Chapter One
Get in. Get out. Easy enough.
But then Gabriel Forrester should have known from personal experience that anything involving Marina DeMornay was never easy.
The guards pulled the black cloth sack off his head and removed the silver cuffs from his wrists. All the way down he’d played up his weakened state intentionally so they wouldn’t use an additional dose of dead man’s blood on him. He’d listened intently to the changes in the sound of their footing as they walked: the silent shush from the smooth marble floors of the church, to echoing on the stone staircases, then rasping on wood-timbered floors one level above the cells. He’d also concentrated on the scents, and smelled something old, dusty, mortal.
He allowed the guards to toss him to the slimy foul-smelling stone floor, worn smooth by the countless centuries of prisoners who’d been held in the bowels of the medieval Sicilian church. No one but vampire hunters and underworld criminals knew about it now. He sincerely doubted the Capuchin monks who’d built their monastery upon the ruins of the church would have approved of what was going on several stories beneath their feet.
“That should hold him.” The thickset guards, hired by vampire hunters, grunted with satisfaction.
Yeah. And if you believe that, I’ve got a body bag with your name on it. Gabriel tried not to inhale the stench of body odor, a blend of stale sweat and old cheese, coming off of the guards as he lifted up from the floor and glared at them.
He waited until he could no longer see the yellow orbs of sallow light from their flashlights bobbing against the thick stone walls. Closing his eyes he focused his acute hearing past the rasp of their conversation, past the constant dripping of water down the walls, past the rumble of traffic from the city above filtering through the earth.
A distinctly female groan, soft and laced with pain, snapped his eyes open.
There! A sigh. A murmured echo of her voice was all he needed to pinpoint Marina’s location in the vast labyrinth of ancient cells beneath the city of Palermo. He concentrated on turning his power inward so he could flux, shifting the structure of his body to become invisible, then phased himself through the thick walls of stone, toward her.
Down another hall, through six more cells he passed unnoticed except by the rats that shifted their beady dark eyes in his direction, their noses twitching. He followed the sound of her breathing, then caught the sweet heady fragrance of orange blossoms blooming under a midnight sky. A scent that was distinctly Marina’s and seared into his memory like none other. She was damn close.
Gabriel phased through the stone wall, letting it slip around him like thick-set gelatin. His chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of her. Her dark hair, once chocolate-colored silk he’d fantasized about, covered her face in dull matted snarls as she lay on the stained army cot wedged in the corner of her cell. At one time he’d lived and breathed for this woman, only to have her choose to become the mistress of a vampire royal over him. It did not help that the royal, Niccolo Venciezio, had been his best friend, or that Gabriel had literally given his life, and chosen to become a vampire for her only to have it thrown back in his face.
He knelt beside the cot, brushing the strands of limp hair away from her face. The familiar sweep of her dark brows and the curve of her cheek greeted him. A fist grabbed around his heart and squeezed hard. While her features were seared into his mind, the waxen pallor of her skin was far different from how she looked at Niccolo’s funeral—the last time he’d seen her. Then she’d been grief stricken and with dark smudges beneath her eyes, but this was far worse. She was thinner, the darkness beneath her eyes almost bruiselike. Totally uncharacteristic for the strong vampiress he’d known and lov— Gabe shook his head to dislodge the thought.
Get in. Get out. Easy enough.
But then Gabriel Forrester should have known from personal experience that anything involving Marina DeMornay was never easy.
The guards pulled the black cloth sack off his head and removed the silver cuffs from his wrists. All the way down he’d played up his weakened state intentionally so they wouldn’t use an additional dose of dead man’s blood on him. He’d listened intently to the changes in the sound of their footing as they walked: the silent shush from the smooth marble floors of the church, to echoing on the stone staircases, then rasping on wood-timbered floors one level above the cells. He’d also concentrated on the scents, and smelled something old, dusty, mortal.
He allowed the guards to toss him to the slimy foul-smelling stone floor, worn smooth by the countless centuries of prisoners who’d been held in the bowels of the medieval Sicilian church. No one but vampire hunters and underworld criminals knew about it now. He sincerely doubted the Capuchin monks who’d built their monastery upon the ruins of the church would have approved of what was going on several stories beneath their feet.
“That should hold him.” The thickset guards, hired by vampire hunters, grunted with satisfaction.
Yeah. And if you believe that, I’ve got a body bag with your name on it. Gabriel tried not to inhale the stench of body odor, a blend of stale sweat and old cheese, coming off of the guards as he lifted up from the floor and glared at them.
He waited until he could no longer see the yellow orbs of sallow light from their flashlights bobbing against the thick stone walls. Closing his eyes he focused his acute hearing past the rasp of their conversation, past the constant dripping of water down the walls, past the rumble of traffic from the city above filtering through the earth.
A distinctly female groan, soft and laced with pain, snapped his eyes open.
There! A sigh. A murmured echo of her voice was all he needed to pinpoint Marina’s location in the vast labyrinth of ancient cells beneath the city of Palermo. He concentrated on turning his power inward so he could flux, shifting the structure of his body to become invisible, then phased himself through the thick walls of stone, toward her.
Down another hall, through six more cells he passed unnoticed except by the rats that shifted their beady dark eyes in his direction, their noses twitching. He followed the sound of her breathing, then caught the sweet heady fragrance of orange blossoms blooming under a midnight sky. A scent that was distinctly Marina’s and seared into his memory like none other. She was damn close.
Gabriel phased through the stone wall, letting it slip around him like thick-set gelatin. His chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of her. Her dark hair, once chocolate-colored silk he’d fantasized about, covered her face in dull matted snarls as she lay on the stained army cot wedged in the corner of her cell. At one time he’d lived and breathed for this woman, only to have her choose to become the mistress of a vampire royal over him. It did not help that the royal, Niccolo Venciezio, had been his best friend, or that Gabriel had literally given his life, and chosen to become a vampire for her only to have it thrown back in his face.
He knelt beside the cot, brushing the strands of limp hair away from her face. The familiar sweep of her dark brows and the curve of her cheek greeted him. A fist grabbed around his heart and squeezed hard. While her features were seared into his mind, the waxen pallor of her skin was far different from how she looked at Niccolo’s funeral—the last time he’d seen her. Then she’d been grief stricken and with dark smudges beneath her eyes, but this was far worse. She was thinner, the darkness beneath her eyes almost bruiselike. Totally uncharacteristic for the strong vampiress he’d known and lov— Gabe shook his head to dislodge the thought.
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