Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) Read Online Free Page B

the time. Maybe I’m your instruction manual.”
    He looked at her hard. It wasn’t out of the realm of the possible that the information he needed was hidden in some sort of sadistic treasure hunt created by the sociopathic goddess who held the title of Death before him.
    “You miss her, don’t you?” Daniela asked.
    “Not the way you think,” he answered, standing. “I’ll see you next time.”
    “You’re welcome,” Daniela said.
    Intent on hunting down his first real lead since things started going wrong, Gabe called open a portal to return to his underworld and the shopping mall-sized palace in the center of the living forest. The palace acted as a barracks for his assassins, who were trudging in after he ordered their contracts all cancelled. They moved out of his way as he strode through the wide hallways to the stairwell leading to the top floor, Death’s floor.
    He stopped in front of the closed door to the massive set of chambers that were supposed to be his. He’d entered twice since assuming his duties. There were too many memories inside, and he hadn’t been able to return. Which past-Death probably knew, meaning any secrets she hid were within.
    “I’m done with you,” he muttered. He opened the door to the rooms he knew as well as his cabin. After all, he spent much time here, making love to her on the round bed down the hallway to his left.
    It was the last place he wanted to visit, so it became the first place he went. Gabe paused as he entered the bedroom. It was bright, the windows open to the soft underworld breeze and curtains fluttering. The room was utterly feminine, from the pale colors to the silk and lace accents and carved furniture. It smelled sweet and spicy, a scent that always reminded him of pecan pie.
    He frowned, noticing for the first time that the bed was unmade. It wasn’t like past-Death to leave something a mess. Not that it mattered. She probably knew it was her last day and decided not to make the bed.
    He stopped in front of a door near the far corner. It bore another note from Fate, written in elegant script on parchment and pinned to the door with a knife. Gabe pried the knife free and tossed it on the bed, reading the message.
     
    Come on in and meet me.
     
    Fate wasn’t going to leave him alone, but this door …
    Gabriel stepped back. He’d been everywhere in the underworld and mortal worlds, but never through this door. His predecessor once told him that if he entered, he’d become like her in every way. He’d loved and hated her his whole life, a beautiful woman with neither mercy nor honor, who viewed mortals and Immortals alike as toys.
    No, Gabriel would never go through that door. The fact Fate wanted him to made him more determined, for past-Death was always in some sort of ugly struggle against Fate.
    Shaking his head, he walked once around the room, trying to determine where she’d hide something he needed. Somewhere he’d never look otherwise. Gabriel went to her jewelry box. Considering she lived for hundreds of millennia and her status as a deity, she didn’t own anything fancy. Her jewelry box was tiny and wooden. It looked ancient, and he opened it carefully. It contained three items: a tarnished ring, a soul and a delicate silver necklace with a compass on the end. He lifted the compass first. Instead of pointing to the four directions, its edges were lined with ancient symbols he took to be writing from the time-before-time. He couldn’t read them.
    Guessing the compass only worked in the mortal world, Gabe emplaced it around his neck before picking up the green emerald – the form a soul took after death – and peering at it. Whoever owned the soul, he or she was important to find their way to Death’s jewelry box. He replaced it and picked up the ring. It was old, silver, and covered with Celtic knots. He’d given it to her hundreds of years ago. She’d rejected him but kept the ring.
    The memories were closing in on him again.