Velvet Haven (37 page)

“I won’t lose you. I won’t.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to.”

He wheeled on her. “You nearly died tonight. I couldn’t protect you.”

She stood up from the foam of bubbles, sloshing out of the tub. She stepped out, her legs wobbling as she reached for him.

“Don’t you dare do this!” she begged. “Don’t pull away from me again. All I want is to be with you. And you did save me tonight. And furthermore, I trust you to be around when I need you.”

He gathered her up in his arms and held on tight. His heart was beating like mad and his eyes were beginning to sting—
again
. Shit, he was becoming a bloody watering pot.

“Can’t you just accept me for what I am?”

Her voice was muffled against his chest. He pulled her back and looked down into her face. “Yes. But I don’t know if I can live with the idea of you in pain.”

“This is all new, Bran—to me, too. I just need to figure out how to control it. Tonight the pain ruled me. I need to find a way to keep it at bay so that I’m not overpowered by it. I
will
find a way, because this is how I am, this is why I was born. I was born to save you, and I was born to love you. None of that is going to change just because you don’t want it to be that way. This is how He made me.”

“And, damn, he made you perfect,
muirnin
.”

She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight. She felt so right in his arms. Her energy, that addicting essence of hers, poured into him, and he buried his face in her hair. “Together we’ll find a way for you to get through this.
I’ll
find a way.”

“I trust you, Bran. Now it’s your turn to trust me.”

“I trust you,” he murmured, hugging her tight. “It’s your God I’m questioning.”

“Don’t. Just believe that this is the way it’s supposed to be.”

Bran closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head. Her teeth began to chatter and he realized she was still wet from her bath.

“Warm me up,” she ordered, and he carried her to his chamber, where the large stone hearth blazed with light and heat.

He set her on the floor atop a pile of furs and dried her with a soft towel.

“This is very . . . medieval,” she said with a smile. “I like Annwyn.”

“Our ways are old. We worship the moon, the stars, the trees.”

“Like Druids?”

“Who do you think gave the Druids their religion?”

“The Sidhe?”

“Yes.” He set aside the towel and lay down behind her, warming her back while the fire heated her front.

“I need some clean clothes.”

“’Tis the custom of the queens of Annwyn to go unclothed.”

“Really?”

“They are displayed for their king’s pleasure.”

“You’re making that up!”

“Our ways are ancient. And it is one custom this king is not going to change.”

Bran let his gaze roam liberally along her body. He took his time studying her, watching as the firelight kissed her flesh. His gaze flickered up to the gentle slope of her shoulder, to the curve of her neck. Reaching out, he trailed his fingers along the indentation of her waist and up and over her hip. Gooseflesh sprang to life beneath his fingers and he felt Mairi sway into him. He liked seeing his fingers against her skin, as if he were marking her for his own.

“What does that mean?” she asked sleepily.

“Beloved.”

She sighed and snuggled her bottom into his groin. “I like that.”

He kissed the top of her head, noticing the brilliance of her aura. Pure white. He understood it now. “Do you remember that first night in Velvet Haven?” he asked her. “When I said you were a healer?”

She laughed. “Yes. I guess you were right.”

“I never understood it fully. Your aura is white. It means perfect balance. Now it all makes sense. We balance each other, Mairi. You take my pain, and I heal you.”

“Who would have thought it, that a pair of free tickets to a goth club would change my life?”

Resting his chin on the top of her head, he smiled. “I have never been grateful for my Legacy Curse. But I am now. It brought me to you.”

“Well, just as long as you realize when you need juice, it’s this mortal you’re sexing up.”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “You are the only mortal I need.” He kissed her again and brushed his chin against her. “Tomorrow I’m taking you to the reflecting pool. I want to show you where I picked those flowers for you.”

“Reflecting pool?”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “You’ll like the nymphs there.”

“Nymphs? Argh, there is so much to learn about your world.”

“Shh, this night is only for us. There will be time tomorrow to discuss things.”

“I have two questions that you have to answer. They’ve been burning in the back of my mind for days now.”

“What are they?”

“How old are you?”

He frowned, knowing where Mairi was going with this. “I stopped counting at three hundred.”

She sat up, bumping his chin with her head. “That old?”

“I’m still considered in my prime.”

She smiled and brushed her fingers across his lips. “That’s why you sometimes talk . . . old-fashioned.”

“Jargon and slang change over the years. I learned quickly not to rely on language to appear mortal. Although I do have a fondness for certain words involving the female anatomy.” He leered down at her. “For instance, you have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed. “Be serious.”

“I am.”

She sobered. “Will you really live . . . forever?”

He laid her back down with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I live an extremely long life. But I can choose to end it, and I will. I will go to the Summerlands when you do.”

“I’m mortal and I’m thirty.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “And you’re a worrywart. Do not be anxious about such things, Mairi. Time moves much slower in Annwyn than it does in your world. We will have many years together. Perhaps more than you want.”

“But you can’t die.”

“I can choose to end my existence and follow my Chosen Fate.” She looked up at him, her huge brown eyes glistening with tears. “And that is what I will do when it is your time. I will follow you to the Summerlands. Now, then, that is your two questions.”

“No.”

He looked up from her shoulder, which he was kissing. “There is another?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were dancing with amusement. “When you’re in your bird form, what do you eat?”

He laughed and pinched her bottom. “Not worms or mice or garbage. I assure you.”

She laughed with him and nestled deeper into his hold.

“Watch the fire, Mairi,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes and reached out to the flames, harnessing its powers, bending it to his own. She would find this amusing. It was a youngling’s trick, but he sought to please—and surprise her.

Mairi watched the orange flames begin to dance, to meld into shapes, twisting and twining, then separating. They became distinct. People. A man and a woman. The shapes came closer to each other, a spark reaching out like a hand to grasp what looked like the breast of the woman.

She sighed, watching as the shapes became her and Bran.

“What do you want him to do next?” he asked.

She smiled, liking his magic trick. “What does he want to do?”

The shape of the man pressed forward, kissing the woman. She fell back and the man pushed her knees up, parting them.

Mairi’s breath hitched. “You like to do that, don’t you?”

“I love your taste on my tongue, my lips.”

She rolled onto her back, giving him her arms. “I’m starting a new tradition. The queen gets to ask for whatever she wants while she’s lying before the fire, and the king must see that she gets it.”

“What does my queen want?” he asked.

“The king, buried deep inside. All night.”

“You have made a grave mistake, brother.”

Suriel pressed his forehead to the cold stone. He’d been kneeling so long that his knees were numb, his back stiff, his fingers bloody from gripping the stones as he patiently waited for this audience.

Gabriel pulled at his hair, lifting his chin up from the floor. “You should have let the woman die. This is not your war, Suriel.”

How he hated the pompous, self-righteous Gabriel. God’s messenger, he silently mocked, who always thought himself above
Him
. “Is it His war, Gabriel? Is it yours? If it is, you’re not fighting it very well.”

A stinging slap across his mouth was made to silence him, but Suriel could no more hold his tongue now than when he resided with his brothers in heaven.

“Truth hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” he asked as he licked away the black blood from his lips.

“You’ve grown arrogant in your banishment, Suriel.”

Glaring at his brother, Suriel made to stand, but Gabriel put his foot between his shoulders and slammed him down.

“On your knees!” Gabriel shouted. “You’re corrupt. Sinful. Fallen. You no longer have the right to look upon me.”

Defying Gabriel, Suriel rose slowly to his feet, to stand inches above his brother, who was forced to look up at him. “What brings you to Earth, Gabriel?”

“I have a message.”

“Don’t you always?”

“You will forsake the mortal Mairi.”

Suriel pressed his eyes shut. “No.”

“Her fate is preordained and you have interfered. You will not interfere again. You gave her a gift she was never intended to have.” Gabriel circled him, taunting him. “Now take it back.”

“Why don’t you, Gabe? Go get the gift if that is what
He
wants.”

“You know what happens when you willfully change the course of a human’s life.”

“Yeah,
He
gets pissed and tosses us out on our asses.”

“You upset the balance, Suriel,” Gabriel thundered. “And now you have brought events upon these mortals that they will not understand. That they would not have had to endure if you had not allowed yourself to weaken to the power of a mortal. You interfered in her destiny. She was to die, but you brought her back to life. And not only did you prevent her death, you gifted her with your power to resurrect herself—over and over. Now,
you will
take it back.”

He could not agree to this. He had worked too hard to save Mairi. To hide the Oracle from everyone who wanted it.
To give up now . . .

“You will also vow that you will have nothing more to do with the human. You will leave her, never to see her again, or to enter her dreams. You will not speak to her in her thoughts, and you will never, ever use your powers to prevent her death. Most of all, you
will
retrieve that gift and return it to me.”

“And in return I will get what?” Suriel snarled.

Gabriel met his gaze, his eyes glowing with triumph. “He will forgive you your sin and bring you back home.”

The breath was sucked out of Suriel. For a thousand years he had begged forgiveness. Had sought redemption so that he might once more soar in the heavens with his brothers. He wanted the burden of his black wings lifted, the stain of the onyx-colored feathers washed away to reveal the pure white beneath, returning them to their glorious state, before his fall from grace.

“Think of it,” Gabriel taunted. “A full pardon. Forgiveness. To walk in
His
light once more.”

Suriel fell to his knees at Gabriel’s feet. He imagined what it would be like to have his honor back. To walk among his brothers, his name unsullied, his sins forgiven.

“Just give up your claim to the mortal,” Gabriel whispered in his ear. “That’s all you have to do.”

Mairi. Her image flashed before his eyes. There was a reason He had wanted her saved as a newborn. A reason she had saved Rowan. She wasn’t meant to die. He knew it. Felt it. Giving his power of resurrection had been right. For the first time in a thousand years he had felt his Creator with him, willing him to do what he did.