Velvet Haven (38 page)

“She’s just a mortal,” Gabriel reminded him. “Clay and dirt.”

No. If she were just a mortal, Gabriel would not be here, offering him absolution. Suriel had walked the Earth alone for a millennium, begging God’s forgiveness. In those thousand years, God had never once acknowledged his prayers. Until now. Until Mairi. There had to be something else going on. Gabriel was too intent, not only on Mairi’s death, but on the powers he had given her. Why? What problems did it cause for Gabriel?

“Does He know you’re here?”

“Who do you think sent me?”

Suriel tasted the lie, smelled the deceit, and knew then that Gabriel had not been sent. He had come alone, seeking his own motives.

“Have I your word, Gabriel, that my pardon is the truth? That if I forsake her, I will come home?”

“Yes,” Gabriel murmured.

Pressing his eyes shut, Suriel nodded.

“Good.” Gabriel’s white robe swirled on the stone floor as he stepped away. “Is your word of any worth, Suriel?”

“As much worth as it can be, coming from a fallen angel.”

Gabriel laughed. “Defiant to the end.”

“Tell me, Gabriel, what will you do with the woman?”

“She will be safe.”

Suriel looked up to see Gabriel sheathing his sword. “And what of your word, Gabriel? Is it of worth?”

When Gabriel turned to look at him, the archangel’s eyes were black. “As much as yours is.”

Which meant Gabriel was a fucking liar.

Suriel closed his eyes and prayed to the god who had created and destroyed him. Trying one last time, he spoke the words aloud. “Show me the right path and I will take it.”

“You will have a day to return to the woman and regain the gift. I will await you. Once I have it in my possession, I will return with you to the heavens.”

“I’ll be there.”

Gabriel turned, then stopped. “See that you are, Suriel. I don’t tolerate fuckups.”

It was past twilight and Mairi waited in the grove that Bran had called Nemed. His sacred space. He had wanted her waiting there for him. With her arm outstretched she waited for her raven to appear. She saw him in the distance, soaring high above the trees, the moonlight glinting off his onyx wings. Her heart filled with love at the sight of him.

“Mairi, I must speak with you.”

The world skidded to a stop. Mairi turned to see Suriel standing behind her.

“Suriel.” Mairi dropped her arm to her side. “What is it?”

“You must listen to me.”

“All right.”

He paced around her, his gaze never once landing on her. “I need to leave.”

“Annwyn?”

“You.”

She stopped him with a hand gently laid on his arm. “Why?”

“I am in danger, and because of me, so are you. They will come for me, and if they find you near me, they’ll take you. Stay close to the raven. He will protect you.”

“Suriel—”

“I’ve spoken to him already. He knows what this is about. Mairi, I can’t delay here with you any longer. I must . . . you must have something from me. You must keep it safe. Give it to no one. Not even your raven.”

“All right.”

He clutched her face in his hands and lowered his mouth till it hovered over hers. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but you are the only person I trust. This gift, it is all of my power. Everything I am. Everything I know. About the Oracle. And the amulet. Use the knowledge, but be careful. Let no one know. If they come after you, this is what they will want.”

He kissed her, his mouth opening over hers; then he breathed into her mouth, filling her lungs. He broke away and she gasped, choking as images swirled before her.

“You will feel me at times. I’ll try to speak to you, to help you on our quest until I can join you. Good-bye, Mairi.” Suriel clutched her face in his hands, his wings spreading wide.

“Will you come back?” she asked, clutching his hands.

“If it is His will.”

“Suriel—”

“Go to your raven.”

In a flash of white light, Suriel was gone. She turned, saw her raven hovering above the treetops. He swooped down and landed before her, taking her into his arms.

“Good eve,
muirnin
.”

“Hello, my love.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him. “Were you able to get Rowan?”

“She was with Sayer all along. Morgan never had her; it was a ruse. Now she is ensconced safely at my court. Cailleach will come tomorrow to see her. It is my hope that here in Annwyn her illness will progress more slowly, giving us time to find a treatment for her.”

“And what did it cost you to bring yet another mortal to live in Annwyn?”

“Do not worry about that. There is another who is most eager to see you again,” he murmured, kissing her nose. “Clancy. I told the beast that if it ate one thing that was not put before him in a dish, he would be sent back to live at Velvet Haven with my surly cousin. He already attacked a tree sprite when he first entered. Tree sprites are sacred. I can’t have him running amok, hunting as he pleases.”

Mairi twined her arms around his neck. “I will repay you for your kindness and indulgence, my king.”

“I know, and I’ve been thinking of how all day.”

He took her lips hard, then stilled, breaking away. He looked around the grove and sniffed the air as the breeze stirred. “Your
Anam Cara
was here.”

“No. Suriel was.
You’re
my
Anam Cara
.”

“Ah, Mairi, you undo me. Your Chosen Fate
and
your Soul Friend?”

“Mmm,” she murmured as he kissed her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

Mairi closed her eyes and felt Suriel’s presence settle deep inside her. He was safe—for now. That much she was certain of. “We can talk later. Now I need you.”

Bran’s mouth skated softly down her neck, then over her cheek to her mouth. Their lips met, and they kissed, bathed in a shaft of moonlight. Slowly at first, then more eagerly, their tongues touched, stroking.

“Mairi,” he murmured, “I want a Lanamnas ceremony with you.”

“And that is?”

“An eternal vow taken with a Soul Mate.
Muirnin
,” he whispered, “you are my heart and soul, and for eternity is how I want you.”

“Promise?”

“I want to make this so beautiful for you,
muirnin
. So perfect that you’ll cry in my arms from the pleasure.”

“It already is perfect, because it’s with you.”

He smiled, cupped her face in his palm, and dragged his mouth across her cheek. “Not yet. But it will be. Close your eyes.”

She did and felt herself being lifted in his arms. “Open them.”

Her lashes fluttered. Before her was another altar, draped in dark blue and silver velvet, pillows scattered around the makeshift bed. On top was a fur blanket that would feel decadent and wicked beneath her naked body.

When she looked up at him, she saw that he was watching for her reaction. “It’s always been my fantasy to take you here, in my sacred space. Will you give me this fantasy,
muirnin
?”

He set her down and she reached for him, sliding her palm up along his hard abdomen, up higher to his pectorals. “Spread on an altar, sacrificing myself for you, is that what you’ve dreamed of?” she asked, totally turned on by the image of herself as a sexual goddess. Living out his fantasy was definitely something she was going to enjoy.

He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Lovingly she traced the outline of his sigils on his neck, watching as they glowed beneath her fingers. He rested his forehead against hers. “I want this night to be perfect for you.”

“Oh, you are,” she said, rubbing up against him. “Just like this, this is perfect. This is how I want you. This is how I love you.”

He brought their hands up and placed her fingers against his cheek. “Touch me,
muirnin
,” he said in a voice that was little more than a broken whisper. “Touch me.”

Need had replaced the masterful tone of his voice. With shaking fingers she caressed the arch of his strong brow, down to his cheeks, which were already starting to stubble. The roughness of it grazed her fingertips, heightening her senses. She liked Bran with an evening beard. She liked him looking hard and strong. It made her feel secure and safe in a new world where she felt so out of place.

His breathing was hard when she reached the corner of his mouth. With a gentle glide of her fingers, she brushed them over his lips, startled by their softness. Mairi closed her eyes when she felt him reverently kiss her fingers. His energy, which had been an even hum, spiked at the touch.

“I need you—so much.”

His head dropped down and he rested his forehead in the crook of her neck. She felt the tips of his fingers glide down her throat. “Don’t stop,” he begged. “Don’t ever stop.”

With her palms she traced the sculpted contours of his shoulders, then slid down to the insertion points of his wings and rubbed. He shuddered and let out a low moan of utter pleasure. The energy increased, humming along his body, flickering along his muscles. It drew her in, made her feel bold, and she pressed her body against his, rubbing the points between his shoulders as she kissed his neck.

“You feel so good,” she whispered, running her fingers down his spine to the waistband of his pants. “So strong beneath my hands.”

“You make me feel strong.”

The longer she touched him, the more the energy seemed to flow between them. It was pouring off him, and Mairi knew that this loving would be like nothing they had ever shared before.

She kissed his shoulder, licked his skin, tasting the salt of him. Her mouth lowered, brushing over his nipple. She flicked the tip of her tongue over it, felt it grow hard. She heard his breath catch, felt his hand comb into her hair and clutch at her curls. And still the energy ebbed and flowed; like waves on a beach, it came in, then out, drawing them closer and closer, pulling them together so that they were bound to each other.

Reaching for his fly, Mairi slipped the button free and pushed the pants down over his hips. He kicked them off, his mouth finding hers, and he kissed her. Slowly, reverently. Like a tender lover, he took her mouth, showing her that this night was not about sex, but love.

Over and over she brushed her fingers along his back, delighting in the shudders that racked his body, loving the way he seemed to cling to her, to hold on to her as if she sapped his strength with her powers.

Emboldened, she kissed his neck, then sucked rhythmically in time to the stroke of her fingers over one of his insertion points. Driving him to the edge with her touch—her love.

Bran could barely think. Mairi’s hand, so small and delicate, skated over his shoulder, building his passion, inflaming his body until he thought he might come. But then it passed, and the energy took over, flowing outward and into Mairi. She took him, pulling at him, and he let himself go. Let himself be taken in by her.

“Lanamnas is a sacred act,” he said, reaching for her hand. “It’s meant to be intimate and beautiful and . . . pure.” A white cloth materialized and he reached for her wrist. Palm to palm he fitted their hands, while winding the cloth around their wrists.

“
Anam a Anam
,” he said. “Soul to Soul. Not Sidhe to mortal, or male to female. Just two souls.”

Mairi threaded their fingers together. His eyes closed, and she couldn’t resist touching the crease where his long lashes rested against his cheek. “You were so worth dying for.”

His breath brushed her ear, as he nuzzled her lobe. “Will you have me, Mairi, to be your fate?”

“I will.”

Trailing his fingers down the smooth column of her throat with his free hand, he watched as his fingers reached her breasts, which were rising above the corset-style bodice, then down lower, to the pendant that was cradled between her breasts. It was his gift. A silver triscale with pale blue stones. It represented Annwyn and the trinity that was theirs—Mairi, Bran, and the raven. To see her wearing it filled him with pride, love, and possession.