Chapter 5
Gabriel
Asudden sense of urgency swarmed Gabriel’s chest, halting him at the base of the stairs. The tumbler of scotch he held slipped from his grasp, shattering at his feet. Marcus strode through the front door, taking in the broken glass.
“Are you alright?”
“Was he home?” Gabriel demanded impatiently.
He’d sent Marcus to check in on Nicholas as he normally did, needing reassurance that his mate was safe and unharmed. His connection to him had completely disintegrated over the last week, or so it had seemed.
Now, though, Gabriel felt a burning drive to act, similar to the one that had compelled him to Irongard—and kept him there—over two decades ago. He knew now it had been Nicholas’s birth that prompted the sudden move. What brought on the urgency now? He refused to believe it was Nicholas’s death.
“No. And he wasn’t at the church, or the fencing club.”
“What about the cemetery?” He still didn’t know why Nicholas was there that night.
“He wasn’t there either.”
Gabriel stepped closer, shards crunching under his shoes.
“What about his friend?” he growled.
“They aren’t together.” Marcus studied him, seeming to realize this was more than him wanting to know Nicholas’s whereabouts. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong.”
The acute awareness grew a heartbeat of its own as Gabriel stood there powerless, not knowing what part of the city to scour for his mate. He’d tear the whole metropolis down if he had to, leaving nothing but rubble in his search for Nicholas.
It’d been a week—seven days, three hours, and ten minutes to be exact—since he last saw him. Marcus had cautioned him not to make any demands of Nicholas. To be patient, because the situation was precarious at best. Nicholas needed time to come to a decision on his own, he’d said.
Gabriel might have agreed that pressuring Nicholas wasn’t the best plan, but he couldn’t leave anything to chance, so he’d paid Eliana handsomely to turn Nicholas away if he were to come looking for ‘work.’
A thought struck him, dark and pulsing.
Gabriel’s skin heated as the markings buried beneath his glamour clawed their way to the surface. Fire lit up his gaze, his mouth overcrowded with teeth.
“Take me to her,” he demanded, voice rough. “Now.”
Gabriel weaved through the half-naked bodies grinding on the dance floor.
The Vault, a landmark bank turned sex club, was owned and operated by Connor O’Brien.
O’Brien was the head of one of the largest crime syndicates along the Pacific Northwest. A man Gabriel had done business with on several occasions.
He owed Gabriel a favor, and once Eliana confessed where she’d sent Nicholas, Gabriel called O’Brien to collect on it.
According to Eliana, Nicholas was desperate and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she’d sent him to The Wolves.
The twins were known for their infamous gangbangs and drug-fueled orgies.
If Gabriel hadn’t been pressed for time, he would’ve drained Eliana dry where she stood.
He’d left her trembling with a promise instead.
“Next time, I’ll kill you.”
He passed a set of open vaults where members engaged in various acts of exhibitionism. Only in Irongard could something this illicit be flaunted. The law didn’t apply to men like O’Brien, despite the best efforts of a certain lead detective.
Gabriel turned a corner, pushing through a steel door that read Restricted Area Beyond. A tall, ruddy man wearing dark shades waited near a second set of doors. He punched a code into its keypad and then stepped aside at Gabriel’s approach.
“Down one level, last door on the left.”
Gabriel descended into the bowels of The Vault, stalking past the numerous rooms lining the dim corridor. Whips cracked, and shouts of pained pleasure seeped from beneath closed doors. The scent of sex and torture plugged the air.
The door to the room the bouncer had indicated stood ajar. Inside, Nicholas lay glassy-eyed and naked on a large, circular bed, nothing but a thin sheet covering his hips.
A man appeared to Gabriel’s right, and Gabriel wrapped a hand around the slim column of his neck before slamming him into a wall.
He shoved uselessly against Gabriel’s hold.
“Mr. O-O’Brien asked me to-to keep an eye on him f-for you.”
Gabriel released him, watching dispassionately as he doubled over, wheezing.
“What was done to him?”
“Things didn’t g-get far, but he’d already had some juice by the time the call came in.”
Juice. The illegal substance flooding the streets, said to be three times as potent as ecstasy. Nicholas wouldn’t have taken it willingly, that much Gabriel was sure of. He’d been drugged.
“I’ll let you into my club under one condition. No dead bodies.”
Gabriel clamped down on the urge to seek out The Wolves and maim them with his bare hands.
It wasn’t O’Brien’s warning that stopped him.
He would’ve waged war without hesitation to avenge Nicholas.
It was the cold reality that this was also his fault.
No matter how many people he killed in honor of his mate, that fact would remain.
He brushed Nicholas’s damp hair off his forehead, his guilt a crushing weight.
“Is there another way out?” He wouldn’t disgrace Nicholas by marching him through the throng of people above. Gabriel secured the sheet around his clammy body, gathering him into his arms.
“Yeah, this way.”
The man rubbed at his neck, escorting Gabriel through a network of passages until they reached a narrow set of metal stairs. The stairs led to a deserted side street where Marcus already waited, holding the car door open for them.
“Gabriel?” Nicholas rasped as they entered the car.
“Yes, Habibi. It’s me.” He settled Nicholas’s head across his lap.
He drifted off again, and Gabriel pierced a fingertip with his fang, letting the drop of blood slip between Nicholas’s parted lips.
It would help counter the effects of the drug.
He gently threaded his fingers through Nicholas’s hair, untangling it, wanting to cut off the hands of the men who’d been rough with it to begin with.
“Things didn’t get far,” the man watching over Nicholas had said.
How wrong he’d been. Things had already gone too far the moment Nicholas decided he needed to do this to survive.
Gabriel getting what he wanted had come at a steep price, and even now, he was still paying the cost. Would Nicholas believe that the ends justified the means?
How could he when even Gabriel was beginning to doubt it?
Gabriel considered murder and mayhem again, his default for dealing with things.
He’d never been the principled type, the one who placed his trust in the concept of goodness.
That gift had gone to his older brother.
Gabriel had been blessed with brute strength and ruthlessness, but neither of those would earn him what he wanted now.
What would he do next? Manipulation tactics hadn’t drawn Nicholas in. It had sent him fleeing into a dangerous situation. Another hurdle they’d need to cross when the time came.
Could Gabriel offer him honesty while withholding the truth? Would too much transparency too soon yield the same results as tonight?
He smoothed a finger over Nicholas’s stubborn brow.
Even in sleep, he was determined to be willful.
Under different circumstances, Gabriel would’ve enjoyed the challenge of winning Nicholas over.
While outside forces had fought to keep him and Zayn apart, their love had been easy once they’d given in to it. Once Zayn had let down his guard.
Gabriel peered down at Nicholas as Marcus sped through the dark, dismal streets of Irongard’s underbelly. He wondered how long it would take for his mate to let him in.
There’d been a fleeting moment in the hotel suite when Nicholas had come alive after Gabriel encouraged him to be himself. In that moment, with his thirst tended to, the shy but sensual young man who preferred high-tops to high heels came forth. And then they’d spoken of Zayn.
“How did you earn his trust? What did he see in you?”
Nicholas wanted to trust Gabriel, but he couldn’t as long as he didn’t trust himself.
He needed to know he wasn’t alone in his fight of self-discovery and acceptance, because over two centuries later, Gabriel was fighting a similar battle.
He hadn’t lived because without his heart—his mate—he hadn’t the motivation to.
That vital part of him had finally been restored, though. So what now?
“Try not to worry so much,” Marcus said a while later, pulling to a stop in front of Gabriel’s home. He offered Gabriel a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror, one Gabriel was too afraid to accept.
He looked at the home he’d built, its interior morose, void of warmth and love. He hugged Nicholas to him, wanting to protect him from it.
“It’s beautiful, Muharib,” Marcus whispered low enough for Gabriel’s ears alone.
“You can’t see it because you’ve been shrouded in darkness for too long.
The back of the house is made of glass and offers an unfettered view of the ocean.
And when the sun is high, it paints every mahogany surface with its golden glow.
Your home is elegant and masculine, not bleak. ”
Gabriel clung to those words, allowing them to fill a bit of the emptiness inside of him.
“Shukran, sadiqi,” he said softly.
Thank you, my friend.