Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  I expected him to pull away — who wouldn’t? — but instead his arms tightened around my neck. His cheek rested against mine: wet and cold.

  I quivered; Rebel’s silent grief sang to the possessive powers inside, who growled for vengeance. Except, the bitch who’d hurt him was me.

  Rebel drew back; his gaze was desperate and despairing, as if I could deny the truth that I’d taken his brother’s hands.

  When I nodded, however, because at least I could admit it now, he bit his lip.

  “Never mind, git angel.” Wings swung, catching me unbalanced in the sweep of his wings. “The princess just isn’t that into you. I don’t know what all the swooning over her is about anyway.” When he shrouded us in his gray wings, I struggled. My jaw clenched against the panic, as he rocked us backwards. Then he whispered, hot and vicious into my ear, “I wouldn’t ride her into battle.”

  Wings wrenched backwards. Finally, we were falling.

  I tried to open my wings in an instinctive attempt to fly. And when had it become so natural? But Wings kept them trapped, and we plummeted to the floor.

  Bang — I screamed when we hit, rolling in a crunch of bones and blood.

  Rebel hollered, trapped beneath me in a feathered tumble. And Wings…? When we stilled, lying in a dazed pile, the psycho laughed.

  “Now that was a ride,” Wings grinned.

  Groaning, I straddled Wings, surging with adrenaline that soared me as high as my battered wings had in imagined flight. “If there’s any riding? I’ll be the bitch doing it. And your brother’s name,” I twisted Wings’ head by the ear, and he squealed, “is Rebel.”

  An explosion of pink and black tumbled me off Wings and onto my back. I stared up at the small teen who was now straddling me.

  Then the world imploded, as I forgot to breathe.

  Jade.

  The sister who’d disappeared on the night that I’d been dragged into the supernatural world by Rebel: not a sister by blood but a sister from the street who I’d adopted to save. My boyfriend had threatened to sell her to settle a debt, and since Jade and I had both fallen out of the children’s home at sixteen, I’d been terrified to lose her to a worse world of slavery.

  Except, had I?

  Because here in the Under Word was the sister who I’d been searching for ever since. The sister Drake had tricked me up into Angel World to find.

  Now here she was in candy pink shorts and black satin top, a sulk of Emo, with her pink-and-black striped fringe brushing against my cheeks…scowling at me and effortlessly holding me down.

  How was she so strong? Plus, her eyes were just a shade too blue, like the other cuckoo kids’.

  She was a Blood Lover: no longer mine, human, or free.

  Did you expect anything in this world to be free?

  Jade…she’s changed.

  And you’re not? You were human when she last saw you, Violet-peeps.

  Were you ever trying to save her? Or a perfect image of a life before the angel fell into your lap?

  The joy that’d burst through me at discovering Jade tasted bitter sweet.

  I clasped onto her arm in case she vanished again. “Hell, you’ve no idea what… How long I’ve been searching… What do you call disappearing like that? Since when did you go off with some bloke without sending me a text?”

  Yeah, so over anxious sister mode had kicked in sooner than expected.

  Jade rolled her eyes, stroking her fingers through my feathers. “You have wings.”

  “And you’re a blood donor to Fangs.”

  Smack — Jade slapped me.

  My head snapped to the side.

  “That’s for his first hand,” she hissed.

  Smack — she slapped me again.

  “And that’s for his second.”

  “I didn’t take any more body parts, did I?” I rubbed at the crimson handprints.

  Then Jade was sobbing in a way that I’d never heard her cry before because if you wanted respect in Hackney you hid the pain. She clung to me, and it hit me in a heady rush: I’d found Jade, and she was in my arms.

  But how the hell did I keep her?

  There was also a trembling ache, however, which rose to a shanking crescendo when her supernaturally bright gaze met mine: Rebel had once told me that I was no longer connected to her. I’d raged against it, but now I knew it’d been the truth.

  The vampires had stolen her away from me. Stolen her humanity.

  I’d kill the bastard who’d violated her, just like I’d always sworn that I’d kill any bastard who’d made her suffer.

  Wings slipped his arms around her shoulders, swinging her onto his lap, as he sat up, before lifting an eyebrow at me. “You stopped at the hands, although you did take my bollocks for a while there.” I froze, gaping at Jade, whilst Wings mouthed kisses down her neck. Then he lazily glanced at me over her head. “Here’s the thing of it, princess, she’s mine.”

  “You’re a fine red mist, bro.” I launched myself towards Wings, but an invisible blast blew me backwards.

  That hadn’t come from Wings.

  I stared at Jade, who scowled at me like I was trying to borrow her favorite skull t-shirt.

  Yeah, not fully human anymore.

  But I had tricks too.

  I stormed back towards them, before cool hands banded around my waist. I looked into Rebel’s troubled gaze.

  “Mind yourself, princess,” Rebel murmured, “this is your sister. The human who we gave everything for…remember?”

  And I did.

  I shuddered, calming the violet, as I relaxed into Rebel’s hold.

  Jade dragged Wings up by the elbow, pacing to face us. She slung her arm around his shoulders, as if we were in a Mexican standoff for siblings.

  Rebel stiffened at the same moment as I did at the shock of seeing his brother and my sister together.

  “Wings is mine too.” Jade mouthed down Wings’ cheek, and I cringed. “How this works? If you kill him, I also die. How’s it feel to know that you almost killed me in London Fields? I suffer the phantom pain of his hands. Does it haunt you? That you did that?”

  I’d have taken a step back, if it hadn’t been for Rebel’s steadying arm around my waist.

  I remembered those times Rebel had faced his brother’s humiliating rejection — once in front of an entire vampire army — and I blanched because my sister’s wounded deeper than the Valkyrie’s arrow.

  The other Blood Lovers were watching now.

  “I’ve done a lot of things. It’s ghost central in my head.” I glanced at Wings. “But your lover must be the engine driver on his own spook train.”

  Jade’s eyes narrowed. I’d forgotten that disapproving of her boyfriend only led to the Romeo and Juliet effect. “He’s a war hero. A courageous leader of a rebellion—”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and can turn water into blood, pisses penicillin, and wears a mask and tights to play superhero at the weekends. He still bites and feeds from you.”

  “I knew you’d be like this. That you wouldn’t understand. Why do you think I left?”

  I hissed. This time it truly was only Rebel holding me up. I rubbed my tears away on my shoulder. I wouldn’t let Wings see me cry. “I’m sorry you didn’t think that you could come to me. But I’m here now—”

  “And you still don’t get it.”

  “I never stopped looking,” I tried again, although it was as if the Jade who I’d known less than a year ago had faded away, and this was someone new speaking with her voice. “Rebel and me both searched. I kept this…” Eagerly, I unclasped the pouch around my neck, which I’d worn since the witches’ house, taking out Jade’s angel necklace. I’d discovered it the day that I’d gone back to the apartment searching for Jade. I held it out for Jade on my palm like an offering to appease a furious spirit. “Take it.”

  Smack — Jade slapped my knuckles, and I curled my hand around the necklace, yelping in shock.

  “I left that behind because I didn’t
want an angel around my neck,” Jade jeered. “I’m not the bitch with the angel obsession. I like my blokes dark, powerful, and Fallen.’

  She swayed in Wings’ arms, and he snogged her.

  Rebel trembled with rage, and suddenly it was me holding him back. “Wise up! Treat your sister with some respect; she loves your ungrateful arse.”

  “She’s an angel lover,” Jade spat; her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

  Hell, it was like looking at a stranger and a bespelled one too.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked, slipping the necklace back into the pouch and tying it around my neck as reverentially as if it contained my sister’s ashes.

  Jade lifted Wings’ arm, even though he squirmed, flushing. “Can you give back my lover’s hands?” I looked away. “Didn’t reckon so.”

  Had she chosen this? I’d been dragged into the supernatural world but had my sister embraced it? If she had — mental, destructive, and unhealthy as I reckoned it was — did I have any right to go against that choice?

  Suddenly, I realized that the other Blood Lovers weren’t merely watching anymore, they’d moved closer, circling us along the outline of the empire map. Their eyes had darkened: guarded and malevolent.

  Were they connected behind those eyes: their thoughts and emotions?

  I shuddered.

  Ash and Mischief hung between them, passed like a spliff to be toyed with. Mischief was barely conscious.

  I growled: no bastard way they were treating my fam like that. At what point had Mischief wriggled under my skin to earn that title?

  “Whatever’s happened…we were raised human. I struggle with this too, Jade, but you’ve more humanity in you than I have. You can’t think that this is—”

  Jade shrugged. “They’re captured angels. A Seducer. We’re allowed to play with them.”

  The Blood Lovers slunk closer. Was my baby sister their leader?

  Jade had always had swag. Except, now she was auditioning for my nemesis, so maybe I shouldn’t have worked so hard on building her self-esteem.

  “And I want to play with your punk.” Jade snatched for Rebel.

  Rebel jumped, alarmed, and I blocked Jade’s hand, only for her to wrench my arm up behind my back.

  “You love him?” She asked, surprised.

  “Let’s put my love life in the none of your business drawer, shut it, lock it tight, and never speak of it again.”

  She huffed. “But you’re not drinking from him?”

  “Because nothing says I love you like ripping out someone’s throat.”

  When Jade twisted my arm, I stilled; it was almost like she was young again, and we were back in Jerusalem Children’s Home fighting over a Marvel comic.

  “Wings feeds from me because he loves me. He’d die without me. Literally.” Jade frowned. “I’ve never been needed like that. Romance is for kids. But being needed…”

  I winced. Because I got it then.

  To be needed…

  As orphans, we hadn’t even been wanted. Jade’s search had always been for some purpose, identity, meaning…and she’d found it in the arms of a vampire. How could I break her belief that she’d found her place — become something special — with someone who needed her at last? Even if she’d been brainwashed with lies and hope?

  Maybe that was better than being human for her?

  “Epic.” I forced myself to smile. “I’m happy for you, you get me?”

  Jade’s expression softened. She finally shoved me back towards Rebel. “Why aren’t you feeding from your sissy boy? Angel Blood Lovers are meant to be hot.”

  I glared at her. “Not happening. Plus, I don’t have pointy teeth in the fang department.”

  Jade stroked down Wings’ jeans, and he arched. “Not yet. But you’re half vampire. They told me.”

  I stiffened. Jade had known that I was here…? “Then what’s up with not seeing me…?” I burst out.

  Jade brushed her fingers through her fringe. “Don’t they tell you anything, princess? We can’t leave. This is our home. Where we’re safe.”

  Home? This was their bastard prison...

  Because the king wouldn’t want the Blood Lovers, lost in their whirl of sex and blood, to discover the truth of the Under World: The Bone Carnival, Cage, Ossuary, and Charnel House…

  There was a sudden murmuring flurry amongst the Blood Lovers, before they parted, and Wild, streaked in scarlet and ashes (the cremated remains of the angels who’d showered down under the king’s light), marched so close to me that his copper breath blew across my nose.

  “You big soft babby,” he chided, crossing his brawny arms, “saving those angel kids. Our deal was that you fought on the side of the Fallen, but you broke that. There’s nothing more serious in the Under World than breaking a bargain or a bet.”

  “Did you just come here to lecture the pants off me or…?” I grasped Rebel’s hand, however, and the way that he encircled me with his arms, told me more than any words Wild could say.

  I was screwed.

  “I’m here to take you to your father.” Wild nodded, and a gang of FF flooded into the bar. “Congratulations, wench, you’ve won an invitation to the Bone Palace. Let King Lucifer cleanse you with his light.”

  Lucifer?

  I’d known my dad was king but not that he was the original Fallen angel — Lucifer himself.

  I shook, backing away, as Wild advanced. I glanced at my sister, but she’d pressed her face against Wild’s chest.

  Was she…crying?

  I remembered the light, burning everything before it into ashes and quailed.

  At last, I’d meet the bastard who’d abandoned me. Except, he was Lucifer, he lived in a Bone Palace, and I’d pissed him off enough to be burned alive.

  10

  Two things I’d always known about blokes: they were bastards and they were bastards who ditched you.

  My dad had left me on a gravestone as a baby and had never appeared in the sparkling perfection that I’d dreamed to rescue me from the children’s home.

  There was a fortune to be made from a vaccination jab against blokes: safe from abandonment with a tiny prick.

  And it turned out, my dad — Lucifer — was also a tiny prick.

  I shifted from foot-to-foot on the polished skull floor of the Bone Palace. The heat in the graffitied bedroom baked me like I was the gingerbread man toasty in the oven. I stared at my boots, ignoring the vast white bed in the center of the room and my dad who was sprawled on it. Sweat collected at the base of my neck. My hand itched towards Star.

  ANARCHY, CHAOS, LIGHT.

  The spray-painted words blazed across the stark walls, between femurs and ribs, which stuck out of the concrete and glowed.

  When a chill prickled my neck, I was trapped in my vision again.

  My land: violet feathers above glowing bones. Here in the Under World, it was made life: Real.

  Was I truly doomed to rule a world of blood and feathers? A tyrant like my parents?

  I sank beneath the soft waves, choking on the feathers. They were in my lungs. I couldn’t breathe…

  J, I’m suffocating on my own Disney kingdom.

  And I’m quaking in my fabulousness. This is the King of the Under World: Lucifer, the Light-bringer.

  I’m hiding myself deep where the light doesn’t shine.

  Disturbing as you’ve made that sound, how about saving me first?

  J…? Are you that much of a scaredy-cat? Is Lucifer that much more terrifying than the Matriarch?

  I let out a sob, spluttering feathers. My chest burned. And I was alone.

  Until I wasn’t.

  “On my fangs, we’ll have to teach you to control your little dreams,” a seductive murmur, which ended on a giggle, broke sharply into my vision like a shank popping a bubble.

  Then I was tumbling out of mid-air with a squawk, landing on the center of the satin four-poster bed, and Lucifer was scrambling onto me, every miniature incubus-like slink of him.
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  Lucifer’s tiny legs (in even tinier black leather shorts), rested either side of me. His leather shirt hung open, revealing the word FIRE branded from one pink nipple to the other. I flinched, but it was true: he even smelled of bonfires. The warmth of his wings rested against my cheek; the autumnal aroma was so comforting that I rubbed against him.

  His bare toes curled, as he purred.

  I stiffened: why the hell was I so drawn to him? What had he done?

  I wished Lucifer’s spiky ash-blond hair didn’t match my own, and I could pretend that he wasn’t my real dad.

  Especially after my mum had told me that he’d forced her…

  Crack — I backhanded Lucifer, and he fell to the side with a startled yelp.

  I shuddered: how often did you bitchslap Lucifer?

  Lucifer pushed himself up amongst the silk pillows, wiping the blood away with his thumb, before sucking at it. He eyed me with pride. “Badass. You’re full of tricks, aren’t you, champ? Not many can resist my spark. I’d always hoped…” He wrung the edges of the pillow between his delicate fingers. Was this truly the same bloke who’d decimated the angel army? Who’d petrified J into hiding? “Huh, I didn’t think that I’d come over all cry-baby about it, but it’s been hell watching the Bone Carnival and not, you know…”

  “You watched me?” I shoved myself onto my elbows, hating the whining hope in my voice.

  The Matriarch hadn’t been the warm maternal sort; she’d been an Ice Bitch. No matter how I’d tried to change to be the princess she’d wanted, I’d never have been the daughter that she’d wanted.

  And hell did that smart.

  But Lucifer…? What he seemed to be offering was everything the Matriarch hadn’t…but I knew there’d be a price.

  If Lucifer could hold sway over you with a spark, how long had I been under its control?

  “You think that I’d have missed my own daughter’s debut? You were the show’s greatest spectacle!” Lucifer rose onto his knees in excitement.

  He looked no older than me, although I knew he must be centuries old. Only when I caught the flames flaring in his eyes — twin suns — did I recognize the howling power that transformed angels to ash: it was like peering into infinity.

  “I’m not a freakshow,” I muttered.