Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

Noa opened her eyes and jumped to her feet. Her breathing was erratic, and her chest felt as though a crater had been carved into the flesh. She shook her head, expelling the unwanted feelings from her body. As they had been so many times before, the cracks that had managed to fissure inside her were covered with granite and stopped dead in their tracks. Noa turned to the door, but as she did, she felt wetness on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to her face.

Tears.

Tears were useless, a pathetic sign of weakness. So Noa straightened her spine, took a deep breath, and wiped those tears dry.

Chapter 11

Noa didn’t notice if it was warm or cold as she fled the housekeeper’s home in the cover of darkness. She had sneaked out, unseen, and trudged over the manor’s vast grounds. She passed perfectly manicured gardens, greenhouses filled with roses, masses of trees, and private, secluded groves until she finally saw the man-made lake Diel had told her about. Flutters invaded her chest as her eyes landed on a fairytale building just beyond it.

The folly.

Noa smirked. Diel had chosen a building suitable for weddings and romance and the confessing of true love for their confrontation. But all they would be bringing was violence and pain and the facing of their inner demons.

Noa’s long pink hair blew around her face, creating a momentary veil. She had left it free from the braid tonight. She wore top-to-toe leather and clutched Gabriel’s stolen remote in her hand. It felt like fire in her palm, but its freedom flooded into her veins.

She could almost taste it, the indescribable sensation that came from such freedom. The sense of liberation she’d felt when she pushed her knife into the heart of a Brethren priest who had hurt her as a child. Watching the life drain from his eyes, pulling her scarf from her face so he could see exactly who had come to send him to hell.

The lake rippled as she walked along its perimeter. The full moon reflected off its black surface, and a fountain lay dormant in the center. The statue looked like a stone mermaid holding a man in her hand—a lover, perhaps? Noa stopped when the image became clear, and the smirk she had been wearing spread into a wide smile. No, it wasn’t a mermaid holding a lover, but a fang-toothed siren with long wavy locks and bare breasts dragging a screaming, terrified sailor to the sea’s watery depths—it was more than apt. Whoever had built this manor Noa now had much admiration for. She idly wondered if it was the man in the painting in Gabriel’s office. She recalled his eyes; there was a darkness lurking in their depths.

The sight of that savage siren only bolstered her mood. Her feet quickened on the manicured grass beneath her heavy black boots. In minutes she arrived at the folly’s entrance. It was made of gray stone and was swathed in green ivy. The folly had two circular turrets on either side and an imposing wooden door. There were gargoyles on the ledges, and intricate sculptures of flowers carved into bricks here and there.

Noa reached for the doorknob, and it turned under her hand. Either Diel was already here or he had opened the building earlier that day in preparation for their meeting tonight.

Noa slipped inside and descended the stairs before her. Lights had been lit, and she squared her shoulders as she stepped into the main body of the building. The folly wasn’t big, and Noa could see every part of it. As Diel had said, it had been fashioned into a training ring of sorts. Both dummy and real weapons hung on the wall. But despite the training additions to the old building, some of the original features still remained. The large hearth on the main wall raged with flames.

They danced before Noa’s eyes as she took calming breaths, her body prepped and primed for the fight that was about to commence. The impressive heat kissed the skin on her face, and the smoke began to sink into the strands of her hair. Noa closed her eyes and took a deep inhale. On her third exhale, she heard the door to the folly open behind her, and she smiled.

He was here.

Noa turned and stood dead center in the room, chin high, waiting for Diel to walk through. She slid the keys into a hidden pocket … then Diel appeared at the entrance. It felt as though he filled up the entire alcove.

Noa’s heart fired into a sprint and her lungs sucked in extra air at the sight of him. He was dressed in dark jeans and boots, and nothing else. His chest was bare but for his Fallen brand, his mass of scars and his collar. His dark hair was mussed, and random locks fell across his forehead, failing to conceal the bright blue eyes that had immediately captured Noa in their trap.