Messenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels (16 page)

“Uh, Gabriel—” Eleanore tried to say something, but Juliette cut her off.

“Lambent has been nothing but kind to me. You, on the other hand, have assaulted me, kidnapped me, and threatened me,” she told him, her tone as icy as his own. Gabriel could see green sparks shooting off in the depths of her eyes. “Lambent could tell me you’re a saint and I wouldn’t believe him,” she said. “And you want me to believe you’re an
angel
?” She shook her head.

Max was suddenly between them, filling a space that Gabriel hadn’t thought a single breath could fit into. The guardian’s hand was on Gabriel’s chest, shoving persistently back, putting more room between Gabriel and his archess.

Gabriel tore his gaze from Juliette’s to look at Max. The expression on his guardian’s face was one of warning, stark and angry. Gabriel wasn’t sure Max had ever looked at him that way before. He forced himself to take a step back and try to calm down.

Max turned to Juliette. He took a deep breath and, though Gabriel couldn’t see his face, he imagined Max was giving Juliette a much more understanding look than he had given Gabriel.

“Admittedly, Gabriel has behaved rashly,” Max said in a gentle, placating tone. “I won’t deny that a bit. But you haven’t given us much of a chance to prove ourselves to you. We’ve told you no lies. Samuel Lambent, on the other hand, is nothing
but
lies.”

Now Juliette’s narrowed gaze was on Max. “How so?” she asked, her tone still chilled.

“Well, Gabriel’s right,” Max said. “He’s not who he pretends to be; that’s for certain.”

“Who exactly is he, then?” she asked.

“His real name isn’t Samuel Lambent,” Max said. “It’s Sama—”

There was an intense flash, white and hot and sudden, and everyone in the room shielded their eyes. Gabriel felt a tug and pull in the air, a sort of sucking from all around him, and it was impossible for him to breathe for just a moment. And then the flash faded, the air was clear, and he was lowering his arm from his face.

And Juliette was gone.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

J
uliette cried out as her body jerked into open space and her surroundings blurred around her as if she were jumping into hyperdrive. And then she was hovering, absolutely nowhere, surrounded by streamers of rainbow light and darkness, and for a half second she couldn’t breathe.

Then time kicked in once more, grinding to life around her and pulling the stars and planets back into shape. She took another breath, if only to scream, but there was a pop and a flash—and she was floating two inches above the overstuffed couch in her rented Luskentyre cottage. Juliette gazed down at it with wide eyes as she was gently lowered onto the cushions and released.

She was still in a sitting position. She sat there for a moment, stunned and a little breathless, and gazed around her at the cottage’s interior. It was still and dark in the early morning. Nothing moved and the air was cold.

“What the hell—” Her voice shook. A tremble had started in, deep and horrible.
What just happened?
She felt frozen and exposed and alone and the world was yawning around her, its maw gaping and threatening. She desperately wanted something to hold and missed her Nessie elephant more than ever.

Juliette lay down on the couch and curled her legs up to her chest.

And then the peat-burning stove against the opposite wall burst into fiery life. Juliette bolted upright, her heart in her throat. But she was all out of screams. She stared at the perfect fire and the warmth that was already emanating from it and the glow it gave off that was chasing away the shadows. For several long seconds, she expected something else to happen and her senses were on high alert.

But all else was still. That was when she noticed a small gray box, wrapped with a charcoal-colored silk bow, sitting on the floor beside the stove. It had been revealed by the fire’s light; she hadn’t noticed it before.

Juliette pushed herself off the couch onto jellylike legs. She hobbled toward the stove and fell to her knees beside the box. With shaking fingers, she pulled the bow free and slid the top off. Inside was a gray piece of folded parchment—and her lost plush elephant.

“Nessie,” she whispered as she ignored the note and pulled the stuffed animal out of its resting place. She had no idea where it had gone to or where it had come from, but it felt real and soft and squishy when she pulled it against her chest and squeezed. A few seconds later, she took a deep, shaky breath and put Nessie in her lap. She turned her attention to the note.

With fingers that no longer trembled, she unfolded the paper and read the beautiful, scrolling script.

Juliette—

I have never been one for shadows either. I hope that this will help chase them away.

Until we meet again,

Sam

“S-Sam?” she whispered. How was this possible? How had he managed to find Nessie, let alone get him to her cottage? Especially when she wasn’t there herself?

But Juliette knew the answer. The fact that the fire had burst to life on its own was evidence enough. Her mind was simply rebelling at the proof—the confirmation that Samuel Lambent was so much more than he seemed to be. The verification that Gabriel and his “brothers” had been right.

Juliette pushed every coherent thought in her mind into the shadowy recesses of her brain and hugged her elephant to her chest.

Two hours later, she turned off the water in the shower, wrapped herself in thick, warm towels, and headed to her room. She’d had some time to think, and though she still felt rather numb and shocked about everything that was happening in her life, she had been able to put it more or less in perspective.

“Okay,” she said out loud, just to put force behind her thoughts. She picked up Nessie from the bed and fingered his button eye. “It doesn’t make sense, strictly speaking and as far as human knowledge is concerned.” She turned and looked out the window at the Luskentyre shoreline. It was early morning and the sea beyond the pristine strip of beach beside the cottage was still indigo with waning night. “But what do humans know?” She thought of the endless multiverse beyond her planet and all its dark matter secrets and shook her head. “We know nothing,” she muttered, looking down at Nessie once again.

So all of this might really be true,
she thought.
I have these superpowers and I don’t know why, unless I believe Gabriel Black and Eleanore Granger and Uriel, the Christopher Daniels look-alike who actually turned out to be Christopher Daniels.

If what they said was true, then she was an archess, a female angel created as a mate for an archangel. And not just any archangel, but one of the four favorite archangels.

Specifically, Gabriel.

Juliette moved into the living room and sat back down on the couch, still wrapped in her towels. The fire in the peat stove still burned bright and warm and she hadn’t had to replace any of the fuel. It was obviously there by some supernatural means, and at this point, she was no longer terribly shocked by the idea.

By the fact that it should have been impossible for him to procure and leave the stuffed animal in her cottage, Juliette was guessing one of two things. Either Sam had been the one to hijack her luggage in the first place, which seemed extreme and unnecessary—or Sam wasn’t human, after all. In the latter case, Gabriel and his companions had been right—Samuel Lambent was more than he seemed to be. And by the proximity of his gift to the ever-burning flames in the stove, she was also guessing Sam’s possible superhuman nature had something to do with the fire. Chasing away shadows . . .

Juliette sat back in the sofa and looked down at the stuffed elephant he had returned to her. It was as if he’d known exactly when she would need him the most. He had good timing. Just like Gabriel and his timely interruption when she’d been attacked by the Adarian.

Juliette thought of Gabriel Black. It wasn’t hard. His tall, broad form and silver eyes and killer kisses rushed in from the gates, flooding her thoughts, the moment she considered allowing them in. She tried to think past it all, to the man who was
behind
the kisses and the liquid metal eyes. He’d cornered her in the tavern’s bar, but in all honesty, that hadn’t been a bad experience. Quite the opposite. And she
had
punched him for it. And then he’d saved her from the man who attacked her in her room. And, again, if what he and his companions said was true, then the man who attacked her had been an Adarian—definitely
not
Gabriel’s partner in crime.

Juliette turned to stare out the tall sliding glass doors at the rising tide. She couldn’t really claim to believe any longer that Gabriel had planned that attack. As little as she knew about him, it still felt wrong. Gabriel really had saved her.

He really was an angel.

Barring the fact that she’d always assumed angels to be cherubic figures with tiny, flittering dove wings and bows and arrows, the scenario made sense. In a sick sort of way. It explained so much. It explained her powers. It explained why she had been so fascinated with Gabriel’s profile in that tavern bar before he had even turned around and she’d seen his face. It explained the impossible sexual hunger he awakened within her with no more than a glance. And his kisses?

“Christ,”
she mumbled, closing her eyes once more.
“It explains everything.”

Juliette pushed off the couch and headed back to her room to get dressed. Halfway there, she stopped and shook her head, smiling a wry smile. She’d forgotten to do a load of laundry and all her clothes were dirty. She would also probably have to put some money into the generator in order to work up enough power to get the washing machine going. Electricity was like that in Scotland, and especially in highly remote places such as Luskentyre on the Western Isles.

Juliette opened the door to her room and again stopped dead. Her suitcase was lying open and inside were all her clothes—and more—freshly folded, except her dresses, which were lying out across the bed.

Without missing a beat, Juliette knew it was Sam again. Whatever he was, he was powerful. And very considerate.

She moved to the bed and gazed down at the clothes lying across it. They were gorgeous but also looked warm and comfortable. They were exactly the kinds of clothes she would purchase for herself if she had enough money to shop the Burberry, Gucci, Hilfiger, or Kors lines. Samuel had known exactly what her tastes were.

Juliette ran her hand along the leather and fleece aviator’s jacket from Burberry and experienced a shiver of pure, hard delight. Was it even right to accept such a thing from someone? Then again, she’d already accepted so much from him. . . . What did it matter to add to it now? It was probably horrible reasoning, but she was a bit emotionally drained at the moment. She was also cold. The clothing looked warm. And she’d always admired Burberry.

Without giving it further thought, Juliette dressed in a new pair of jeans, a warm long-sleeved shirt, a pair of boots, and the Burberry jacket. Then she headed back to the kitchen to put the teakettle on.

She jumped a good two inches when there was a knock on the door in front of her. Her eyes flew to the sliding door and stared through the glass at the woman standing outside. She was dressed in a floor-length parka, which looked warm, but perhaps a bit much for Scotland at that time of year. She also looked familiar. The woman raised her hand and gave a little wave.

“Lily?” Juliette asked, realizing that it was the woman from the hotel. She worked for Samuel Lambent. Another shiver wracked through Juliette’s petite frame, but this one wasn’t so pleasant. She looked down at herself and the new clothes she wore and then she looked back up at Lily. The woman smiled sheepishly and shrugged, mouthing the word “Sorry.”

Juliette made her way to the door, unlocking it to slide it open. “Lily?” she asked, bracing herself against the wind and chill that instantly struck her exposed face. The rest of her was cozy warm.

“I’m sorry, Miss Anderson,” Lily said urgently. “But I really felt that we needed to talk. My name isn’t Lily,” she said. “It’s Lilith. And I need to speak with you about Samuel Lambent.”

* * *

“I’m gonna kill him,” Gabriel growled.

“Good luck with that,” said Uriel.

“Wow, this week is a déjà vu train wreck,” said Michael, running a hand through his thick blond curls. “We’ve been here before, people. I can’t believe you’re surprised by this anymore. Sam is a bastard. He’s also very smart. We really should learn to expect this kind of thing, don’t you think?”

“Michael’s right,” said Max. “He may have helped us on the battlefield outside of Texas a few months ago, but I’d chalk that up to his way of confusing the hell out of us and call it good.”

“You could have warned me.” Gabriel turned on Azrael, who was leaning against the fireplace in his stone chamber of a room, his arms crossed casually over his broad chest. He’d returned from feeding twenty minutes ago. The vampire just stared at Gabriel, his expression unreadable. But his gold eyes began to glow.

“Don’t go there, Gabe,” warned Michael. “Whether Az could have told you about the contract or not, you never gave him the chance. Lay off.”

“And you say I’m the hotheaded one,” muttered Uriel as he lifted himself up onto the stone altar upon which Azrael normally slept. He looked down at the stone slab and then around the room. “This brings back memories.”

“Boys, we need to focus.” Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and turned in place, eyeing each of the archangels with impatience. “Speaking from experience, Samael isn’t going to hurt Juliette, and we know that it was Sam’s doing that she disappeared. So, she’s probably safe.”

“You’re working under the assumption that he still wants an archess for himself,” Max told her.

“No, I’m working under the assumption that Sam isn’t that kind of person. He’s not violent toward women. It’s not his style.” Ellie shrugged and looked at the ground. “I don’t know how else to tell you. I just know that Sam doesn’t want to hurt us. He may be sneaky and conniving and underhanded, but he was always a gentleman with me. He has something else in mind.”

“Like what?” Michael asked.

“I have no idea.” Ellie shook her head helplessly. “But the thing we should be focusing on right now is where Jules may have gone. I wouldn’t automatically assume that Sam would yank her back to him.”

“Why not?” Uriel asked.

“Because,” Max butted in, “she’ll be on the defensive, and Sam’s not stupid. He doesn’t want her to think ill of him. He’ll send her somewhere else to calm down for a while.”

“Right,” Ellie agreed. “As long as you’ve received the message loud and clear that you’re not allowed to bad-mouth Sam in front of the new archess, nothing else will really matter to him.”

“He’s very touchy about his little secrets, isn’t he?” Uriel muttered, clearly reliving his own experience of attempting to disclose Samael’s true identity to his archess.

Gabriel watched them all for a moment, his mind spinning at a thousand RPMs. He figured they were probably right and Juliette had come to no harm. Sam was a lot of dangerous things, but an outwardly aggressive individual he had never been.

So Juliette was safe. And hopefully he and his brothers had managed to fill her head with enough of the truth about what she was and about what they were that it would simmer for a while, and she might even come around to believing them. He hated that he hadn’t had more time with her, but he’d been a fool not to expect this. Like Michael had said—they needed to be on their toes with Samael. They were learning.

Gabriel wanted to ask Azrael to perform a scry and find out just where in the bloody hell Juliette actually
was
at that moment, but he figured that he probably wasn’t on the vampire archangel’s good side just then. Admittedly, Gabe wasn’t behaving like himself. He was picking a fight with the entire world. This whole affair was getting to him. Two thousand years and he’d always managed to remain relatively cool in a crisis. He’d had no idea that someone as small and unassuming as his little archess would wind up tossing every last ounce of his sanity out the window.