The Fallen 03 - Warrior by Kristina Douglas Read Free Book Online

up the sleeves, as if even a so-called wedding required hard work. I looked at his strong forearms, and for the first time I noticed tattoos snaking their way up beneath the white cloth. The shirt was loose at the neck as well, and there were more markings on his chest, his throat, twining around to the back of his head, markings I hadn’t seen before. I halted, momentarily fascinated, and then Allie caught my arm and gently urged me forward.
    Did they expect me to love, honor, and obey? I thought dizzily. And weren’t they Old Testament angels—shouldn’t there be a chuppah or something, a glass of wine to smash?
    Allie took my hand and placed it in Michael’s outstretched one, and his long fingers tightened around mine before I could pull it back. His skin was cold. There were tattoos on the back of his hand, and now that I was closer I could see them clearly. Symbols from every culture imaginable—Celtic knots, Native American glyphs, Asian kanji, Arabic calligraphy. They circled his hand and arm, disappearing into the sleeve like a serpent, and I had the sudden odd feeling that the line of markings could move, could slide along his skin onto mine, marking me as his.
    There was no escape. Raziel moved in front of us and spoke in a language I had never heard, a beautiful, silvery sound that made my skin tingle. Allie had left me, and suddenly I felt abandoned, until thewoman named Rachel took her place, clasping my other hand in her strong, calm one, soothing me.
    My mind drifted in the bright sunlight. This was too strange, too bizarre to take in, and I let the words flow over me, dazed, until the sound of Michael’s deep, rich voice startled me into paying attention again. He spoke in the same language Raziel had, and then Michael turned to me. If there was mercy in his dark eyes, I couldn’t see it.
    “You have a choice,” he said. “You can stay with us, help us fight. We are at war with a force so evil that if we lose, the world will be destroyed. If that happens, you will die anyway. If you go back now, you may manage to survive the rage of the woman who raised you, but that is unlikely, as your twenty-fifth birthday approaches. But it is your choice. Do you choose to stay here, to become my bonded mate, or do you wish to return to your old life?”
    It really was no choice. Even if death didn’t await me there, the thought of being locked in that room for even an hour longer sent horror through me. Here was sunshine, and other women, and freedom such as I’d never known.
    “I choose you,” I said, meeting his cool, enigmatic gaze.
    “Then let it be done,” he murmured.

CHAPTER
SIX
     
    T HEN LET IT BE DONE,” HE’D SAID. I’d spoken no vows other than my agreement, and there’d been no exchange of rings. Was that the equivalent of “I now pronounce you man and wife”?
    Apparently not. Allie moved forward between us and pushed her flowing sleeve up past her elbow, exposing a pale arm and blue-veined wrist. Michael took her arm in both hands, then glanced up at me out of his dark, implacable eyes. “Should she not hold on to the Source as well?”
    Rachel moved up beside me. “Put your hand on Allie’s arm, Tory,” she said, soft but determined.
    What the hell was going on? I tried to back away, suddenly more uneasy than I had been since Michael had appeared in my life—and given the craziness of the last day, that was impressive.
    “No.” A woman I hadn’t met spoke up from thegroup of people surrounding us. I was vaguely aware of a young woman in her thirties, a troubled expression on her face. “That’s not the way I saw it. I don’t think—”
    “Martha, let be,” Michael said, his rich voice an incompatible mix of kindness and irritation. “If there is more we need to do, we can address that later.”
    “But—”
    “Later, Martha.” Raziel’s voice finished the conversation, and the woman subsided reluctantly. Martha . I remembered the name from the chatter of the women.