Page 9 of Revelations

But what if she did not fulfill the prophecy? Would Kael murder Kelly and her family?

She had always imagined that Kael was not one for taking orders from anyone. But working with, or for, the rotten fallen angel…well, that shattered the rose-colored glasses that she had been wearing where he was involved. It reinforced the picture of him as a black-hearted, soulless monster; a vision that she had readily replaced in her own imagination with someone less evil, more caring, and more trustworthy. Hell, she had willingly left him to “protect” Kelly at the inn while she had raced off to DC to save her newfound psychic friend.

Apparently, she had been fatally wrong.

The revelation tore her heart in two, but her mind recognized that somehow it made sense. Maybe that was why she had always seemed to run into him over the years. He’d been always watching herforOlivier, biding his time until the situation called for her to fulfill the supposed prophecy that no one knew anything about. Any shred of imagination or wishful thinking that Kael had kept coming around her because of something else, something she dared not name, floated away like bonfire ashes in a windstorm.

Everything had been designed to bring her to Olivier at just the right time for the prophecy.

Ugh! The damn prophecy! Kinda hard to fulfill anything if I’m turned into a vamp.

“Okay, fine then. Maybe I believe you’re not in league with the vamps.” Even if that was the lesser of the two evils he could have teamed up with. “I don’t suppose you have any thoughts on how to get us out of here?”

What about the human girl and her boyfriend? Had they been captured? If so, had they been turned, or killed? There was not much that she could do to save herself with her hands shackled behind her back, much less for anyone else. She was strong. He was probably stronger. But breaking iron cuffs thick enough to imprison an elephant?

His voice was calm, without a hint of amusement, so his next sentence shocked her. “Seeing as we are both immobile, my first suggestion is to wait to see what those imbeciles want.”

“Wait! Great strategy, Kael! Just brilliant!”

“I’m open to suggestions, love.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Every utterance of the wordlovefrom his lips sent warm shivers throughout her body. Even that first encounter when she had been dressed up as a British lad sneaking into a pub, he had called her that; and it still affected her the same way, over four hundred and fifty years later.

If they were to get out of here, she needed to be free of his distractions. Most likely, that would require eliminating the source of the distraction.

Jasper had been right on that first night, telling her what to do if she ran into Kael again; she had blatantly ignored the best advice she hadever been given…

“…either annihilate him completely with your dagger through his heart and then rip it out of his body while it’s still beating; or run. Just run.”

A loud creaking reverberated through the room, as a sliver of incandescent light slipped in through a slim doorway. After a soft flicking sound, white light blinded her momentarily. When she was able to blink away the pain, her vision adjusted and the bare room came into focus.

A tall, lithe form strolled into the room. Mid-to-late forties, Greylyn guessed, but considering that he was a vampire, he could have been hundreds of years old. Dressed in tight black jeans, a white button-down linen shirt, and shiny Bostonian plain toe Oxfords, the man was clean-shaven with a flawless light complexion and sparkling amethyst eyes. For a vampire, even she had to admit that he was sexy; more manly than theTwilightdude, but not quite as debonair as Antonio Banderas.

“Bonswa, welcome to our home. My name is Claude Bartolome. I regret that your initial stay might have been less than comfortable, but I thought it best to speak with you first before moving you to a more suitable room. This way, we can get to know each other better without any nastiness like you experienced at the club. Mila can be a bit…overzealous during introductions.”

Which one was Mila? She really did notcare what any of their names were, but that was an incredibly old school moniker.

“Yes, dear.” Claude interjected as if she had spoken aloud. “Mila comes from the Old Country.” His lips spread into a perfect smile, worthy of a spokesmodel for an orthodontist. “And she is the red-haired one. She is really quite lovely once you get to know her.”

Charming for a blood-sucking monster. Love the Creole accent.

“I am sure you have plenty of questions. I promise to give you the truth, if you but give me the chance to present you with an enticing offer.”

More likely, his offer entailed a little piercing pain in the neck and then nonstop Bloody Marys until the end of time.

“Listen, sir,” she said as she purposefully avoided eye contact. Normally, her guardian angel abilities kept her from falling into the thrall of demons or other creatures with hypnotizing stares, but she was not ready to trust herself again just yet, not after getting her ass kicked by two of his minions. “I appreciate your hospitality and all, but we’re not interested in purchasing a time share. All I want is to get out of here and find my friend. Is she okay?”

“Oui, oui. Kristina is fine. She is resting comfortably in her own room along with her paramour, Brian. We happily reunited them just a few moments ago.”

Wow, who uses terms like “paramour” these days? This guy must be ancient!

Greylyn desperately wanted to know if they had been turned already but did not want to give away that she recognized what he truly was—a vampire. If he was unaware that she was a guardian angel, it was best to keep him in the dark until after the cuffs were off.

“By the IDs in your pockets, I assume I have the pleasure of meeting Miss Greylyn MacLeod and Mister Kael O’Shea.” One eyebrow arched over one violet eye, disappearing underneath his jet-black hair, seeming to dare them to say “no.”

“Now that we’re done with the introductions, why don’t you unchain us and let us leave?” Kael’s tone was pleasant, but had a tense edge to it—probably because his own ego needed redemption from being captured, too.

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