keir grumbled.

“Where the hell is he?” Bran thundered. “Damn it, that angel is trying my patience.”

“The fallen are never dutiful, or trustworthy,” Rhys reminded the king, who glared at him in response.

“Suriel,” Bran roared, his voice echoing off the ceiling. “Show yourself.”

“My love, I hardly think he’ll hear you.”

“Mairi, your
friend
is probably hovering about the door as we speak.”

As if to prove the king’s point, a deep voiced drawled, “You called?” It was followed by a flash of light, and the magnificent sight of black feathers, which furled back to reveal a leather-clad Suriel. “Although I prefer e-mail to crow song.”

The king glared at the angel. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, just here and there. I do have a boss to answer to, you know.”

“Like hell,” Bran thundered. “Your boss cast your ass out, and now I’m the only one you have.”

Suriel glared at Bran. Gone was the ease, replaced by a tightly held anger. Then his gaze searched the room until he found the king’s mate. “Hello, Mairi.”

She smiled and went to him, hugging him tightly.

“How is my
Anam Cara
?”

Bran growled low in his throat. He hated to be reminded that Suriel and Mairi shared a sacred bond.

“I’m fine, Suriel. But I think you’re provoking my husband.”

Suriel released her. “For you, then. Now, what is it you want from me? I’m supposed to be avoiding Gabriel.”

“There,” Bran commanded as he pointed to Rowan’s and Bronwnn’s hands. “Tell us the meaning of that symbol.”

Suriel glanced at their palms, his face tight.

“Camael,” he whispered. “He’s alive, then, is he? I thought him long gone.”

“Who is Camael?” Bran demanded. “Bloody hell, this grows more vexing and confusing.”

“Does Cailleach know?” Suriel asked her, ignoring the Sidhe king’s glare. Bronwnn nodded, making the fallen angel smile. “She won’t like that.”

“Who or what is Camael?” Bran thundered.

“Camael is an angel of murky associations. He was an archangel, an angel of war, but more notable for his obsession with God’s new creation. It was he who told us of the delights to be found in the flesh. When I followed him from heaven, I expected to be taken to Earth, but then I discovered he had been frolicking in Annwyn with a goddess named Covetina.”

Covetina had been her mother. Had she also been Rowan’s?

“How did you get in?” Bran demanded.

“Cailleach let us in. Camael, Uriel, and me.”

Bronwnn couldn’t believe her ears. The Supreme Goddess? The angel’s dark eyes turned to her, his eyes lit with mirth. “Cailleach fancied Camael, but he had eyes only for her handmaiden, Covetina.” Suriel looked at the woman named Rowan. “You have his eyes, that lovely jade color.”

Rowan collapsed against the Shadow Wraith. “That’s not possible. My mother left me at Our Lady of Mercy and in the care of the nuns. I never knew my father. She was just an ordinary woman . . .”

Bran cleared his throat and placed an object wrapped in white silk on the wooden table. “When Sayer, Keir, and I went to your store a few weeks ago, Sayer enchanted you so that I could discover information about Mairi.”

“Bran!” Mairi gave him a slap.

“Just precautions,
muirnin
,” he murmured. Then he focused his attention back to Rowan. “While Sayer was asking you questions, I came upon this.”

Opening the silk, he revealed an ornate athame encrusted with gems, including a large moonstone, the gem that represented the order of goddesses. On the blade was angelic script.

“You told us the nuns found this in your bag. It was the only thing of any value.”

“It’s just a blade.”

“No,” Bronwnn murmured, “it is not. It is a sacred ritual tool used in the Shrouding ceremony of a goddess and her mate.”

“That’s angelic script.” Suriel pointed to the engraving. “And I see Camael’s sign on the etching.”

Rowan’s eyes were big and wide as she looked at Bronwnn. “We’re sisters?”

Bronwnn nodded, feeling happy to have found a sibling, but desolate, too, because the angel in question was not her father. The evil mage was. Obviously Rowan had been created out of love, and she had been conceived in darkness.

Awkwardly, Rowan embraced her. Bronwnn immediately felt her beauty, the purity of her spirit. “
Nephillim
,” the word whispered to her. Her sister was part of the Sacred Trine. Did she know it? Did the others?

Pulling away, Bronwnn smiled at her sister. “You’re not mortal at all, but angel and goddess.”

Rowan blushed and looked over her shoulder. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can,” Keir murmured.

“We must act soon,” Bronwnn announced. “In my divination, the mage has seen me. We’ve spoken. When I see him, he can see me. But we have an advantage. When I see him, it’s in the present. I know what he’s doing, what he’s planning.”

“How?” Suriel questioned, his suspicion aroused. She wasn’t ready to divulge that. First she wanted to tell Rhys, and then she would let the others know.

“I have my ways.”

“Everyone is an open book here, Goddess.”

“You shut your mouth, Suriel,” Rhys snapped. “Leave her alone.”

“Or what, flesh bag?” Suriel taunted.

“Enough!” Bran barked. Everyone stopped bickering and looked to the leader of the group.

“It’s late, and Rhys and Bronwnn are exhausted. Nothing more can be done tonight. I suggest we digest what we’ve learned and convene here tomorrow morning. Wraith, take Rhys to the east wing. Mairi, show Bronwnn to her room, please.”

“We’re not being separated,” Rhys snarled.

“It’s not my decision, but Cailleach’s.” Bran’s gaze traveled over her. “I have to honor the
adbertos
and Cailleach’s will.”

Bronwnn was tugged out of Rhys’ arms, but not before he whispered into her ear, “I will find you. Expect me tonight.”

Goose bumps covered her body. One more night with Rhys was all she asked for. She would give him her heart and soul and all the pleasure she could pour into one night.

“I’ll be waiting,” she whispered back.

The gray vapor poured down from the top of the door. Rhys watched it, mesmerized by its swirling, writhing elegance as it spilled over the dark wood and onto the floor.

The wraith was here at last.

Shadow followed the vapor, then swirled with it, becoming Keir. He stood before Rhys, glaring down at him. “I ought to choke the life out of you for that stunt you pulled.”

Rhys stood and met the wraith, eye to eye. “You can’t blame me. You were popping in and out of Velvet Haven, coming and going in wraith form. It wasn’t like you, so naturally it got me wondering—and worried.”

“You didn’t have to worry.”

“No?” Rhys demanded. “Then why did I feel your thoughts? Your anger, and fear. It was building, and you wouldn’t let me in.”

Keir glanced away. “It’s nothing you needed to know.”

“Well, that hurts,” he snapped. “I’m an open fucking book, and you get to pick and choose what you want me to know? After all this time, Keir?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ve been distracted.”

“By magick?”

Keir shrugged. “By the cards, by spells, by Rowan and her impending death. By a fucking dream in the night where I hear a woman pleading for mercy.”