Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  I’m asking, J. The bitch has brainwashed the kid.

  You’re asking but not the right question.

  You were ready to die to save the human world, what would you sacrifice to stop genocide?

  Who would I sacrifice? This is Rebel’s brother. And what’s with the genocide rant?

  If you become the Matriarch’s weapon…? BAM! You’ll be the star of the Mage’s show, and he’s the one running the genocide campaign.

  Would a princess risk the lives of so many, for the life of a single child?

  Ash said the same about Drake. How can I lose Haman as well? One shot. Please, J?

  Static tingled along my face, up my cheeks, and in migraine bursts through the socket of my violet eye.

  Haman had almost reached the Matriarch.

  I blinked, focusing the sparks and gasping as they surged up my throat, through my eye, and then out in a dazzling ray.

  Had I hit Haman and shaken him back to himself?

  Halos blurred my sight, but when they settled, I shook.

  Haman was cradled in the Matriarch’s arms, and the wall behind sizzled.

  I’d missed.

  Rebel struggled madly; his breath hitched with sobs.

  I lurched, plunging down. “Bastard stop before I crash-land.”

  “We have to save him,” Rebel pleaded; his kohl-smudged eyes were wet. “I only just found him. I-I’m his big brother… I didn’t look out for him…”

  When I shook my head, soaring up and through the shaft, Rebel hollered.

  “Sweet Christ, he’ll think that I’ve abandoned him… She can take me instead… Please, please, princess…”

  I soothed calming emotions through the Mark, but Rebel’s anguished gaze sang of betrayal, even as his eyes became heavy, and his head rested on my chest.

  We’d escaped, but the blood ritual had demanded a sacrifice: One that Rebel had paid.

  Would he ever forgive me, or had I just turned him into my most dangerous enemy?

  Tear-tinged dawn wept over an Arthurian valley in a swirl of mists, as I crumpled to the rocky lakeshore.

  A furious orange sunrise broke across the fanged peaks, reflected in a twin dawn across the lake’s waters.

  I crouched over Rebel, who I’d laid on a mossy bed.

  Hell, I’d broken him at last.

  He curled over; his eyes were red-rimmed. “Take me back.”

  I stroked across his cheek, but he flinched. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  Rebel’s brow furrowed. “I knelt for you but I…” He studied me searchingly, before he turned away, tracing his finger over his collar. “I don’t know you.”

  Rebel had abandoned me. The snap of rejection echoed through the bond.

  I quivered, scrambling against a fallen tree trunk; I scraped my palms over the rough bark because otherwise I was falling, lost, and alone…

  Just like Haman.

  Above, the Blood Angels streamed — scarlet birds — towards the dawn. They had their mission, and I had mine.

  Behind, quick footfalls, and then Ash’s chuckle and Harahel’s chatter.

  “Reporting from scouting duty.” Ash slunk around an outcrop of rock with his hands in the pockets of his army coat.

  Ash had fallen back into his Brigadier — leader — role as soon as we’d soared through the shafts and out of Angel World. He wasn’t the prisoner trapped in his enemy’s cell, and I wasn’t the princess, daughter of the bitch in charge.

  That changed everything.

  Yet stinking in a dress encrusted with my own blood, after a day and night battling in The Pit and against vampires, it was all changing too fast.

  These weren’t my Poly-Wings any more.

  I shivered, rubbing my hands across my goose pimpled arms.

  Ash shucked off his army jacket. He ghosted the back of his hand across my dappled feathers, and I leaned into the touch, before folding my wings. Then he draped his coat around me, and I melted into the warmth.

  Ash eyed Rebel, who lay staring out at the humped rocks that rose above the dawn burned lake like sea serpents. “Cave: has potential for a Fallen with photophobia. It’s just along the shore, and we’ll just have time to find out each other’s dirty secrets.”

  He wound his fingers in Harahel’s curls, nuzzling his neck. Harahel pushed Ash away with a swipe across his nose and a grin.

  Last night, I’d been princess, top boy, god…

  This morning…?

  I was the bastard outsider.

  Had any of the Matriarch’s offered power been real, or had the control in Angel World been nothing but contaminated fairy dust?

  Waking up with heaven’s supernatural hangover was a bitch.

  “Whatever, bro.” I didn’t look up, tracing my fingers down Rebel’s spine through his jacket; he was still too thin.

  “This has never been about hiding, Violet.” Ash’s voice: too strained and tight.

  Harahel gasped and then whimpered.

  I sighed, closing my eyes as if I could wish it away: Ash’s betrayal.

  “You’re not Han.” I opened my eyes, pushing myself up to face Ash, who held his gun to Harahel’s temple with his shaky finger on the trigger. “You’re bastard Lando.”

  Ash blanched but he wrapped his other arm around Harahel’s throat. When Harahel choked, Rebel twisted back to watch.

  “It’s about choosing a side.” Ash hesitated, and for a moment, I thought that he’d drop the shooter, but instead he only adjusted its snout, until it bit even more sharply into Harahel’s skin. “I failed. I wish that I could be the guy you think I am but I’m everything the angels sneer. A worthless screw buddy. And now you’ll hate me too.”

  Harahel gagged, struggling onto tiptoe. When he sought out my gaze, I knew that he was about to go Rambo.

  I couldn’t risk losing him too. When I shook my head, he stilled.

  “Dry up. What did you do?” Rebel’s plea vibrated with fury but also an agonized understanding: one Judas to another.

  Ash swallowed, glancing between us. “I’m sorry.”

  The swarm of gray soared between the mountains that were painted in the shades of the roiling dawn and then over the lake towards us.

  Ash intended to hand us to the vampires.

  How long had he planned this?

  Ash’s coat around my shoulders suddenly weighed me down like shackles. I chucked it off, stamping the heel of my boot into the gleaming buttons and grinding the sleeves into the mud.

  Ash flinched.

  “Fly away,” Harahel hissed. “I’m still your Trainer and I’m ordering you to fly.”

  You heard the apple-scented sweetie: unfold those wings and make for the heavens.

  Ash said that I have to choose a side.

  So, the vampires want me? Then they can have me. I’ll rip them Hackney-style apart until I find my sister.

  But my side? It’s with my fam. I’d never save myself, leaving Harahel and Rebel to face the vampires alone. If you don’t get that, then you’re not on my list.

  You cut my poor heart. Because I’ll always be on your side.

  Ash tensed. His gaze softened, as if he wanted me to fly.

  Instead, I swaggered closer. “The bastard Lando is right.” Ash winced. “The Blood Princess doesn’t hide or abandon her fam.”

  Ash let up the pressure on Harahel’s neck. “Violet…”

  “Silence, Seducer.” Albino swooped down from the storm cloud gathering of vampires above. His hair was caught at his nape and swung to his waist, whilst his leather coat flapped behind him: a dark Legolas. “Or do I need to cut out that clever tongue of yours?”

  Ash ducked his head, but I stumbled backwards.

  Images flashed through me of the battle: Albino snapping Eah’s neck and then tossing her corpse off his claws like old food caught between his teeth.

  I flamed, burning bright.

  Rebel’s hand inched into mine. “Mind yourself,” he murmured, “control it.”

  My cheeks
flushed. Even in his grief, I’d been wrong to imagine that Rebel had fully abandoned me.

  Once a Custodian, always a Custodian.

  I nodded but gritted my teeth at Harahel’s wail.

  Albino had wound silver chains that wrenched Harahel’s elbows too high behind his back.

  Ash held out his hand for the other chains.

  Albino tutted. “Speak. I love your tongue too much to ever do worse than gag you, my Seducer.”

  “May I bind the others, General Trick?” Ash asked.

  Was Ash trying to make sure that Rebel and I weren’t hurt like Harahel had been? I couldn’t help loving Ash, and I was certain that he hadn’t been acting back in the Hollow when he’d knelt. Yet why had he betrayed us?

  “What will you pay me for the privilege?” Trick’s bone-white fingers played across Ash’s hand, as he trailed a chain snake-like across his palm. “But then, you only have one thing you ever pay with, don’t you?” Trick’s words slipped out like the tip of an oiled blade.

  Ash had given us up, but I could cut out Trick’s tongue for the way that he was insulting him.

  No wonder Ash had hated that I’d Marked Rebel.

  Ash backed away, but Trick tipped him over the fallen log. When Trick ran his hand slowly down the front of Ash’s jeans, Ash panted, turning away.

  To my surprise, Rebel growled.

  “Enough of the cheap fang-on-fang porno, chains won’t shackle themselves.” I held my hands behind my back.

  Albino shoved Ash off the log on top of Rebel, hurling a chain at the back of Ash’s head. Ash yelped but then wound the silver loosely around Rebel’s wrists. When Rebel nudged his knee against Ash’s, their gazes met; Ash grabbed Rebel in a desperate embrace, as if he was about to face the block.

  Maybe he bastard was.

  “This is why I don’t trust Fallen anymore,” Rebel muttered, but even though the words should’ve been for Ash, his piercing gaze told me that they were for me, “not even half ones.”

  I winced. Then I shook my wrists. “Where are my bracelets?”

  “Why? Are you dangerous?” The dawn light sparked off the hoop piercings in Trick’s nose and ears, until he blazed. “You’re half Fallen, as the angel Addict says, and I’m merely here to escort you to your rightful home. These…” He gestured at Rebel and Harahel. “Are the enemy. Unless you’re loyal to them?”

  Trick’s hooded smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were framed by white lashes.

  “She escaped Angel World, General.” Ash threw Rebel back, striding to Trick. He paced up and down, hugging himself. “She hated that corrupt court. The first Broken rebellion ever kicked off because of her! Don’t hurt—”

  Trick snagged Ash by his mane, wrenching back his head, as he forced him to his knees. “Down, Seducer. What makes you imagine that she will be the one hurt?”

  Ash twisted, shooting me a panicked glance. “Then carve me bloody, but don’t tell her—”

  “So coy. Have you enjoyed playing hero? The brave man, when you are so much less?” Each word shanked from the knife-tongued bastard; ribbons fluttered from Ash at each slice, until he cowered. “Queen Miniel believes herself the slyest player, but we have equal strategists moving our pawns. When she demanded our Seducer as hostage, he was already in debt to us for his naughty disloyalty of fighting by your side at London Fields. Weak as he is, it took little to break him to his true place: seducing you into escaping.”

  I blinked away hot tears. Had Rebel known? Had any of the Wings?

  “He was our Trojan Horse with the one job to carry you back to the King of the Under World.” When Ash tried to lower his chin, Trick gripped it, squeezing until he moaned.

  King of the Under World?

  Queen of Angel World had sounded freaky-arsed, but King of the Under World was a freakshow in the Land of Crazy.

  And ding, ding, next stop Land of Crazy.

  “Mixing up your classics, bro.” I shook my head. “An old bastard like you should know that.”

  Trick’s eyes flashed. “I’m no older than… But such a shame with one so talented; you didn’t escape. Not when we sent in the first assault. And only when we attacked full-scale. So, what am I to think? Has my Seducer lost his skills? Or did he disobey?”

  Ash’s chest heaved, battling to hold back the despair widening his dark eyes, as Trick held his chin and hair in a punishing grip.

  I marched to Trick, clouting him in the nose. Blood sprayed, crimson against the milk-white of his skin. Trick let go of Ash, clutching his face and stumbling backwards over a boulder into the moss.

  Flight whined. I drew her out, sizzling an arc at Ash’s throat.

  Harahel dived towards us, and Rebel stumbled up from his knees.

  Ash didn’t cringe away. When fire seared his throat, he leaned into the flame. “Burn me. Cleanse me. Kill me…” Tears trembled on the ends of his eyelashes. “Please, kill me.”

  Rebel and Harahel were at my shoulder, but I didn’t hear their frantic pleading.

  I just heard… Kill me…

  I sheathed Flight, and Ash fell forward with his arms over his head as at last, he was unable to hide his sobs.

  “Why would I help you?” My wings prickled and burnt fever hot. “You want to kneel for someone? Go back and kneel for the Fangs.” I ached to reach out to Ash and kiss away his tears…to take it back…but the army of vampires above our heads, the chains around my angel blokes, and the promised trip to the Under World, forced me to turn to Trick instead. “Honored guest here. How about getting with the escorting?”

  Trick hopped up, sweeping me a bow; scarlet dripped onto his lips from his nose, and he licked it off with his wormlike tongue, before smiling. “Princess, I’d be most delighted. We must wait out the wicked sun today in the caves.” His voice was more nasal now around his shattered nose than knife-like. “Then tonight the king would have my wings if I did not deliver you quite whole. Although,” his smile widened, “I do not promise the same for the angels.”

  “No touching rule, Legolas, or I’ll break your cock too.” I caught both Harahel’s and Rebel’s chains in my hands, as if they were my prisoners.

  Trick tapped his foot. “Possessive, fierce, and fiery. There’s no doubt that you are your father’s daughter.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mr Delusional, I don’t know my Fang dad, and after my Ice Bitch of a mum, I’m doing a happy dance over that.”

  Trick gaped, before grinning. “So sorry to break short your dance, princess. The king is your father. Although, I’m delighted to be the one to congratulate you first on finding your long-lost daddy.”

  Frozen, I swayed. The world stuttered to an alarming stop.

  When it started again lake, mountains, fallen trunk, boulders, angels and vampires, churned in sickening chaos, until I dropped to my knees.

  …These Fallen spies are here to save you. After all, Violet, you’re our princess too…

  Ash had tried to warn me, just as J had called me Vampire Princess. But I hadn’t listened, too caught up in the role of wearing one crown alone.

  When Trick chuckled, my wings spread out behind me.

  My mum was a queen, and my dad was…the King of Hell? Then I’d show these vampires the princess that I’d become.

  I sprang to my feet. Fire fizzed down my arms, over my palms, and flared through my wings.

  Trick’s chuckle died; he stepped back.

  I blazed as dawn was born over the Welsh valley. “Lead on, bitch.”

  I was a huntress. A princess. And now the daughter of the devil too?

  But I was also a monster.

  Daddy was in for a bastard surprise.

  The End…For Now

  Continue Violet’s adventures in VAMPIRE DEVIL, Book 3 in the Rebel Angels Series.

  https://rosemaryajohns.com

  If you enjoyed Vampire Princess: Rebel Angels Book 2, let me know by leaving a review!

  Thanks, you’re awesome!

  Author Note

 
I wrote Vampire Princess because I wanted to create a unique world for the angels, where the Glories were dominant and badass…and where Violet would be forced to face that side of her nature. I’ve also been excited about writing a matriarchal society since I was a kid. Plus, I got to write velociraptors…what’s not awesome about that…?!

  I hope you follow the series to the end with me…next stop is the Under World. I can’t wait for you to discover the world of the Fallen Angels. I had so much fun writing it and sharing more of the characters’ back story…as well as the secret of Violet’s dad. I hope you love it too!

  Thanks, you’re awesome - my Rebel family :)

  Rosemary A Johns

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  Vampire Devil

  VAMPIRE DEVIL: REBEL ANGELS BOOK THREE © copyright 2018 Rosemary A Johns

  www.rosemaryajohns.com

  First edition 2018

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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