Fearless Magic (Star-Crossed #3)

Fearless Magic (Star-Crossed #3) Page 10

I turned on my heel, not sure what to expect or how even to respond to the question. My eyes met a man that appeared to be in his late thirties, although the prickling in my blood, alerting me of his Immortal origins, reminded me that his appearance meant nothing when it came to his actual age and my human-upbringing perspective.

Gabriel had deeply tanned, brown skin, and black, glossy hair shaved close to his scalp that shined even in the dim lighting. He wore the traditional garb of the priesthood, the white square against his neck standing out starkly in the delicate candlelight. Around his neck he wore a burgundy rosary with large, worn beads, that he fingered absentmindedly.

He could easily have passed for any of the myriad of Peruvian Catholic priests, if it weren't for his eyes. Eyes that glowed orange against the poor lighting, eyes that at first I thought merely reflected the candlelight, but I soon realized that they glowed brightly as if on fire. Eyes that flamed orange as if they themselves were the setting sun, orange as if they were the spark of light in the oppressive darkness that were the only things strong enough to burn the entire world to the ground.

Turning uncomfortable under my scrutinizing stare, Gabriel clenched his jaw. I took a step forward, a step towards him and his lips pressed disapprovingly together. He was afraid of me, afraid of what I was capable of.

But, he had no reason to be. In his stance of firm determination, I saw what I needed; I saw what I wanted. He had the look of a man hungry for a fight, desperate for blood. His priest costume was only that, only a distraction from the eyes that burned brightest when challenged, that glowed when blood was demanded and sacrifice expected.

“I'm Eden,” I offered, narrowing my eyes in gut reaction to this man who embodied the will to fight.

“I know who you are,” Gabriel replied confidently, “your parents were here three days ago.”

Chapter Eight

“They were here,” I demanded, standing up straighter and crossing my arms in an over-dramatic huff, “three days ago?”

“Yes.” Gabriel tapped three of his fingers sequentially against his thigh as if mentally calculating his claim. “Yes, yes, three days ago.”

“And were they.... were they....” I didn't even know how to approach this conversation. “Were they looking for me?”

“No,” the priest replied simply. His eyes flashed with the color of fire, the brightest orange for a moment before settling into a burning flame that would warm the coldest room. He took a step forward, so that he was fully inside the sanctuary, and with his step the candles surrounding the alter flared suddenly, just like his eyes, and then settled back into soft flames offering the silent prayers uttered at their lighting to the heavens.

“Well,” I started, trying to brush off the wave of irritation that washed violently over me. “Well, then, what were they doing here?” I asked indignantly.

“They came for the same reason you have, to ask me to join your cause.” Gabriel's thick, melodic and rich Peruvian accent was answered me with the smallest of smiles, a deep dimple coming to life on his right cheek.

“And what did you tell them?” I inquired casually, downplaying the hope rising inside of me.

“I told them I would think about it,” he answered, cocking his head to the side and gazing at me as if sizing me up through his unique eyes.

“So, have you?” I cut to the chase, realizing it might not be so impossible to catch up with my parents if they were only three days ahead of me. If Gabriel could just give me a lead on where they were headed....

“Yes,” he responded with the easiest simplicity and at the same time the deepest gravity.

“And....?” I fought against the urge to stomp my foot impatiently.

“I do not like your parents,” he said candidly; his comment took me by surprise. “I feel that they have played the cowards, that their absence has been too long and that their return is much too slow and calculated.”

I locked my teeth together, biting my bottom lip as if to forbid it from moving. My fingers dug deeply into the flesh of my crossed arms, reminding myself that I needed this man, and that he offered another link in the armor that had to be created if I were to get to the rest of those that needed rescuing. But, who did he think he was?

His eyes flickered and flashed from bright to dull, from burnt to vivid, in moments as if they actually were on fire, as if they glowed and burned like a real flame. He was watching me, gauging my reaction, taking in my careful smile and deciding what he would do with me. I fought against every innate urge that I possessed to open my reckless mouth and give him more than he for.

“Do you know her parents?” Jericho stepped forward, walking purposely to my side and speaking for the first time to Gabriel. “Do you know them enough to accuse them like this?”

“I know them well enough,” Gabriel replied, quieting his voice and relaxing his shoulders, “I knew Amory better,” his gaze became distant for just the smallest of seconds, a brief moment of silence offered to the dead in reverence and respect. “The point is, I am convinced that you are right, that your cause is just and necessary. But you have not come to ask the priest his moral theories on the obligation for every Immortal to stand for justice. You, as well as your parents, are asking if I will personally join this war. If I will fight hand to hand against this king that wishes you dead. That requires a different sort of man than one chosen for the cloth. So, my answer was and is 'no'”

“Maybe an ordinary man of the cloth, but Gabriel you are anything but ordinary,” I said slowly with firm resolve and deep seeded sincerity. “And your people are not ordinary. This is an extraordinary calling, for those of us who will not sit idly by as our mothers and fathers, as our children, as our sisters and brothers.... are sacrificed for a king that would see us all murdered for his gain, for his benefit. And as a man of God, you must be the answer against the evil that threatens to snuff out every last innocent life.” I tilted my head, so that my chin jutted forward, daring Gabriel to argue with me.

“Silas said you would not be easy to turn away,” he admitted with eyes narrowed.

“No, you have it wrong. I will not be turned away. I'm asking for your help, but I expect you to give it to me. I expect you to care enough about this kingdom that you cannot possibly have another answer for me.”

“You are right about that, child. I do care about this kingdom.... All right, I will help you. I will travel this road with you, wherever it leads,” he declared finally and I had to clear my throat quickly to banish the emotional excitement I felt building inside of me.

“Thank you,” I offered genuinely and could not stop myself from breaking into a smile.

I walked forward, reaching out my hand and shaking his firmly. His aggressive magic jolted against my hand as soon as our flesh met. I knew I had not made a mistake in coming here, he was exactly what we needed.

“You might have to learn to like my parents though,” I said playfully. “They are next on our list of recruits. Do you know where they were headed by the way? I want to meet up with them to.... I need to meet up with them before we leave South America.”

“I don't know where they were headed. They are easily lost and not easily found, a trick that has kept them alive through all of this time,” he observed with an air of amusement in his voice that hinted at an attachment to them and I couldn't help but wonder if he really disliked them as much as he claimed to.

“What do you think, Jericho? What's our next move?” I turned to him, looking up into his eyes, hoping he had a Plan B stashed somewhere up in his alpha male brain.

“That depends. Do you want to continue to pursue your parents or try to hook up with Titus and those guys?” Jericho sat down on one of the unstable and small wooden benches, pressing his palms together and chewing on his bottom lip. Too big for the tiny bench, his knees were bent at awkward angles. The wobbly bench jerked unstably beneath him, knocking his hair from careful placement and across his dark eyebrow.

“I don't know!” I shrieked in frustration. “My gut feeling is to get to Paris before those guys move on, and that connecting with them should be our first priority before we continue, but I will hate myself if I miss the opportunity to get to my parents. I know they are a vital part of this mission and without them, I feel like everything is only.... half done.... At the same time, do we continue to recruit others or spend our time gathering the scattered rebellion?” I hung my head, moving my arms from crossed defensively in front of me to around my waist, holding myself tightly as if I had to physically keep myself together.

“A warrior must always follow his initial reaction, child; otherwise what good is instinct? What good would you be in battle without those gut feelings?” Gabriel offered from his strong post near the statue of Jesus. He stood in front of the church as if, even now, with just the three of us, he was preaching a well-prepared sermon. “Your parents intend on finding you as well, so why not serve both of your efforts and allow them to recruit while you gather those you already know will help you fight?”

“How do you know they will try to find me?” I asked skeptically, letting the logic in his plan sink in while still reluctant to agree to something so simple.

“Because that is what they told me,” Gabriel replied with casual resoluteness I struggled to grow used to.

“They told you they wanted to find me?” I narrowed my eyes at him again, wondering when I would ever be able to take him seriously.

“Essentially, they told me they wanted me to join them so I could help them help you,” he shrugged his shoulders and the dimple in his cheek reappeared.

“Oh,” I said simply.

“So? We should go,” Gabriel left the room without warning.

I turned to Jericho, bewildered by this man, “Did he say 'we?'”

“Yes, I think he did,” Jericho was as confused as I was.

We stayed in silence, watching the shadowed door that led beyond the sanctuary, wondering if we were waiting for Gabriel or if that had been our dismissal. I turned toward the exit and then back again toward the door Gabriel disappeared through, and then once again toward Jericho and then back again toward the full statue of Jesus.

“I think he's planning on coming with us,” Jericho mumbled, even more surprised than I was.

“Good,” I said confidently, staring at Gabriel who just reappeared in the sanctuary. He was still wearing his priest outfit, but had added a pair of darkly tinted, aviator sunglasses and a brown, leather messenger bag slung across his chest.

“Ready?” he asked, somehow looking less like a priest and more like a hit man, despite his attire.

“What about Silas? Maybe I should go back for him,” I worried about how primitive and underdeveloped my plan was. I didn't actually have a fully realized agenda, it was more like a plan to just get as many people to say yes, and then find my parents and then.... what? Was I really planning on making this trip around the world twice, the first time to get a commitment, the second time to tell them I was ready....?

“Why?” Gabriel asked.