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Authors: Karen Michelle Nutt

Tags: #paranormal romance, #good vs evil, #karen michelle nutt, #curses and legends, #devils chair

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BOOK: Curse of Tempest Gate
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Clarity stepped away from him, her hand
going to her mouth, her eyes wide, confused, and dazed with
passion. She shook her head. “This isn’t right. You’re…I don’t know
what you are.”

He reached for her hand and put it to his
chest. “For tonight, I’m alive. Perhaps it has been you all along
that I’ve waited for. I feel it. You can break the spell.”

She yanked her hand free. “Samael wants my
blood and what exactly do you want from me? And don’t deny you’re
after something.”

“I won’t deny it.” He could see it in her
eyes; he surprised her with his answer. “I want you.” There he said
it, put it out there, and it couldn’t be taken back. The truth
would either frighten her or it would ease her mind. Surely, her
reaction to his kisses couldn’t be dismissed. Her body felt the
pull. What had Mr. Donner said? Souls meant to be together would
find each other. Maybe his soul could still be redeemed.

Her brows lifted high on her forehead and
her gaze slid down to where his obvious attraction for her was
evident. “Believe me, I’ve noticed,” she said dryly.

Heat rose in his face and his cheeks felt
hot, but he wouldn’t deny the obvious. He didn’t have time to court
her in a conventional way. He had hours to convince her to stand by
him or all would be lost. “Yes, I want you in a…very human way,
too.”

“In a human way? What other way is there?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t do kinky.”

Through the ages the language had changed
and he picked up most of the alterations and the different usage of
the words, but now and again a word baffled him. By her wary
expression, he would bet
kinky
was not a good thing to her.
“I would never do anything you would not want to do.” He placed his
hand over his heart. “On my honor, you have my word.” This seemed
to put her at ease. Her features relaxed a fraction as she tried to
process what happened between them. “I know you do not wish to hear
this, but you are of Sophie’s blood,” he reminded her.

“The witch.” She rolled her eyes.

He nodded, searching for just the right
words to say to her. “You have awakened me. You’ve awakened the
human soul in me. In all the centuries, no one has managed that
feat.”

Her gaze landed on his wings and he pulled
them close to his body, embarrassed by the appendages. “I cannot
help what Sophie’s curse made me, but my future, my life is in your
hands.”

Clarity closed her eyes in a deliberate
blink and she inhaled deeply before she looked at him again. This
time it was with less hostility. “I can’t help you, Michael. I
don’t possess the power to release you from the curse. I’m not a
witch.”

He believed her, but she did hold some kind
of power. Maybe it was simply because she was from Sophie’s
bloodline. It would make sense if Samael wished to use her blood
for his dark magic. No matter what else happened this night, he had
to make sure she was safe. They were already out in the open too
long. “Come with me.”

“What? Why?” Again her expression filled
with uneasy worry.

“Please, if you are willing, I’ll you show
you how you can help me to put an end to this hell I’ve lived in.
Together we can defeat Samael and in exchange, I’ll keep you safe
from harm.”

Chapter Seven

 

Clarity’s gaze swept over him, wings and
all. He’d been cursed and turned to stone, an effigy of the
Archangel Michael. Were his features anywhere close to what the
real man had looked like? If so, he sure had her attention. What
was she saying? Her gaze landed on the wings and she swallowed the
lump threatening to choke her. She had the hots for an angel, a
cursed one at that.

“Samael is a danger to you.”

He didn’t have to remind her. She already
knew that first hand.

Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning
blazed the sky. Michael glanced up and frowned. “Come on, he’s
near.” He offered his hand, his gaze latching onto hers as he
waited for her to make the decision whether to trust him.

A high-pitched bellow behind her was all the
encouragement she needed. Her hand grabbed his and his warm fingers
curled around hers with a gentle squeeze. “I’m with you,” she told
him.

He nodded, his lips curving at the corners.
“It is not I you want to be with, is it? It is just you feel it is
better to be with me than what lies behind you.”

“Well, yeah.” She really wasn’t into
pretending at this point. She hadn’t decided if this was all a
dream brought on by the bump on her head or if the legend had truly
come alive. Either way, her survival mode switched on the moment
Samael appeared on the scene. “What is Samael? He can’t keep a
solid form for long.”

He glanced over his shoulder as they
continued toward the burnt ruin. “He’s a spirit, his corporeal body
ravished when Sophie struck him with her wrath. Be well aware, he
doesn’t have to be solid to do damage, but he’s more lethal when he
is.”

“You’re flesh and blood now, aren’t
you?”

His light eyes slid over her, making it
painfully obvious he was flesh and blood enough to want her. He
looked away and she felt suddenly cold. “I can bleed. If that is
what you ask.”

“Not exactly. I was wondering why you’re
still sporting wings. I mean, you really aren’t an angel…are
you?”

“It is the curse. I am neither human nor
angel, just a spirit representing a combination of both. I can feel
pain. I can bleed and I can die, but at the end of the night when
the sun rises again, I’ll turn to stone once more, frozen and
waiting for another person to sit upon the devil’s chair. I’m
cursed to defend no matter the cost.”

No matter the cost.
His words sunk in
with a chilling effect. He suffered each time a person sat in the
chair. Fight. Bleed. Die. Dear Lord in heaven. “How many times have
you died?” They reached the ruin. The smell of burnt wood still
permeated the air. He helped her over the threshold laden with
debris. She turned and looked at him. “How many times?”

His shoulders slumped and his ageless blue
eyes lost their luster. “So many times, I have lost count.”

She reached for him, but he moved out of her
reach, his eyes hardening. “Do not pity me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. It is a curse, female, meant
to punish.”

She frowned. “But for how long?”

“Forever.” He moved on, leaving her to
follow him or not.

It was darker in here but at least the fog
didn’t venture inside. “Forever,” she whispered then hurried to
catch up to him. “But there must be a way to break the curse.”

He whirled around to face her. His large
body overshadowed her and she had to step back. “I have been
stabbed and shot in this...” He looked down at himself, the wings
opening then coming to his side with a snap. “...this state of
being and still I wake up in the morning frozen in the position the
witch put me in.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you know you’re
frozen? You are aware of all that goes on around you?”

“Earlier, you walked around me, touching my
wings like a caress. You said my legs distracted you.” He lifted
his brow, waiting for her to try to deny it.

Her hand flew to her mouth. She swallowed
back the tears, knowing he didn’t want her pity, but by God, his
life was hell on earth. Frozen to view life from inside a stone
statue. “And Samael, how does he view life? Is he the devil’s
chair?”

Michael shrugged. “His spirit is trapped
within the chair. Like I said before, he has no corporal body but
it doesn’t stop him from trying to obtain one.”

It all made sense then. “Sitting in the
chair gives him the opportunity.”

He nodded. “Humans are such fools.”

“Humans? Michael, you were once human. Have
you forgotten?”

He didn’t answer. “Follow me.” He headed
down the hall at an even pace. The blackened walls and floor were a
testament of the fire that ravished the home. She didn’t understand
why he had brought her here. What did he want to show her?

He halted his steps in front of a door. His
hand gripped the charred handle, turning the knob and opening the
door. They were on the side of the house that wasn’t damaged by the
fire. The sconces on the wall lit as they entered. The burgundy
sofa sat against the wall with a tapestry hanging above it. The
ornate fireplace looked as if it had just been carved. The bookcase
stood filled with books untouched by time.

Her brows furrowed. “This can’t be. This is
an illusion.” She looked at Michael, wanting an explanation.

He sighed and explained with patience.
“Forget the world you live in. Until the sun rises, you are in the
world Sophie created for Samael and for me. This side of the
caretaker’s home is the side of light. You will be safe here, but
you must not leave this room. Promise me, no matter what happens
you’ll remain here.”

His gaze latched onto her, demanding she
give him the answer he needed to hear. She crossed her arms across
her chest, letting him know she didn’t like his demand, but she
would give it if only to relieve his mind. “I’ll stay.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze
burning a path over her features as he tried to discern if she
spoke the truth. Finally, he nodded. “Good.”

She would stay put.
Unless you need my
help
, she thought to herself.

Michael strode to the bookcase and removed a
leathered bound book from the shelf. He turned to face her. “This
book has information about how to break the curse.”

She stared at him dumbfounded. If he had the
book, why hadn’t he used it to his advantage? “Correct me if I’m
wrong, but you have the means to release yourself from all
this?”

He shook his head. “I cannot do it myself.
Someone from the outside must manage the feat.”

“Mmm…hmm. Do you really expect me to believe
no one has tried to help you?”

“The connection was not there. Everything
must be lined up correctly. What do you see in this room,
Clarity?”

“Why?”

“It is the answer to your question. Humor me
and tell me what you see.”

“A lighted room with a sofa, fireplace and
bookcase…and this is ridiculous.”

Michael ignored her outlandish reply and
continued to push her. “What do I hold in my hand?” When she didn’t
answer, he took a step toward her. His gaze held her still as he
pleaded for her to answer him. “What do you see in my hand?”

“A book. You’re holding a book.”

He let out a sigh of relief, which only
proved to confuse her more.

“You see within the illusion. No one has
been able to see what I see here. No one has been able to breach
the plane of my existence, but you have.”

His words finally sunk in. She crossed over
some line, some point where his life hung in the balance between
life and death and he believed she could change his fate. Her gaze
met his. “You think I can cross you back over to the living.”

He nodded. “I believe so. It’s the first
time I have had hope.”

“Is the answer in the book?” She nodded
toward the item in question.

He glanced at the book he held in his hand
then to her. “It has a different glow about it.” He paused as if
waiting for her reaction.

“I don’t see anything odd about its
appearance.”

His head lowered and his shoulders slumped
as if somehow she’d disappointed him.

“May I?” Her hand reached for the book and
he handed it to her. She flipped through the pages, scanning the
contents and reading a few paragraphs. “These are fairytales.”

His gaze riveted to hers in surprise. “You
can see writing on the pages?”

“Of course I can. Can’t you?”

He shook his head. “The pages are blank to
me, but the binding has a radiant glow around it, like a beacon
pulsing. No other book on the shelf has this appearance. You say
the stories are fairytales. I don’t understand. I was sure it was a
spell book.”

She flipped through the pages again,
wondering if she had missed something. Maybe the spells were hidden
within the stories, but she could find nothing that stood out. “The
tales are: Sleeping Beauty, The Princess and the Frog…hmm…Snow
White and Beauty and the Beast.”

“I do not recognize these stories. Are they
familiar to you?”

She looked at him, her brows furrowed in
concentration. “Some of these would have been written after you
were cursed.”

His deep sigh was of a man exhausted and
ready to give up. “Then this is not the book we seek.”

“Maybe it is. You told me what I see in this
room is an illusion. The book holds blank pages for you, but I see
stories. Maybe if another person from the Peabody bloodline entered
this world, the book would reveal something else entirely to them.”
Her hand slid down one of the pages. “There’s a connection to each
of the stories. Perhaps, it’s a clue I need to break the
curse.”

His gaze locked onto her. “Explain?”

“The book is about people who were cursed in
one way or the other. They were folktales passed on through the
ages. Maybe there’s a bit of truth to them.”

He nodded. “I’m listening. Go on.”

“Sleeping Beauty was cursed to die, but a
fairy took pity on her. She couldn’t break the spell but she could
alter it. Sleeping Beauty would sleep until her one true love
awakens her with a kiss. In the Princess and the Frog, a prince was
cursed to live out his life as a frog. Only a kiss from a princess
could break the curse. Do you see a pattern here?”

“I take it that in the stories, Snow White
and the Beauty and the Beast, a kiss broke the curses as well?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“But we’ve kissed,” he voiced the obvious.
His lips flat lined against each other and his brows drew
together.

Silence radiated between them as precious
time ticked on with no clear cut answers to help them.

BOOK: Curse of Tempest Gate
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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