Curse of Tempest Gate (5 page)

Samael would go after her once he knew she
was of the witch’s bloodline, he would use his power to keep her
and force her to free him. Michael cursed under his breath, his
hand going for his sword at the mere thought of Samael putting his
hands on the woman.

Disconcerted over the profoundly human
responses he was exhibiting, he frowned as curiosity did a
dangerous dance inside his head. Had the woman caused this change
in him, this awareness?
Lust. Jealousy.
He did not know this
woman. Hell, he didn’t even know her name, and yet he felt a pull
toward her, this need to see to her safety at all cost.

Realization hit him. This is why she was so
important. “She is our salvation. Only one of Sophie’s blood can
break the spell.” He looked toward where the gate to the cemetery
should be. It was now covered in a whirl of gray mist and he could
not make out the woman’s progress. Had she made it to safety after
all or had Samael stopped her?

“What are you waiting for?”

Michael whirled around, his sword poised for
use. He lowered the weapon when he realized it was Mr. Donner. The
old man had visited the grounds and spoken to him when he stood
frozen and unable to communicate. Mr. Donner claimed to be a blood
relative to him, blood of his brother’s daughter. He tilted his
head to the side, peering at the old man with surprise. Something
had changed. His aura shimmered like a soft light. “You are a
spirit now.” It wasn’t really a question, but Mr. Donner answered
him anyway.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Hester’s doing Samael’s
bidding. She stumbled upon my plans to free you. I have a…I had a
bad heart and she waited until it was too late to give me my pills.
She feared I would free you before she could release Samael. She
believes he will save her niece. She doesn’t realize he lies to get
what he wants.”

Michael nodded. “Samael does what suits him
and thinks not of what others need. I am sorry you lost your life,
Mr. Donner.”

Mr. Donner waved his hand in dismissal. “I
was an old man. Lived long and well, but you must save Clarity Shaw
from Samael’s clutches.”

“Clarity.” So that was the woman’s name.

“Samael plans to drain her blood and perform
a resurrection ceremony.”

His brows came together in a frown. “How
does he know of such dark magic?”

“Hester’s been researching black magic. She
saw a way around the curse.” Mr. Donner’s shoulder’s slumped and
Michael knew there was more bad news.

“If I am to help the female, you must tell
me all of it.”

Mr. Donner gave an exaggerated sigh and
nodded. “I convinced Clarity to come here. I’ve seen Sophie
Peabody’s journal at the Historical Museum. She wrote it in the
fashion of Leonardo, backward and right to left, but I deciphered a
passage about you and Samael. Only a true female descendent of
Sophie’s can break the curse. This female will see the writing in
the book left in the otherworld and she’ll understand the meaning
of a lover’s kiss.”

This made no sense to Michael and it also
sent his blood boiling over the idea of her having a lover. “She
shall kiss no man in front of me.”

Mr. Donner chuckled softly, which proved to
anger him further.

“You are amused, Mr. Donner?”

“You’re attracted to her. Souls do recognize
each other and I gambled that Clarity would be the one to connect
with yours. I researched her background thoroughly. She is pure of
heart. Like yours once was.”

Michael pursed his lips together. “You are a
deranged old man. I have never been pure of heart.”

Mr. Donner’s gaze swept over him, obviously
seeing something more. “The witch fashioned you after the Archangel
Michael. Her actions were spurred by anger, but the curse could not
make a monster of you. Samael had a dark side when he was alive and
now is no different. Through the centuries it has festered,
revealing his true self. Like his name, Samael, he is like the
angel of death, the one mortals should fear, for he does not bring
the souls salvation but condemns them.”

“You talk in riddles old man.”

“Do I? Good and evil have existed throughout
time. Why should it be different now? You have a chance to make
this right. This time you will not fail. Go to Clarity. Save her
before it’s too late.” With his last words, the spirit of Mr.
Donner disappeared into the mist.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose in
frustration. “How do you save a woman who does not wish to be
saved?”

Chapter Five

“She’s getting away,” Hester screeched, her
voice echoing behind Clarity.

Crazy receptionist, a ghost, a cursed
madman, and an angel statue coming alive—yep, this motivated her to
risk tripping over a gravestone and breaking a limb. Her senses
told her if she were caught, the alternative would be worse.

“You cannot run from us,” Samael’s voice
came to the left of her and she took a quick right, hoping the
preternatural being couldn’t throw his voice and trick her into
running into him. Maybe she should have stayed with Michael. He
seemed the least threatening of the bunch.

Her gaze caught sight of a low headstone a
moment too late and her leg clipped it, sending her sprawling to
the ground with a curse.

Samael’s low chuckle told her the outburst
gave her location away. She scrambled to her feet and cursed again
when her ankle refused to hold her weight.

“Don’t fight your destiny,” Samael told her.
“Come willingly and I’ll make this quick.”

Gee, thanks.
She remained quiet, but
her thoughts bristled with defiance.
Sign me up. Not. I have no
intentions of lying down for you so you can do what your demented
heart desires.

“There’s no escape,” he taunted. “You’re
trapped here until the sun rises. How long do you think you can
hold out?”

As long as it takes,
she promised.
She rubbed her ankle, grateful the pain subsided to something
tolerable. She didn’t break anything, just bruised it.

To keep her promise, she better stand up and
limp away. There was no reason to make this easy for Samael. Before
she could manage the feat, the sound of flapping wings overhead
drew her attention. A whoosh of wind fluttered the strands of her
hair away from her face. She felt him before she saw him, his
presence like a cloak of security.

“Michael,” she murmured.

His body materialized out of the mist, his
wings spread wide in all their majestic glory. His gaze landed on
her with concern as he took the additional steps to reach her. His
dove colored wings slid close to his body as he crouched down
beside her, his beautiful face inches from hers. She opened her
mouth to tell him that Samael was out there, but he pressed a
finger to his lips and nodded. Gratitude choked her, making her
eyes tear. He knew of the danger and he came for her even though
she’d told him to leave her alone. She felt safer already.

With a swift movement, he scooped her up
from the ground as if she were as light as a feather. Her arms went
around his neck, an automatic response, but not necessary. She knew
instinctively he wouldn’t drop her. His gaze found hers then
shifted to her lips. The way his sky blue eyes lit up gave her the
odd feeling he wanted to kiss her, but just as quickly all emotion
left his face.

“You can’t take her,” Samael spoke. A
whirlwind of air and debris took the mist away, swirling into
nothing and revealing Samael a few feet away. His face turned a
molted color, splotching his features. His eyes blazed like red
orbs. He didn’t look too happy to find that Michael had found her
first. Samael swung his arm in an arch and fire flew from his
fingertips.

“Oh sh—” Her curse was cut off with
Michael’s sudden movement. His wings came around her, shielding her
as a blast of heat flew at them. She closed her eyes for what good
it would do and hid her face in his chest. They would be burnt to a
crisp, but as seconds ticked by and Michael still stood covering
her, she realized her flesh hadn’t melted from her bones. His wings
were soft and feathery, but they shielded them like body armor.

“You cannot have her.” Michael spread his
wings and took flight.

Clarity’s stomach lurched as they rose above
the cemetery and she squeezed her eyes shut again.

“Do not fret. I will not drop you.”

Her eyes popped open, his angelic face only
inches from hers. His lips twitched at the corners.

“This is not funny.”

He sighed, not entirely contrite. “No. It is
not. I apologize.” His eyes met hers. The magnetic pull almost too
much to bear, she looked away. Burying her head in the crook of his
neck, she breathed in his fresh earthy scent like dew and pine—a
woodsy masculine scent. She chanced a look at him again and her
gaze snared his, causing her heart to flicker and leap in response.
Kiss me.
She thought.

As if he heard her plea, his lips covered
hers and she gave into the smooth, warm demand of his caress. They
landed, but he didn’t put her down. Instead, he deepened the kiss,
his mouth opened over hers and she relished the way his tongue
stroked her own. The thought of an angel kissing her was mind
blowing enough, but the reality of it actually happening definitely
rocked her world. Her heart pounded in her chest as if it wished to
escape.

Finally, he allowed her to take a breath.
“Can you stand? Are you injured in anyway?”

Her ankle felt better and her heart still
fluttered erratically in her chest, but she nodded. He put her
down, her body sliding against the hard plane of his masculine
physique. Kissed so thoroughly and possessively, she forgot in
those few moments her existence hung in the balance of life and
death. Her feet touched the ground and she tentatively put her full
weight on her foot. There was a twinge of discomfort, but she could
handle it.

She realized Michael hadn’t let her go. He
still held her close against him and her heart continued to race.
“How did you do that? Make me…desire you. Really, I don’t kiss a
guy without knowing him first. Is it some kind of angel magic?”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “There is
no angel magic. I am as put back as you are. I have not had a human
desire…for a female since the curse was cast.”

Her ear rested against his chest and she
could hear his heart beating just as fast as hers. Then she
realized what he said and looked up to meet his gaze. “No human
desires since the curse?”

He nodded as his hand brushed a wayward
strand of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. His
gaze touched her features with warmth. His finger lightly caressed
the eyebrow earring. “Is this a charm of protection?”

How did she explain an eyebrow earring to an
eighteenth century man? “Hmm, uh, yes, something like that.”

He nodded in approval. “Good, you will need
protection.”

“From you?”

He frowned, not realizing she teased. “Do
not fear me. The curse will allow me to defend those who ask for
help.”

She slipped from his embrace, reining in any
emotional attachment as she did so. “So you came for me because of
the curse.” She didn’t understand why it miffed her, but it
did.

“But do you not see? You refused my
help.”

Her hands came to her hips and she stared at
him for a two full seconds before shaking her head. “What does that
mean exactly?”

“It means, I have never been able to choose
my own path, but with you it is different.” He took a step toward
her, but she stepped away, lifting a hand to halt him. As if this
would have any effect whatsoever. He could do as he wished.
Heck, fire didn’t even faze this guy.

Her gaze met his head on. “Do you want my
blood, too? I might as well know where I stand.”

He didn’t answer, but took the steps that
separated them and showed her.

Chapter Six

Michael knew he shouldn’t do this, but those
long forgotten needs couldn’t be ignored now that they resurfaced
with a vengeance. Once he touched her lips for the first time, it
proved too late to rein them in. The ragged heat and the sweet pull
of desire overpowered any clear thought other than to take her into
his arms.
Claim her. Make her his.

His hand snaked out, grabbing her arm and
pulling her against him. She wanted to know where she stood with
him.
She was his
. Even knowing how illogical those words
were, he didn’t stop. She could never be his. She belonged to the
living and he belonged with the dead, but for now, for the time
between sunset and sunrise, his heart could not rationalize the
difference.

His lips sealed over hers and took
possession of her mouth. He expected her to pull away, slap him,
but instead she leaned closer, melting her body against his once
more. Her hands plunged into his hair, drawing his head closer to
her. She wanted this as much as he did. God, she tasted wonderful.
She smelled even better like the morning dew and sunshine.

Even as he plundered her mouth, he knew they
shouldn’t be out here in the open where Samael could find them. He
needed to hasten her away to safety, but the moment her scent
enveloped him, his brain faltered and his more primitive needs took
over. Pressed so close to him, she should know how much he wanted
her, but she didn’t shy away. His hands swept down the small of her
back. Her tongue boldly swept inside his mouth to mate with his.
His body trembled with need to take her, but he held back. One of
them needed to take control of the situation and fast. They were in
danger and in more ways than one.

He broke the embrace, the action almost
painful as the spell was broken and he could think clearly again.
Well…sort of. His breath was shallow and if she made one gesture to
step into his embrace again, his fragile hold of what must be done
would take second seat in his logical way of thinking.