Fate's Kiss Read online

  “I wish I didn’t. All I know with certainty is these murders aren’t random or committed by humans. They’re occurring too close to the brothel for me to ignore the possibility of a connection to Betsy. O’Brien is worried the next one will turn up on our door step and bring the constables down on our heads.”

  Bella frowned. “Despite her innocence, I feel Betsy is not all that she appears. Cassie and Randall are terrified of her and avoid her whenever possible. I just wish I knew what gives rise to my suspicions about her besides a witch’s intuition.”

  “Fate gives us intuition for a reason. I prefer to act on it before some catastrophe befalls us.” Anne sipped from her glass. “I have a plan but I fear it may be a case of the medicine will be far worse than the illness.”

  Bella arched an eyebrow. “I assume it involves your cousin’s husband.”

  “No, Demon Gabriel.”

  Bella didn’t hide her shock. “Given your affection for the man, I don’t think that’s a wise idea, Anne.”

  “Lust, not affection.”

  “You can name it whatever you wish, Tamahaq. There is more to your feelings for the man than a mere desire to share his bed. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the secret spying you’ve engaged in when he comes to Holland’s League. Or, the fact you avoid meeting with him.”

  Masking her embarrassment, Anne waved her hand dismissively. “None of that matters when it comes the safety of the women under my care. If Asiya were not pregnant, I’d seek Cadan’s advice. The next best thing is Demon. He and Cadan have spied for the king and Cadan trusts Demon with his life.”

  She looked at Bella. “I dread being beholden to the man but I have no choice. Ask Malcolm to arrange a meeting with him.”

  Bella’s intense scrutiny sent shivers down her back. It was obvious to Anne her friend was torn between her loyalty to the women of Holland’s League and her fear Demon was a threat. It was a trepidation Anne shared. Everything she knew about Demon Gabriel Elstone warned he was a dangerous man with secrets. She wasn’t certain she wanted to be the one to unlock them.

  “What if he’s your life mate, Tamahaq? What if the reason you fear and desire Demon Gabriel is because he’s the one Fate has chosen for you?”

  “Bite your tongue, Fatimah bint Abdullah,” Anne said with horror, calling Bella by her true name. “Fate would never be so cruel.”

  Bella laughed. “Angelic brothers are at war, our people are enslaved, humans are pawns in a game not of their making, and demons hound our every step.” She shook her head. “Fate can be very cruel, shape changer. You should know that better than anyone.”

  2

  Gabriel Elstone, Marquis of Alenesby and heir to the Duke of Seveham, leaned heavily on the stout yet much smaller man at his side. “Do stop your whining, man. We’re at Holland’s door.”

  Jonas Knox’s wheezing swirled in the noxious air. He muttered an invective on his employer and childhood friend’s head when Gabriel relaxed his body even more, causing him to stumble. Only Jonas’ quick reflexes kept them from tumbling into the Thames River.

  “One day, milord, I’m gonna let you savor the delights of the river. A bath in the Thames might do your blighted soul some good.”

  “I doubt it, my friend. Since I can’t swim, you’ll have to save my wretched arse and with it, sadly, my blighted soul.”

  Jonas snorted. As one of the two men involved in tracking down and bringing to justice Cornish smugglers, Gabriel Elstone was a better swimmer than any creature Jonas had come across, except maybe a fish. “Come on, let’s get you into this den of iniquity before I’m tempted to see if Fate is really looking after you.”

  “She prefers to ignore my existence just as I choose to put little faith in the idea of a destiny guided by an enigma who allowed me to be born,” Gabriel said, not masking his bitterness. “Come, I’m certain Cassie will be delighted to see you and I shan’t keep you from your lady love a moment longer.”

  Jonas guided Gabriel up the stone steps from the river’s edge to the landing while the water boat they traveled in made the return journey toward Westminster. As they approached the door to Holland’s League, Gabriel began a bawdy version of the ballad “Barbara Allen.” With each step, his singing became even more off-keyed. An irritated Jonas jerked him onto the porch and leaned him against one of the two columns that framed the brightly painted red door.

  “My lord, you’ll have the constables on us in a minute. Shush yer caterwauling.”

  Fortune took pity on Jonas as the door swung open and Gareth Malcolm, his large frame filling the entrance, glared at the two men. “Why’d you bring him here when he’s in his cups?”

  “He insisted he’d been summoned by Mistress Holland and wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “I don’t think Mistress Holland will look fondly on this foolishness.” Malcolm said before grabbing Gabriel’s free arm.

  He shouldered Gabriel’s weight and guided him into the building. “Close the door, Jonas. My lord, lower your voice. The ladies are entertaining tonight.”

  “That’s fine, Malcolm,” Gabriel slurred. “Maybe you should take me to Angelica or Celeste instead. I’m enjoying my inebriation and I’m certain Mistress Holland will render me sober with just a look should our paths cross.” He lurched forward. “That’s the thing, take me to Celeste. She’s a comely wench.”

  Malcolm ignored him and led him down a well-lit hallway past one of two salons. Gabriel began softly singing once more.

  “Is that Demon Gabriel?” a sultry voice called out. “If it is, bring him to me.”

  Gabriel halted and, after a few seconds of blinking, focused his gaze on a small balcony that overhung the corridor. “Am I hearing the sweet siren call of an angel?”

  Feminine laughter rang out. “Aye, Demon, it’s Angel.”

  He attempted a bow. Luckily, Malcolm and Jonas caught him before he fell flat on his face. Pushing their hands aside, he swayed a bit then righted himself. “Direct me to the fair Angelica, Malcolm. It’s time I tasted one of Mistress Holland’s prized dishes.”

  “Perhaps later, my lord.”

  Malcolm firmed his grip and guided Gabriel to the end of the hall. After a few meandering turns, they reached a dimly lit alcove. A pair of marble statues, one of Venus and the other Cupid, sat on tables opposite each other. Gabriel straightened his body, putting some distance between him and the two men at his side. He watched Malcolm drag his right hand along the smooth interior wall just behind the statue of Venus. To the right of Malcolm’s fingers, where two walls joined, a seam appeared and the walls parted to create an opening.

  “After you, my lord.”

  Gabriel walked through the opening, Jonas and Malcolm at his heels. A faint whoosh echoed in the anteroom where they stood as the opening resealed itself. Malcolm stepped to the forefront and started down a well-lit passage. Gabriel followed until the Scot abruptly halted before a wall. Four raps on the stone and a portion of the wall swung outward. Malcolm stood to one side.

  “Do you have any idea why the subterfuge?” Gabriel asked.

  “None, my lord.”

  He frowned and turned to Jonas. “Meet me in an hour outside the Hazard room.”

  Jonas nodded and he and Malcolm retraced their path down the corridor. Gabriel’s gaze remained on them until the two men disappeared into the passageway’s dark shadows. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the entrance to what was obviously a secret room. The thought that entering Anne Holland’s lair was going to forever change his existence flitted across his mind before it abruptly died. It wasn’t as if he truly cared about his life. He was undead. He just preferred to be the one managing what happened to him.

  Gabriel strolled into the room. The soft hiss of the false door closing seemed to reinforce the notion this meeting would not bode well for his peace. His eyes adjusted to the brighter light as he halted. The room surprised him. It lacked the ostentatious look of the rest of the brothel; the room’s sole purpose was to conduct
business. A plain writing desk and several chairs confirmed what he suspected about Anne Holland. The simplicity was intended to put one at ease. Anyone who entered had no idea they were immediately at a distinct disadvantage in their dealings with the bawd.

  He looked around the sparsely furnished room before his gaze settled on the tapestry covering the wall behind the desk. It was an image incongruous with the room’s furniture. The elaborate design captured the subtle colors and life of a desert. Palm trees, camels, and a pool of water reminded the watcher of the lives dependent on the oases that dotted the land. The longer he stared at the hanging, the more a sense of familiarity and belonging gripped him. Small details made themselves plain to his eyes. The mountains loomed closer and what had seemed a shadow was actually a cave, its mouth dark and mysterious.

  His body jerked backward when a man and a woman emerged from the cave and into the sunlight. A small child stood between them, his small hands lost in their larger ones. Forcing his body to relax, Gabriel leaned forward to study the tapestry. Recognition seemed to build slowly the longer he stared. The brown-skinned woman’s face was eerily familiar while the man’s visage skirted naming. No matter how hard he focused, Gabriel could not place where he might have seen or met the couple or the child.

  “Good evening, Lord Elstone.”

  Gabriel’s head whipped in the direction of the voice. A doorway breached the wall to his left and swung open. He blinked rapidly before shifting his gaze back to the wall hanging. He blinked several more times, stunned to find himself staring at a blank wall. The tapestry had vanished. He shook his head and wondered if blood hunger had clouded his mind, causing him see things that weren’t there.

  “Welcome to Holland’s League. I’m Anne Holland.”

  He spent a few seconds ordering his thoughts as the brothel’s owner seemed to glide into the room. “Mistress Holland, it is a pleasure to finally come face to face with you.”

  Despite the elegant gown she wore, Anne Holland carried a coffee tray as if she were a servant. She set it on a table next to the desk. In addition to the coffee pot, there was a small silver dish filled with sugar, several spoons, and a porcelain jar brimming with cream. Gabriel realized he must have looked confused because she smiled and said, “I dislike the taste of coffee without sugar and cream. Please, have a seat, my lord.”

  He hesitated when another female entered, her blood giving off a heady scent. Gabriel’s fangs pushed against the inside of his mouth before he forced his body into a state of disinterest and seated himself. His eyes, however, scanned the serving girl.

  Except for an awkward gait, she was well-formed, albeit a bit too thin for his taste. He judged her height to be average, and equally average looks made her dark hair and light blue eyes uninteresting. His gaze shifted to her hands. Elegant fingers placed the tray she carried on the same table as the coffee.

  Gabriel hooded his gaze when she turned to face him. Her eyes seemed to lose their ordinariness and became mysterious. For a brief second, he saw through the simplistic expression she wore to the seductress hidden by plain clothes and a limp. He sucked in air and slowly released it. The pale irises staring at him were all too aware of their power. The servant’s mouth formed a beguiling smile as she bowed to him and left the room.

  “Coffee, my lord?”

  “Yes, thank you. Two sugars.”

  Anne peered at him as she prepared their coffee. “Betsy is intrigued by you, my lord.”

  “A bit too young and innocent for my taste, although her mouth is inviting,” Gabriel drawled.

  Anne handed him his cup and sat behind her desk. She raised her cup to her lips and sipped slowly. “If you are hungry, there are sweet cakes on the tray Betsy brought in.” She paused as if considering her words, then looked directly into his eyes.

  “I only have two vices, coffee and mysteries. You, Lord Elstone, are a mystery and therefore a potential vice.”

  Setting her cup on the desk, she continued to stare at him. “You were interested in more than Betsy’s mouth given the slight inhalation when you saw her face fully. The faint perspiration above your top lip and the twitch of your left thigh where your cock currently rests in some discomfort also betray your interest.”

  A cool smile formed on her lips. “Be warned, my lord, Betsy has not joined our confederacy and therefore is unavailable.”

  Gabriel’s laughter, untainted by its usual cynicism, shocked him. Anne Holland’s ability to read a man’s lust so quickly was a warning not to underestimate the brothel owner. “How was she injured?”

  Anne looked at him, her surprise evident. “Not the question I expected. I have no idea. She came to Holland’s League already lame.”

  “Came to you?”

  “O’Brien found her in Shoreditch, near the Old North Road. He brought her here. She’d been much abused and I suspect Betsy isn’t her actual name.”

  “The grounds for your suspicion?”

  Anne took a sip of her coffee. “She was cared for and once her health was sufficiently recovered, I paid her a visit. She hesitated before giving me the name Betsy. To this day we have no knowledge of her surname.”

  “How long has she been with you?”

  “Almost two months,” Anne replied, dragging her fingers through her blonde curls. “There’s something about her.”

  “That troubles you,” Gabriel offered.

  She nodded. “Betsy is not one of us, not our kind.”

  “What do you mean, not your kind?”

  “She’s of good birth, like you. Sometimes she forgets her servant’s cant and speaks as if her parents were nobility. Betsy’s manners are also impeccable, although she tries to fit in. And she came to me with the ability to read and write, which none of the other women possessed until I had them tutored.”

  “Perhaps her former master taught her.”

  She shook her head. “She reads French, Italian, and Latin far too elegantly. She swears to run away if I continue to plague her about her past.”

  Gabriel set his empty cup on the desk. “Why not let it be?”

  “I can’t. Since Betsy was brought here, a number of mutilated bodies have been found near Holland’s League. Their deaths are unusual and I’d prefer Holland’s League not be tainted by murder. Immorality we can survive.”

  Anne rose from her chair and went to stand in front of the desk. She leaned against it and stared down at him. “I understand you’ve requested an invitation to the auction.”

  “I did.”

  “I have a proposal for you,” she said. “I’m aware you and Jack Cade have done service to the King. I have need of your skills. I will issue you an invitation if you agree to uncover information about Betsy’s past and whether there is a connection between her and these murders.”

  Gabriel didn’t bat an eyelash at Anne’s mention of his clandestine activities. The brothel owner’s awareness of his relationship to “Jack Cade” would be investigated alongside the task she had for him. He pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should letting sleeping dogs lie, Mistress Holland.”

  A dark look flitted across her face before she schooled her expression and returned to her seat. “Do you accept my offer, Lord Elstone?”

  Gabriel tented his fingers and rested his chin on his thumbs. His eyelids half-lowered, he studied the owner of Holland’s League. Anne Holland was no beauty, though she wasn’t unattractive. At best she was a comely woman. Her blue eyes and dark blond hair were English ordinary. Even beneath the silk gown her body was voluptuous, like those in a Reubens’ painting and probably just as pale. In fact, he thought as she nervously tapped her finger on her desk, she reminded him of a fattened partridge. Delectable enough to consume.

  At the thought his gaze went to Anne’s throat. The erratic beat of her pulse sounded like a drum inside his head. His body grew taut and his fangs pushed against the inside of his lips. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind on her smooth white hands until his canines retracted enough for him t
o speak.

  “On one condition.”

  “And that condition is, my lord?”

  Her expression was guarded and he leaned towards her, resting his elbows on the desk. Gabriel watched her struggle to maintain composure. A smile formed on his mouth. “One night with you, and the truth as to why you need my services and the source of your information about my activities.”

  She stared at him, her lips parted in amazement. Gabriel hadn’t the slightest clue why he imposed the condition on his services. Anne Holland was hardly the type of woman whose bed he sought. She really was a bit too plump and pale for his liking. Her uncanny way of seeming to look right through him, as if into his soul, was equally bothersome. So why did he make his aid conditional on bedding her?

  He heard the rapid drumming of her heart beat and excitement raced through him. Perhaps it was the seductive draw of her enticing throat that amplified the sound. He imagined the gentle scrap of his teeth against the soft flesh before sinking his fangs and drinking. The thought was so potent, he could almost taste the sweet metallic liquid flowing from her throat and down his.

  “You are a veritable enigma, Lord Elstone,” she said, her words breaking the spell that gripped him.

  Gabriel raised his eyelids and peered at her. Her scrutiny burned into his flesh until a smile erased the frown that pinched her forehead. “I will agree if I may add a codicil of my own,” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

  An inquisitive eyebrow lifted and he said, “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “Don’t be,” she replied with a laugh. “My condition is rather simple. Whatever occurs between us in a bedchamber will be on my terms, not yours.“

  A slow grin crawled across Gabriel’s mouth. He allowed a few seconds to hover between them before he answered. “Agreed.”

  She opened a drawer of the desk and lifted out a folded vellum sheet. Handing it to him, she stood. “I will see you in two days’ time, my lord. I wish you good hunting.”