Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) (11 page)

“Oh. You couldn’t tell me?” She felt hurt, knowing she didn’t deserve to feel upset at him after doing the same thing.

“No.”

“I understand, Logan. I’m so sorry about … you know.” She motioned to her head. “She can come out. I’m not upset.”

It really was over. She should’ve known. No one wanted a dying girlfriend, especially when she’d flat out refused to marry him. Logan rose quickly as she started down the hallway. Deidre knocked then opened the door to their bedroom, startled.

“Or, I guess you can tell
him
to come out,” she said. The man in her bedroom was kind of creepy: tall and lean with blond hair and eyes so dark, she couldn’t see his pupils. Logan’s choice in men was definitely lacking.“It’s okay. I know. I’m not mad. My name is Deidre.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” The blond man’s smile was slow, predatory, his teeth sharpened into points and his dark gaze piercing. “I’m Jared.”

She took an involuntary step back into the hall. “Nice to meet you.”

Jared approached. Unnerved by the strange man, Deidre backed away until she bumped into the wall.

“I like your hair,” he said, looking her over. “Reminds me of a water sprite.”

The familiar phrase made her chest tighten. The instincts she’d ignored at seeing Logan alive grew louder. Something was wrong here. The bones and blood, the scary man with pointed teeth.

“After you.” Jared motioned to the living room.

“Go ahead. I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” she replied.

He shrugged and padded down the hall.

Deidre turned to the spare bedroom. They kept Logan’s baseball gear there, and she felt the sudden need to have a bat in her hands. She opened the door and flipped on the light.

The bedroom was covered in blood. The spare bed was soaked with it, and it pooled around the legs. There were handprints on the windows, as if someone had tried to escape, and blood splattered on the ceiling and the walls.

Unable to process what was before her, Deidre closed the door and swallowed hard. The sense of calm settling inside her was unnatural, like the rest of the day. She stared at the door. At some point, her life had gone from crappy to freakish. It started when she had a one night stand with a serial killer.

Was that it, then? Had she really died last night and entered this strange reality? Was this purgatory? Reparation for bad karma?

Could she leave? Return to her own world?

Far calmer than she’d ever been, she crept down the hallway. Logan and Jared were in front of the television, talking about the basketball game. Like two guys hanging out who thought it was normal to have bones in the bathroom and blood covering the spare bedroom.

She was going crazy. Or she’d died. There was no way this was real. It was a sign, though, that things had gone on long enough. Maybe this was the push she needed to take that final step, the one that’d take her out of this world completely. Hallucinations, fate or some sort of mania brought on by her brain tumor, she wasn’t going to wait for the Grand Canyon. Either she was dead and didn’t know it, or she was close enough to take matters into her own hands.

Engrossed in discussion, the two men didn’t notice her cross the kitchen to the entrance. She yanked it open and gasped at the wall of man before her.

“Gabriel,” she whispered, looking up from his chest to his dark eyes. She felt the connection to him again, strong and deep, as if her fate was bound to the serial killer who’d come to claim her. There was no sign of the gentle man who made love to her last night, nothing but the cold, stony features of death. This time, there was no mistaking the weapons lining his trench coat or the sword along one thigh.

Deidre whirled. “Logan!” she cried.

The two men leapt up. Gabriel pushed her aside, into the kitchen, swinging out the sword with ease at odds with his large form. Jared scrambled out of the way, but Logan wasn’t so lucky. His head flew off in one direction while his body dropped.

For the second time in one day, she saw the dead body of her boyfriend.

Deidre ran. Her heart and breathing drowning out every other sound, she raced down the hall and around a corner, sliding to a stop as she saw the men headed her way. They carried weapons, too, and their eyes were pure black, their teeth pointed like Jared’s. She darted the other direction down the hallway and slammed open the stairwell. Sounds of pursuit came from a few floors down, blocking her escape.

She went up. Eyes blurred with tears and bewildered, she couldn’t make sense of anything around her anymore. Whatever this was, she was done with it.

They were chasing her. She heard them and launched herself up the stairs, two at a time. Breathless, she reached the exit onto the roof and pushed it open, flinching at the alarm that sounded. The Atlanta night was muggy and dark; a thin layer of smog trapped the city’s light and made the sky glow an eerie yellow-orange. Deidre ran and ducked behind a massive swamp cooler. She shook too hard to pull her phone free from her pocket and call for help.

Several men passed by where she was hidden, and she backed away as quietly as she could. She pressed herself against the warm, humming swamp cooler and turned a corner, only to come face to face with Gabriel again.

Deidre bolted. He snatched her, pulling her into his body before she could struggle. One arm locked around her while his other hand covered her mouth. He pressed her head back against his chest. The reminder of his size and strength scared her. He handled her like she offered no more resistance than a ragdoll.

“Quiet,” he whispered into her ear. “As much as I’d like to kill you, I won’t.”

His breath tickled, and she shivered. Her body roared to life at the scent of his dark spices while she fought the urge to break down into hysterics. Wrapped in his warm body, she couldn’t move if she wanted to. A side of her really didn’t want to, even knowing he’d killed her boyfriend.

Twice.

His heartbeat was strong and steady, the thick arm wrapped around her as it had been when he held her after they’d made love for the last time before falling asleep. The sense of being protected, safe, floated through her. She fought it. She was his next target. She wanted to go down on her own terms, not lured into a false sense of safety before he chopped off her head.

The sounds of pursuit grew fainter. When they fell silent, Gabriel moved, his grip loosening around her.

“Stay here,” he ordered. Deidre stayed in place long enough for him to put some distance between them. He faded in and out of shadows, as if he was part of them, the heavy trench coat making him look like some sort of sinister Batman.

She inched towards the edge of the building. It was fifty meters away, far enough he could catch her, if she wasn’t careful. Easing to the edge of the swamp cooler, she eyed the distance and drew a deep breath.

He’d guessed right. She was a jumper. She hadn’t planned on jumping off
her
building, but the events of this night made the idea more appealing than having her head severed from her body or ending up a pile of bones in a bathtub. Deidre squared off against the waist high wall between her and her destiny.

She sprinted. She passed the halfway point and forced herself to keep going. If she gave herself a second to think, she’d stop and sob, until someone else came by and killed her. She passed the three quarters point, and tears filled her gaze.

“Deidre!” Gabriel’s shout was closer than she expected.

She ran as fast as she could, knowing it was her only chance. Reaching the wall, Deidre ignored the scrape of concrete against her hands and knees as she clambered on top. She paused, gazing down at the street lights thirty stories down. Wind whipped up the building and tossed her hair.

Either I’m already dead, and nothing happens. Or, I’m alive and about to be dead.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and jumped.

The sensations of freefalling made her stomach turn. She panicked as she fell. This felt too real for her to be dead. Air roared by her ears. She opened her eyes, forbidding herself from screaming as the pavement below grew closer. She seemed to be moving so slowly, crisply aware of every sensation, every thought.

Someone tackled her. She gave a cry, confused as arms wrapped around her. The flutter of a black trench coat blended with the dark sky as Gabriel twisted them in midair, so he’d hit back first, with her protected in his arms. Deidre couldn’t move as they fell in slow motion. She saw the flash of a street lamp. Before they hit the concrete, darkness swallowed them, and they fell through a cold, damp place punctuated by strange yellow doors.

Suddenly, they broke free. Blinded by sunlight and blue sky, she closed her eyes.

They hit the ground hard. The impact jarred her to the core. Gabriel’s arms fell away. Her breath knocked from her, Deidre didn’t move for a long minute then sat up, gasping. She scrambled off him, senses reeling. Blood soaked into the sand around him. He was unconscious – or dead? – while she stood on a beach near blue-green depths so clear, she could see the white sand at the bottom of the water.

She’d done it. She’d killed herself and Gabriel and landed … here. Did heaven look like an island in the Caribbean? She turned around. Ocean surrounded the small island, upon which a fortress sat, several hundred meters away, up a sloping hill on top of solid rock.

A stunning man with a large smile dressed in white stood a few feet away, his brown hair ruffled by the sea breeze.

“Are you… are you an angel?” she asked, hopeful yet confused.

“That’s not as funny as you think it is,” he replied. “Dammit. I swore I’d get the first
and
last word in this time. Fifty percent chance of that now.”

He moved closer, and she found herself arrested by handsome features and eyes that turned every color in the world. He wasn’t human. She had to be dead.

Taking one arm gently, he turned her back to him and pushed her hair away to read the tattoo. He pulled her to face him and released her, satisfaction on his face.

“Is this heaven?” she tried again.

“Oh, no. Nowhere near that,” he assured her. “I’ve waited to tell you this since we met long ago.” He paused and drew a deep breath.

Deidre felt the sense of losing it again. She was going to break down any second, but the effort the man before her put into preparing himself held her horrified attention.

“It will mean more to me than you, at this point, but I am at peace with that,” he continued. “Ready?”

Speechless, she waited.

“Checkmate,” he said and gave her a blinding smile. “
That
was worth the wait.”

“What the fuck is going on?” she cried at last, tears bubbling again. “What is this place? Who are you? Am I dead or not?”

“In about five minutes, the big man there is going to wake up. There’s an eighty two percent chance he’ll kill you, if you’re not behind those walls,” the man replied. He pointed to the fortress. “I am a fan of free will, so it’s your choice. But if I was you, I’d start running.” He stepped aside, happy for reasons she couldn’t remotely comprehend.

Deidre glanced back at Gabriel. How did a serial killer get into heaven?

The smiling stranger’s warning clicked. Whatever reality she fell into, it wasn’t over yet. There were no other buildings, nowhere else to hide that might withstand an angry Gabriel. She ran up the gravel road leading to the wooden door in the fortress. The door flew open before she could knock to reveal a stern woman in a monk’s brown robes. The gravity of her features fell away as she tilted her head, smiled then flung her arms around Deidre in a tight hug.

“I knew you’d come back,” she whispered.

Deidre’s insides were cold.

“Come on, come on.” The woman said, tugging her into the convent. “We’ll have tea.”

Shaking, Deidre wiped her face and followed the severe woman through the simple, stone fortress outfitted with electrical wiring and occasional satellites. Did heaven need satellite television?

They entered a dark dining hall, where a pot of tea and two tea cups sat waiting for them next to a carafe of amber alcohol at the table nearest the entrance.

“Sit, dear! I made it the way you like it.” The woman before her was truly happy to see her. “I’m Daniela.” She held out a saucer and cup.

I dive off a building, and now I’m having a tea party?

Uncertain what else to do aside from have a mental breakdown, Deidre accepted the tea. The china chattered in her trembling hands. Daniela observed her for a moment then replaced the cup with a glass filled with the alcohol. Deidre drank it down, hissing at the burn of the harsh liquid. Daniela refilled the glass without asking, and Deidre drank more. The warmth of the alcohol filled her. It felt real, which meant this place was real.

“Where am I?” Deidre managed at last.

“Sanctuary. A place of refuge. You’re safe here.”

“Safe from what?”

Daniela shrugged. “Whatever you’re running from.”

“Gabriel,” Deidre said. “He killed my boyfriend.”

“Did he?” Instead of the horror Deidre expected to see, Daniela’s face warmed even more, softening the skin around her eyes. “He really does care about you.”

Deidre couldn’t manage a response to such a ridiculous statement. Daniela didn’t seem completely insane, but who else said things like that? Deidre drank more of the brandy, until it stopped burning her throat, and the world grew a little less sharp around the edges.

Daniela’s head twisted to the side, and she frowned. “I hate it when he visits.” She stood and walked to the door, saying nothing more.

Deidre slumped and held her head up with her hands. She heard Daniela outside the dining hall, lecturing someone. Deidre rose, eyes settling on the doorway leading into the neighboring kitchens. Wobbling after the alcohol, she crossed the dining hall, hoping to find a way back to reality. Or heaven. Or … somewhere else.

The kitchens were dark. Loaves of bread were rising along one counter beneath thin cloths. It smelled of chicken and rice and something sweet. The scents were real enough and made her realize she hadn’t eaten all day. One whole wall was lined with homemade brandy.