hers and peered down at her in earnest. “You must listen carefully, Anne. Your fate lies with one of my men. You are bound to him. It was written in the heavens long before any of us touched this earth. There is a mark upon your body, a scar, a birthmark, perhaps even art. Something unique, that in its shape, its creation, or its meaning holds significance. It matches one of the men’s, and he who bears the identical symbol is your intended mate.”
She shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
Mikhail didn’t flinch. “Deadly.”
“You really mean this nonsense? I’m some descendant of an angel? I’m supposed to give up my life and hide underground with a man I’ve never met?” She let out a soft snort. “I don’t think so.”
As if her remark didn’t warrant a response, Mikhail turned his attention to Merrick. “By Gabriel’s, and thus the Almighty’s, order, you will help pair her. Until her intended is found, you will protect her. She is your charge, Merrick. I expect you to devote yourself to her safekeeping. Now give her your oath.”
Anne spluttered as Merrick dropped to one knee. He bowed his head and tossed his sword carelessly in front of him, the clang as harsh as his expression. If body language said anything, the man was seriously pissed. She couldn’t blame him. Stuck with arrogant Merrick? What had she done to deserve misery?
“Merrick du Loire.” His tight-lipped response sounded more like a snarl.
She was half tempted to let him retrieve his sword on his own, just to see how long he would sit there on a bended knee. When several seconds passed and she hadn’t moved, he tipped his head up. His eyes spoke silent fury. That telltale twitch tugged at the side of his jaw, and he clenched his teeth so hard his lips turned into a tight, cruel line.
“Fine,” she muttered. Bending over, she picked up his sword and thrust it toward him. He snatched it out of her hands, jumped to his feet, and stuffed it into the metal scabbard that dangled from his waist.
“What is the meaning of this, Mikhail?” Merrick demanded. “She is a woman. Not strong, not a fighter. How can she help us?”
Anne stiffened at Merrick’s condescending remark. No wonder he hadn’t hesitated to carry her like a sack of potatoes and gave little thought to what she wanted. His brain was still firmly rooted in the twelfth century. Good God. She was supposed to stay with him until this supposed predestined husband was found? She wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to protest, but Mikhail didn’t give her the opportunity.
One coppery eyebrow arched, and a rueful smile spread across Mikhail’s face. “You cannot mean to tell me you’ve forgotten the prophecy, Merrick. She carries the light that will balance one knight’s tainted soul. She is a seraph.”
Anne almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of Mikhail’s statement. Ludicrous. Light in her? Someone evidently neglected to tell Mikhail she’d had a little too much fun in college. So much so, she had almost flunked her freshman year. It had taken five more to graduate. Her parents’ death the following year finally pushed her into responsibility, but it had still taken another three years to get her master’s, and then another two for her doctoral thesis. By now, she’d settled down. She might look light and innocent, but there was far more darkness in her soul than she cared to admit.
The way Merrick’s face drained of color and his mouth parted suffocated her humor. Whatever Mikhail meant by those cryptic words, Merrick took seriously. Too seriously for her liking. Fighting down a sickening sense of foreboding, she asked, “Balance?”
Mikhail nodded. “You will keep someone alive, Anne. Now go, and discover who it is.”
Keep someone alive? He had to be kidding. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility. She killed plants for God’s sake. Gabe had made a mistake. A terrible, awful mistake. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.
She shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”
Mikhail didn’t flinch. “Deadly.”
“You really mean this nonsense? I’m some descendant of an angel? I’m supposed to give up my life and hide underground with a man I’ve never met?” She let out a soft snort. “I don’t think so.”
As if her remark didn’t warrant a response, Mikhail turned his attention to Merrick. “By Gabriel’s, and thus the Almighty’s, order, you will help pair her. Until her intended is found, you will protect her. She is your charge, Merrick. I expect you to devote yourself to her safekeeping. Now give her your oath.”
Anne spluttered as Merrick dropped to one knee. He bowed his head and tossed his sword carelessly in front of him, the clang as harsh as his expression. If body language said anything, the man was seriously pissed. She couldn’t blame him. Stuck with arrogant Merrick? What had she done to deserve misery?
“Merrick du Loire.” His tight-lipped response sounded more like a snarl.
She was half tempted to let him retrieve his sword on his own, just to see how long he would sit there on a bended knee. When several seconds passed and she hadn’t moved, he tipped his head up. His eyes spoke silent fury. That telltale twitch tugged at the side of his jaw, and he clenched his teeth so hard his lips turned into a tight, cruel line.
“Fine,” she muttered. Bending over, she picked up his sword and thrust it toward him. He snatched it out of her hands, jumped to his feet, and stuffed it into the metal scabbard that dangled from his waist.
“What is the meaning of this, Mikhail?” Merrick demanded. “She is a woman. Not strong, not a fighter. How can she help us?”
Anne stiffened at Merrick’s condescending remark. No wonder he hadn’t hesitated to carry her like a sack of potatoes and gave little thought to what she wanted. His brain was still firmly rooted in the twelfth century. Good God. She was supposed to stay with him until this supposed predestined husband was found? She wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to protest, but Mikhail didn’t give her the opportunity.
One coppery eyebrow arched, and a rueful smile spread across Mikhail’s face. “You cannot mean to tell me you’ve forgotten the prophecy, Merrick. She carries the light that will balance one knight’s tainted soul. She is a seraph.”
Anne almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of Mikhail’s statement. Ludicrous. Light in her? Someone evidently neglected to tell Mikhail she’d had a little too much fun in college. So much so, she had almost flunked her freshman year. It had taken five more to graduate. Her parents’ death the following year finally pushed her into responsibility, but it had still taken another three years to get her master’s, and then another two for her doctoral thesis. By now, she’d settled down. She might look light and innocent, but there was far more darkness in her soul than she cared to admit.
The way Merrick’s face drained of color and his mouth parted suffocated her humor. Whatever Mikhail meant by those cryptic words, Merrick took seriously. Too seriously for her liking. Fighting down a sickening sense of foreboding, she asked, “Balance?”
Mikhail nodded. “You will keep someone alive, Anne. Now go, and discover who it is.”
Keep someone alive? He had to be kidding. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility. She killed plants for God’s sake. Gabe had made a mistake. A terrible, awful mistake. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.
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