Chapter 12
Gabriel
Gabriel exploded from deep within the ocean, landing in a crouched position along the cliff’s edge. His head snapped toward the house, sensing movement from inside. Saltwater filled his nostrils, making it impossible to capture the intruder’s scent.
“It’s only me, Sayyidi.” Marcus’s hushed words sounded weary.
“Nicholas?”
“He’s fine.”
Gabriel’s strides were swift, sunlight glinting off the gilded markings along his skin.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped inside, gaze moving to the kitchen counter where his phone rested.
Marcus turned his attention from the pups, leaving them whimpering at his feet.
“Nicholas is fine. I dropped him at the fencing club, like you asked. He’ll call when he’s ready.” Marcus eyed the puddle forming around Gabriel’s naked body. “Get dressed. It can wait until then.”
Gabriel grabbed his phone anyway, confirming he hadn’t missed a call or text.
“Wait for me in my study.”
He sounded irritable, but he and Nicholas had spent the last blissful week alone, enjoying each other’s company.
Now he was left to worry about his well-being, because he couldn’t demand Nicholas give up his friendship with Mateo.
He’d first need to explain what loomed ahead of them, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet.
The best he could do was secure Nicholas’s promise to call if he started feeling ill.
Gabriel entered his study a short while later, adjusting his tie. “What’s the emergency?”
Marcus dropped the morning paper onto Gabriel’s desk, sitting back in his seat. Gabriel read the headline as he lowered onto his chair.
Eight dead in escalating turf war.
“That’s Hamza’s problem, not mine.”
“This is Kyrin’s people. You were supposed to take care of the problem for him. You backed out of the agreement too late.”
Gabriel steepled his hands in front of him.
“And what about Italy?” Marcus inquired.
“It would take at least a few days to complete that job, maybe longer. The Vatican Palace won’t be easy to breach, not even for me. I can’t be away from Nicholas for that long.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both. A drop of my blood won’t stave off the transition forever.”
“How much time do you have?”
“A few weeks, maybe a month. I can scent it on him.”
“Then find a way to give him more than a drop. Maybe that will delay things.”
“That will only earn me another week or two, but it’s not the point, Rayyaan.” His abruptness wasn’t intentional. He took a deep breath and started again.
“Nicholas’s transition isn’t the only note of concern. The time span between his episodes is shortening. I can’t risk being that far away from him.”
If sharp arousal struck Nicholas in Gabriel’s absence, he’d need to turn to someone else. He didn’t need to remind Marcus of those repercussions, and he didn’t need Hamza beating down his door again.
“I understand. I just worry.”
“I thought that’s been my job lately.” Gabriel’s attempt at a smile didn’t land. Too much weighed on him.
“While your gaze is fixed elsewhere, mine rests firmly at your back.”
Gabriel laid a fist across his chest, gratitude from one warrior to another.
“And what about Canada? The jet has been readied. You’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Let the Prime Minister know he’ll have to find someone else.”
He thought about all the other obligations he had lined up. “Clear my calendar. Everyone will have to fend for themselves for the time being.”
“You know what that will mean, Muharib.”
“For their sake, I hope it means nothing.”
Marcus’s eyes pulsed luminous white behind his dark shades, the only outward sign that their thoughts were aligned. A lot of men depended on Gabriel. A lot of bad men, who’d now be disappointed and looking for answers. Gabriel answered to no one. No one but Nicholas.
Marcus tracked his every movement, his subtle tells. “You’re on edge.”
Gabriel unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders. “Can you blame me?”
“Is it his dreams?”
“Yes. They continue to concern me.”
“What has he told you about them?”
“Not much. He doesn’t bring it up unless prompted, and even then, he shares very little. Pushing him feels…”
“Too obvious?”
Gabriel nodded.
Marcus considered him further. “Or maybe he shares as much as he believes you want to know. Maybe he senses your hesitancy. I certainly do. You’re afraid to learn more.”
Could that be true? Gabriel went over his conversation with Nicholas while feeding him breakfast that morning.
“Did you sleep well?” he’d asked. Gabriel still slept in the bedroom across the hall.
“Not really.”
Nicholas had glowered, as though trying to recall something. His next words were whispered, and Gabriel had changed the subject instead of acknowledging them. Had he not wanted to push Nicholas, or was Marcus right?
“Massasu Dimae,” Gabriel breathed, giving Marcus a troubled look. “He spoke those words aloud this morning.”
Marcus remained steady. “So he understands our language.”
“Only in his dreams, I believe. He didn’t seem to have a grip on what it meant. He forgets a lot once he wakes.”
Gabriel maintained his stoicism in the following silence, but his ability to stay contained never interfered with Marcus’s capacity to read him.
“You knew this day was coming,” his friend said gently, always the perfect blend of compassion and brutal honesty. He knew when to strike and when to stroke.
“You’ve had ample time to prepare for it. You’ve survived this long without your mate. You can survive however long it takes for him to forgive you.”
“Nicholas,” Gabriel said. “I think I’d like to just refer to him as Nicholas. And let’s hope you’re right. Let’s hope he forgives me.”
He wandered over to the window, running through his thoughts as the storm clouds obscured the sun.
“He thinks I’m a monster.”
“Do you deny it?”
Gabriel huffed. “Fair enough.”
“You’re a businessman whom he has yet to see handle any business. You said his intuition is his strength. Do you think he’s unaware that he keeps company with a criminal?”
Gabriel gave his friend a curious look, recalling a question Nicholas had asked.
“Are you dangerous?”
He went back to watching the seawater stir. “He thinks Zayn is beautiful.”
“What are your thoughts on Zayn these days?”
The sudden high winds worked their sorcery along the water’s surface, creating ripples that rose into mighty waves. That’s how Gabriel felt. A ripple gathering into something explosive. His confusion gave way to a whisper.
“I think I never truly knew him. I knew his nuances, what made him tick… I knew how to please him, I knew I would die for him, and I understood his pain. But we found love as fugitives. Our circumstances heightened it all. Everything tends to feel more intense when you’re fighting to stay alive.
” He swallowed, deciding not to risk a glance in Marcus’s direction.
“Who would he have been, given the chance to wake up with a steady heart, instead of the constant panic he had to live with? Who would I have been, had I been lucky enough to take him in our mated bed, instead of stealing moments out in the wild? Blades to our throats, blood on our hands…” Gabriel peered down at his hands, remembering all the nights they dripped red.
“I loved Zayn, but…”
“The world is slower with Nicholas,” Marcus finished for him.
“Yes.” The word was expelled as if caged for far too long.
Relief.
Bolts of bright light arced through the swirling clouds, creating a shockwave of heart-pounding thunder.
“Don’t you find it odd that it’s your experiences he’s sharing in these dreams, not Zayn’s?”
Gabriel considered that. “Zayn and I were blood-bonded. I was his maker. I assumed that had something to do with it. Besides, he walked with Zayn briefly in a vision.”
“A vision?”
Gabriel nodded. “I’m not sure how this thing is supposed to work.” And he had no one to ask.
“Do you think the council knew he could be turned?”
“I believe they knew everything. We were the only fools.”
Gabriel rolled his neck, working out some of the tension. He glanced at his friend, finding his gaze narrowed on him.
“Something else has you off kilter.” Marcus tilted his head. “Are you feeding?”
“Of course I am.”
Blood to his kind was as pivotal as water to a human. If they went without blood for a prolonged period, dehydration turned them rabid. If they went even longer, their bodies went into stasis, shriveling into a dry husk until fed again.
The council used blood deprivation as a form of torture and imprisonment of their kind. A life sentence for a crime would result in a sun-death or death by decapitation. Milder crimes would see them chained and dried in a cell.
“From the source?” Marcus pushed.
“That would require me leaving Nicholas.”
“Well, he isn’t here now.”
Gabriel couldn’t argue with that, so he pretended to admire the violent view instead of admitting the truth.
“His transition doesn’t only affect him,” Marcus pointed out. “The pheromones must be driving you mad. Fresh blood doesn’t only help you, it also keeps Nicholas safe.”
“I would never hurt him.”
“Not by choice, but this thing inside us leaves little of that when driven to the edge. You wouldn’t be betraying him.” Leave it to him to pick up on what Gabriel left unspoken. “You aren’t blood-bonded mates yet.”
While bagged blood served its purpose, drinking directly from the vein would help with his craving for Nicholas’s blood.
It would also give him optimal strength.
But feeding from the vein of another once mated was equivalent to infidelity.
But Marcus was right. This form of monogamy wasn’t required of him yet.
“You’ll need your strength for what’s to come,” said Marcus, as if somehow reading Gabriel’s thoughts.
“You don’t need to fuss over me.”
“Well, then what will I do with my talents?”
“I’m sure Hamza could use some of your scrutiny.”
Marcus gave a low chuckle.
“You could still fall in love,” Gabriel said weakly, not for the first time wishing his friend had someone else to care for. It burdened Gabriel that he was getting a second chance at love while Marcus—and Hamza—had never had one at all.