Page 2 of Touched By Destiny
Clark leaned forward, and his blue gaze locked on Gabriel’s face. “You understand now that Samael was a persecutor and not the hunted?”
“I learned it by accident,” Gabriel confirmed, barely above a husky whisper. “That boy. The one who died. His parents forced their way into the mansion. They begged me to listen. I didn’t want to. Their child is destiny-touched.Wasdestiny-touched. Samael dedicated his life to hunting those granted special gifts and killing them. I thought he was protecting necromancers, but I was wrong.”
“I can’t tell you how many necromancers live,” Clark remarked. “We purposely refrain from being organized. The last thing we want is to bring attention to ourselves. We’ve thrived because humans believe we’re just like them. Little do they know that sorcerers and inspirits live among them. Some necromancers are born with a skull mark on their left hand. They are among the most gifted of us. My mother was one of the few. Rosalind’s father was another.”
“Unfortunately, few of them survive,” Rosalind added. “Our people fear them. Necromancers like Samael believe the destiny-touched will reveal us to humans. Tales are told of us being used for science or murdereden masse. Samael and his ilk will go to whatever lengths necessary to rid the world of the destiny-touched.”
“So, what? You’re pissed that I tried to save one? That my interference nearly allowed one to survive another day, putting your precious existence and way of life in danger?”
Rosalind shook her head vigorously. “No, you misunderstand. We abhor people like Samael. Our parents are dead. Both of us were raised by uninterested, distant family members because someone like Samael hunted the ones who gave us life. It’s said that the destiny-touched occur more often in certain families.”
“Rosalind and I met a century ago, but we fear having children of our own. I couldn’t bear it if I were one of the lucky parents to have a destiny-touched child and someone like Samael murdered them.”
“But you’re a protector, Gabriel,” Rosalind insisted. “We want your help. As an inspirit, you were granted life and know what a gift it is. We have used our wealth and advantages to carefor our inspirits, but what we need is a defender. Someone we can count on to see to the security of our future children.”
“I’m going to jail,” Gabriel sputtered.
“I have a team of lawyers who will ensure that doesn’t happen,” Clark replied.
“The cops know I killed him.”
“You flung yourself in front of the child and took a bullet meant for him,” Rosalind said. Gabriel had no clue how these Marwoods knew so much, but she was right.
“And I shot Samael.”
“In self-defense,” Clark asserted.
“The humans refuse to believe I acted alone.”
“Your bullet hit him directly in the heart, despite the fact that you were heading to the ground as you fired,” Clark stated. “Did Samael give you that gift? To never miss?”
Gabriel nodded. “No matter what I do, my aim never falters. I didn’t even realize I was being groomed…slowly programmed to do whatever Samael told me.”
“Samael Wolfebrier lived a long time and went through many aliases. He was a prolific necromancer, and many inspirits died along the way. It was easy enough for him to sacrifice whoever he resurrected to protect his own hide. Samael was a sniveling, horrible coward, and the world is better off without him.”
“Until a few days ago, I loved him as family,” Gabriel replied, his lips trembling as he fought off the desire to cry. For all the evil Gabriel hadn’t understood lived in Samael’s dark heart, he’d been his closest friend and confidante.
“I’m sorry he deceived you,” Rosalind said quietly. “And I understand you mourn him. The man you thought you knew.”
Gabriel closed his eyes, and a parade of the dead he’d helped bury trampled through his mind. “How many destiny-touched are dead because of him?”
“To know the number wouldn’t serve you now. He’s dead and no longer able to hunt.”
“Tell me how many he’s killed since my resurrection,” Gabriel insisted. Were there more than the ones Gabriel had helped bury? How staggering was the number of people Samael had murdered in his lifetime? And the biggest question, how would Gabriel ever set aside his own guilt about how he’d aided a serial killer?
“No,” Rosalind said. “You are innocent like they were. That is all you need to know. If you want to avenge the boy, I beg of you to consider our offer. We will ensure you need for nothing and get whatever training you desire. Like Samael, we’d love for you to be part of our family, to help protect us and aid us in whatever the future brings.”
“You’ve created this idea of me as a guardian of sorts. I don’t know if I can be that man.”
“Gabriel, you can be anything you want,” Rosalind countered. “You will carry the scars of that day both physically and mentally for however long your lifespan lasts. It’s up to you to decide if you want to dwell on what Samael hid from you, or if you want to stand in defiance of everything he stood for. There are destiny-touched necromancers still living and those not yet born. What I’m asking is if you’ll protect them from the Samaels of the world.”
“You don’t fear them?” Gabriel asked belligerently. “Isn’t there a part of you that would sacrifice whatever necessary to keep your existence hidden from humans? You’ve probably moved and changed your name countless times to keep everyone from learning you’re immortal. After you’ve gone to such lengths to protect yourself, wouldn’t you, too, remove anything that could rob you of everything you’ve worked for?”
Clark smiled. “I’m over a thousand years old. I’ve gone through so many aliases I’ve forgotten some along the way, andyes, I move every couple of decades so no one figures out I’m not aging. Like many ancient necromancers, I’ve built wealth. It’s easy to call myself something new and move to a different house. Rosalind and I love a good adventure, but our magic isn’t vast. We don’t have any inspirits as strong as you. As for the destiny-touched, they offer us no danger. They are feared because they’re different. Freaks. Outcasts. Misunderstood. From what little we’ve learned of them, they rarely make it to adulthood, so we don’t even fully understand what they’re capable of. We want to know everything about them. They are part of our race, and because we must hide, we lose so much to history. Like the inspirits granted life by necromancers, it’s our job to protect our heritage—not destroy it.”
Gabriel wasn’t sure if it was the medications taking the edge off his pain or if he was losing his mind, but Clark and Rosalind sounded sincere. And protecting the destiny-touched might somehow allow Gabriel to pay back the necromancers for the fifteen years he’d blithely trusted Samael. Gabriel had had his head in the clouds while the murderous bastard had ended the lives of countless necromancers because Samael was a scared, evil fuck. And Gabriel had been his goon—ready and willing to help him hide his crimes. Clark and Rosalind wanted to believe Gabriel was virtuous, but nothing could be further from the truth.
“Are you sure you can get me out of a prison sentence?”