Forbidden (The Gabriel Lennox Series Book 1) (10 page)

“Please, my Lady. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, shaking, arms wrapped around himself as if he tried to warm up from a coldness that Gabriel couldn’t feel, but he could definitely sense it coming from Lilith’s naked flesh.

He imagined that it would feel smooth and as cool as a snake’s. He had a sudden desire to touch her, to feed her with his own warmth. He clenched his fist until the nails dug into his palms. The bizarre desire passed.

Lilith glanced at Gabriel from the corner of her black eyes, smiling, before returning her attention back to Jules. “
Ahhh
, then show me how sorry you truly are. Speak those words to Gabriel. Now.”

Jules swallowed so hard, for all the dead silent room to hear. Jules turned to face him, still trembling. Pure hatred flickered in his light brown eyes. “Forgive me, my elect Prince. Forgive me for my impudence.”

“You are forgiven,” Gabriel said without much enthusiasm.

Lilith smiled. “Once an apology has been made and has been forgiven, it’s customary, Gabriel, that you heal the offender of his wounds by allowing him to drink of you.” With her long glossy nails, she slashed a fine line against the column of her own throat. “But in this case, because it was I who caused harm, it’s my blood that will be spilt in absolution.” She took Jules into her arms, and he immediately pressed his lips to her throat. Sucking and drinking, Jules all the while glared at Gabriel.

Almost immediately, his wounds healed and faded. Gabriel regretted seeing them disappear.

THE CHOSEN
MOVED CLOSER
, their movements synchronized. They floated toward Gabriel, Lilith, and Mikel in a beautiful and contrived manner, similar to their dancing earlier. And yet, the unity in those movements disturbed him, as if they all shared one mind.

Lilith draped her long hair over one shoulder. She clapped once, and within the span of a breath, Christopher appeared at her side. She whispered into his ear, and he came back quickly, holding Mikel by the hand. She walked over to Gabriel and wrapped a long, slender arm around his waist. “This is Gabriel, as you’ve all learned. It’s true that he has only Enlightened one,” she continued as she snaked her other arm around Mikel’s neck, “this beautiful musician, but it’s not quantity that counts but quality. Gabriel is very promising.”

A few murmurs rippled across the room in response to what she said, but Gabriel wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or otherwise. He simply didn’t care. He slipped out of her embrace, and Mikel did the same.

Lilith stretched her arms out to her audience. “Let the music play! Drink! Dance! Enjoy yourselves this night.”

Once the music started again, dancing and chatting went on as before. For the most part, the crowd from earlier had dispersed except for Alexander, who stared at him with his strange violet eyes. If he were a lion or a wolf, he would’ve taken this staring as a threat and mauled him.

“I have something for you, my fair prince,” Lilith whispered. “Tomorrow evening, I shall visit you and then you shall see.”

Gabriel thought to ask her what in God’s name she intended on bringing, but he knew he wouldn’t get a direct answer, and Alexander’s stare unnerved him. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, and Alexander simply smiled.

The white-haired vampire closed the space between them, bowing to Lilith, his eyes still on Gabriel. “My Lady, may I speak?”

Lilith gave him a nod.

“Despite Jules’ lack of respect, he has made a valid point. Gabriel seems very old, and on the surface, he looks perfect as our leader, but it’s true that he has only Enlightened one.”

“We’ve shared some dialogue about that already.” Lilith’s black eyes came round to looking at Gabriel. “And the concerns we discussed are going to change.” She smiled at him, and he wanted to slap her.

Jules stood against the wall, arms wrapped around himself. His mouth was drawn back tight against his teeth. Anger?
Well it’s a waste of energy to be angry
, Gabriel thought.

He walked past him, and Jules caught him by the forearm. He stood about the same height and had no trouble whispering directly in Gabriel’s ear: “This isn’t over. If I am to bend my knee to you, you’ll have to prove yourself—”

Gabriel smiled. “Prove myself? Why should I care about proving myself to you or anyone?” He gave a dry laugh, “Release me.”

Jules’ hold on Gabriel loosened. His mouth fell open, but no words came out. Jules’ fingers worked hard trying to hold onto him, but in a matter of seconds, Gabriel’s will prevailed, and Jules’ hand slipped off and rested like a dead weight at his side.

“Now
leave my presence
,” Gabriel ordered in a slow, deliberate voice.

Jules turned on his heels and walked through the room and out the exit, looking like a mechanical wind-up toy.

“Amazing,” Alexander sighed over Gabriel’s shoulder. “What you just did is amazing.”

“Telling someone to go away isn’t what I would call amazing. It’s quite simple, really.”

Alexander shook his head. “No. Jules isn’t one to back down from a confrontation. He’s impulsive and arrogant. There’s no way he would’ve left unless you
made
him do it.”

Gabriel stared at him and shrugged. “And you can’t do that?”

“To a human, yes. But to another Chosen? Never. That’s unheard of, Prince Elect. Lilith didn’t exaggerate when she said you were promising. This is . . . 
wonderful
.” Alexander’s violet eyes brightened with tears.

Tears.
Gabriel cringed. Oh God, he was getting melodramatic on him.

Before Gabriel could step away, Alexander took his hand and kissed it. “There are many who want to take your place as Prince Elect, but I won’t stand in your way. Not now, with what I’ve seen. Not now.” Alexander stepped out in the middle of the ballroom, his hands raised over his head. In a loud voice, he called for everyone to stop and pay attention. Gabriel could feel another scene about to unfold and dreaded it.

Without stopping to hear what Alexander would say, he told Mikel to follow him, which the latter did without question. Glancing at the dining room table, Gabriel noticed that Colin and Nathaniel had already relocated to one of the chaise lounges along the wall, near the exit door. Logically, they had not wanted to get hit by any flying objects as Jules got thrashed.

“It’s time to leave,” Gabriel said to Nathaniel.

He cocked his head to the side, smiling. “I’m proud of you, but do you really think it’s a good idea to leave once things have gotten so exciting?”

“Yes.”

Colin’s head rested on Nathaniel’s shoulder, eyes closed. He looked comfortable, or at least safe.

“For now, forget what you saw, Colin. I shall explain in more detail if you need me to once we get home,” Gabriel said, wanting to erase the boy’s fear.

Colin simply nodded without opening his eyes.

Hiding unshed tears? He knew that he would have done so.

Nathaniel stood up and followed, holding onto Colin. “Don’t worry about him, Gabriel,” he said. “I lulled him to sleep with my voice. He shouldn’t remember a thing . . . unless you want him to.”

“Splendid. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Mikel stood by the door, waiting, his dark blue eyes filled with secrets.

Just as Gabriel ascended the stairs to escape, he overheard Alexander speaking about him and his little song and dance with Jules. The music had stopped for the second time this night, so nothing could drown out or distract from Alexander’s ranting and raving.

“Our Lady does not exaggerate. The Prince Elect is a man of great power. I witnessed him do something that none of us can do. He can force his will upon others with his voice alone. ”

Gabriel looked over his shoulder, past the faces of Nathaniel, Mikel, and Colin and into the ballroom below. The Chosen had formed a semi-circle around Alexander and Lilith, murmuring to each other.

“So, we’re all unanimous as to Gabriel being the Prince,” Lilith stated. “Show respect.”

They all ceased whispering and murmuring. Alexander stepped back into the semi-circle, and as one, they turned to look at Gabriel and stooped to one knee in eerily perfect formation. In their center loomed Lilith. Gabriel gazed at seventy upturned faces shimmering under the chandelier’s light, shimmering with anticipation. Seventy still? With Jules missing, the number seemed off.

A tremor crept over the length of his body making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He began to ascend the last couple steps, but fell short when he felt Nathaniel’s hand on his shoulder.

Nathaniel’s touch—like his pale blue eyes—bit into his skin, cold and numbing.

He looked at him over his shoulder.

“Whether you admit it, Gabriel. This is what you want. What you’ve always wanted.” Nathaniel grinned at him. “Go on. Join your subjects.”

* * *

Gabriel returned downstairs, moving in a daze among the pale-faced Chosen, his kind. They passed him from one to another around the circle, touching him with their elegant hands, caressing his face, lacing their fingers through the length of his wavy hair. Someone kneaded his back while another rubbed his shoulders.

He came face to face with Lilith who seemed out of place with her dark skin testifying of sunshine from an African sky, but her large black eyes were slanted and finely lashed like an Oriental’s. Her slender, narrow nose resembled a Botticelli angel’s. Her full mouth puckered into a smile, yet her face remained a mystery.

No.
She
was a mystery.

“You look mystified, my fair prince. Do I displease you, confuse you?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.

Gabriel ignored her. Above, the chandelier’s lights suddenly snuffed out, leaving everyone in darkness, but their eyes, like cats’ or wolves’, saw easily. No one moved.

“What’s going on?” Gabriel asked the darkness.

The crystals on the chandelier tinkled and chimed like bells. He heard a deep, silvery voice in the tintinnabulation.

“This Gabriel looks promising, but will he fight for you? Protect you? Bring order to our world?
Hmmm
. I wonder . . .”

Men garbed in black flew out of the mirrored ceiling, dressed like fencers with masked faces and capes that flowed like black water behind them. Once they landed with grace to the floor, they drew swords from their sides. They began impaling the Chosen who just stood around him like statues.
Why aren’t they fighting?
One standing next to him—the female with ginger-colored hair—reached out her hands to him, her mouth moving like a fish gasping for air. Her eyes sparked wild with fear. His eyes worked over her body, lingering on her throat, and he saw why she couldn’t speak, couldn’t make a sound.
Why isn’t she healing?

Her windpipe had been torn out.

He reached out to help her, but when he felt sharp pain shooting into his back and driving through his chest, helping her, helping anybody became an afterthought. He looked down at his chest and saw that he had been impaled from behind. As he looked at the blade, the pain doubled. He couldn’t turn around, didn’t want to see what he already knew. From behind, someone drove the blade in deeper.

Blood blossomed out of his chest, and Gabriel felt himself falling, falling, as he screamed.

So, this is what it’s like to die?

For an instant, everything turned black. He must’ve closed his eyes. And when he opened them, Annabelle, the prostitute towered over him, dark circles under her blue dead eyes, an evil smile on her sallow face. Through the giant opening in her chest, he could see a blue sky and a burning sun. Crimson butterflies flew out of the cavity, and as they fluttered by his face, they transformed into real butterflies, the colors of a shattered rainbow. In the distance, he could see the silhouette of a girl playing with the winged insects. Just as he started to wake up, the unfamiliar girl began to take shape . . .

“I THINK
HE’S REGAINED
consciousness,” Alexander said. His white hair fell in his face as he leaned over, looking at Gabriel. His violet eyes filled with genuine concern and then brightened with delight as Gabriel stared back at him.

Gabriel’s hand went immediately to his chest where the assassin had stabbed him. He looked at his fingers. No blood. He wasn’t bleeding. What the hell happened?

“But can he make illusions?” the silvery voice asked. “Can he twist time and space? Mold reality, paint it with his own desires? Can he see the world through the eyes of a god?”

Gabriel lurched to his feet, not amused, and the circle of spectators widened for him, but didn’t disperse immediately. They were listening to the voice, too. The looks on most of their faces remained blank, but some of them looked afraid.

“Hmph. I didn’t think he could.” The voice came from behind him. Gabriel spun around to see the one who had disgraced him. The unremarkably young and slender upstart snapped his fingers and the gaslight torches flamed on, the light revealing an auburn cast to his short brown hair. Lavishly dressed in a vermillion robe that would have suited a medieval priest, he swaggered toward Gabriel, the folds of the robe opening to reveal knee-high, leather boots.

“No, I cannot,” Gabriel addressed him. “I don’t see the point of such fancy theatrics.”

He stood in his place waiting for his anger to quell. “Who put you up to this?” he asked.

The young man suddenly vanished, but his silvery laughter could be heard all around.

Illusions. Where had the little prick learned how to weave them? Lilith. Of course, Lilith. Gabriel glanced at her and caught her staring back at him. She pressed her index finger to her red, full lips. He knew what she wanted—for him to keep silent about her powers. But why?

She lowered her hand slowly, clenching it into a fist. Her black eyes shifted to where the young man had stood with such intensity that they flashed like burning coals. She gave Gabriel another warning glance. She spun around on the balls of her naked feet and rushed out of the room, her black hair flowing behind her.

For now, Gabriel chose to go along with her game because asking questions would just complicate things, and Lilith would probably tell him what he needed to know in her own time. But at least he would know sooner or later. For now, he would do as she expected from him.

For now.

The strange youth rematerialized directly in front of Gabriel. A beautiful woman with milky white skin and voluptuous brown hair that flowed all the way down her back held his hand. Her gown, the color and texture of a silky apricot hugged her body, accentuating all the right curves. When she caught him staring at her with her polished, soft gray eyes, Gabriel looked away.

“I’m Seth,” said the young man, extending a manicured hand. His eyes each had a different color: the right one shined green and the left amber.

Gabriel let Seth stand with his hand outstretched. If he shook his hand, he’d want to break it. Bastard. He wanted Seth to feel just as stupid as he had been made to feel minutes ago.

Seth’s shocked look seemed so unlike his initial arrogant expression that Gabriel had to laugh. Some of the Chosen burst into laughter, too.

Seth joined in, his laughter sharp, sounding like a knife’s blade scraping along metal. It was unnerving, and when the other laughter died, he stood a little taller in the resulting silence.

“You’ll have to excuse my behavior, Prince Elect,” he said in his condescending voice. “I was only trying to test the waters. Only wanting to see if you’ve got what it takes to lead us. Surely, you can’t be angry about something so noble.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You would do well to get to the bloody point.”

Seth fingered a crystal pin on the collar of his robe, a beautiful piece of jewelry, probably worth a small fortune. “Lord, you’re as charming as a cactus,” he said. “If you’re not careful, someone might want to challenge you and take the title.”

“Would that someone be you?”

Spreading his arms wide, Seth gave a dramatic shrug. ”Perhaps, or perhaps not. But I don’t think anyone would care to second that vote.” His strange eyes gazed on individuals in the crowd, stared each one down for a few seconds before he sneered at another. Within a couple of minutes, all of the Chosen moved away in small groups to return to dancing and drinking. The gray-eyed woman remained by his side. His lover, perhaps . . .

Fortunate bastard.

Seth squeezed the woman’s hand. “At last! Privacy. As you can see, I’m not well favored by the toadies, Prince Elect. I’m learning that it’s not just fear that one needs to rule. It takes another form of power. Charisma. You’re just glowing with it.”

“So you
do
want the Principality?” Gabriel asked, dismissing the compliment.

Seth let go of the woman’s hand and took one step forward. “I want what any immortal should want. Power. Omnipotence. Domination. But apparently, I’m a minority.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is, then. Lilith rejected you, didn’t she? You have my sympathy and my envy.”

Seth drew in a shallow breath through his long, slender nose. “I was told that you were a beauty among men, Gabriel, and thought it an exaggeration, but now that I’ve seen you in the flesh, the rumors were an understatement. And you know what they say about beautiful men?”

“No, I don’t. Amuse me with an answer.”

Seth smiled, showing off straight, white teeth. “That they’re the type that wants what they fear they can no longer have. You’re as beautiful as you’re stupid.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You’re quite the flatterer, but with that lovely woman on your arm, I find it hard to understand why you would even give me any attention unless you’re a lover of men.”

Seth laughed. “Oh no. No, not at all, but I know beauty when I see it. And Bela is a thing of beauty, too.” He turned to the woman, smiling at her. “This is the Prince, our Prince. Be respectful, Bela.”

He leaned over in a bow, and she curtsied. It looked too choreographed and perfect—they must’ve practiced it a dozen times to get it that synchronized.

Gabriel gave a tight smile. “No, you don’t need to do that. I’m not the Prince. Don’t.”

Seth’s weird eyes widened. “Not. The. Prince. Then that rumor is true, too? You really don’t want the title even after what has been decided? Even after they worshipped you like some god?”

“That’s just it. It’s not just a title. There’s more to it than that.”

“But you have the power to wipe away death. What’s there not to want?”

“Wipe away death? You exaggerate. You speak as if I should Enlighten every man, woman, and child on the planet. That’s absurd. Damned farcical.”

Seth looked pleased. “No, I respect your reasoning. Not everyone should have the right to live forever. Men aren’t equal, and with power comes privilege.” He laughed then. “Religion says that our souls are eternal, but that man is born to die. That contradiction can be made right. Man can and should be able to live forever.” He chuckled. “Well, some men.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Living forever. Tell me, what good will it do them?”
Yes, what good would immortality do for thieves, murderers, and rapists when the fear of death doesn’t stop them from plaguing humanity with their crimes?
He stared at Seth, hoping he didn’t have an answer.
Call it fate. Some people deserved to die so that others could live.

“I sense murderous desires in you,” Seth whispered, as if picking up on Gabriel’s thoughts.

Gabriel became wary, drawing into himself. He made his face a blank mask.
Could he do that
? he wondered.
This Seth, could he read minds?
His mind? He didn’t answer his own question, but only closed his eyes, as if doing so would shut the door to his inner thoughts.

“The commotion earlier.” Bela’s voice snapped him out of his passing panic. “Did you really let that mortal boy drink your blood?”

He smiled at her, glad she had spoken, and she rewarded him with a lovely smile that brightened her face. How long had Bela and Seth been there? He hadn’t noticed her in the crowd before, and she was quite noticeable. Perhaps Seth had shielded them with his clever illusions.

“I did it to see if I could look into his thoughts,” Gabriel told her.

She glanced at Seth and looked back at him in astonishment. “I’ve heard tales of such a blood bond, but never met any Chosen who could do it.”

Gabriel nodded. “I’m just full of surprises.”

As her gray eyes met his gaze, something stirred inside him. “And you drank from him without having the desire to Enlighten him?”

“That’s right.”

“But the taste of blood, don’t you find it . . . irresistible?” she asked, licking her lips.

He felt himself becoming aroused. “I suppose it gives me some kind of pleasure, but it’s not necessary for me to live. Nor should it be. I am beyond such tendencies. When I was mortal, I ate to live and not the other way around. And now that I am immortal, well, you understand, don’t you?”

“Immortal. Do you truly, madly, sincerely believe that we are?” Seth asked, the same knowing and irritating sweetness in his voice, which put Gabriel off.

He shielded his thoughts about the matter, lest they betray him. “Blood. Is it really necessary if we are gods in flesh? I have come to the conclusion that it isn’t,” Gabriel went on, ignoring him.

Seth smiled. “Well, well, well. You certainly
are
full of surprises. Not only can you will another Chosen to do as you please, but you can form blood bonds, too?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And now you tell me that you’ve no taste for the red wine of life?
Ahh
. Guess that means there’s more for us, then. You’re oh so very generous!”

Christopher, the blonde servant, descended the stairs into the ballroom with a young man dressed in a white tunic and a woman clinging to his arm. Neither would look at anyone but seemed to be watching their feet as they trundled along.

“Who are they?” Gabriel asked, but he already had a suspicion. The youth and girl were both dressed only in white tunics. Their feet were bare. The woman wore no rouge or color on her cheeks. She and her companion were pristine and clean as lambs prepped for slaughter. Gabriel smiled wryly at the idea of beautifying something before killing it.

“Food. Doesn’t it look delicious?” Seth shifted his weight from his right leg to the left and then cracked his knuckles as if getting ready for great physical exertion. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to help prepare our meal.”

“I’ll be over soon,” Bela called after him, but Seth didn’t seem to hear her and sauntered off.

Seth moved toward Christopher and the two humans. Inwardly, he grinned, glad to see him go. “Prepare the meal?” he asked Bela, pleased to be alone with her.

“As you’ve learned, Seth weaves illusions. It’s hard to get mortals to willingly give up their blood. So, what he does is exchange their blood for dreams. While we drink from them, they die peacefully with their wildest dreams coming true. He calls it ‘Dreaming Awake.’ It’s really quite clever and useful because of all the fresh blood we acquire. He’s very popular with our kind.” Bela paused to bite her bottom lip. “At least he used to be.”

He leaned in closer. “Used to be, huh?”

Her gray eyes darted around suspiciously to see if anyone was listening.

A naïve and adorable gesture. Eavesdroppers didn’t have to be looking to hear.

“Lately, Seth is known for being very cruel,” she said in a whisper. “Sometimes, he uses his power to torment others. We may be immortal, but we’re not immune to pain. He wants to be the Prince. He wants to rule, but . . .” She stopped and looked away.”

“Continue. Please,” he insisted, but she just shook her head.

He glanced at the two humans. “Do these victims, I mean, uh, participants, know that they’re going to die?”

Her face crinkled into a frown. “I really don’t know.”

He tucked his hand in the crook of her elbow and walked with her toward the man and woman. “Let us investigate.”

Suicide. That’s what it was. If mortals knew they were going to die and went to their deaths willingly, he couldn’t allow it. He hated suicide, maybe because he envied those who succeeded in doing it. They were free. Free from worry, pain, disappointment, and boredom. They weren’t prisoner to the sadness, emptiness, and chaos that they left behind for their loved ones long after they departed.

No. That wasn’t the real reason why he hated suicide.

It was weak to run away from a life that never made any promises about being fair. He remembered the day he had used his sword to cut the rope that suspended his sister from the tree. A useless act. Her neck had become impossibly narrow as if some giant with iron hands had wrung it until the bones broke. And even though he knew she had died, he had tried undoing the knot from around her throat. His nails chipped off, and the tips of his fingers bled and blistered, but still he tried, coaxing her and telling her that everything was going to be all right. But her wide, emerald eyes were as hard and stubborn as his as she stared off into a nothingness he could not see. Perhaps would never see.

Gabriel had kicked and screamed, his tears blurring his vision of her as Nathaniel had carried him away. He remembered something then—yes, a vague something—though he had the power to draw others back from the dead, it seemed as if those he tried to save would be hell-bent on dying anyway. Like Abigail. She had treated his gift like a curse. Something was wrong with him, but he didn’t know exactly what.

“Prince Elect, you’re squeezing me. Something troubling you?”

He loosened his grip on her arm. “Forgive me. My mind was miles away. And truly, it should be here. Right here.” He stared into her eyes until crimson tainted her milky white skin, which coaxed a smile out of him. “You may address me as Gabriel.”

She grinned up at him, her gray eyes shimmering like silver.

He glanced to the strange trio of Seth and the two humans. The human woman peered at him from the corner of her eyes before returning her gaze to Seth. Eyes closed, Seth stretched his hands in front of the man and woman with the air of a magician.