Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  “It was her.” Evie lunged at me, but Ma caught her shoulders. Evie stamped her foot like a curly-haired toddler. “She’ll destroy…devour…him. Can’t you see? Please don’t punish my angel. After what’s been done to him…”

  “He defied me. He knew what discipline would follow. She may share the consequences since she’s the temptress.”

  Da yanked both Rebel and me up, with a hand at the back of our necks. Rebel still clutched my hand; his palm was sweating. I struggled, spitting like a cat.

  When Rebel and me were hauled into the study, I couldn’t help the anxious glance at the cane. The same panic as the last time I’d been brought to this room curdled in my stomach.

  Ma unlocked a small door that was engraved with a rose, wolf, and fox. It matched the picture above the range. The door was hidden amongst the books and opened into a square, black space…it was a box inlaid with gold, which wasn’t big enough for a man — or angel — to do more than kneel…

  “Wings open, Zach.” Da rapped the door. Shuddering, Rebel obeyed. “On your knees.”

  Rebel dropped down with a beautiful grace, although there was a terrible bleakness in his eyes. He edged into the ornate box in the wall. It forced him to bow his head and curl around his wings. By the time that he was contorted into the space, his muscles must already have been cramping.

  I booted Da’s shin; Da’s mouth thinned.

  Yet I couldn’t allow Rebel to suffer alone, when I was the devil who’d whispered rebellion in his ear. I didn’t need Evie’s smug tap on my shoulder to fall to my knees and shuffle in facing Rebel. Without wings, I fitted.

  I nestled against Rebel’s chest, in the cradle of his wings. Cocooned in his feathers, I was flooded by a sense of coming home.

  Slam — the door was shut, and Rebel and I were locked in the dark.

  Rebel grabbed both my hands. His wings trembled. Fast, panted breaths filled the black. His chest rose and fell like a terrified horse’s.

  Now I knew why the witches punished Rebel in this way. It was the same lesson that I’d learned at J’s knee: Find a bloke’s weakness and shank sharp.

  I stroked my thumbs in gentle circles over the backs of Rebel’s knuckles. “You’re having a panic attack.” The same words that I’d repeated to Jade, every time that she’d cowered in corners with her attacks. “You’re safe. Just breath.” I squeezed his hand in time with his slowing breaths, until at last he slumped, resting his forehead against mine. I shifted on my aching knees. “So, you really are one of these Addicts, huh?”

  In the long silence, I reckoned that Rebel wouldn’t answer. Then he replied, “Ages ago, I looked beyond Angel World to the human one. And when I did, I was screwed…the call and thrill of it was too much. The gentle beauty of human family, love, music, food, drink, dancing…and freedom.” He laughed. “See? Bad. Look, but not touch. Ever. And I was after touching. So, Human Addict. The House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox saved me.”

  I snorted. “Transformed you into a torture doll.”

  “Discipline, not torture. To remind me that outside here, I’m hunted because I’m an Addict.”

  “You’re locked in a box. What’s worse than this?”

  “Forty years in one.” I bit my tongue. Just sometimes I wished that I could hold back the bitch. “I was captured,” Rebel murmured, sad and soft. “A birdcage prison in the dark.”

  The bloke’s voice was haunted; I didn’t blame him.

  Then realization hit me. “You couldn’t open your left wing?”

  “The gits strapped it down. They only allowed it to open a little, but never to fly. You do that? It’s the worst pain that an angel can endure. They’re after making sure that you never forget how far you’ve fallen because you’re an Addict.” His tone was tear-tinged. “I hoped that I’d have the strength to break it this time. But once an addict, always an addict.” I bumped my forehead hard against Rebel’s. “By all the saints…”

  “Better an Addict than some arrogant bully angel. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have encouraged you to…overdose. But you helped me when you knew the risk and that makes you fam.”

  Rebel’s breath caught, before he whispered, “I couldn’t find your sister because she’s no longer on earth.”

  I didn’t know that I’d whimpered, until Rebel’s lips were pressed to mine in apology. “And she’s not dead, you dope. She’s in Angel World or…”

  “If you leave me hanging, I’ll twist your balls.”

  “She’s no longer fully human. Just like the other lads and lasses, I reckon.”

  It was my turn to gasp in the blackness of that box.

  Slam — the sugar copper swallowed me, until I was bubbled in its — slam — tingling warmth — slam — soft feathers and — slam — sweetness.

  Despite everything, the waves of Rebel’s sugar stroked me down from my panic. I needed him, as much as he needed me.

  Taken by the angels or not human? I didn’t know which to hope for after the birdcage story.

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s no longer human or has been taken by some supernatural.” I shrugged. “Fam is fam.”

  “Then I made a mistake,” Rebel’s tone hardened. Here again was the warrior with the flaming wings and righteousness. “Now we know who could’ve taken your sister, we can’t hide like babbies. I’m more than an Addict; I’m a hunter. And you, princess? You don’t know it yet, but you can fly higher than I can even dream.”

  As I nested in Rebel’s wings, I could pretend that I’d found a new family.

  But that was the lie.

  Hunted or hunter, Rebel’s addiction would free me from the witches’ house, so that I could find my sister. Although I craved for Rebel to be mine, I was still a prisoner, and we were still enemies, even if we suffered together in the dark.

  You can be a prisoner in a cell or in your mind. A prisoner to society, your conscience, or whispered self-doubts. In a prison of family or love.

  Yet you can choose whether you fly, even in chains, or remain forever shackled in the dark.

  Evie led Rebel and me stumbling towards the gloom of the Great Hall. Gold velvet curtains suffocated the light. My legs cramped after being trapped all night in the box. Rebel wrapped his wings around me like a feather coat; they twitched with spasms of pain.

  Yet we’d survived, together. And now we had a plan.

  When Evie spun with a mocking bow to usher us into the hall, which was hung with black wolf skins and russet, white-tipped fox brushes, I faltered.

  A vast map of London — Westminster, Buckingham Palace, and even my Hackney — pulsated in rose quartz across the entire hall like a heartbeat. It was a crystal world, the human London, in the hands of the witches who crouched over the map, whispering to the air like they were commanding invisible legions.

  I tripped, dragging Rebel down too in a tangle of sweet Jesuses. Then Rebel hauled me up, the righteous fire sparking in his eyes again. He raised his boot and…crunch.

  Big Ben stomped by an angel.

  Take that, Godzilla.

  The map glowed violently, as if convulsing from a bleeding wound. Da and Ma merely straightened, however, whilst Ma gave a casual shrug.

  “Tantrum over?” Da unclasped the fox brush from around his neck.

  “Take them off her.” Rebel raised my hands, jangling the handcuffs.

  I wouldn’t be a prisoner anymore. That’s what we’d agreed in the long night. And Rebel would teach me what it meant to be an angel, so that I could save my sister.

  “I don’t think so.” Da waved his hand dismissively.

  Rebel raised his foot to stomp on Parliament, but I gripped his elbow. “Before you get medieval on the politicians, why don’t you just snap these cuffs with your super strength?”

  Evie sniggered as she knelt by the map, stroking the crystal Big Ben; the quartz fused back into shape. “They’re angel proof, of course, else how could we chain him? Where do you imagine we magicked the bondage-wear from, special one?”


  Rebel avoided my eye.

  I flushed. I should’ve guessed that I wasn’t the first angel to be chained by these witches.

  “I’m surprised that last night taught you nothing, Zach.” Da held the fox brush above the map, sweeping an outline through the air.

  I expected Rebel to flinch, but instead he squared his shoulders. “You’re wrong, Da. When you locked us up, it taught me that I’m more than an Addict. To face the worst and that this isn’t about me anymore. It’s about—”

  “Princess, princess, princess,” Evie exploded, shoving Rebel back, but he caught her hands.

  “And that’s why you need to uncuff her,” Rebel insisted gently, winding Evie’s curl around his finger, “because we need to train. She has the right to be taught her powers.”

  When Evie glanced between us, I was surprised by the wetness trickling down her cheeks. She nodded but before she could reach my cuffs, she was stopped by Da.

  “Train?” Da’s lip curled, before he raised the brush even higher, stroking it from base to tip, one — two — three — times. Rebel paled. Da bit his lip savagely, trailing the white fur through the crimson, as if the fox had only just been torn bloody. “Vulpes Vulpes.” The crystals hummed with a dangerous, furious whine. Da barked again, “Vulpes Vulpes.”

  The walls shook; the fox brushes hanging as trophies thumped a beat. Rebel clasped my hand, dragging me back towards the door, without once looking away from his scarlet mouthed Da.

  “I knew that I hated spell lobbers,” I muttered, clinging to Rebel.

  Then in the center of the crystal London, a tail appeared.

  A fox’s brush, bushy and black-fringed. Then heavy flanks and a rusty-red body, larger than any regular fox. But then regular foxes didn’t materialize body part by body part like a screwed-up version of the Cheshire Cat. Black paws, legs, and finally a narrow head with pointed black ears and…

  Dangerous but intelligent amber eyes, studying me.

  I froze. The fox’s unblinking scrutiny called to the dark under my skin.

  “Send them back,” Rebel pleaded. “We don’t need Spark and Blaze.”

  That’s when the second fox materialized at the large fox’s shoulder. Except, this fox appeared all in a rush, like it was late. Bright red, with a brilliant white throat, chest and white-tipped tail, it was as pretty as its brother. It ducked its head and whined, nuzzling the first fox.

  Then it too turned its green gaze towards me.

  “You wished to train.” Da nodded at the foxes. Their tails lifted. “Now train.”

  When the foxes stalked towards Rebel and me, we backed away.

  The witches had set new demons on us. Creatures that they were using to hurt — train — us.

  Just like I’d used and hurt Rebel.

  My jaw clenched, as I studied the beauty of the foxes that right now had been turned against us. I’d never fought a magical creature before, and I didn’t want to start with ones that frightened Rebel. The foxes prowled closer, whilst their tails lashed. Their eyes glinted and then they bared their sharp thin teeth.

  8

  When Rebel reached for my hand, my first instinct was to pull back.

  The foxes watched us with their sharp eyes as they prowled either side of the hissing map towards us.

  The walls in the Great Hall trembled; the curtains swayed in a wild dance. I grabbed Rebel’s fingers between mine, unnerved. The handcuffs clinked, cold against my skin.

  What the hell did it matter if I’d used Rebel or he was an Addict? Fam was fam, these demons were free, and our arses were being hunted.

  “Run!” Rebel hauled me after him through the hallway.

  There was the skitter of claws on the oak floors behind us. A primal fear spiked my adrenaline. Rebel booted open the side-door, and Rebel and I scrambled through to the stone terrace.

  Rusty-red on one side, bright red on the other. The foxes circled hungrily.

  Rebel and I dodged through the stone pieces of the giant red and green chess set, as the foxes slunk close to the ground on either side, into the thickets of rose bushes, which were stripped bare in winter, before weaving in and out between the stems.

  I pricked myself on a thorn, and watched the blood bead; well, I’d wanted to be Sleeping Beauty.

  I frowned. “So, which of these bastards is Spark?”

  “The one with green eyes and white tail.” Rebel spun around with his wings beating, as Spark danced towards him, before retreating. The little wallad was playing us. “The big fellah with amber eyes and black paws? That’s Blaze. They’re brothers. Christ…”

  Blaze had jumped from the bushes and sunk his canines into Rebel’s ankle. I swirled with fury that the fox had tasted my angel and taken blood that should only be mine.

  Yet Rebel’s blood was his own; I’d never enslave him.

  When Spark tried the same trick on me, I booted him in the head. He rolled onto his back and wriggled, whining.

  “Lay off,” Rebel panted, trying to prise Blaze off his ankle, “don’t hurt the idiots.”

  “You’re joking?” I met Blaze’s serious stare with a snarl, and he let go of Rebel’s leg.

  Blaze lashed his tail back and forth and bounded over to his brother. He nudged Spark with a nip that made Spark yelp, and together they skulked deeper into the gardens.

  Rebel had snapped my boyfriend’s neck like it was a game at a funfair but he drew the line at kicking a magic fox?

  Rebel took one limping step towards the mansion, but then there was a furious guttural chattering howl, and dark shapes darted across the path.

  “They’re after hounding us. It’s a fox hunt in reverse.” Rebel’s mouth became a tight line. “Sometimes you can’t face the worst. You have to hide.” He drew me towards a maze of privet hedges; foxes were pruned into the topiary like plant gargoyles. I pulled back, but he shook his head. “There’s no other way, Feathers.”

  “Not until you tell me why we’re hiding from a pair of juiced foxes.”

  “They’re Blood Familiars.” Rebel fiddled with the skull on his bondage trousers. “Da owns them. It’s not the brothers’ fault. Please, they’ve been ordered to hurt us.”

  I suddenly realized that Rebel must know this because he’d suffered training with the familiars before. That was all it took to kick my arse into dashing after him down the gravel paths of the maze. Every twist and turn was as familiar as the routine in the study for Rebel.

  I trusted Rebel because otherwise I was lost.

  “So, angels, spell lobbers, and now familiars as well? Is there anything else you’re not telling me?” I demanded.

  Rebel’s expression shuttered. “There’s a lot I’m not telling you, just like there’s a lot more in our world than those supernaturals. It won’t be long until you meet them. Why do you think I’m protecting you?”

  Howls.

  As we darted to the center of the maze, they echoed around us. I remembered the slice of those teeth biting into Rebel’s ankle, noticing the blood trail that he left behind like breadcrumbs for the foxes.

  The howls were closer. The familiars’ hot panted breath was on my boots. The center of the maze arose up ahead like the holy land.

  Rebel hobbled towards the fountain, which was a carved marble rose, blossoming open and as if being born from it, a fox and a wolf. The fountain wasn’t running because it’d been frozen to ice.

  I snorted. This was the big prize that would save us?

  Rebel clambered over the lip of the fountain, before skidding across the thick ice to the statue of the fox.

  I stared at him blankly. “For real?”

  He slipped, bumping to his arse. “They don’t cross ice. The muppets can swim though; I found that out the hard way.”

  I slapped my hand against my thigh. “Then step-up and fight the bastards.”

  Amber and green beamed out of the dark. The two brothers stalked towards us.

  “Spark and Blaze don’t have a choice. They’re under my famil
y’s power.” Rebel was clutching hard to the fountain; his breath came in dragon puffs. He looked troubled and distant as he murmured, “And I refuse to hurt slaves.”

  “Even if they’re about to hurt me?”

  The Blood Familiars slunk closer in ever decreasing circles. They held their brushes — one black and one white — proudly aloft, chattering. Never once did they look away from me.

  “Princess,” Rebel hissed, flapping his wings in agonized indecision, “please will you stir yourself?”

  Blaze rested back on his haunches next to Spark, and I sensed it: The moment that he’d signaled to his brother for the attack. Yet as they leapt through the air towards me, I didn’t hesitate. I wrenched off my sunglasses, before holding out my handcuffed hands.

  The familiars didn’t stop.

  Then I was being knocked backwards, the air driven from my lungs. I hit my head on the gravel path.

  Rebel’s cries, shrieking whines, and heavy creatures trampling me.

  I shoved at the handfuls of dense fur, until I could sit up. The two foxes crouched, with their ears pressed to their skulls, whining and doing everything but batting their eyelashes at me in submission.

  It’d been a risk, taken on nothing but the urging of the shadows under my skin. A certainty that the familiars would recognize its power.

  Spark nudged his head cautiously into my hand.

  “What did you do?” Rebel murmured. “I’ve never seen them like this.”

  I grinned. “I tamed them.” I stroked Blaze’s back. “They’re mine now.”

  When I slipped on my sunglasses, I was still high: I welcomed the surge of strength. This was flying, no longer prisoner to the dark but mistress of it.

  Until Rebel’s cautious hand on my shoulder. “You’re taking slaves?”

  I surveyed the fox brothers at my feet. Then I ran my hand lightly over their heads, tickling behind Spark’s ears. He glanced up at me, through laughing green eyes. “No, bro, I’m freeing them.”

  I marched back towards the house with the foxes trotting at my heels.