Forbidden (The Gabriel Lennox Series Book 1) (17 page)

SETH REMOVED
THE JEWELED PIN
from his collar and placed it on the mahogany dresser.

The crystal twinkled. “Gabriel will kill you,” Tipereth warned.

“Is that what you want?” Seth wondered aloud. Tipereth said nothing, and Seth shrugged in the silence. “Let me take my chances.”

“When you’re nothing but a corpse, it’ll be too late to take chances. In order to have immortality —not the
counterfeit
that your erstwhile Chosen have, you must make the bond with me. Soon.”

“Oh, but I intend to make a soul bond,” Seth said, “but not with you. You couldn’t be the only one that can make such offers.”

“You noticed the child isn’t really a child, then.” Seth found the hint of surprise in Beautiful Light’s voice most flattering.

He nodded. He couldn’t explain how he sensed that the child, Nikolai, was different–not human. Perhaps he had become so attuned with not trying to be “human” himself that he had built up some kind of sixth sense for the otherworldly. “He’s special. Like you, which means I don’t have to waste my time with you any longer. I won’t have to wait for promises that you never intended to keep.”

“You forget,” Beautiful Light said coldly, “that Nikolai isn’t like human children. He’s a Nephilim, and we’re not easily controlled. What makes you think that he has to cater to you,
human
?”

“Children are easy to manipulate. And this boy is no different, no matter what you’d like to believe,” Seth said. “Human or not. We all want one thing: to survive, no matter the cost. I can entice him—”

“You and your kind,” Beautiful Light went on, “these
Chosen,
want to live forever, but still they’re merely men—”

“What of Gabriel? Is
he
merely a man? This is the thousandth time I’ve asked you, and you give me no answer.”

“Gabriel is . . . different,” Tipereth explained grudgingly, as if he were regretting giving up this detail. “And that’s all I will say on the matter. For now. What matters most is that you want to become greater than Gabriel. Likewise, if you enter the soul bond with me, then you,
you
alone will exceed the others. Far greater than Lilith even. A god.”

Seth smirked. “Aha. So that’s it then? Lilith, whom you despise. You want revenge, and you’re using me as a tool, your little puppet to acquire it. Is that it? Hmph. If you think that I shall avenge you, you’re wrong. It’s not my fault that that witch cursed you.”

He sensed Beautiful Light glaring at him. Seth looked closely, and made out the hazy, iridescent outline of a form (not quite a body) in the light, twice the height of a normal man’s. Realizing the imposing figure belonged to Tipereth, he looked away quickly. What would outsiders think after gazing into the mirror? They would probably think that grime and dust had marred its surface and suspect nothing more. But more importantly, when had the fallen angel acquired a
visible
shape?

“How is it that you
lost
your body?” Seth asked. “Even though you never told me, I think you’re some kind of evil spirit. A demon, perhaps.”

“
Lost
.” Tipereth laughed, and Seth felt an aching cold gnawing inside of him, sucking away his energy. “I did not
lose
my body. I merely lost the ability to manifest my form in this primitive realm.”

Seth pointed to the mirror. “But there, I can make out something.” Wiping at the mirror did nothing, and what looked like a smear wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he scrubbed. “It is
you
.”

“I absorbed the blood and energy of those you’ve killed and used it to produce what you see . . .”

Seth leaned back in the chair and placed his hands behind his head. “Can you never become corporeal again?”

“There’s a possibility. However, acquiring a new body would be far easier.”

Seth snorted. “I find that hard to believe. Not to be rude, but if that’s all that needs to be done, then why haven’t you done so already?”

“Many factors fall into place. First of all, the soul in the body must be close to departing, and the owner must be willing to allow me access to his or her body. But I don’t care to inhabit the body of just anyone. I’m waiting for the right body and the right time. I’ve grown patient. And I can wait for many more years to come. If necessary. . .” Tipereth seemed to sigh. “But given the destructive path you’re on, sweet Seth, I don’t think I’ll have to wait much longer. No, not at all.”

A numbing coldness spread in the middle of Seth’s spine. He took the crystal pin and placed it in one of the drawers of the cedar box on his dresser. He stayed up the rest of the night watching it.

BEAUTIFUL LIGHT:
AN ANGEL
with flowing hair and serene eyes. The longer Gabriel stared at Nathaniel, the more he seemed to fit the description. Nathaniel flipped the pages of his book. He must’ve sensed Gabriel looking at him, for he glanced at him with a quick flicker of his sky blue eyes.

His eyes. Yes, except for the eyes. Nathaniel’s eyes weren’t exactly serene, but cold, piercing, and old. Still, he couldn’t help but hope that Nathaniel had Enlightened Seth because if he had, perhaps Nathaniel could sway him to do what Gabriel wanted with his authority. He hoped in vain, though.

Nathaniel
couldn’t
be Seth’s maker.

He wouldn’t bother asking. Something else troubled him.

“Nathaniel, are Mikel and I—” Gabriel began, stopping in mid-sentence. He shifted his gaze to the adjacent room, where the steady stream of Mikel’s piano playing flowed. He didn’t have to finish his question. He already knew the answer.
Mikel and I are linked. By my blood
. With dread, he wondered how long it would take for a similar connection to develop between Colin and him. A chilling iciness pinpricked over his flesh.

Standing up, Nathaniel moved toward the fireplace and tossed the book in the red and amber flames. “Didn’t like the ending. I shall have to write my own . . .” He looked at Gabriel. “Are Mikel and you what?”

“Are we like Bela and Seth?” Yes, he thought, that sounds less provocative. “Is there a connection between us?”

Nathaniel smiled and crossed one leg over the other. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what I’m feeling isn’t just a figment of my imagination?”

“What you’ve only begun to feel. Over time, this connection will strengthen. Eventually, it’ll become more intimate.”

Gabriel stood up and faced him.
More intimate
? Bloody hell, he had already begun using some of Mikel’s sayings and adopting his flirtatious mannerisms. He felt his face grow warm, remembering how he had behaved with Bela. Like a Lothario.

“Since I don’t have a blood-child of my own, I can only speak of what others say,” Nathaniel said. “Regarding emotions, you’re able to share, perhaps even experience the feelings of your blood-children and they yours.”

“You’re joking,” Gabriel argued. “You have to be. I feel no such connection to Lilith.”
Perhaps, it wasn’t she
, his inner voice said,
who made you
. He pushed that mental note further. Lilith, after all, hadn’t fed him blood . . .

Nathaniel remained silent.

Gabriel stared at the wall behind Nathaniel’s head with such intensity it should’ve burst into flames. He couldn’t look at the other man directly. Eye contact would make this betrayal seem all the more personal.

Betrayal. Yes, Nathaniel was guilty of keeping him ignorant.

“If I had known that such a bond was a result, I would never have Enlightened anyone,” Gabriel lamented, after a long while.

“I know,” Nathaniel replied. “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He raised an open hand in a kind of shrug, a demure smile playing on his face. “Come now, come now, Gabriel, it really isn’t all that bad. I think that you’ve just become comfortable with being alone. Too comfortable.”

He bared his teeth in what wouldn’t pass as a smile. “I enjoy being alone.”

Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow. “Believe what you like. But a familial blood bond isn’t the worst. . .”

Gabriel gave him a poisonous look. “Oh? Really? Then what are these other bonds, so that I can feel fortunate for having formed one? And what you said to Lilith about me . . . sleeping. It’s true then. That would certainly explain a lot. Well? Have you nothing to say on the matter?”

He settled into the uncomfortable silence again, scowling at his friend, who had betrayed his trust. Surely, Nathaniel knew how angry he had made him. How could he had omitted something so important? He worked his hands into fists before unclenching them at his sides. He reached out and caught Nathaniel by the throat and shoved him hard against the wall as murderous anger, fiery hot surged through him. Without flinching, Nathaniel placed his hands on top of Gabriel’s, and a wounded look welled up in his eyes.

“Be at ease. Over time, you’ll learn to control the strength of the familial blood bond. But for right now, think of the possibilities it gives you. Please.”

He recoiled, his fingers loosened on Nathaniel’s throat. His plea had startled him. Did Nathaniel, who never regretted anything, feel remorse?

He wanted to hold onto this useless red-hot anger. His rage, as red as blood and hot as fire slowly faded to a cool blue. He released his chokehold and turned away, feeling like a petulant child. Ashamed, he peered at Nathaniel over his shoulder and found his expression unusually warm and soft.

“Since you and Mikel are connected,” Nathaniel went on, “it would be logical to think that Bela and Seth are connected. Perhaps,
if
you drink some of Bela’s blood, you’ll be able to acquire a bit of Seth’s power.”

He licked his lips, trying to pry some moisture in his suddenly dry mouth. “Is that normal? Can other Chosen do this?”

He shook his head. “You’re special. That’s one of the reasons why Lilith chose you. Wanted you. Your power is quite parasitic. You’re able to somehow make the powers of others your own.”

He glanced around the room, thinking. “You said
if
. I want guarantees.”

Nathaniel gave a slight nod. “That’s all I can say, but I trust that you’ll find another way to make the battlefield more equal.”

“I do enjoy my solitude, Nathaniel. And what’s more, I crave independence, and I can’t maintain that if you keep me ignorant. Keeping things from me may seem noble, but you’re wrong. It’s betrayal.”

Nathaniel smiled, and his eyes didn’t seem as empty and cold as usual. “So, you understand my motives?”

Gabriel nodded. “But if you want to stay by my side, then you mustn’t keep things from me. You must be open with me. No more secrets. . .”

He blinked. “Yes, my Prince. No more secrets.”

Gabriel stepped out of the room, making his way into the study. He scrawled a brief note with a fountain pen on a piece of formal stationery bordered with roses and winged angels and sent Colin with it to the addressee. He brushed his hair and splashed cologne water on his wrist before he looked into the mirror. He would have to change into something more romantic to play the part in his next meeting with Bela.

He didn’t want the battlefield equal.

He wanted to win.

* * *

Seth’s power. Where did it come from?

“I need to know more about Seth,” Gabriel told Bela. He had Colin send her upstairs to his bedroom. He hadn’t thought that she would come so quickly, and without question.

He hadn’t had time to put away the rejected clothes for this evening of . . . seduction, for lack of a better word. So, just as he had heard footsteps ascending the stairwell, he flung the rejects into his closet.

He had settled for wearing an ensemble reminiscent of the fifteenth century. A long-sleeved cream-colored shirt that tapered at the wrist and fell over his fingers. He deliberately left the shirt unbuttoned so that the lacy collar flowed over his smooth chest and completed the look with tan pants. Despite Bela’s apparent irritation, her cheeks flushed red every time her eyes glanced over his body.

“Why should I tell you anything?” She pouted and had to tilt her head back to look up at him. She sat on his bed, leaning back on her hands.

“Still sore about earlier. Forgive me, my lady,” Gabriel said while bowing low to her, “for being brutally honest.” If she took his words and gentlemanly mannerisms for mockery, so be it. He straightened and gave her a tender smile. The kind of smile that he had seen sweet, dove-like Michel use often in the company of women. “You look lovely this evening.” On his lips, the smile, the flattery felt contrived and as artificial as the expressions on doll faces. How did Mikel do it? How did he stand it without wanting to laugh or sneer?

Bela’s gray eyes cooled. “Hmph. You were so quick to send me away, and now you send for me. Seeking my help. I’m not as weak as you think. Why should I help you?”

The smile faded away. “By helping me, you’ll be helping yourself. Seth is a threat to everyone. And as you told me, I think that threat lies within himself.” He could relate. When his life had been breaking to pieces, he wanted to drag the whole world down with him. Like a caged animal, he viewed everything as either food or foe.

Bela stared at him for a while and then looked away, as if considering what he had told her, rolling it over in her mind. “All right. I’ll help you. But there’s something that I want you to do for me.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “One thing?”

The way she gazed hungrily into his eyes gave him a hint as to what she wanted. If she desired sex, he’d chastise her with one of his mirthless laughs and tell her to leave, which would defeat his purpose for having her here.

But…

He had a gut feeling that she wanted something more provocative. Good.
This is going to be easy. Far too easy
.

“Is the door locked, my Prince?” Her voice held an abrupt sultriness.

“Of course,” Gabriel told her.

Bela rose from the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed herself against him. Gabriel lifted her up into his arms and carried her onto the bed. He lay on top of her and brushed his lips against her throat. He inhaled the artificial scent of roses and beneath, he tasted the natural saltiness of her skin with his tongue.

“Please,” Bela whispered into his ear. “Please, don’t torment me. Pierce me, Gabriel. Pierce me.” Her fingers tangled into the mass of his hair.

Pierce me, she had said. Gabriel smiled, feeling the sharp points of his teeth and did just that.

* * *

Bela lay on the bed, her long, dark hair spread out in disarray, enhancing the paleness of her beautiful face. “Wonderful,” she breathed, arching her throat as she writhed on the bed in a languid, sensual manner. “Glorious. Better than sex.”

“Really?” Gabriel asked, disbelief thick in his voice. He had never bared his neck to anyone before, so he took her word on the matter with reluctance.

“
Ohhh
yes. Would you like me to?” she said huskily. “Come here then . . .”

Gabriel didn’t move. He wouldn’t go near her. He merely stared at her. His eyes focused on her neck and where he had bittern her. The neat puncture marks were already healing. He had been naïve to think she didn’t bear any ulterior motives when he had his. “Tell me, Bela, do you have any powers?”

She bolted upright and leaned against the bed’s headboard. She must’ve realized he wasn’t going to let her drink from him. “Powers? You mean
special
powers like Seth’s? No . . .” Her voice trailed off. She slumped suddenly like a ragdoll. Lifeless, with her chin resting on her chest. Gabriel called her name softly.
What the hell?
He leaned in closer, closer, until they were merely inches apart. Her eyes snapped open, and she let out an ear-piercing scream.

“Seth? Please, no—don’t!” Her hands rose to her head, eyes closed tight, and red tears streaking down the side of her face, contorted in torment. Although Gabriel couldn’t see what caused her to cry and bite her bottom lip, he knew who caused her to writhe in pain.

“Seth,” he whispered so darkly, it came out like a hiss.

“He knows, he knows,” she gibbered. “Knows I’m here. Must. I must.”

He watched, horrified. So, this is the working of a familial blood bond? He wanted no part in it, but then again, Seth had proved to be the sadistic type anyway. He’d never treat his blood children like this. Not even Mikel . . . well . . . probably.

Bela stopped crying, stopped speaking. Her eyes opened, and she breathed in deeply. She sat up a little taller, her back as straight as a ramrod. “I must leave here. Seth’s orders.” She combed her fingers through her hair with shaky hands. Gabriel could sense that whatever had started had only begun
. Be on your guard
.

She rose from the bed, moved to the door, and paused. “Please open the door. Please unlock it.”

He stayed where he was.

“Please . . .”

“Of course,” he answered, knowing full well that he had walked into a trap. He slipped off of the bed and moved toward her in long, slow strides. When he reached out his hand to turn the key, she grabbed him by the wrist. She held it in a tight grip, and with her other hand, she produced a dagger from thin air. He wrenched free, crouched low to the ground, then knocked her legs from underneath her with a good, swift kick before he leaped out of reach. She surged to her feet within a matter of seconds, the dagger still in her hands. She let out a cry of rage, shut her eyes, and rushed toward him swinging the dagger blindly, wildly. With blurring speed, she tried slicing his neck. Gabriel avoided each blow by simply leaning backward. She was no assassin. He went incorporeal and reappeared behind her. He grabbed her armed hand and pried the dagger out of it.

She sank to the carpet, unusually silent. When he turned her around to face him, she glared at him and then backhanded him across the face, startling him. He dropped the dagger, and Bela reclaimed it. “Seth comes,” she said and vanished, leaving only a shimmering cloud.

“If you want something done,” began a familiar voice in the room. It sounded like it had come from above. Gabriel looked up to the ceiling and saw Seth smiling and hovering over him. Some of his hair hung over half of his face, covering the amber eye. “Do it yourself,” he finished.

Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat, and he inhaled deeply through his nose to offset the embarrassing reaction. “Good evening, my dear Seth. But I’m afraid that Bela has left. You should do the same.”

The corner of Seth’s mouth lifted into one of his condescending smirks. His hand glowed, and the air softly reverberated with something. Still floating, he shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here.” He lowered what had formed in his hand to Gabriel’s throat.