Chapter 2
Gabriel
Gabriel made arrangements with Nicholas’s employer to procure his services for the following night. He booked the penthouse suite at The Christoff, one of the few luxury hotels in the dark city of Irongard. A room key reserved for Nicholas had been left at the front desk.
Gabriel would need to proceed with caution.
He couldn’t merely inform Nicholas of who they were to each other.
No, he’d first need to establish a connection, build trust. He understood the irony of that, because while he vowed to be as honest with Nicholas as possible, there would undoubtedly be lies told, even if they were lies of omission.
He ventured to the tall windows in the sitting room, his thoughts resembling the chaos of the traffic below.
How much of Nicholas’s personality and character could be attributed to Zayn? Which parts of him would be new to Gabriel?
Will he still love me?
So much of the rebirth ritual performed by the saahira was unknown at the time, and he was warned that while Zayn’s soul would be returned, promises couldn’t be made on the timeline, nor how much—or how little—of his traits would carry through.
Not much frightened Gabriel, but the thought of losing his mate again saw him pressing his trembling palms into the rain-covered glass to remain upright.
The transition would ensure that Nicholas needed Gabriel to survive, but would Nicholas’s heart belong to him? Or would he hate Gabriel for stealing the life he’d come to know? Because Nicholas’s life would never be the same again.
All I’ve done can’t be for nothing.
Gabriel closed his eyes, trying to block out the past. He’d never been a good man, but over time, he’d become something far worse than a bad one.
Because the only way to forget the vilest thing he’d ever done was to prove to himself that he could do no better.
He’d had to release his conscience and move through life without feeling.
It was a switch he’d flipped so long ago that he could no longer feel around for it in the dark.
The suite’s door opened, forcing Gabriel to focus on the here and now.
In the window’s reflection, he had a perfect view of the suite’s entrance hall. Other than the mood lighting in the sitting area and the soft glow of neighboring skyscrapers, the duplex was relatively dark.
Gabriel faced Nicholas, whose high-heeled steps faltered just over the point of entry. A spark flared in Gabriel’s chest at the sight of those wide brown eyes, and he fisted his hands behind his back, fighting off the urge to capture Nicholas in his arms.
He’d been a man of stone for far too long and had been afraid he’d forgotten the soft ways in which his mate needed to be cared for.
But the sight of Nicholas summoned something tender in Gabriel, and recollections of their shared past ignited as he observed him.
Long legs thrown over Gabriel’s shoulders, Zayn’s full, layered tresses—once as black as midnight—trapped between Gabriel’s capable hands.
He remembered cupping the back of Zayn’s head and urging his mate’s full lips to the pulsing vein at his neck, feeding him, fucking him, sustaining him. Gabriel’s legs threatened to buckle, to take him to his knees at the onslaught of memories.
“Please, come in.”
Gabriel hardly recognized his courteous tone. It had been ages since he’d had to be anything but harsh and unforgiving. The thunderous galloping of Nicholas’s heart invigorated Gabriel’s thirst, even though he’d fed an hour prior.
Nicholas moved carefully down the hall, wearing an oversized blazer and nothing else.
The hem of it stopped dangerously close to the tops of his toned thighs.
The ensemble, while alluring, seemed out of place on him.
Much like the red lingerie he’d worn the night before.
He had the bone structure for it, defined but lean.
And he moved with the grace of a dancer—or in his case, someone skilled at swordplay.
But he was also rigid in a way that had little to do with the heat ailing him.
Was this the doing of his madam? Gabriel’s natural instinct called for him to hunt down anyone who’d coerced Nicholas into being something he wasn’t, anyone who thought to rob him of his sense of agency. But in that spirit, would Gabriel need to start with himself? Was he a savior, or a thief too?
Nicholas scrutinized him with open curiosity and suspicion, too transfixed to be embarrassed by the blatant lust emerging from behind his twinkling gaze—and between his legs. Gabriel did nothing to hide his own body’s reaction to being contemplated by him.
The visceral need they’d come to share for one another would be inescapable, and with Nicholas in the early stages of his transition, hunger and arousal would rule him. The fight against both would become harder, impossible to win. It already had, judging by his current profession.
Fear of how Nicholas would react once he learned the truth lodged deep in Gabriel’s gut, like a sharpened spear, extinguishing his desire.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the couch. “Please.”
The polite request tasted unfamiliar on his normally brash tongue.
Nicholas rejected Gabriel’s invitation to sit, choosing instead to step behind the couch. It hid him from the waist down, and he curled his fingers into the cushioned back, lines of anguish etched across his forehead.
“I’d rather stand for now.”
“Would you like something to drink?” Gabriel reached the wet bar in three long strides, pouring two glasses of water before Nicholas could answer.
“No, I—”
“Please, I insist.”
Gabriel stopped a couple feet away, holding the cold glass out to him.
Nicholas stared at the clear liquid, licking his parched lips but making no move to accept.
“It’s just water.”
The first of many lies Gabriel would tell. He’d pricked his finger, adding a drop of blood to the carafe. A temporary bandage for Nicholas’s arousal. It would quench his unending aridity, making his sexual needs easier to manage once his thirst was no longer competing for his affection.
Nicholas’s nostrils flared. “It… It smells like…”
“Like what?” Gabriel hedged, extending the glass closer. Nicholas squeezed the couch.
“I-I don’t know.” He declined again, but it was clear that the tainted water enticed him.
Gabriel circled the couch to lower onto the loveseat across from it. He placed both glasses onto the coffee table, but not before taking a calculated sip of his own.
They would get nowhere if Nicholas remained in the state he was in, and Gabriel was eager to get to his proposition, eager to have his lover returned to him in every way. He took another swig, insisting Nicholas sit when he swayed on his feet.
The manipulation had begun, and Gabriel quietly beseeched every God that the unblemished parts of him, the parts that had belonged to Zayn, weren’t buried too deep to unearth.
As it stood, he would do anything to have Nicholas.
Maybe that fact meant he did have some good in him.
Or maybe it reflected the true evil within.
Gabriel’s shoulders loosened when Nicholas tentatively perched on the edge of the couch cushion, his eyes never abandoning the glass of blood-water.
The coiled strands of his ash-brown hair hung loose with a wildness that didn’t seem deliberate, as if he’d ran a nervous hand through it.
A beautiful accident, and he was all the more enticing for it.
A thin gold chain circled his neck. The small crucifix adorning it lay askew, balancing lifelessly on the ridge of his collarbone.
His seated position caused the lapels of his blazer to bunch, revealing a tiny heart-shaped birthmark adjacent to the nipple of a defined pec.
“You’re beautiful,” Gabriel breathed.
Nicholas’s pupils dilated in response. He chewed on the corner of his lip, his gaze guarding the water.
“I haven’t poisoned it,” Gabriel promised. “You can have the rest of mine if it would make you more comfortable. Surely, I wouldn’t lace my own with something nefarious.”
He grinned, attempting to add levity to the tense atmosphere.
“Your employer has vetted me; we’re in a public place full of surveillance cameras and witnesses that can attest to who you were with tonight. You’ve already consented to our plans. I have no reason to hurt you, Nicholas.”
“Can’t ever be too careful.” Nicholas sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow. “Sorry, I’m suspicious by nature. Nothing personal.”
“That’s your instincts at play. Don’t ever abandon them.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re asking me to do?”
Gabriel angled his head, contemplating his mate. “What are your instincts telling you right now? Do you believe I pose a threat to you?”
Nicholas gnawed at his bottom lip again. “Not to me,” he qualified, then winced. “Sorry. This isn’t how things usually go.”
They sat in silence for a while as Nicholas white-knuckled the armrest.
“You’re not well,” said Gabriel.
“I’m fine. I’m just… tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“What’s keeping you awake?” Gabriel was afraid he already knew the answer.
Nicholas’s brows furrowed, his attention rooted to the table. “I’ve been having these
dreams…” he trailed off, eyes flicking to Gabriel’s before narrowing. “But you aren’t paying to hear about that.”
“I paid for your time. Your thoughts are worth more than sex to me.”
Nicholas’s lips parted sweetly at Gabriel’s hushed words, but the creases in his forehead deepened as he warred with his needs.
Gabriel inched the glass closer to Nicholas. “Drink, and if you don’t feel better, you can leave. Eliana doesn’t need to know.”
The thought of Nicholas leaving pressed down on Gabriel’s windpipe, and he withdrew his tin of rollies from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
“Do you mind?” He paused with his gold-plated lighter already in hand.
“No.”