Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) (4 page)

Gabriel crossed his arms. Fate was getting more persistent. Gabriel was too busy to answer. At least, he told himself he was. He didn’t look forward to meeting the deity past-Death considered viler than the Dark One.

A knock kept him from cursing the book and Fate out loud. The door opened to reveal Daniela, the headmistress, a severe-looking woman wearing the brown robes of the convent.

“You are in time for tea,” she said. “Unless you want to blow up my Sanctuary again?”

Immortal Code, Rule 35: Sanctuaries and the shadow world between places are part of Death’s domain to protect.

“Tea sounds good.” Gabriel sighed. No one ever spoke to his predecessor that way. They’d been either enamored by her beauty or terrified of her, rightly so.

The stern woman whirled away from the door, leaving it open for him to follow. With a last look at the Oracle, Gabe trailed. His gaze took in the new wall they’d installed after the last one was destroyed by his best friend, Rhyn. The ultimate peacekeepers, the nuns running the Sanctuary would likely never let him forget the day the half-demon took out their wall.

The cafeteria where she led him looked medieval at best, a stone hall with lines of crude picnic tables and dark hearths. The only difference was the electricity powering lights in the heavy iron and wood chandeliers overhead and the intercom system installed into the walls beside each entrance. Located right off the kitchens, the cafeteria was awash with the smells of bread, fruit pies and the jerk-spiced meat the Caribbean was renowned for.

She poured them each a cup of steaming tea. Gabriel didn’t touch his.

They sat and stared at each other. A man of few words, Gabriel hadn’t gotten used to the political side of his job yet. Someone his size with his specific skills didn’t ask for favors or need to be polite. Past-Death had only played nice with those she needed something from. Thus far, he didn’t know what it was he was supposed to need from the nun in front of him, and he was too cautious to set this bridge on fire.

“You don’t even like tea,” Daniela accused him finally.

“No.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“I’m maintaining Death’s routine.”

Daniela’s eyes narrowed. “Friendship isn’t a routine.”

“She had no friends,” he replied. “And the ones she did, she fucked over twice as bad as her enemies, like dumping her job on me with no instruction manual.”

“The Code is an instruction manual.”

“There’s nothing in the Code about what I’m dealing with,” he said.

“What
are
you dealing with?” Daniela folded her hands in her lap, her irritation at him replaced by interest.

Gabriel hesitated. “Our radars are broken. We’re missing souls and fighting off demons to get to the dead.”

“And the Lake of Souls?”

“Still bubbling.”

“Two very separate issues,” she said, pensive. “Maybe the problem is you. A former-human running Death’s domain? What’s the world coming to?”

“Not helpful,” he said. “The Immortal Code, rule seventy four states that my status as a former-human has no relevance, once I was made Immortal.”

“It was an attempt at humor, but I can see you have none,” she replied flatly. “If Andre the Ancient was still around, he’d be able to help you with the demons. He was the most gifted tracker in the history of Immortals.”

“Also not helpful, since he’s dead-dead.”

“You’re Death. Bring him back.”

Was she joking or not? She had to know raising the dead-dead broke
thousands
of rules! What little patience he had was waning fast. Gabriel stared at her stonily.

Daniela shook her head. “Past-Death would’ve figured it out. But if
you
can’t do your job, then go back to the way it was originally, before past-Deaths hired on all that help. You fetch souls instead of the death-dealers. When in doubt, go back to the basics.”

Surprised at the casual wisdom of her words, Gabriel was quiet.

“Use your compass instead of the radar. Maybe it’ll reset things.” Daniela sipped her tea.

“What compass?”

“The soul compass. It was what she used long before your time. I’m sure she left it there for you.”

Gabriel didn’t say what he wanted, that if his predecessor knew he needed something, she’d probably torched it before she left. He’d roamed the palace that was his home many times before returning to live out of the tiny cabin he preferred in the Everdark forest. He never thought twice about searching the rooms for something he didn’t know existed.

“That’s probably why she told me about it,” Daniela smiled. “To tell you. I wondered at the time. Maybe I’m your instruction manual.”

He looked at her hard. It wasn’t out of the realm of the possible that the information he needed was hidden in some sort of sadistic treasure hunt created by the sociopathic goddess who held the title of Death before him.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Daniela asked.

“Not the way you think,” he answered, standing. “I’ll see you next time.”

“You’re welcome,” Daniela said.

Intent on hunting down his first real lead since things started going wrong, Gabe called open a portal to return to his underworld and the shopping mall-sized palace in the center of the living forest. The palace acted as a barracks for his assassins, who were trudging in after he ordered their contracts all cancelled. They moved out of his way as he strode through the wide hallways to the stairwell leading to the top floor, Death’s floor.

He stopped in front of the closed door to the massive set of chambers that were supposed to be his. He’d entered twice since assuming his duties. There were too many memories inside, and he hadn’t been able to return. Which past-Death probably knew, meaning any secrets she hid were within.

“I’m done with you,” he muttered. He opened the door to the rooms he knew as well as his cabin. After all, he spent much time here, making love to her on the round bed down the hallway to his left.

It was the last place he wanted to visit, so it became the first place he went. Gabe paused as he entered the bedroom. It was bright, the windows open to the soft underworld breeze and curtains fluttering. The room was utterly feminine, from the pale colors to the silk and lace accents and carved furniture. It smelled sweet and spicy, a scent that always reminded him of pecan pie.

He frowned, noticing for the first time that the bed was unmade. It wasn’t like past-Death to leave something a mess. Not that it mattered. She probably knew it was her last day and decided not to make the bed.

He stopped in front of a door near the far corner. It bore another note from Fate, written in elegant script on parchment and pinned to the door with a knife. Gabe pried the knife free and tossed it on the bed, reading the message.

Come on in and meet me.

Fate wasn’t going to leave him alone, but this door …

Gabriel stepped back. He’d been everywhere in the underworld and mortal worlds, but never through this door. His predecessor once told him that if he entered, he’d become like her in every way. He’d loved and hated her his whole life, a beautiful woman with neither mercy nor honor, who viewed mortals and Immortals alike as toys.

No, Gabriel would
never
go through that door. The fact Fate wanted him to made him more determined, for past-Death was always in some sort of ugly struggle against Fate.

Shaking his head, he walked once around the room, trying to determine where she’d hide something he needed. Somewhere he’d never look otherwise. Gabriel went to her jewelry box. Considering she lived for hundreds of millennia and her status as a deity, she didn’t own anything fancy. Her jewelry box was tiny and wooden. It looked ancient, and he opened it carefully. It contained three items: a tarnished ring, a soul and a delicate silver necklace with a compass on the end. He lifted the compass first. Instead of pointing to the four directions, its edges were lined with ancient symbols he took to be writing from the time-before-time. He couldn’t read them.

Guessing the compass only worked in the mortal world, Gabe emplaced it around his neck before picking up the green emerald – the form a soul took after death – and peering at it. Whoever owned the soul, he or she was important to find their way to Death’s jewelry box. He replaced it and picked up the ring. It was old, silver, and covered with Celtic knots. He’d given it to her hundreds of years ago. She’d rejected him but kept the ring.

The memories were closing in on him again. He’d loved her once, and he would’ve bet his soul she loved him. When he did turn over his soul to her, she dumped him.

Immortal Code, Rule 2,000,010: Death shall not return a soul It has claimed.

He put the ring back and closed the jewelry box, wishing he could shut off his memories as easily.

He left for the mortal world and emerged in an alley in some large city. The list – a scrolling queue of names that lined his left forearm – was always changing. The next name up for claiming appeared. He plucked the compass from his chest and waited to see what it did.

Nothing.

Gabe dropped it and touched his forearm, willing the soul radar to guide him to the right place. A portal opened in front of him and he crossed through it, emerging in what looked like the Pacific Northwest. If the radar was working, the soul would be within a few feet of him.

There was nothing at all within a few feet of him, aside from knee-high wild flowers waving happily in the spring breeze.

“Dammit!” he roared. He flung one of his knives at the tree line, not caring if he hit anything or not.

The compass grew hot against his chest. He looked down and saw the arrow pointed towards one of the symbols. The name on his arm lit up again. He went through the routine: touch, portal, emerge somewhere new. This time, he was on a dirt road near a tiny village.

There was a body at his feet. He’d never been so thrilled to see a dead man as he was that moment. It was not just any dead man, but the
right
one. The name on his forearm disappeared as he knelt.

“Come out, you little bastard,” he said. It wasn’t the normal greeting Death gave souls, but he was too frustrated to care.

Green smoke swirled from the man’s ears and mouth, forming a fog around Gabe’s hand before crystallizing into a small emerald.

“One down,” he said with a glance at his forearm. He didn’t bother to try to count how many were waiting for him. He sensed the silent appearance of his friend and drew a breath. “I hope your week was better than mine.”

“Probably not.”

Gabe shifted in time to see the portal close behind the half-demon, Rhyn, whose muscular form, crackling aura and cunning, liquid silver eyes sent most people running the opposite direction.

“Did you send a message?” Gabe asked, frowning.

“Five. A day,” Rhyn replied. “Maybe six. I hate waiting.”

“I’ll add the message system to the list of shit I have to fix.”

“I’m stacking up bodies for you. No rush. Whenever you’ve got time.”

“I’ll send someone up to collect,” Gabe replied. “You at the castle again?”

“Demon free for a month.” Rhyn’s chuckle was like a low growl, his sharp eyes traveling over Gabriel in what Gabe knew was brotherly concern. “You look like shit.”

“Haven’t slept in weeks,” Gabe grunted and rose, tucking the soul in his pocket. “What’s up?”

“I have a name for you,” Rhyn continued. “Logan Myers.”

Gabe glanced at his forearm. “On the list. You need him dead-dead?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rhyn muttered.

Gabriel stared at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to keep a secret.”

“We spotted some strange demon activity last week. Shape-shifter demons, Gabe. They’re stalking a couple of mortals.”

“Hate those things,” Gabe said.

“One of them might be targeting Logan Myers,” Rhyn said. “We’re watching, but it’s not easy balancing the Council, demons and a pregnant mate.”

Gabe smiled at the look on Rhyn’s face. “I need to visit more often.”

“Dude, you have no fucking idea. I’d take a herd of demons over this shit. One day, she’s begging me to fuck her every five minutes. The next, it’s my fault she’s gained twenty pounds. I told her to lay off the ice cream. Been on the couch for a week. I don’t know where you’re going, Gabe, but take me with you.”

Gabe laughed. Despite Rhyn’s frustration, there was affection on his face as he talked about his mate.

“I admit, I’d rather deal with the shit I’m dealing with than a woman,” Gabe said.

“Still with Harmony?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm.” Rhyn was studying him again.

“Don’t look at me like that. She’s a good girl. Stable and ...”

“Boring?”

“I was going to say drama-free,” Gabe replied.

“Whatever.”

“Like you know shit about relationships.”

“I know that you’ll know when it’s right,” Rhyn shot back. “I’ve been fucked since then, but I got my Katie. You need your Katie. You’re driving yourself into the grave.”

“Good one,” Gabe said, appreciative of his friend’s humor.

Finding a mate wasn’t a priority, not when he was trying to fix his world. He’d watched Rhyn and Katie’s relationship unfold from its rocky beginning, when Katie inadvertently rescued Rhyn from his sentence in Hell. Gabriel gave up his soul to help Rhyn and would do it again, especially seeing how strong their bond had become. Their world was far from perfect, but they were handling it together, as a team.

Immortal Code, Rule 3: The bond between an Immortal and its mate is sacred, unbreakable.

While he envied them, Gabriel really didn’t want to go through all that shit with his own mate. Life was simpler without emotional attachments. Aside from drama, it was going to take half an eternity to straighten out the underworld without the distraction of a woman in his life.

“When do you need Logan taken care of?” he asked.

“When you have the time. We’re trying to figure out what Darkyn is doing planting a shape-shifter demon on the mortal realm,” Rhyn said, referring to the demon lord who wanted both their heads on pikes.