Flesh Wounds
Part Sixteen
Giles glanced up as Athena entered, and she gave him a slight smile. He grinned back, and handed her a book; they settled back into research.
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"A-ha! Found it!" Athena declared in triumph a few minutes later. "'I am Cerer, son of Deka, sister to Akri, and grandson of Coba, emperor of the Babylonian Empire'."
"The one that built the Gardens of Babylon?" Giles asked.
"Actually, that was Cerer's grandson. But, anyway…whoa, listen to this…'He has been banished, his evil magic stopped, but only for a time. He will be released again, when, we do not know, but it will happen. My grandfather has the secret to his destruction, but deems not to share it, for the safety of our family. We are simply told to keep the documents safe, for they will be needed again. So, they will pass through my family, from first-born to first-born, for the time when they are needed again.'"
"Trusting chap," Giles murmured. "So that's what those papers are?"
"Seems so. But how did Cornwall get them?"
"'Perath was the last descendant of Cerer'," Xander read aloud from the book in his hands.
"What book is that?"
"Cornwall's journal."
"I am such an idiot," the girl murmured. "Why didn't I think to look there?"
"Blond tendencies?" The teen asked cheekily, and received yet another smack on his head.
"Keep reading, Harris."
"Yes, ma'am. 'Not long after I discovered him in Jerusalem, he entrusted me with his family's secret. The pages he had, he said, were the story of his great-grandfather, and included the spell of banishment and destruction. Upon arriving back in England, I demanded a special hilt be made, one that could hold this precious parchment. The Princess has left, and now we are falling under the affliction, fighting a war against an invisible enemy. The corpses are piling up, burned because there are not enough gravediggers. This will be lost from all history, our king declares, and be told that we were fighting the Saxons. The priests have had their hand in this, I can tell. Perath…was the first to fall…tomorrow I depart for the witches of Gloucester. Mayhap they can stop this madness.' That's all."
Athena suddenly cursed. "This is too easy…there's something I'm missing."
"The parchments…go speak to Gabriel," Giles said. "Help him translate them."
"There's something about Akri…" Sighing, the girl slung on her jacket. "Be back."
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"Got anything?"
Gabriel did not turn around. "Nope. You?"
"Perath was a descendant of Coba. These papers hold what we're looking for. But something's bothering me about Akri…" The girl pulled up a chair, and he gently rubbed the back of her neck. "Gabe?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Can we not worry about this for a little while, and you could just hold me?"
It was amazing, he mused absently as she curled into his arm, how the ache inside of him eased just by holding her, or touching her. Tilting her head up, he gently brushed her lips with his, then deepened the kiss as her fingers curled into his dark hair. For an eternity, they explored the subtle tastes of the other, and it was only when Gabriel's brain was screaming for oxygen did he break away.
Gently stroking her cheek, he raised his eyebrows at her, and she moved so she was straddling his thighs. Letting his head back so he could look at her, he linked his arms around her waist and smiled. "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah," she replied quietly, resting her forehead against his. "Do you know I love you?"
His brows rose higher. "Do you?" He asked carefully.
"More than I've ever loved anyone else," she replied truthfully. "More than I even knew was possible."
He fisted a hand in her long hair, bringing her mouth to his. His other fingers began to inch under her shirt, and she arched toward the light touch. As her lips left his, he moved his kisses down her throat, feasting on the sensitive flesh, gently pulling her head farther back to expose more skin.
She felt herself slipping under his control, and tensed up. He sensed her feelings, and stopped, leaning back and breathing hard. Her questioning gaze found his, and he shook his head. "Tell me."
"I love you, Gabriel Bowman," she whispered.
"I know. Tell me what you want to happen. You wish is my command." With those simple words, he assured her fears.
"How did you…?"
"I know you." Gazing into her eyes, he added, "I may know what weakens your knees, but you know what captures my soul."
A soft smile traveled over her lips, and he tenderly kissed each corner of her mouth. "Well, my lady, this could be our last night on Earth."
"No. I'll stop this. But since you're being so helpful…remember those silk sheets you told me about?"
"Oh, yes."
"I think a close-up inspection is in order."
He grinned, slowly standing. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he caught her thighs to keep her from falling. Laughing, they made their way into the bedroom, landing in a heap on his bed. Clothes were tossed haphazardly around the room; lips and fingertips explored smooth skin. Teeth softly bit, nails dug in; sweat-slicked bodies slid against each other.
Gabriel looked down at Athena as they were joined, hands linked. Suddenly, he felt heated metal slithering over his wrist; they both looked to see the Witchblade binding their hands together as one. "Has that ever happened before?" He asked.
"Um, no," she replied. He glanced down to see a long line of her neck exposed; overtaken by a sudden urge, he bit the jugular hard enough to bruise. A sharp hiss escaped her; her nails dug into his shoulderblade. Then they were moving together. Overwhelmed by a dark fire, bound by bonds of physical and metaphysical material, they became one being, inseparable.
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Gabriel glanced down to his still bound hand. "How long will this last?" He asked quietly, running the fingers of his other hand through Athena's tangled hair.
"Don't know," she replied sleepily. "Ever since I saw you again, it's been doing all sorts of stuff for the first time."
"Let's say that's a good thing, okay?"
"Okay." The girl studied her bracelet, then suddenly sat up. "Oh, no."
"What?"
"Akri was destined to be a Wielder."
"Who was in Cornwall's time?"
"His daughter was married to Perath…his granddaughter, then. She was killed in a Saxon raid…or so I was told by the priests."
Their eyes met as the Witchblade retreated from Gabriel's wrist. "Sara," they said in unison.
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Sara Pezzini jerked awake, looking wildly around her apartment. Breathing a bit easier when she saw nothing there, she lay down again and caught sight of the flashing red jewel in her bracelet. "Oh, shut up and go to sleep," she told it. "There's…nothing there…"
Something bit the back of her neck, and she slapped at it, pulling her fingers away to see blood. "Oh, fuck."
