Curse of Tempest Gate (8 page)

She fought the urge to go to Michael. She
promised him she would stay put. She knew Michael couldn’t truly
die, but to stand there and watch Samael cut his throat proved too
much to endure.

She was about to step over the threshold,
when a movement caught her eye. Michael’s eyes fluttered open.
Samael was too intent on watching her that he failed to realize his
prey wasn’t helpless anymore, but he needed a distraction.

“Okay. I’ll come to you.” She stepped over
the threshold to prove she told the truth.

Samael removed the blade from Michael’s
throat. His smug smile grated on her nerves, but it wouldn’t be
there for long. He moved away from Michael. He took only a few
steps toward her before Michael leapt to his feet. His wings spread
wide and he rose into the air, his sword in his hand.

Samael turned. Stunned surprise lit his
features, as Michael’s sword swung toward his neck. The sharp blade
severed flesh and bone. His head fell from his shoulders and rolled
away as his body fell to the ground in a heap of twitching
limbs.

With Michael’s energy spent, he fell from
the air, hitting the ground hard. She ran over to him, her arm
going around his shoulders. “You defeated him.”

His gaze landed on her, giving her a small
sad smile. “This year, anyway.”

Those few words were a good dose of reality.
This battle meant nothing.

She gazed at the sky. The thunderclouds
still rumbled in defiance, but dark clouds couldn’t keep the
dawning of a new day from happening. The sky was already shades
lighter. Soon Michael and Samael would return to their stone
prisons to wait out another year.

Michael took hold of her hand, bringing it
to his lips for a final farewell. “I’ll not forget you, Clarity
Shaw.” His hand fell away.

“Don’t leave me.” She held his face between
her palms. “Fight it. Don’t go.”

“If I could obey, I would do so.” He looked
down at his side and she followed his line of vision. His wound
healed before her eyes, the skin knitting together as if he had
never been stabbed. “It’s almost time.” His heavy sigh was
heartbreaking.

He rose to his feet, tall strong and healed
to perfection once more.

She tore a glance at Samael. Even with his
death, the curse would not let him rest. His head flew back to his
body and reattached itself, breathing life into him again. Samael’s
gaze found them. His mouth opened to say something, but he faded
away before he had the chance. His smoke-like body whirled away
from them and made a beeline to the awaiting devil’s chair.

Michael turned away. “I have to go.” His
limbs moved as if someone controlled him. He was nothing more than
a puppet to his fate.

She followed him, wishing, praying for the
ability to free him.

His feet stepped onto the pedestal. He
turned to look at her for the last time. His blue eyes starting to
glaze over, the sadness emanating from them would be frozen within
the stone. She stepped up on the pedestal and threw her arms around
his neck, the rest of his body turning to stone, even as she willed
him not to.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you.” She
leaned up and kissed his cold lips. As she did so, lightning
struck, hitting both of them in an explosion of light.

Chapter Ten

Clarity opened her eyes and blinked. A man
stood over her, his blue eyes all so familiar, but her muddled
brain refused to give her a name. “Are you okay, Miss?” he asked,
clearly worried about her.

Okay?
She didn’t know. Her gaze took
in the gravestones and crosses. She was lying on the damp ground in
a graveyard. That couldn’t be good.

Voices drew her attention. They weren’t
alone. A fire marshal and the police were taping off the area where
the ground was burned. She forced her limbs to move and sat up.
“What happened?”

“Lightning happened.” A policeman walked up
behind the man with the blue eyes. “You really shouldn’t have been
out here in a storm. It isn’t safe. Hester Higgins found that out
the hard way. You two were luckier. The lightning only grazed
you.”

She rubbed the back of her head where the
nasty bump was located. She grimaced at the touch.
Lightning?
Something more happened here than a lightning storm, but what was
it?

“Let me help you back to the hotel.” The
blue-eyed man, who obviously had been with her last night, offered
his hand to help her to her feet. She noticed for the first time
that he wore period clothing—leggings, breeches, waistcoat, and to
complete the outfit there was a fancy cravat at his neck. Then she
remembered. Halloween was last night. He wore a costume. Had there
been a Halloween party in the graveyard?

She reached for his hand. His gentle grip
was strong as he pulled her to her feet. “Thank you.” Her gaze
shifted to the Archangel statue that stood behind him.

She froze. Images flashed in her mind—angel,
ghost, demon, and a duel to the death. She slipped from the man’s
grip and moved closer to the effigy of the archangel. She
remembered taking photos of this statue…was it only yesterday? Yes,
she was here to write a story. Funny, the statue didn’t look so
vibrant now, the carvings not as detailed. It was as if the life
was gone from it. Then she remembered she’d taken a picture of the
angel. Her hand slipped into the pocket of her windbreaker,
withdrawing the camera. She tried to turn it on. She wasn’t
surprise to find the camera was fried. A bolt of electricity would
do that. She had no evidence of the statue coming alive.

Her hand went to the lump on the back of her
head, tentatively touching it. Had she dreamt the whole outrageous
night? She must have because to think otherwise was crazy. She
turned her gaze toward the devil’s chair that now lay broken and
splintered as if a sledgehammer had been taken to it. “It’s
destroyed.” She hadn’t realized she spoke out loud until the police
officer addressed her.

“I’d say. It’s nothing but rubble now. Can’t
say I’m not glad. With the devil’s chair gone, it’ll keep the kids
out of the cemetery on Halloween. Make’s my life easier now that
the legend’s been put to rest.”

“Chuck,” another officer called to him.

“Be right there.” He waved back. “Will you
be all right, Miss? The doctor’s been by to see you. He believed
your injuries were minor, but you should still make an appointment
to see your own doctor.”

“Do not worry, officer. I will take care of
her,” the blue-eyed man told him.

She stared at him now, wondering why he
would make such a promise. How did she know him?

“Then if you’ll excuse me.” The officer
headed over to where he was needed.

Sensing she was staring at him, the
blue-eyed man turned to look at her. “Is something amiss?” His lips
twitched at the corners as he tried not to smile.

The morning sun lit his features and the
night’s events sharpened in her mind. “Is it you?” Her voice came
out in a hoarse whisper. Her legs felt weak and she swayed on her
feet. She would have fallen, but the man moved with sure quick
steps. His strong arms went around her and he easily swept her off
her feet, bringing her against his chest. The sudden movement
jolted her, making her head swim. Automatically, her arms went
around his neck.

“I better carry you back to the hotel.” He
left no room for her to protest since he started walking toward the
cemetery gate.

God, she felt stupid. Of course last night
couldn’t have been real. What was she thinking? “I’m usually not
the fainting type of gal.”

“I know,” he said with a confidence that
made her frown.

“You know? Who are you?” Something floated
in front of her, tickling her nose. She swiped at it, only having
it land on her chest. Her fingers picked it up and she stared at
the cream colored feather before her gaze riveted to his.

His lips curved wide and his eyes, the color
of the sky, burned bright.

“It’s you, isn’t it? I’m not crazy. Last
night did happen.”

“Yes, it is all as you remember.”

She pulled back to look at him. “You’re free
of the curse.”

He chucked. “It would appear so.”

“Omigod, the connection to the stories. I
get it now.”

“You do?” He halted his steps and put her
down among the pink lady’s slippers and starflowers that carpeted
the floor in an array of colors. They stood beneath the white pine
trees mixed with hemlock and red oak, the gold, orange, and green
leaves gently rustling around them.

She nodded. “The kiss was the answer all
along, but it had to do with timing. When you were flesh and blood,
it had no effect. All the characters in the fairytales had the
curse in place. So when their—”

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing
her. “Female, you talk too much. I already know the answer. The
magic of your kiss awakened me.” He leaned down, silencing her
further by covering her mouth with his. His breath was hot, his
lips soft, and his kiss just as heavenly as she remembered it to
be.

Chapter Eleven

One Month Later

Clarity checked her caller ID before she
answered her phone. It was her editor at
Unbelievable Finds
.
“Hello, Loretta.”

“Hello yourself. I just wanted to let you
know I’ve finished reading your piece about the legend surrounding
the Tempest Gate Cemetery. It’s too bad you couldn’t get a picture
of the devil’s chair, too. That would have been something. Anyway,
it’ll be in next month’s issue.”

“Great, I look forward to picking up a
copy.” Clarity told the true story about the Legend of Tempest Gate
Cemetery, minus a few details. No one would believe her anyway.

“Now for the real reason I called.”

Clarity knew there had to be an ulterior
motive. Loretta could have emailed her to let her know when the
story would be published. “Yes?”

“What is it with you reporters? I sent
Aubrey to California to investigate a magic box and she hooks up
with an old fling. You take your first assignment in New Hampshire
and meet…who did you say he was again?”

“Michael Davenport.”

“Hmm, yes. Michael Davenport, the
great-great…good Lord, how many greats are in front of nephew?
Anyway, a relative to one of the infamous ghosts that haunts the
Tempest Gate Cemetery. He’s the owner of the hotel you’re staying
at. Am I right?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but kept on
talking. “I’m staring at the email you sent me, telling me that
you’re marrying this guy. I’m all for soul mates and true love, but
you’ve only known this guy for a month. Do you know how crazy that
sounds?”

If Loretta knew the true story, then she
would really have a reason to think she was crazy. “What can I say,
I fell for the guy.” Clarity’s lips curved. She could hear Loretta
tapping a pencil on her desk, a habit of hers when she was
frustrated.

Michael entered the hotel, carrying an
armload of firewood. He wore faded, snug jeans that fit the man all
too well and a dark blue sweater, which complimented his incredible
eyes. Last week, he had his golden strands trimmed above his ears,
flattering his chiseled features.

He turned to look at her with his lopsided
grin and his gaze wavered over her in appreciation. Man, with one
look, he could make her feel like she was the prettiest woman he’d
ever seen.

“Just how did you know he was the one?”
Loretta finally asked with an exasperating sigh.

Michael strode over to her, slipping his
arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, relishing the
warm strength he offered. Like the Archangel Michael, he would
protect her at all costs and she would have his back, too. “What
can I say, Loretta? The magic was in the kiss.”

The End

Author Notes:

Behind the Scenes – The Devil’s Chair

The Devil’s Chair or haunted chair is
actually a memorial carved effigy. Graveyards included these chairs
for comfort. They were meant for mourning chairs, a place for a
person to sit in comfort while they visited their love one’s grave.
Once the custom of these chairs fell into disuse, superstitions
began, tripping a new legend into existence.

The urban legend of the Devil’s Chair varies,
but one legend states: if you wander into the cemetery at midnight
and sit in the chair something bad will happen to you.

Other legends believe it’s how many times you
sit in the Devil’s Chair, three being the magic number for
doom.

Sit in the chair once and you’ll have bad
luck.

Sit in it for a second time and you’ll be
cursed.

If you’re foolish enough to sit in it for a
third time, death will claim you.

Still another legend believes if the person
is brave enough to sit in the chair at midnight on Halloween night,
he or she will be punished for impudence or rewarded for
courage.