Page 1 of Touched By Destiny

Chapter 1

Thirty-three years ago

The breeze swept Gabriel Wolfebrier’s overly long blond hair from his face, but he barely noticed. Purposefully, he put one foot in front of the other. The stitches below his clavicle pinched, as did the ones stretched across his shoulder blade, making him grimace. The bullet that had ripped through his flesh a few days ago would leave him with scars. It was a small price to pay for trying to save a child. Gabriel wouldn’t have changed anything about his actions, even though he now knew the boy had been dead before Gabriel was shot.

He was squeezing his eyes shut kept the tears at bay, but Gabriel would eventually have to deal with reality and the way his life had changed. An unfamiliar sound reached his ears, followed by a string of curses. Several feet away, a cop was trying to coax a cuffed man out from the back of his cruiser. It was a scenario that mirrored Gabriel’s own experience, as he’d recently been arrested for murdering the man who’d given him life. That man had been his family and best friend for the past fifteen years.

“Mr. Wolfebrier,” a stranger called out. His black hair shone in the bright sunlight, and his dark suit fit so perfectly it had to be custom made. He stood in front of a gleaming stretch limousine, and it was clear this was the man who’d paid for his bail.

Unlike the police officer carting his swearing companion into the police station, this man wasn’t human. Magic had a rhythm, and there was more for Gabriel’s senses to latch onto. The sorcerer had a soulmate—one with a bond strong enough that it wrapped his essence so tightly with another’s that any non-human could detect it.

“Who are you?” Gabriel asked gruffly once he was three feet from the exquisitely attired man. Although Gabriel was dressed in a scratchy jumpsuit since they’d taken his own clothing as evidence, he refused to feel shabby. His former benefactor had dressed impeccably, and it had effectively hidden the evil that resided in him. People saw a rich man with a friendly smile and offered him their trust. Gabriel wished he hadn’t been one of the many tricked by the asshole.

“I’m Clark Marwood,” the sorcerer replied as if Gabriel should recognize the name. He did not. “If you will do me the honor of stepping inside the car with me, I’ll gladly explain why I’m here.”

“And you paid to spring me out of jail, Mr. Marwood?”

“Exactly. Please call me Clark.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, and I refuse to dance to your tune just because you chose to throw your money around.”

“Consider it a loan. Once Samael Wolfebrier’s assets are distributed, you’ll be a very wealthy man. You can pay me back if you wish, though it isn’t required.”

“How do you know about Samael’s will?”

Clark smiled wolfishly. “I make it my business to know a great many things. Please, we’ll talk more, but it’s probably best if we have some privacy.”

“Fine, but I can’t pay you back. They aren’t going to give me Samael’s money. I’ll probably spend a couple of decades behind bars for his murder.”

With nothing but an enigmatic smile, Clark motioned toward the open door next to him. Gabriel nearly shrugged, but thankfully remembered the torn flesh and broken bones mending above his sling. As carefully as he could, Gabriel lowered his six-foot-two-inch frame into the vehicle and found himself in the company of another stranger. Like Clark Marwood, she was a sorcerer, dressed elegantly in dark clothing, and had a blue gaze ripe with intelligence.

“Hello, Gabriel, I’m Rosalind,” the blond woman said as Clark followed Gabriel into the limousine and took her hand. They wore matching silver rings on their left hands. Marriages weren’t unusual among the few sorcerers Gabriel had met, and it was the easiest way to explain a soulmate to a human.

“Gabe. Everyone calls me Gabe.”

“The archangel Gabriel was a protector and defender. I have a feeling you have much in common with him,” Rosalind replied.

“I was unaware sorcerers believed in human religions.”

“I don’t,” Rosalind remarked as the car pulled away from the curb. “But I made a study of it some centuries ago, and I learned a great deal. Religion aside, I like the sound of the name Gabriel. Do you mind if I call you that?”

There was kindness in her smile and in her soulmate’s, and even as Gabriel scolded himself for being stupid enough to climb into a limousine with two complete strangers, he shook his head. Trusting the wrong person was the story of Gabriel’s life now, and he was furious with himself for not questioninganything—he’d taken Samael’s word that the bodies they’d buried in the dead of night were people threatening the existence of necromancers and the people they resurrected. Not once had it occurred to Gabriel that those poor souls were innocents.

“Can I offer you some water?” Clark asked. “Or we could stop somewhere to get you some food. You must be hungry.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel replied, steadfastly ignoring the rumble in his belly contradicting his words. “Tell me what you want.”

“You’re an inspirit,” Rosalind said. “As necromancers, it’s our duty to care for inspirits. But I doubt that is enough reason for you, and you’d be right. We have a proposition for you.”

“Inspirit. I haven’t heard that word in years,” Gabriel mused.

“Samael resurrected you, correct? What did he call you if not an inspirit?” Clark asked.

“We rarely spoke of my resurrection; it was fifteen years ago. Humans are everywhere. We can’t hide what we are if we talk about it constantly, so neither Samael nor I gave it much thought.”

“And he provided you with documentation to convince any nosy humans you were his brother?”

“Yes, but you know I’m not. Samael gave me life, and I believed my purpose was to keep him safe. He convinced me necromancers are in constant danger, and I believed him. I learned a few days ago that he left a great deal out of the story.”

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