The Gates Read online

  THE GATES

  RACHAEL WADE

  ALSO BY RACHAEL WADE

  Amaranth, The Resistance Trilogy, Book One

  The Tragedy of Knowledge, The Resistance Trilogy, Book Three (Coming Soon)

  Preservation (Coming May 2012)

  PRAISE FOR AMARANTH

  “A beautifully written story about love, sacrifice, and friendship that has a lot of fun twists and turns.”

  -Seeing Night Reviews

  “As wonderful and enchanting as its beautiful cover…”

  -Shadow Kisses Reviews

  “…a new, exciting, and riveting tale of love and loss. The part that really stood out for me was that it is not just about fighting for your love, your soul mate, but it was about redemption of an entire clan so to speak.”

  -Alchemy of Annes Anomalies Reviews

  “...I was hooked from the first chapter. I just wanted to step into the dark, dangerous world of Amaranth.”

  -Fiction Fascination Book Reviews

  “A fantastic journey from beginning to end.”

  -Gothic Angel Book Reviews

  “…far from ‘just another vampire book.’ ”

  -Live to Read Book Reviews

  “Amaranth was in NO way a direction that my mind EVER would have gone. Talk about beautifully written, Rachael built a world that is absolutely stunning!”

  -Taking it One Book at a Time Reviews

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2012 Rachael Wade

  Rabbit Hole Press

  Orlando, Florida

  www.RachaelWade.com

  Cover Design: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Editor: Arlene Robinson

  DEDICATION

  To anyone looking for direction.

  May your passion lead the way to purpose.

  Ever forward.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to:

  Dave, for your tireless support and love.

  Pat, for your spirit.

  Book blogger and reader friends, for your enthusiasm,

  passion, and friendship.

  God, for love overflowing.

  PROLOGUE

  1. GONE WITH THE WIND

  2. MIDNIGHT IN MONTMARTRE

  3. DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

  4. INVINCIBLE

  5. RUSSIAN ROULETTE

  6. SCARLET FEVER

  7. THE BEGINNING OF THINGS TO COME

  8. DISTRACTIONS

  9. SECRETS

  10. CARPE DIEM

  11. BLOOD PRESSURE

  12. GESTURE

  13. TURNING TABLES

  14. OVERFLOW

  15. LACRIMOSA

  16. FIRE

  17. PRIORITIES

  18. WORDS OF WISDOM

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  THE UPRISING

  1890, Amaranth

  Arianna

  “My pure, sweet girl, Arianna. What has he done to you?” Samira, my mother, asked this in a strained voice as she floated down the throne steps toward me; her eyes filled with grief at the sight of my glowing skin. I worked hard to keep my gaze low and my fangs out of sight. Resentment flooded my chest, the anger simmering, and I was furious at her unconcern for my heartbreak, instead concerned with her own agenda to keep me human.

  “My sweet girl. Please, look at me, my child.”

  Determined, I kept my stare lowered to the castle’s cold stone floor, rolled my eyes from left to right, thankful for the lack of servants and the absence of Dali and Akim, her pet wolves, both as evil as she. At least my mother had enough respect to clear the room and keep our matters private.

  I lifted my chin and my gaze locked with hers, meeting her arctic blue eyes with vengeance. “Samira,” my voice fell flat, hoping my address stung her maternal pride, “Joel will come. Now let Marie escort me to the gates for the change. I will wait for him there, and you will do him no harm when he visits.”

  Anguish washed her face.

  “Mother.” I glared at her. “He will come. And you will do him no harm.”

  “Please, Arianna.” She reached out to touch me but I flinched, stepped backward. “Please my child, tell me why. He pressured you to change, did he not?”

  “Joel did no such thing. Why is it so difficult for you to accept that I chose this on my own? I asked him to change me, Mother.” My resentment surfaced, bubbling as it gave way to exasperation. “Don’t waste your breath on false sympathy. I’m not a fool. You are thrilled I’ve returned to live in exile. Thrilled that Joel and I didn’t last. You want me locked away, miserable, because you’re miserable without my father. You’ve been betrayed, and you want to hurt someone like the cold, heartless monster you are—”

  Her red nails swiped my face as she smacked me; her fist tightened as she used her magic to blow me across the room. I pulled myself up to stand and ran a finger across my cheek where blood now oozed, dark and cold, toward my chin. “Now that’s the Samira we all know and love.”

  Her face flushed with shame, her breathing quickened while she gripped her chest with one hand. Reaching out, she twisted her fist in front of her again, her magic holding me in place so she could approach me and take my chin in her hands, gentle this time with her blood-red nails.

  “Contrary to what you believe, I’d never harm the one you love.” A single raspy breath escaped her lips. “Though I shall never trust him in your presence again.” She pulled her head back slightly to assess my eyes, searching, desperate for something. “Your father knows not what he has done. You are a miracle. An angel. You’ve been swayed by his magic. And he was a fool to ever take you from me.” Angry tears welled in her eyes, momentarily softening her rigid exterior. I almost felt sorry for her, until I remembered the innocent lives she casually took, the rage she housed for my father and her own kind, her need to control and to take out her bitterness on the Amaranthians.

  My empathy dissolved.

  “This has nothing to do with Father,” I said. “I was eighteen when he took me from Amaranth, Samira. I was of age and of sound mind, free to make my own choices. I’ve seen what it means to live as both human and a frozen soul. And I made a choice to be with the one I love.”

  I felt the ravenous power slowly weaken around my torso as her fist uncurled in front of me, and I was now able to relax my shoulders and move freely again. Warm thoughts of Gavin, my earthly brother, flitted across my mind. My father had sent me to live with him and his family, an adopted family per se. Living with them on earth, I’d been able to think freely, to decide whether I wanted to remain human. My relationship with Joel led me to my decision to be a vampire, much to my mother’s dismay.

  She hung her head, turned to retreat to her Louis XV chair. “I will do Joel no harm, and will grant him regular visitation to the gates, as you wish. But you are requesting to be human, Arianna, to be an Amaranthian. Just remember that no good will come from hanging on to a frozen soul who wishes to live on earth. No good at all, my daughter.”

  “I don’t regret the choice I made to change, Samira. Joel’s decision to remain vampire has hurt me, but I’d do it all again.” I turned to the wooden doors where Marie stood, peeking in, hissing at me under her breath for leaving her son. Samira motioned her to lead me away, then stood and strolled to the fireplace behind her throne, her back to me. Without another word, I followed Marie out of the dreary room and began to
sob, aware that despite my hopes of Joel visiting me, my love with him was truly severed. I would now be alone again, amidst the countless human souls in Amaranth who also chose the hard, solitary life of reformation, who chose to have their curses lifted and spend eternity here in exile.

  * * *

  Much to my despair, Joel never showed at the exile entrance gates. I waited weeks and weeks for him, every day rushing to the golden bars where I hoped to see his face appear. I’d watched when new vampires arrived and were ushered through. Watched as they transformed from monster to human again as they passed the threshold, their eyes revealing fear and then wonder as Samira’s magic lifted their curse with the admittance. The gates loomed high, angelic in their brass, golden glory, attached to a thick stone wall that rolled out like a ringed fortress surrounding the villages of the city below. Rows of guards lined the walls like statues.

  Months passed, and instead of Joel, his mother Marie appeared at the gates.

  “He wanted you to know that he didn’t come because he does not love you,” she said. “He didn’t come because he does. He can’t bear to bring you more pain, and he can’t bear it himself. Let him go Arianna. It’s time.” She looked at me with beady, pleading eyes, and all I could do was slip my journal through the bars of the gates and into her hands, to show her written proof of the desperation and adoration I’d been stowing away, waiting for him to change his mind and come to me. “Arianna, if you want to see him one last time—”

  “Leave.” Tears made it difficult to see. My cold hands gripped the golden bars as I burned her with my bitter gaze. “Give him that.” I reached out, shoved the journal harder into her chest and stumbled backward.

  “Arianna … he’s sorry he chose to stay on earth, sorry he ever changed you.”

  “I said leave!” I screamed, began retreating through the fog and down the hill toward the city’s central village. The fog began to swallow up the gates as I ran, and I glimpsed a broken man with warm skin and a compassionate face—my favorite face—rushing toward Marie, joining her side to call out to me. He stood there, gripping the bars and begging me with his eyes. I continued to withdraw until his pained face was swallowed up along with the gates, the fog separating me from what I could not separate myself. Curse the day I ever gave my heart to that man!

  * * *

  Herds of villagers bustled about, more than I’d ever seen together at one time, shouting and pushing their way through the crowds that surged the city’s cobblestone streets. They were heading north, toward the gates at the top of the hill. I fought to keep myself out of the street, struggled to make my way toward my cottage door, but the heavy pail of well water and sack of produce I carried over my shoulder caused me to lose my balance when the villagers pummeled into me to get by.

  The pail crashed to my feet and the sack fell behind me, and I was swept into the stampede and carried up, toward the open gates.

  The open gates? I blinked in disbelief. Yes. They stood open. But why?

  Samira’s guards flew above us, swooping down like demons from hell, plucking random people from their feet and sinking their teeth into them. More screams broke out as the guards ferociously swept the streets, trying to stop the Amaranthians from making their way up the hill. I latched on to whomever I could, just to regain balance so I wouldn’t be trampled on. The fears I’d had for some time now came true—an uprising had unfolded and hit its peak. The Amaranthians were finally rebelling against my mother’s reign and wanted out of this exile, wanted to return to earth to enjoy their human lives. Soon, Samira would send more guards into the city to control the rebellion, to stop the Amaranthians from escaping and returning to earth. I knew what her control entailed. It meant a massacre.

  Getting closer to the gates, I ducked my head and winced each time I spotted a guard soaring over me. In mere minutes I would be outside the exile walls, free to make my way to the portal that led to earth, where surely a crowd would be gathering, waiting their turn to ascend to the bayou to make their escape. The crescent moon cycle, the one that declared the portal was open, was present. It was the only time visitors could travel between earth and Amaranth. This must have been planned. Samira’s guards would no doubt wipe out the city to regain control. She wouldn’t kill everyone off. Would she? She couldn’t. She would lose her power if she had no energy to draw from. Do I want this? Do I want to return to earth as human? Could I ever return to Joel? Could I forgive him and leave all of this behind?

  It was now, or never. An opportunity such as this would never present itself to the Amaranthians again.

  Struggling through the crush of villagers, I finally made it outside the exile walls, past the gates, and fought my way toward the portal entry, where my new fate awaited. Finding, then focusing on the maze in the distance, I charged forward with other Amaranthians who clearly had the same idea I did—to leave and never return to this godforsaken place. If I made it back to earth alive, a new season would begin, and I would embrace the change with every ounce of my being. Would there be enough time for the sea of people to make it through the portal? There was no way everyone would make it out alive. Too much hysteria. Humans rarely passed through the portal as it was. If they dared to travel here from earth, they were killed, or changed, immediately upon arrival to Amaranth. So the sight of hundreds and hundreds of warm human bodies surging the portal entry to escape was a foreign one, and alarmingly … inspiring.

  I pushed my way through the crowd but was forced to wait my turn to get to the portal door, and watched, helpless, while people were trampled to their deaths, clawing their way to get to the underground tunnel. All I could picture was my mother, rotting away in her wicked kingdom, all alone after the Amaranthians and guards had left her desolate in her exile. Surely my father would leave her to die the worst kind of death: a sad, lonely, never-ending existence.

  1

  GONE WITH THE WIND

  Present Day, England

  Camille

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Cam?” Gavin raised his eyebrows, which stopped me in front of the charming Victorian bed-and-breakfast. We’d arrived at the hotel a few days ago, after slipping away from Paris, narrowly escaping Arianna’s wrath when she learned Joel was dead. Gavin dipped into his luscious bank account to take over my expenses while we took time to exit reality—leaving Arianna some time to calm down—and to figure out how to arrange a war with the undead. Returning from our walk, I stood on the hotel porch and gazed out at the English countryside, vast and green, with rolling hills and clouds that belonged in dreams.

  “Am I sure? Are you sure that’s going to be the last time you ask me that?” I said. “I think that’s five times since we got in the car, and you promised you wouldn’t ask again.” I squeezed his hand and pulled him toward the front door. I was marrying him if I had to drag him down the damn aisle.

  “Camille, we still haven’t talked about—”

  “Sex? We’ve talked about it plenty. I get it. You want to be human, and it doesn’t look like that’s happening anytime soon, so … end of discussion. The minister’s inside waiting.”

  “All right, all right. But why do I feel like this should be the other way around?” He chuckled as I began towing him through the doors, lowering his voice. “This just seems rash, even for you.”

  Pleased at hearing “rash,” I smiled to myself, then swung around to look at him. By then, I’d plastered a no-nonsense expression on my face. He stopped laughing. “I want to be with you,” I said. “And if it weren’t for your stubborn ‘I-need-to-be-human-first’ thing, I’d have that ring on my finger and you in my bed by now.”

  “What? I’m already in your bed.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, not in the mood for stalling games.

  “I’ve told you how I feel about this. Sleeping with you isn’t just about that.” He pulled me aside, ducking into a hallway. I complied, but my impatience was escalating. I already knew what else it was about. The guy had been around for centuries;
he wasn’t celibate. And yet he wanted to marry me first. Which is why we were here.

  “I have every reason to be concerned,” he said. “With your history, being knocked around—”

  “Gavin. Don’t go there, please.”

  He stuffed us into a sitting room that smelled of warm mint tea, and shut the door. “It matters to me, can’t you understand that? You know, the grandest gesture of respect and all that … for you to know you’re different. It’s important to me to give you that, the opposite of what every guy who came before me didn’t give you … preferably when I’m human and don’t want to sink my fangs into you. And when you feel you’re ready to let someone else put their hands on you. Is that so much to ask?”

  “And I appreciate that, which is why I’m ready to do this.”

  “We still have so much to deal with. We have to go back to Paris and see Arianna, construct a plan to get back to Amaranth and face Samira again. Let’s plan this the right way, at the right time. Don’t you want Audrey and Gabe with us for this?”

  “Right now, I can’t even look at Arianna, Gavin. I didn’t have time to prepare, I could barely come up with a proper apology. As for Audrey and Gabe, we can have a formal ceremony later, when this nightmare is over. And we don’t even know if …” I felt tears well up at the possibility they were dead, but pushed them back.

  He took my chin in his hand, forced me to look at him. “Let’s go back to Paris, love. We’ve given Arianna time to cool off. Besides, we’re running out of time. We need to make preparations before the Amaranthian portal opens again and Samira sends more guards after us. God knows how many are already here on earth, looking for us … we don’t know how many followed us through the portal after we escaped. And Marie’s still on the loose …”

  Marie. Joel’s mother. She was here on earth, on a mission to capture me. He has a point. The clock began ticking when we escaped Amaranth, our safety critical. Samira, the ruler of Amaranth, would surely see to it that we paid our debts from our last visit. The next crescent moon was imminent, which meant the Amaranthian portal would soon open, giving her guards access to earth again, and plenty of opportunity to find us.