A celestial quill. Salvation indeed.
Andre hadn’t even known one to exist anymore. Truth be told, he’d thought such things were myths. Even his soulmate’s letter couldn’t convince him otherwise. Hope, after all, was a dangerous thing.
“This is Gabrielle’s?”
Jericho inclined his head. “Nona and her mother paid a great price to procure this for her some time ago. It’s been hers ever since.”
“Tell me how a quill like this works,” Andre said.
“Simple. All it takes is ink, a piece of paper, and a heart’s desire. It’s not how the quill works that’s at issue. It’s keeping the existence of it a secret that will be difficult. Creatures of both heaven and hell would rebel if they knew she owned such an object.”
Andre rubbed his lower lip. “Why is that?”
“The queen of the damned requesting a favor of God?” Jericho gave a husky laugh. “The possibilities could be catastrophic for either side, depending on the request.”
“But you’re not worried,” Andre stated, watching the messenger carefully.
“It is not my place to cast worry,” he said. “But She isn’t, and that’s good enough for me.”
“Why can’t God just hear Gabrielle’s complaint without use of the quill?” This method of requesting God’s favor seemed uncomfortably close to buying indulgences, those papers that granted absolution.
Jericho began packing the feather and its glass case into a duffle bag. “God works in mysterious ways.”
“That is not an answer, old man.”
“It was a kind reminder that you are out of place to question Her motivations,” he said as he worked.
“You cannot scare me into complacency. Why?”
Jericho stopped packing to meet Andre’s gaze. The two stared at each other for a long minute. Then the withered edges of Jericho’s face crinkled into a smile and a wheezy chuckle. “God wants all Her loyal followers to respect the decision. Angels and other celestial beings will not question the validity of a plea made with this quill.”
Men of peace and their regulations. Andre felt an odd sense of camaraderie with hell. They handled things by right of might.
“And God will listen?” Andre asked.
“She is already doing so.”
Andre folded his arms. “Then why are angels attacking my mate?”
“Because it takes masterful trickery to outmaneuver the devil, and God is well aware of this.”
That could mean that angels were in on heaven’s plans, but more likely, it meant that God was going rogue on this one, and only a select few, like Jericho and now Andre, were aware of it. Either way, they’d continue to attack Gabrielle.
This conversation was not helping Andre’s black mood.
Jericho zipped up the packed duffle and handed it to Andre. Before the messenger let it go, he said, “A word of advice: Gabrielle should not use this until the time is right, and you should not make it known to her that you have possession of it. Otherwise, she’ll be the devil’s. Forever.”
Chapter 16
Andre
Sunrise was less than an hour away when Andre returned to Bishopcourt and hid the celestial quill. Once he’d done so, he strode down the hall, ignoring the vampires that approached him.
He headed to the guestroom where Leanne was staying and flipped on the room’s dim lights. He stalked inside.
“Mine eyes,” Oliver said, blinking past the glare. The seer groaned next to him.
Sharing one room, one bed, when they’d been given two. Was this how modern men and women interacted?
“You better be looking for some late night nookie,” Oliver said, “or else—”
Andre interrupted the fairy. “One does not command me in my own home.”
“Andre?” Leanne’s head popped out of the comforter.
She, too, fell silent as she took him in. Gabrielle’s blood still stained his clothing and he was sure a bit of madness twinkled at the back of his eyes. Now was not a time to piss him off.
“What’s up?” She gathered the comforter to her chest.
“If you want my continued protection,” Andre said, “you will take me with you tomorrow when you retrieve, Gabrielle.”
Oliver eyed him up and down. “Much as I would enjoy that, she’s an earlier riser than you.”
“I don’t fucking care. You either do this, or be at the mercy of the Politia.”
Things were going to happen a little differently from now on.
Gabrielle
A finger traced my lips.
I blinked my eyes open. Pluto sat on the edge of the bed I laid on, watching me intensely. My pulse jackknifed at his nearness.
“Home early, I see,” he said.
I sat up, my mind jogging back. I didn’t remember the return trip, not like yesterday.
I let out a squeak when I realized all I wore was a see-through teddy and skimpy lingerie beneath it. “Who dressed me?”
“I did.” There was no apology in the devil’s voice.
“You saw me naked?”
A hungry look entered the devil’s eyes. “I did.”
Breathe, Gabrielle. “Did you … ?”