Finding Gabriel Read Free Page B

fueled her steps. As if mocking her resolve, a harsh gust of wind drove through the trees and rattled the nude branches.
    A run-down prostitute wandered the street in pursuit of work. Resembling a corpse with uncanny likeness, she was malnourished, her cheeks drained of any color. Face bowed in shame, an abundance of curls cascaded over her body like some secretive curtain. Her bodice drooped from slim shoulders in unflattering, irregular folds, flaunting her deprivation rather than her sensuality. Ariah’s heart sank as they locked gazes. Strained anxiety flitted across the woman’s haggard features; only her flaming red hair appeared alive. The prostitute secured the hood around her face and darted in the opposite direction.
    But Ariah had seen enough to know she wasn’t a day over fifteen years.
    “Wait. Please.” Ariah latched onto the girl’s shoulder and spun her around full circle. Then she reached inside her dress pocket and withdrew a handful of sous. Saying nothing, she gave a weak smile and deposited the coins into the prostitute’s trembling palm.
    “Bless you!” Two sunken eyes widened in shock. Dark circles rimmed the prostitute’s vacant gaze. Her face, in all of its tragic glory, reminded Ariah of a death’s-head. Even her voice was frail and broken.
    “You really must find suitable shelter,” Ariah insisted. “The weather is worsening by the moment, and these streets are nowhere for a young lady to venture alone.”
    The prostitute’s gaze widened again at the mention of a “young lady.”
    “I shall – I swear it! Merci. ” The prostitute’s eyes descended to the silver cross that hung from Ariah’s neck – another precious keepsake from her childhood. Then the girl finally smiled, and in that moment, the weight of despair visibly lifted from her frail shoulders. “May the Lord keep you!” And without another word, the prostitute vanished down a nearby alleyway.
    Rattled by the exchange, Ariah sprinted through the darkness. What if her own child had to resort to such desperation one day? The thought summoned a wave of panic and shook her to the very core. Non, she inwardly vowed – no matter what lay in their future, she’d always ensure Emmaline was well guarded. Well guarded, well cared for, and free of society’s corruption.
    On either side of Ariah, crumbling buildings and ancient monuments towered out of the darkness. Through her eyes, they resembled demonic manifestations … monsters crouching among the shadows. Ariah winced as she realized the irony of her words to the prostitute; she, too, was venturing the very same streets without an escort …
    A distinct coldness swept through her. In a vain attempt to generate heat, she rubbed both hands together and picked up her stride. Below her heels, a film of sleet hid the cobblestones and deafened her steps.
    She crossed one of the stone bridges and surveyed her surroundings. Down below, the river was tinted an oily black. Infused with an evil intent, the dark surface swallowed every beam of moonlight and exuded a faint, melodic trickling sound.
    Ariah froze in her tracks and wrapped all ten fingers around the stone banister. She turned her face into the breeze and allowed her eyes to drift shut. Her senses soared, claiming a life of their own. Even through the barrier of her kid gloves, the stone was rigid … colder than ice. The chill seeped inside her flesh, numbing her to the bone. As if conveying a dark secret, the wind seductively whispered in her ears and tossed curls about her cheeks. For a moment, she felt strangely at peace.
    And then it happened. Something shifted.
    Silence hung in the air like a bad omen. Not even the wind dared to breathe. Terror bloomed inside Ariah’s chest. Her fight instinct kicked into motion, as her eyes snapped open, taking in every shadow, every crevice, every light beam. She caressed the dagger through the material of her skirts and examined her desolate surroundings – missing