by Erin Snihur
Hero of the InBetween
Book 2 of the InBetween Series
Erin Snihur
Copyright 2018 by Erin Snihur
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Acknowledgments
To my dog, Trigger, for listening into the wee hours of the night about my psychotic characters and their stories that must be written.
Contents
1. Darius
2. Elara
3. Elara
4. Elara
5. Darius
6. Elara
7. Elara
8. Elara
9. Darius
10. Elara
11. Darius
12. Dina
13. Darius
14. Elara
15. Darius
16. Elara
17. Darius
18. Elara
19. Darius
20. Elara
21. Darius
22. Darius
23. Darius
24. Elara
25. Darius
26. Elara
27. Elara
28. Darius
29. Elara
30. Elara
31. Elara
32. Darius
33. Elara
Prologue
Teaser
About the Author
Also by Erin Snihur
1
Darius
“Darius, Keeper of the InBetween, you stand before the Almighty’s most trusted servants, the seven Archangels."
The somber voice of the bailiff to my right paused before continuing, “Are you prepared to hear the charges laid against you?”
My hands are locked together in holy chains and my wings are pinned back, stopping me from any chance at escape. Inwardly, I snort. Where would I escape to exactly? Seven of the most powerful beings in the world are sitting before me, watching me with cold, obvious dislike.
Exhaling, I shrug my shoulders and nod to the hooded bailiff, an angel who chose to remain hidden beneath his cloaks. The sword strapped to the belt wrapped around his waist was the only reminder that the bailiff was not to be trifled with.
“You must declare your answer, Keeper." The bailiff’s impatient voice rings out once more and I force my face to remain neutral as the wave of power rolls over me from above. The bailiff wasn’t the only one becoming impatient. They were as well.
Clenching my fists and ignoring the rattle of the chains wrapped around them, I glare at the hooded bailiff, unable to see into his eyes, “Read the charges.”
The bailiff extends his hands and in it glow a golden scroll that he opens ever so slowly and dramatically. I want to wring his neck. It wasn’t long before he clears his throat and reads aloud the charges like one would a poem.
“Darius, Keeper of the InBetween, you are hereby charged with treason of the highest order for allowing the InBetween, realm of the Almighty, and the Flaming Sword to fall into demonic hands. You are also charged with treason for the unlawful use of the power the Almighty bestowed upon you. No being, other than the Almighty himself, shall bring those human souls who have died back from the dead." The bailiff pauses again and turns to me.
I only glare back as he mockingly asks, “How do you plead to these charges?”
I could feel the seven Archangels’ eyes on me, their power was everywhere, I could practically feel it brushing against me with every twitch of my wings and muscles. I didn’t look up, but instead gazed back at the bailiff and stand straighter, my wings tensing against the bindings.
“Not guilty on all counts."
I would never regret saving Elara or the InBetween from Ambriel’s curse. Even now, as my thoughts drift to her, I am warmed from head to toe. I will always protect her.
The bailiff lets out a sound of disbelief and turns to the seven Archangels, “Your Honors, the charges have been read and the accuser’s plea entered. I move for immediate sentencing given the evidence and witness testimony that has already been collected.”
A calm, feminine voice speaks out over the silent room. The voice was meant to soothe and calm those that were anxious. It infuriated me. Jophiel. She was known as the beauty of the Archangels. Her beauty only hid the cunning warrior beneath and had my muscles tensing out of habit at the presence of one so powerful.
“Thank you, bailiff. Leave us with the accused for deliberation." Jophiel’s voice was sickly sweet as she spoke to the bailiff. While her voice made my skin crawl, it did not have the same effect on the bailiff, whose eyes glazed over as he stammered out a reply.
“But…my Lady,” the bailiff began to protest as the doors behind me opened and a wave of power pelted down upon us both.
“Leave."
This was a command, not a request. The bailiff soon realized who had issued the command and promptly strode out of the room, doors shutting swiftly behind him. The command had come from the middle throne. Michael.
I tensed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me once more. Out of all of them, Michael was the one I hated being before the most. I had hoped he wouldn’t be in attendance. He had mentored me in the early years of my training, and now he would sentence me for my alleged crimes.
How ironic.
Once the room was silent with the bailiff’s departure, the chains around my wrists and the bindings holding my wings dropped to the ground instantly, much to my surprise. My wings stretched and I let out a sigh of relief as the feeling of power rippling through them returned.
With the return of my faculties, I gaze upward to the seven thrones and the Archangels seated before me. The last time I had been present with all seven was when I had been bequeathed the Flaming Sword and the post as Keeper of the InBetween.
All seven stared down at me as if I were a small child caught stealing sweets. Michael sat in the middle throne, back straight and blue eyes leveled upon me. I had always gaged Michael’s mood on his eyes, as they too changed with his temperament. Presently they were as calm as a small lake.
On his left and right sat the only two female Archangels in attendance, Ariel and Jophiel. Both beautiful in their own right and both so very different. While Jophiels’ pale skin, hair, white eyes and small form made her appear as innocent as a lamb, I knew she could kill me with a wave of her hand.
Ariel was the exact opposite and lived up to expectation as being known as the “Lion of the Almighty”. As always, Ariel was dressed for battle in a leather corset and leather pants. The sword and daggers strapped to her thighs, calves and waist made me uneasy. Her dark skin and equally dark eyes shone brightly against the paleness of her throne as she watched me with her cat-like eyes.
Next to Ariel sat Raphael, the healer and most lighthearted out of the group. Though today, his serious frown and refusal to meet my eye meant something more was afoot. His gaze, instead, was leveled across the room from him to the Archangel who sat next to Jophiel, Azrael, known as the “Angel of Destruction”, according to human lore. Azrael’s dark eyes and tanned skin were tense as they stared back at Raphael. His fists were clenched tight as if ready to do battle. With whom I wasn’t sure.
The final two Archangels, Gabriel and Chamuel, sat at either ends of the row of thrones. Both appeared bored; however, with their golden hair and innocent looks, they too were not to be trifled with. None of them were. While the Archangels chose not to display their wings like the rest of us lowly angels, this choice did not make them any less powerful.
My thoughts were quickly interrupted as Michael stood from his throne and walked down the steps of the platform to stand before me. H
is clear gaze never wavered from mine. As he approached, his eyes did not remain clear and quickly grew stormy, causing me to tense and prepare myself for his inevitable anger.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" Michael snarled his question as he crossed his arms over his large chest.
My mentor didn’t allow me to speak and instead continued on with his rant as he began to pace. “Thousands of our generals are reporting an unbelievable amount of demonic presences unleashed upon Earth and threats are piling up. Has time spent in that realm made you dense? Or are you just as daft as your consort was?”
Ariel stood then, glaring at Michael at the mention of Ambriel and her betrayal, “That is enough, Michael. There is no need to insult the dead.”
Raphael quickly scoffed at Ariel’s words and sent the woman a teasing look. “Then perhaps we should look to the one who mentored the now dead consort? You claimed Ambriel to be fit for the post in the InBetween. Perhaps your judgement is compromised, dear sister?”
I winced at the insult Raphael threw Ariel’s way, but the calm woman did not take the bait and merely ignored him before turning to gaze upon each of the others, including myself.
“If anyone has concerns over my judgement, let them speak now.” Ariel spoke the words calmly, but the icy tone was enough to send my gaze to the floor.
When no one spoke up, Ariel continued, “Good. Keeper, we have a full report from the see-er, Pascal. His visions showed us the truth of what occurred in the InBetween through your eyes. There were many avenues you could have taken to avoid such calamity.”
Before I could stop myself, I spoke up, interrupting Ariel as politely as I could. “I beg your pardon, my Lady, but you were not present. In the heat of the moment, I did what was best for the souls that were in the InBetween at that time. I protected them and guarded them from what lurked beyond that cursed wall.”
Michael still stood before me pacing. I caught sight of his eyes calming as he backed away from me and strode up the steps to retake his throne.
“And the loss of the Flaming Sword, one of the Almighty’s most powerful gifts bequeathed to us? That does not alarm you?" Azrael’s harsh voice spoke up, his glare no longer on Raphael, but solely on me.
Swallowing, I gave a polite bow to appease the obviously angry Archangel and looked all seven in the eye before turning back to Azrael. “The sword was used to kill the soul-eater, Tarnin. I know not where it could have gone. Pascal should be consulted. He has always had a strong affinity for such things.”
Jophiel calmly patted Azrael’s hand and serenely smiled down upon me. “You must understand our confusion, Darius.” I couldn’t stop the wince from forming across my face at her use of my name. “Is it possible that the soul you resurrected and returned to Earth stole the sword as well?”
I shook my head in an instant. “El…The soul would not have the need to steal the sword. She was only wielding it to save me.”
Jophiel’s childlike laughter rang out across the room and echoed all around. “Save you? A deceased soul? How ridiculous. Human souls cannot wield the Flaming Sword.”
I allowed her laughter to roll off of me and stood my ground. “Elara, the soul, was not dead on Earth yet when I stole her away to the InBetween. Her body remained alive on Earth. I believe the sword chose her as its host to defeat Tarnin and break the curse.”
Azrael’s shout of disgust interrupts Jophiel as the Archangel, known for his temper, jumps up from his throne, “And because of your actions, the sword was lost and the gates to Earth were opened long enough for demons to enter and cause further destruction. Do you deny it?”
“I do not." I answer solemnly, knowing the direction Azrael wished to take this sentencing.
Azrael’s grin would have put the fear of the Almighty into many of the most despicable demons in Hell. I did not show my fear of him and instead thought of Elara, safe on Earth away from the tortures she would have faced here.
“He admits his guilt then, brothers and sisters. I move for immediate sentencing. The highest form of punishment, clipping of his wings and jailed in the pits of Tartarus for eternity." Azrael’s words were spoken from one who was itching to see pain inflicted.
I freeze as his words wash over me. The pits of Tartarus were reserved for only the most vile and despicable beings. I was not alone in my surprise. Jophiel’s gasp did not go unnoticed as the others began whispering amongst themselves at the mere mention of Azrael’s punishment. Only Michael was silent as he stared down at me.
Finally, Michael stood and I nervously shifted on my feet. Half of me expected to have my wings clipped right then and there.
“Do you believe you could find the sword?" Michael asks the question softly and all eyes turn to me in confusion at his line of questioning.
My fists shake as I meet Michael’s gaze and nod, “Yes, I believe so. With the help of my friends." Inwardly, I was panicking. I had no idea if we could, but I knew we had to try.
Michael nods and looks around to his fellow Archangels. “One hundred lashes and your wounds shall not be healed by any healer. Instead, they shall heal slowly as a reminder of your idiocy in allowing a human to lure you from your path. Find the sword or else we will seek retribution from not only you, but the girl as well. Elara. Souls don’t do well in Tartarus, as I’m sure you are aware, Darius.”
At my acknowledgement, Michael sat once more, his voice booming throughout the room, “Let it be done.”
2
Elara
“We have a problem.”
I can’t move. I can’t respond to his idiotic statement. I haven’t seen Darius, the man I love, in over six months and this is the first thing he says to the woman who saved his life. Let’s just say it wasn’t the greeting I was expecting.
I open my mouth to speak; but before I can, a crash sounds from behind me. I spin around in alarm at the sight of four of the most gorgeous people I’d ever seen standing by my hallway entrance. I blink a few times to ensure I wasn’t seeing things, as I stare at each one of them separately.
One of the men stands in front of the rest, almost like he is attempting to protect the others from me. His dark gaze holds mine, as if he was trying to read my mind or my intentions. The hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge. He is powerful.
The only female of the group gazes at me with such scrutiny that I feel as if her gaze would burn me alive. Her lightly bronzed skin and pale, blue eyes made me supress a shiver of fear. She obviously doesn’t like me.
The largest man out of the four is at the back of the group leaning disinterestedly against the wall. His skin is darker than the others. It makes him more intimidating, but the laugh lines on his face tell a different story. It is all an act. He is pretending to be disinterested, but I can tell he wants to act. Though, act on what I am unsure.
The final man of the group is an enigma. He is shorter than the rest, leaner in muscle; and yet, this man still gives off an aura of power. His eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses, though his gaze seems to meet mine when I look into them.
The reason for the crash lays at the feet of the man with sunglasses. A vase, broken beyond compare, lay at his feet. My heart sinks at the sight of the ruined vase. It had reminded me of Darius and the beauty of the InBetween.
Footsteps behind me has me pausing as I take a step toward the broken vase. Darius comes around and stands slightly off to the side in front of the foursome. He levels me with an achingly, familiar gaze.
“We have a problem." He repeats with such intensity that I am surprised when I don’t faint right then and there. His gaze is not wavering from mine even as I try to calm my breathing.
“Darius…" My voice trails off. I can’t stop my eyes from welling up as I feel the warm tears slide down my cheeks. “You’re here. I thought..."
I reach out to cup his face, but he pulls back at the last minute, his eyes harsh and cruel as they gaze down at me. I feel as though someone is stamping on my heart and I try to keep the tear
s at bay. All I had dreamed about over the last six months was being able to see this man; and now that he was here, it was as if nothing had happened in the InBetween.
Clenching my fists tightly, I wrap my arms around myself and glare back up at him.
“What is it?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“What was the last thing you remember before returning to Earth?" Darius asks. His words are hard and cold.
I shudder, as I close my eyes and shakily open them to stare at the group standing behind Darius. They all appear anxious as they wait for my reply. They probably thought I was going to have a mental breakdown any moment.
“Tarnin, the demon. He stabbed me. I was dying. I could feel it. Then nothing. I woke up in the hospital. Alone." I whisper, my gaze firmly on Darius as I do so.
A bit of warmth spreads through me as I watch his left eye twitch faintly, before he spins around and nods to the large man who stands in front of the group. Before the leader of the group can speak, the man wearing the sunglasses speaks up, his deep voice is hauntingly familiar to my ears. I have heard his voice before. But where?
“You wielded the Flaming Sword, Elara Greer. How is that possible?" He asks these words as if he was in awe of me, a mere mortal.
“Who are you people?" I ask in response, ignoring his question. I didn’t know the answer and refuse to be intimidated any longer, in my own home no less.