“Cousin,” Rory whispered, tagging Nolan’s elbow. He glanced toward Chelle, who had seated herself on the flat top of an old gravestone. Her shoulders and back heaved and shook. “Ye know yer the only one who can calm her.”
Nolan took a deep breath, his arm taut around Gabby. “Rory … stay with Chelle for just a little while and I’ll be there when—”
Gabby pressed her palm flat against Nolan’s chest. “Go. It’s all right.”
Nolan would return to her side in a few minutes. Grayson would never return to Chelle’s.
He kissed her forehead and ceded Gabby’s arm to Rory. “Don’t get into trouble.”
He walked across the grass, between the scattered gravestones, toward Chelle. Gabby was grateful for Rory’s muscular arm. There weren’t many people here to say their goodbyes to Grayson, but those who were had proven their loyalty to one another.
“Are you going back to London?” Gabby asked, keeping her voice low.
Rory’s bicep flexed underneath his black suit jacket. “Aye, laoch.”
“I’m sure Carver will be thrilled to see you again,” she said, remembering Hugh’s gargoyle.
Rory smiled, confirming Gabby’s speculation with his usual poise.
“Hugh’ll have a time of it tryin’ to keep Hathaway and the rest of the Directorate off his scent,” Rory added, switching tracks.
In the craze and chaos following the battle in the Champs de Mars, the Daicrypta doyen, with Rory’s help and a few gargoyles as well, had transported Axia’s netted and incapacitated body to the abandoned Montmartre mansion owned by his father. He’d hooked Axia up to the ancient draining machinery housed in the little outbuilding behind the courtyard and drained every last drop of her blood. Had they allowed the Alliance to drag her body away, Hathaway would have had the same thing done, most likely on the machine Nolan and Vander had been building at H?tel Bastian. Gabby didn’t know what Hugh had done with the blood, but she trusted him. Whatever his plans, he had no designs against the Dispossessed, as Hathaway did.
According to Rory, Hugh had given Axia’s desiccated remains to the horde of gargoyles waiting in the Daicrypta courtyard. The gargoyles had disposed of her, and with relish.
Hans and Hathaway had suspected Rory’s deceit, but with no evidence, what could they do? They certainly couldn’t charge him with treason, the way they’d threatened Nolan. Of course, the angelic net had worked, and there was no doubt that Nolan’s actions had only helped bring Axia and her Harvest to an end. There would be no trial against him in Rome. When he’d told Gabby the news, she’d dissolved into new tears. Better tears. And they had felt good.
“I’m going to miss you,” Gabby said, squeezing Rory’s arm.
“Ah, laoch, I dinna think ye’ll be missin’ me long.”
She released his arm and peered up at him. “Why do you say that?”
“Quinns have a way of stayin’ close.”
Gabby stepped away. “But I’m not a Quinn.”
A little smile lifted the corner of Rory’s lips. “I suspect Nolan’ll take care of that in time.”
Gabby, flushed and speechless, let her mouth hang open as Rory bowed and walked away. She didn’t have a moment to think about what Rory had said before a hand settled on her waist. Nolan’s forearm braced her back as he returned her to his side.
“What’s my cousin smirking about?” he asked, looking after Rory. And then, upon seeing Gabby’s shocked expression, added, “What did he say to you?”
Oh no. She wasn’t about to divulge that. Gabby straightened her posture and searched for Chelle. Vander was leading her away, toward the abbey.
“Will she be all right?” she asked.
Nolan reached for the collar of Gabby’s cape and drew the panels tighter together for her. “We’re talking about Chelle.”
“But she loved him,” Gabby said, and then realized something. There were words—significant words—she hadn’t yet said. Gabby lifted her gloved hand and caressed Nolan’s freshly shaven cheek. “I love you.”
He stared, gone still at her confession. He had to have already known, but he looked as if she’d just told him the location of the Holy Grail. Or, on second thought, he stared at her the way he had in London, in her room, when he’d confessed that he wouldn’t leave her side.
“Gabriella,” he whispered. If they had not been where they were, surrounded by sadness and gravestones, she knew he would have swept her up into one of his kisses. The ones she dreamed about at night. Instead, Nolan took a long breath and started walking her slowly back toward the rectory.
“Your oaths ceremony will be in Rome,” he said softly. “As soon as you think we should leave.”
Hathaway hadn’t been able to save his precious angel blood from underneath Yann—who had ultimately suffered the same fate as Axia—but the Directorate representative had witnessed Gabby’s bravery and acknowledged her hand in capturing Axia. Though without genuine excitement in the request, Hathaway had asked her to Rome.
“I don’t think I should leave Mama yet. Or Ingrid,” she answered.