Gabriel (22 page)

“They've been talking for ages!” she whined. We were positioned in front of the window overlooking the garden, and there was still no sign of movement from the motor home.

“It's fine; nothing's wrong. I'd know if there was,” I said. Jonah had been right—it had been only an hour and the vodka had already worn off.

“I just want to know what's happening. Fergal wants to stay here, until we leave.” She tipped my head forward and began separating my hair, twisting it and shoving a clip through the top layer. “I'm thinking pixie cut. Let's go über short, with some volume on the top.”

“No. Keep as much length as you can.”

I would never be able to grow my hair back down to my waist. As Brooke had pointed out, the whole frozen-in-time thing apparently didn't allow for regrowth.

“Really? I think a pixie cut makes more of a statement. Plus it's really in right now—all the celebs are wearing it.” She relaxed her body, waiting for my reply.

“No thanks. Just tidy it up.”

Brooke huffed and began trimming. When she started chuckling to herself for no apparent reason, I asked, “Something funny?”

“Oh, no, no, I just remembered something Fergal said the other day. It's nothing—an in-joke—you wouldn't get it.”

“Fergal, right … Did you not bother to get to know any of the others while you were there? Iona is really sweet,” I said, playing with a loose thread in my top while trying not to move about too much.

“Iona? Jeez, you're kidding me, right? She's a wet fish. She's worse than you were when we met! Total loser.” She stopped chopping and released the hairclip, making a start on the top. “No, I spent most of my time with Fergal. You said he might know where your mother was, so, you know.” She didn't elaborate, taking a second to think before continuing. “Can't say I minded much—he's pretty easy on the eyes.”

Brooke finally began fluffing my now-damp hair and then went to get some mousse from her bag. I started to wonder if my mother's whereabouts were the only reason she had been frequenting the Irish group.

“Right. And how are things … you know, between you and Jonah?” I posed the question, dangerous as it was.

Squirting the white foam into her palm, she rubbed her hands together and began massaging it into my scalp. “Okay, I guess. I feel, well, I feel less of a pull to him these days. I've been learning to drink from mortals. When you were, you know, dead, he was unavailable, so Ruadhan helped me. Since then, Jonah's been taking me out, teaching me how to control my thirst so that I don't kill anyone. When Jonah was sick, Ruadhan took over again. It's been going really well.” She sounded pleased.

“But I thought that, because you weren't changed by a Pureblood, you needed to drink from Jonah to get what you need?”

Moving in front of me, Brooke placed her thumbs over my forehead before brushing my bangs across my eye. “Sit still,” she instructed, as she reached for her scissors and started snipping again. “The Purebloods change light souls and feed off dark ones; Jonah says it's for the dark energy that's carried in the blood. Second Generation Vampires feed off dark souls, too, but unlike the Purebloods they were human once, so they need the blood to keep their bodies functioning, as well as for the dark matter.” She angled my chin up and combed through my bangs once more. “Jonah thought, because he was my maker and he's not a Pureblood, that I couldn't survive on mortal blood alone, that it wouldn't be enough—and he had no faith that I wouldn't be able to take it without killing.” She paused, scraping my bangs back, and wiggled her eyebrows. “He was wrong on both counts.”

“Okay, but you are bonded to Jonah through blood. You've spent your entire existence feeding off another Vampire. I didn't think anyone or anything else would ever compare?” This was at least what Gabriel had led me to believe.

Brooke shuffled past me in search of her hair dryer and flat iron. “True. Until the day he no longer exists, I will be bonded to him, but if you want to label me, I'm Third Generation. I think perhaps the connection isn't as strong as it would be if I were a Second Generation, like him.” She stopped and sighed. “Maybe I've just lost interest. I mean, the physical connection will always be there, but I guess, emotionally speaking, I've left the building.” Scratching the back of her head, she marched over, uncoiled the wire, and proceeded to blow-dry my hair.

Huh. That was the last thing I had expected Brooke to say, but then I couldn't help but suspect that perhaps Fergal might have something to do with it.

The heat blowing on my bare neck was a new sensation. When Brooke finished, she unplugged the dryer and switched on the irons, twirling her own waves into a large bun on the top of her head to keep it from falling into her eyes, grunting as she did. “Jeez, be grateful that your hair's short.”

Why she had bothered to get dark hair extensions was a mystery to me. But then, in doing so, she had inadvertently helped to save Jonah's life by resembling me. Had she decided to go long in some weird attempt to look a little more like me in the first place? The girl Jonah had taken a liking to in the nightclub also had long dark hair. Had Brooke been trying to conform to what she thought was Jonah's “type”? While the idea seemed ludicrous, Brooke's next statement made me think that maybe I was on to something.

“I'm taking them out, first chance I get. I don't want them anymore.” She stopped for a moment, craning her neck over my shoulder and scanning outside. “I wish they'd hurry up. I want to see—” Brooke caught herself quickly. “Well, I need to go see them. Who knows how long you have before you gotta leave, and that question of yours still needs answering. Clock's ticking,” she mused.

“Sounds like you want to see your new buddy.” It didn't really make any sense. Fergal had a light soul.

“I wouldn't say that.” She now set her irons on my newly cut hair. “Fergal is hot, though. Did I mention that?”

“Yeah, you mentioned … and you said all of them are light souls. That would include Fergal, right?”

“Yup. I don't feel the urge to drink him—any of them—dry.” Curling the ends of my hair in her palm, she encouraged them to sit neatly as she further mused, “It's weird. When I'm close to Fergal, I feel, I dunno, kinda calm, sort of chill.”

Funny, that was how I had felt when Fergal had come close to me, too.

She didn't continue with the conversation. Plumping a little more mousse into my two-toned layers, she unplugged the irons but was distracted by a sight outside. “Gabriel and Ruadhan are coming out. Let's go see what's happening!” she practically squealed.

Brooke rushed out of the room, but I stopped briefly to check the haircut in the mirror sitting on top of the dresser. Although I should have been assessing my new sweeping bob, I was drawn instantly to my own eyes: They were still muddied—the sapphire-blue irises looked drained.

I attempted to tuck my new bangs behind my ear. I was sluggish at best as I descended the stairs. I had no idea whether my abilities were still working, but I knew without them, something terrible could happen.

Gabriel called us into the kitchen, and I took a seat at the table, glancing at him and then at Ruadhan. Jonah was perched on top of the island in the middle of the kitchen, but I didn't meet his eye.

“So, can they stay?” Brooke piped up, unable to contain herself.

“Lailah and I will be leaving here in two days,” Gabriel began. “They can stay until then.”

If I wanted to find out where my mother was, I was running out of time. And now I had a whole new problem: trying to survive without blood and the dark energy that came with it.

“The day after tomorrow? But that's so soon,” Brooke argued.

“What do you know about them?” I asked softly.

Gabriel hesitated, but finally slid out a chair and took a seat. Ruadhan strode toward the back door, keeping a watch outside.

“The fixed gateways to the first and third dimensions both sit on the outskirts of Lucan, from whence the group hails.” Gabriel directed his answer only to me, not looking to Brooke or Jonah. “It seems that, for generations, the O'Sileabhin family has served the town as both the reverends of the church and protectors of the congregation—guarding them from, well, demons. They formed a band of men known as the Sealgaire—Vampire Hunters.”

I shook my head. “Fixed gateways?”

“Yes, in Styclar-Plena there is a gateway that remains open at all times. It was the first rift that Orifiel passed through; it never closed. The gateway out opens on Earth in Lucan, and not far from it there is another gateway—a dark one—that is fixed, leading to the third dimension.”

“Then why do the Angels need the crystals to command the rifts?”

“For exactly that: to command them. So the rifts open where a light soul is leaving a mortal's body, wherever in the world that may be.”

Gabriel smiled, and I was sure it was at the thought, the memory of his home, of Styclar-Plena. Inadvertently reminding me that he and I didn't share the same views on Orifiel's solution to keeping the crystal in Styclar-Plena fueled. When he had told me the story of Styclar-Plena—the solution devised of fueling the crystal with the light energy released from mortals—he didn't seem conflicted by the fact that for every rift the Angels opened to claim the light souls, further rifts had also opened from the third dimension as well. The Angels coming here was the very reason the Purebloods had been able to come, too, and they took the lives of humans. A sacrifice the Arch Angels deemed worthy to keep their world alive, and one that in my opinion was not the Arch Angels' to make.

“I met one of the reverends myself in Lucan, nearly a hundred years ago, when I was passing through. The O'Sileabhin family has been around for a long, long while.” He paused. “They told me that they now travel in search of a girl they were instructed to seek out and protect. That would be you.” Gabriel gripped his hands together in a prayerlike shape, and I could almost hear his thoughts turning over.

“And what do you think? Are they okay? They don't mean me any harm?” I asked, playing once again with my wayward bangs.

Gabriel observed my action, and his dimples dipped. “Your work, Brooke?” He looked to her.

“Sadly,” Brooke huffed. “She wouldn't let me cut it any shorter.”

Gabriel's eyes flitted back to me, and they glowed as he smiled.

Jonah jumped down from the island, snorting as he did and pulling a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. As he patted the bottom of the box, drawing one free, he said, “Haircuts? Seriously? Gabriel, there's a bunch of trigger-happy kids out there who are in the business of maiming Vampires. Might not concern you, but the rest of us are exactly what they like to shoot at.” He lit the end of his smoke.

“Not everyone else here is a Vampire,” Gabriel replied with a scowl.

“Oh, I'm sorry—I forgot for a moment. S-silver doesn't have any effect on her whatsoever, does it?” As he stuttered, the same angry expression that he'd shared with me in the bedroom found its way over his face—the one he'd had as he recalled the silver blade with which he had scarred me. He collected himself quickly. “She has fangs; she drinks blood. So, in case you hadn't noticed, yeah, she's a Vampire, too.” Jonah blew out a stream of smoke from his nose, and his knuckles ground into the wooden work top.

Gabriel rose from his chair, knocking it over as he did, and glared at Jonah. “No. Unlike you, she doesn't have to drink blood. Lailah's different from you—she's like me. Don't you forget that,” he growled.

Ruadhan swiftly sped over and stood between the two, placing a hand on both of their chests. “Okay, lads, come on, we're on the same team here.”

Jonah continued to tug on his cigarette, but after a moment Gabriel relented and turned back around to Brooke and me. “I've told you before, I trust no one, Lai, not where you're concerned. But I'd rather have them here, with us, where I can keep an eye on them.” He paused. “They were sent to
save the girl
. I've now given them permission to help
protect the girl
instead.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“They came armed and ready to fight. Forty-eight hours and we're gone from here. In the meantime, should the Purebloods or the Arch Angels get even a whiff of where you are and come looking, the lads out there will be waiting,” Gabriel said.

Jonah snarled. “You're giving the kid farmers permission to stalk around this house with guns loaded with silver bullets and god knows what else? You have got to be kidding me.”

“It's all right, lad. Gabriel's made it clear they're not to come in the house with any silver or any weapons. They'll be guarding the property from the grounds,” Ruadhan added.

Gabriel didn't even acknowledge Jonah; instead, he pointed at Brooke and then at me. “They think that Brooke is you, and that you're Brooke. That's the way it's going to stay, for your safety. Okay?”

Brooke seemed to breathe a sigh of relief; I could only assume that she didn't want to have to tell her new friends that she'd been lying to them all this time.

“And what about Brooke's safety?” I said.

Brooke didn't give Gabriel a chance to respond, cutting in quickly. “No, no, I'm fine with that. They're on our side. I'm not worried. You keep being me and I'll keep being you.”

“Very honorable of you, Gabriel. Never mind about Brooke, hey?” Jonah piped up, echoing my thoughts.

Again Gabriel ignored him. “Lai, you were right. They don't believe that Vampires were ever human. They know me to be an Angel, and their family has had encounters with our kind before, so they trust that what I am telling them is the truth. I've explained that I granted redemption on behalf of the Lord to Ruadhan, Jonah, and yourself, and that you work for me now.”