Read Shadows on the Soul Page 27


  What the hell had happened in here? What had Jezebel done to give him back his power? And how could Eli just vanish like that? So many questions, so few answers.

  He reached over the psychic line, trying to reach Jez, but though he still felt her presence in his head, he couldn’t contact her. He had to find out if she was okay. No matter his exhaustion and injury.

  He pushed himself up to his feet, heading toward the open warehouse door. When he stepped outside, he came to an abrupt halt.

  Brigitte smiled at him, her eyes seeming to glow with pleasure in the moonlight. “Well!” she said. “You seem to be doing better than the last time I saw you.”

  He mustered a snarl, though he felt so depleted he feared he’d make easy prey.

  “Oh, don’t be so grumpy,” she said. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in there waiting to see what body part you’d lose next.”

  He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “Who do you think taught your fledgling how to help you?”

  Gabriel’s hands closed into fists. “What did you do to her?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Do to her?” She shook her head. “Nothing whatsoever. I just gave her the information she needed to save your life.”

  “Don’t fuck with me!” he snapped.

  Brigitte wrinkled her pretty little nose. “Americans are so vulgar.”

  He took a menacing step her direction, at which point Henri stepped out from the shadows.

  “You’re in no condition to fight us,” Brigitte pointed out. “Your little fledgling has taken the pain away, but you will still be somewhat weakened until the drug has completely worked its way out of your system.” She made a moue with her lips. “Besides, I don’t want to fight with you. We should be friends, you and I. Perhaps the only two born vampires in the entire world. It’s a natural alliance.”

  “I want nothing to do with you!” He still couldn’t find the scent of corruption on her, but he decided that had to be another side effect of her being a born vampire. There could be no doubt in his mind that she was as tainted as her fledgling.

  Brigitte shrugged. “Perhaps not now. You’ve been through a lot in these last few days. And I can certainly understand that I might not be your favorite person in the world if you associate me with that lot.” She jerked her chin toward the warehouse. “But they were merely a means to an end, a way to get me to America and—”

  “Tell me what you did to Jezebel!”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already answered that. I did nothing to her. All I did was instruct her on how to cure your pain.”

  Another quick psychic probe showed him Jez was still out of reach. Something was most definitely wrong. It wasn’t like he was hitting her mental barriers. It felt … different.

  “Then why can’t I reach her?” he demanded.

  “Ah,” Brigitte said softly, making a pitying face. Her eyes filled with false sympathy. “I warned her to be careful,” she said. “I warned her not to press too hard or too fast.” She shook her head, again making one of those sad faces he didn’t believe. “She knew it was dangerous, what she was trying. For a fledgling as young as she, especially. She had to tread with the utmost care to keep herself safe. It seems that she failed to follow my instructions.”

  “You lying little bitch!” Again, he took a step toward her.

  Henri stepped up to her side, and the two of them stared at him intently. Suddenly, his legs refused to obey him and take another step.

  “As I told you,” Brigitte said, “you’re in no condition to fight us just now. I am truly sorry that your fledgling’s mind didn’t survive the effort to save you. I warned her of the risks. It was her decision to proceed regardless.

  “I know that you felt some attachment to her, and that she was your first fledgling. But you can make others, and I can help you train them so that—”

  “She’s not dead!” Gabriel snapped, testing the connection for the millionth time and finding it still there.

  Brigitte shrugged. “She might as well be.”

  Gabriel’s eyes blazed and he redoubled his efforts to break through the glamour. But he was still weakened, still exhausted, and his legs didn’t budge.

  Brigitte sighed dramatically. “I can see now is not the time to talk sense into you. I believe Henri and I will take some time to explore this New World of yours. I imagine we can have some fun and adventures while we wait for you to accept reality.” She smiled, that sweet, innocent smile that didn’t belong on her face. “One of the joys of immortality, no? We have all the time in the world.” She hooked her arm through Henri’s. “I’ll check back with you someday, when you’ve had a chance to get over your little Jezebel. Then maybe you’ll be ready to accept your destiny.”

  A sharp retort rose from Gabriel’s throat, but before he managed a single word, his mind went fuzzy from glamour. When he snapped out of it, they were gone.

  26

  FOR A FULL WEEK after the battle at the warehouse, Gabriel remained in his apartment, nursing his wounds, waiting for everything to heal up. Every night, he would spend several hours trying to reach Jezebel. And every night, he was forced to give up, exhausted mind and body from the effort.

  When he was fully healed, his fingers all grown back, he paid a visit to Drake, who explained Eli’s new and improved powers. Gabriel told himself he ought to return to Baltimore. There was nothing for him here anymore, not with Jezebel beyond his reach. Not when he could no longer muster even a scrap of enthusiasm at the thought of revenge against his father. And yet somehow, another week slipped by and he was still in Philadelphia, still hoping against hope that Jez would wake from her unnatural sleep. Through Drake, he learned that Eli was force-feeding her, keeping her body alive. But how long would it be before he decided it would be a mercy to let her slip away?

  Two weeks stretched to three before Gabriel realized that he couldn’t leave the city without Jezebel. Even if he could never reach her, could never speak to her again, she was his fledgling and his responsibility. He had to try everything in his power to get her back. Even if that meant surrendering himself to Eli’s questionable mercy.

  He didn’t bother to mask his presence as he approached Eli’s house. Instead, he strode boldly to the gate, wanting to get this over with. He reached for the doorbell, but the gates buzzed and opened before he had a chance to ring. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through those gates and made his way to the front door of the mansion.

  When he arrived, Eli opened the door and just stood there, blocking the doorway while he looked Gabriel up and down with expressionless eyes. Gabriel bristled, but tried to tamp down his anger. He forced a mocking smile.

  “Well,” he said, “I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t greet me with drawn sword.” He remembered Camille’s head rolling on the warehouse floor and had to suppress a shudder.

  “Indeed,” Eli said, but he opened the door wider to let Gabriel in.

  Gabriel accepted the invitation, then stood indecisively in the foyer, half his attention focused on his father, half focused on Jezebel who was so close and yet so far away. His throat tightened. She was upstairs somewhere. He could feel her presence.

  Turning his back on Eli, Gabriel took a couple of steps toward the stairs. Of course, Eli wasn’t about to let him go that easily.

  “There’s been no change in her condition,” he said, and Gabriel halted in his tracks.

  The tightness in his throat turned to a lump, and his fingers curled into fists. He turned toward Eli and found he couldn’t speak. Pain burned in his chest, but it wasn’t a physical pain. Much though he hated to show weakness in front of Eli, he had to lower his head and close his eyes or he might have embarrassed himself.

  “Why are you here, my son?” Eli asked. His voice was conspicuously gentle.

  Gabriel forced his eyes open and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I—” His voice betrayed him, hoarse and raspy. He cleared his throat, but it didn’t help muc
h. “I want to go home. To Baltimore. But I can’t leave without her.” He shook his head, hardly believing his own sentimentality. “I just can’t.”

  Gabriel’s defenses snapped to alert when Eli approached, but his father made no move to attack.

  “Are you in love with her, then?” Eli asked.

  Again, that burning sensation in his chest. Was he in love with her? “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I can’t say I know what love is. I only know I’ve never felt like this about anyone before in five hundred years.” He looked up. “Is that love?”

  Eli shrugged, a hint of a wry grin on his face. “I’m not the one to ask. I was celibate as a mortal, and I can say with authority that even as a vampire I’ve never been in love.”

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Not even with my mother?”

  Eli shook his head. “I was fond of her for a long time. But no, I never loved her, nor did she ever love me.”

  “Or me,” Gabriel blurted, then wished he hadn’t.

  “I don’t think she was capable of it.”

  And what about you? Gabriel wondered, but he didn’t have the guts to ask. Jezebel had claimed more than once that Eli loved him, but he still found that hard to believe.

  “Are you going to kill me?” he asked instead. Strangely, he didn’t feel terribly concerned about Eli’s answer. If he was about to die, then he supposed he was ready for it. Just as long as he got to see Jezebel one more time, even if she couldn’t see him.

  Eli held out his hand, and his sword materialized. Gabriel blinked and shook his head. It was an illusion, he knew. A mysterious and powerful form of glamour. But he’d seen with his own two eyes what that illusory sword could do. He stood up straight and looked his father in the eye, no hint of fear in him.

  “Just let me see Jezebel, first,” he asked. “I’ve tried to reach her through our connection, but I haven’t been able to do it. Perhaps if I’m here in body as well as spirit, I’ll be able to get through. To help her.” He swallowed hard as yet another lump formed in his throat. If he didn’t watch it, he was going to find himself bawling like a baby.

  Eli wove the sword through the air in a complicated pattern, watching Gabriel’s face the whole time, a measuring, assessing gaze. The sword came to a stop with the point about an inch from Gabriel’s throat, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Please. Let me try to reach her. Whether I succeed or fail, I won’t fight you.”

  Eli thought about it a moment longer, then nodded briskly. The sword vanished.

  “Follow me,” he said, and he climbed the stairs. He led the way to a small, comfortably appointed bedroom, opening the door and gesturing Gabriel in before him.

  Jezebel lay on her back on the bed, the covers drawn up to her chin and tucked in around her, her hair fanning the pillow beside her head. The covers rose and fell with her steady breathing. Her face was paler than it should have been, her eyes shadowed with dark circles, her cheeks hollow.

  Gabriel whirled on his father. “Drake said you’d been feeding her! She looks half-starved!”

  “There’s only so much I’ve been able to get her to swallow.”

  “You haven’t been mixing it with that damned milk, have you?”

  Eli gave him a dirty look. “I’m not a fool, son. She’ll take a few swallows, then she just starts spitting it out. I don’t know what else I can do for her. This is unfamiliar territory, to say the least.”

  Gabriel sat on the bed beside her, touching the back of his hand to the pale skin of her cheek. Why had she had to interfere?

  “If I’d had any idea what she was trying to do,” he said softly, “I never would have allowed it. How could she possibly do this to herself for my sake?”

  “Because she loves you,” was Eli’s simple answer. “I might not be an expert on romance, but that much I can say with great confidence.”

  Gabriel fished her hand out from beneath the covers, wrapping his fingers around hers. If only he had some idea how to help her! He took a deep breath for calm, then started to reach out across the connection, but Eli interrupted him.

  “If I might make a suggestion?”

  Gabriel was open to any suggestion that might make it possible to bring her back, and he let his face convey that message.

  “Many legends that exist about vampires have some basis in fact, though often the reality is far removed from the legend. One could assume, for example, that it is the ability of Old Ones to create illusions that has given rise to the idea of vampires dissolving into mist, or turning into bats, or what have you.”

  Gabriel acknowledged that with a nod.

  “It makes me wonder about the myth of a mortal having to drink a vampire’s blood to become vampire. Obviously, it’s not necessary, but perhaps you could try feeding her some of your own blood. Perhaps she won’t spit that out. And perhaps that will strengthen your connection.”

  Gabriel’s thumb stroked over her limp fingers. “I’d let her drain me dry if I thought that would bring her back.”

  Figuring it was worth a try, he lowered his fangs, then bit his wrist. The wound started closing almost immediately. He thrust his bleeding wrist into Jez’s mouth, using his other hand to raise her head.

  His blood coated her lips, and she made a feeble sound of protest. A few drops made it into her mouth, and she didn’t spit them out. Unfortunately, the wound had sealed over already. Once again, he bit his wrist open and stuck it in her mouth. This time, her lips moved a bit and she visibly swallowed.

  He’d bitten himself three times, only to have the wound heal too quickly, when Jezebel’s fangs descended. He shared a quick look with Eli.

  “Has that happened at all when you’ve fed her before?”

  Eli shook his head. “Hurry up. Give her more before they retract.”

  Once again, Gabriel bit himself to start the blood flowing. This time, when he put his wrist to her lips, her fangs sank into him. “That’s it, my sweet,” he crooned as she started to suck. He climbed all the way onto the bed, careful not to dislodge her, then cradled her body against his as she took big, greedy swallows, her eyes still firmly shut.

  Closing his own eyes, Gabriel reached across their connection, trying desperately to find her.

  At first, there was nothing. Just the same, strange blankness he’d been feeling for three weeks. Not like her mental doors were closed, but like they were hidden behind a billowing sea of fog. But then there was … something. A hint of movement behind the fog, a fleeting glimpse of something solid.

  Gabriel lunged forward, grabbing at that hint of movement, but his hands passed through emptiness. He groped his way through the fog.

  Jezebel! Are you in there?

  No answer, but he plunged deeper anyway. He could no longer feel his physical body at all. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d be able to find his way back. Then, he decided he didn’t care and continued forward.

  He lost all track of time, flailing his way through mist and fog, chasing an elusive feeling that might be nothing but his wishful thinking. Then he heard it, the very faintest of sounds. It sounded like his name. He propelled himself forward.

  Jezebel! he shouted, straining his ears for an answer.

  There! He heard it. Still faint, still far away, but he felt sure it was his name. He kept reaching, stretching, shouting.

  And then the fog cleared, and she was there, a solid presence in his mind.

  Jezebel! Relief flooded him, even as he realized he had no idea how to get back into his body.

  Gabriel? What are you doing here?

  He almost laughed. Looking for you, of course.

  He couldn’t see a thing, but he could swear he felt her frown.

  But you shouldn’t be here, she argued.

  Why not? I want to be where you are.

  I don’t know where I am, she said, sounding mournful. I’ve been wandering and wandering, and I can’t seem to get anywhere. And unless you’ve left a trail of breadcrumbs, you really shouldn’t have c
ome after me.

  I don’t care, he declared. Wherever you are, that’s where I belong. And he knew at that moment the answer to Eli’s question. I love you, Jezebel. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love, but you’ve proven me wrong.

  The mist surrounded them, thick, impenetrable, disorienting. Even so, he felt something in his core he might almost have described as peace.

  You have to go back, Gabriel, Jez said. Please. I didn’t go through all this hell just to have you throw your life away.

  Even if I wanted to go back, I don’t know the way. I love you. I’m where I belong.

  You’re a pig-headed pain in the ass! she told him, and he chuckled.

  But you love me anyway.

  She breathed a resigned sigh. Yeah, I love you anyway.

  Something niggled at him, a strange sensation at the back of his metaphysical neck. Almost like a tug. He puzzled over it, then let himself drift in the direction of the tug.

  What is it? Jez asked.

  Perhaps I’ve found my trail of breadcrumbs, he said.

  Huh?

  The tug came a little more strongly. He might almost have described the sensation as pain, though he wasn’t sure it was possible to feel pain without a body.

  Can you follow me? he asked Jez.

  I think so.

  He drifted a little farther.

  Jezebel followed, but a bit of distance opened up between them.

  Come on, Jez! Keep up.

  He moved toward the ever-more-urgent tug, but Jez wasn’t keeping pace.

  Damn it! he shouted. Keep up!

  I’m trying. I can’t.

  But he hadn’t come this far merely to leave her behind. I’m bringing you out of here if it kills me.

  He strained against the tugging sensation, reaching out to Jez, wrapping himself around her.

  Gabriel, please—

  Shut up and come with me.

  Again, he moved toward the tug. And this time, she moved with him.

  Something’s wrong, she said.

  Never mind, he soothed, even as he felt the strangeness she had sensed. He continued to move through the mist, but he felt himself growing weaker. It was as if he was leaving little pieces of himself behind as he dragged Jez along with him.