Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) (13 page)

“Odd place for a meeting.”

“Neither your domain nor mine. We are equals here.” Darkyn, the demon lord charged with heading the Dark One’s armies of demons, emerged from a dark hallway. His pointed teeth rested on his lower lip, his dark eyes displaying the intelligence of a being that existed from the time-before-time. Lean and youthful, he was unthreatening in appearance but the single most lethal creature Gabriel knew.

“Everyone comes to me,” Gabriel reminded him. “Even you.”

“Not today.”

“I’m not the talker past-Death was. Spit it out, Darkyn,” Gabriel ordered.

“You visited Fate but not my master?” Darkyn asked. “It displeased him.”

“Your
master
,” Gabe replied. He fell quiet, studying Darkyn. Assuming the role of Death heightened his senses about dealing with Immortals. Darkyn wasn’t giving off the same vibe that other demons – who were roughly equivalent to Immortals in the food chain – gave off.

Darkyn’s quiet power was more like Fate’s.

“When did this transition happen?” Gabriel asked.

“Not long ago. When my master recalled me from exile, we had a talk. I won and took over,” Darkyn said. “I prefer to keep under the radar. The demons and Immortals don’t need to fear what they don’t know.”

“So you can operate freely between worlds.”

“Much like you. I’m invoking Immortal Code, rule 7,340: secrets between deities ....”

“… remain between deities.” Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Your
mate
owes me a debt.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What debt?”

“You didn’t wonder how past-Deidre learned of the loophole that let her become mortal? With her very own soul?”

“I assume she lost a bet with Fate.”

“That was part of it, I hear. In either case, she owes my predecessor for the knowledge he gave her.”

Immortal Code, Rule 9: All deals made between deities shall be recorded by the Oracle.

“Assuming this is true, what was the price?” Gabriel asked.

“You mean
who
was the price?” Darkyn’s smile was cunning. “A certain Immortal. Care to guess?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. Even if she promised him a soul, I have discretion on when I claim it,” Gabe said.

“You misunderstand,” Darkyn replied. “She didn’t offer up a
living
Immortal. She agreed to return the soul of one who is dead-dead. That was the condition of the deal.”

Gabe’s hands clenched. It was a violation of multiple rules within the Immortal Code. No part of him doubted she’d done it. Worse, if she made the commitment,
he
was obligated to fulfill it.

“Whose is it?” he demanded.

“Wynn.”

“The father of the Council That Was Seven?” Gabriel asked, not understanding why the Dark One chose the Immortal that was his archenemy for thousands of years.

Darkyn shrugged. “My master’s reasons were his own. The debt was incurred before I took over. I am simply collecting on the debt, as is my obligation.”

“I have to verify it with the Oracle first.”

“As you wish.”

“Anything else?” Gabriel asked, sensing there was more to the demon lord’s journey from Hell. “Like why your demons are stalking this woman?” He gestured to the apartment.

“She …left something for me.”

Surprised by the response, Gabriel followed Darkyn’s eyes around the apartment.

“Rather, past-Deidre did,” Darkyn added. “I’ve not been able to locate it.”

“Let me know what it is. I’ll help you search,” Gabriel said wryly.

“Perhaps in time. I will find it, Gabriel.” The threat in his growl was apparent.

“Hope I find it first. I’d love to have a bargaining chip,” Gabriel said.

“It’s a personal vendetta. Mine, not my predecessor’s. There’s no record of this.”

“Gods. I’ll add your name to the list of enemies. Never heard of someone in your position making an unofficial deal.”

“It’s more of a personal debt. One you are not obligated to pay but she was.”

At the end of his patience with the cryptic demon, Gabriel left. He returned to the Sanctuary, to the Oracle, who was busy scribbling. He flipped backwards in the book to the portion that no longer changed.

“Show me the deal past-Death made with the Dark One,” he ordered the book.

A vision formed before him. Gabe watched it, anger stirring as the Oracle confirmed Darkyn’s story about bringing back a dead-dead immortal. The deal was made before Darkyn assumed the helm of Hell.

Immortal Code, Rule 302: Debts incurred by a deity shall not expire and shall be transferred to successors until settled.

“Show me this personal debt between past-Death and Darkyn.”

No images formed. If past-Death and Darkyn made any kind of deal, the Oracle would have record of it.

Was it possible to make a
private
deal, outside the visibility of the other deities?

Gabriel leaned against the lectern. Unable to tamper with Fate’s court anymore than Death could, the Dark One was taking a risk at wanting Wynn raised from the dead-dead. While he had to fulfill the debt past-Death incurred, Gabriel at least might postpone it until he had time to warn Rhyn. He’d never thought of being locked out of the underworld as an advantage, but the soul Darkyn wanted wasn’t likely one of those in the lakes on the mortal world.

Gabriel’s eyes drifted in the direction where he sensed Deidre was. Desire and yearning crept into him, knowing she was so close. Doubting she’d welcome him, he was drawn to her in a way he wasn’t going to be able to fight for long.

What did Darkyn want from Deidre? What kind of deal had past-Deidre made that the Oracle didn’t record?

Gabriel rubbed his jaw and strode out of the Oracle’s small room. He followed the instinct that led him to Deidre and trotted up the stairs leading to the top of the fortress. His step slowed as he saw her leaning against the wall, gazing into the darkness. Her features were drawn in the moonlight, and there were circles under her eyes. Her petite, shapely body was clothed in jeans and a tank top. The sight of his name across her shoulders made his body hot with anger and need that left him frustrated. He was so close … and couldn’t touch her the way he yearned to.

The ocean breeze brought the familiar scent of brandy. Gabe approached and stopped behind her, claiming the alcohol with one hand. She jumped. Gabe tossed the brandy over the side of the fortress wall and caught her as she tried to escape. The softness of her body combined with the power of their bond jarred him.

“Leave me alone!” she cried.

“I just need a minute,” he said in a calm, level voice. He released her, not wanting to make this worse. He braced his arms on either side of her. She didn’t face him. She leaned against the wall, trembling visibly.

The sight disturbed him more than he wanted it to. Daniela said she was scared. Gabe saw she was more- Deidre was terrified. Of
him
. He found himself hating the feeling instead of relishing it, like he thought he would if their roles were ever reversed. He didn’t want her to fear him. It probably didn’t help that she was drunk.

Pensive, he swallowed hard and finally admitted that he didn’t want her to be his by obligation, the way he’d been enslaved to past-Deidre. He took a deep breath, making a decision he knew he’d probably regret.

“I need your head clear,” he said, irritated about the alcohol. He rested his hand on the base of her neck, the warm energy of their bond moving through him. As tempted as he was to read her mind, he didn’t. He cleared it, pushing aside the haze of alcohol and the pain he sensed but didn’t understand the source of. It was physical discomfort, not mental, and he was relieved to feel she was in no great mental pain from the loss of her boyfriend.

Her shaking stopped at his touch, the warmth of their connection and his magic soothing her. Her head nodded forward, and her breathing grew steady again. Her shoulders were still hunched, as if she waited for him to hack off her head.

“First, a couple of rules,” he started. “One, no alcohol. Two, no more suicide attempts.”

She said nothing.

“There are more, but we’ll start there. Understood?” He kept his voice firm and cold, unwilling to give on either point.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Second, a compromise.” His tone grew yielding. “We are …bound by magic older than time. It creates an obligation for me that I must honor. However, the same is not true for you. The laws and magic governing the mate of an Immortal are much more forgiving. You have no such duty to me.”

He paused, grappling with the truth. He’d never thought he’d hear himself admit it to any woman who became his mate, especially not to her. The urge to claim her was strong, but so was the need to let her have the choice he never had.

“It’s your decision whether or not you want to stay with me. We are bound either way, but if you choose to walk away from me, I …will respect your decision. No matter what, I’ll continue to honor my obligations and protect you.”

She was listening. Gabe clenched his jaw. He was putting himself at her mercy again, except that, this time, he had the power and chose not to use it. This part of his life was in the hands of Fate, who would probably be pleased.

Gabe was not. Her womanly scent teased him, the heat of her nearness reminding him of how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. He dropped his hand from her body before he turned into a liar about letting her choose.

She said nothing.

Gabe waited a few more minutes then forced himself to leave. Uncertain what he expected, his anger was boiling at the silent rejection. He’d extended an olive branch and come back empty-handed. Like old times. Doing the right thing never felt as dissatisfactory as it did this night.

He left the Sanctuary to help his dealers consolidate the souls. He had to determine if the one he owed Darkyn was present or not and then warn Rhyn that the half-demon’s Immortal father would soon no longer be dead-dead.

The Dark One, Darkyn, remained long after Gabriel left. He searched Deidre’s apartment from top to bottom several times, seeking the item he needed to fulfill his part of a deal. True, they’d had more of an understanding than an official agreement, but he never failed to deliver, even if he had a reputation for interpreting the terms differently than those who made him the deal. Likewise,
no one
fucked him over when he made a deal. Not even the bitch that was past-Death.

Intrigued by the offer she brought him before she disappeared, he was beginning to think he should’ve made the deal official. He’d never entered into a private one before and didn’t know if his predecessor had either.

The idea she’d hidden it somewhere he couldn’t find was driving him mad, along with the scent of the human blood coating the walls of the far bedroom. He ran his tongue over his pointed teeth and stood in the center of her living room, pensive and hungry.

It wasn’t here. It wasn’t anywhere he’d tracked her during the entirety of her lifetime. The human named Deidre had to have it with her, a trinket or piece of jewelry with sentimental value that she never took off. It was small enough, it could be anywhere. Wynn’s soul was an official debt she incurred, and Death would do its duty and repay.

The second soul bartered for in private was flat out missing. It didn’t seem possible. Past-Death
wanted
this soul found, and Darkyn’s searches the past few years yielded nothing. With the sheer number of demons Darkyn had assigned to watching Deidre over the years and all the leads he’d personally pursued, he should have stumbled upon it by now. The demons he sent to Death’s underworld failed. The demons he sent to the mortal world failed.

Furious, he took matters into his own hands. He, too, was failing. Worse, he wasn’t able to operate under the radar for much longer, now that Gabriel had claimed his mate. Time was short.

Darkyn had no tolerance for failure, especially not after past-Death interfered in his attempt to capture Rhyn’s mate. He was burning through the limited amount of demons qualified to shape-shift. They were a finicky lot, lasting only two to three days in the human world before the serum that change their features wore off.

Deidre’s boyfriend, Logan, cost Darkyn two of the valuable shape-shifting demons. Neither of them found any trace of what Darkyn sought.

“Hey, boss.”

His least favorite demon crept from the shadows. Jared was a thorn in Darkyn’s side, but he was also a friend of the half-demon Rhyn. No other demon was permitted close the Immortal fortress. It was respect for this usefulness that kept Jared from feeling the brunt of Darkyn’s anger.

“I went over the beach house with a fine-toothed comb,” Jared said. “Nothing.”

“I’m missing something,” Darkyn growled.

“Are you sure …”

At Darkyn’s glare, Jared ducked his gaze and fell silent.

“I need a distraction, Jared, to keep the Immortals out of my hair,” Darkyn said.

“Happy to serve.”

“Pick a human school to target for breakfast. Take two more demons with you. Make it messy and obvious.”