Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

Crack — I shrieked, as my elbow fractured.

  I’d saved the Bones, stopped an apocalypse in the human world, and pulled off a rebellion headed by Misrule and Harahel… If I died in Lucifer’s Light now, then better a dead rebel, than a living tyrant. Yet with this power, Lucifer could recapture the Bones, overturn the revolution, and plot another apocalypse…and I’d be just another slain monster.

  “B-bastard s-s-stop,” I chattered through frozen lips.

  Lucifer didn’t even raise his head, only covered it with his arms.

  “I believe that the princess requested you to stop.” Drake sauntered between the snaking lights that trapped us, even though I could see beneath the swag to his stumbling step and tight-lipped expression; his seared chest and blackened wings must’ve been agonizing. His gaze met mine, questioning and concerned, before it snapped to Lucifer and became as cold as the light around me. “Enough of this tantrum. Calm yourself.”

  I snorted. Drake had some balls. Then I realized: he wasn’t talking to Lucifer as if he was a king but as one Marked Wing to another.

  Why did that chill me, even worse than the shivers that wracked me?

  Finally, Lucifer raised his face from the pillows; he blinked, confused.

  The light warmed, and I shuddered at the tingling rush of blood to my limbs.

  “You…?” Lucifer suddenly looked young…lost, like me. “You know, I’m not open for meetings with cute angel boys today; I’m…busy.” He tried for a leer, but it didn’t hide the hitch at the end of the sentence.

  “Withdraw your light from the princess and her…” Drake hesitated, “…family, and I promise that you shan’t suffer in your capture.”

  Lucifer laughed but it was only to cover the sob. “And after? You know better than any, don’t you Marked, why I have to say catch me!”

  I hollered, as Lucifer spun the light towards himself like a spider pulling in its thread. Ash and Rebel whirled towards him at the same time as me, until we tumbled on top of Lucifer like a shield.

  I stared down into my dad’s eyes and could pretend…just for a moment…that he wasn’t a genocidal psycho who I’d betrayed.

  And that he hadn’t just spared our lives.

  Lucifer pressed his hand to my cheek. His light slipped back into his body, and I breathed out, as my fingers and toes heated.

  “As you like. Of course, I shan’t be able to catch you,” Drake called. “I believe, however, that my father shall.”

  Lucifer paled, and his lips twisted with fear. He clutched my shoulders, as if I was his Protector.

  I hadn’t expected Drake’s smug my dad could fight your dad. Or my own desire to snarl back: oh yeah, him and whose army?

  The Mage already had an angelic army, however, that’s what happened when you made deals with your enemy.

  The Mage swooped through the archway into the Crypt; his wings flamed in majesty. He scrutinized Lucifer, crackling with candyfloss power. An invisible wave ebbed like heat around his harem trousers and emerald shirt. When he tilted his head, his silver threaded golden curls fell across his eyes.

  Then he raised his hands.

  And this was the moment: the one Drake had promised that I wouldn’t miss.

  Why did I wish I could hide under the sheets and make the monsters vanish? Why were my hands trembling?

  Rebel and Ash dived over the side of the bed. Rebel’s hand around my ankle jerked me after him to the floor. I hollered, landing on my elbow, before bottom shuffling against the wall.

  The Mage shot an invisible blast at Lucifer, who pushed himself to his knees, catching the attack with his crossed forearms. When the Mage had tried that on me in the Legions’ chambers in Angel World, I’d been paralyzed. Lucifer only grimaced, however, shooting out a flare of his own light and shoving back.

  The Mage soared closer, blasting again.

  Stalemate.

  Lucifer quivered, whilst he kept up his stream of light, which arced as it met the Mage’s in a deadly rainbow. “You always hated me, Rahab. With all my sweet spies, don’t you think I know how you whispered in the Matriarch’s ear? You wish that you’d been born a Glory, so you play at it with your boys. Aw, did I hurt your feelings? At least I offered the Wings a choice to Fall. You’re just a cog in a wheel that crushes them.”

  “Hush, little king.” The Mage hovered over Lucifer like an eagle over a sparrow. I stiffened. “I should fry your tongue for speaking of my boys. And only one of us is the King of Spies.” The Mage’s voice lowered. “I shall tear apart your mind before I steal your light. Aw, did I hurt your feelings…?”

  “You steal my kingdom, daughter…” Lucifer’s light flickered, as he glanced at me. “…and now you’d dare threaten…?”

  I couldn’t bastard take it.

  Shoving myself up, violet swirled through me: not righteousness to revenge, but to save Lucifer from the Mage’s torment. I wasn’t an assassin, and Rebel had taught me as a huntress to go for the quick kill. If Lucifer was to die, I wouldn’t let him be played with first, even if it shanked my heart to bolt flames that skittered down my arms and from my palms at Lucifer’s head.

  Lucifer screamed, bucking. Hit by the twin lights, he fought to divide his light but taken by surprise, his light faded, and he fell back amongst the silk.

  Paralyzed.

  The Mage flicked his wrist at me, knocking my fire exploding against the wall, whilst his blasts still shot through Lucifer’s motionless body.

  I shuddered at Lucifer’s wails.

  “Stop,” I growled at the Mage. “Finish it, or we’re Geneva Conventioning from now on.”

  The Mage arched a pale eyebrow. “Have you forgotten the power that I hold over every prideful angel? I believe that it now includes you…?”

  I swallowed. The bastard had me.

  The shimmering wave that had been torturing Lucifer, however, disappeared. Lucifer remained still; his chest rapidly rose and fell.

  The gaze Lucifer shot me floored me with the depth of its sorrow. “Yay for you: you’ve trapped me and stolen my daughter’s love.” Lucifer carefully didn’t look at me this time. “So, that’s everything. All out of owie places to be knifed. This is as good a time as any to decapitate me.”

  The Mage landed on the bed, straddling Lucifer. He stroked Lucifer’s hair back from his forehead. “I haven’t taken everything from you yet, little king. I have only begun your chastisement. Don’t you remember what happens next?”

  Lucifer’s eyes widened. “Uh-uh… Y-y-ou can’t… S-she’s not…”

  Terror.

  So, that’s what it looked like.

  Why was I flooded with the feeling that I’d invited in the wrong devil?

  All of a sudden, the bones glowed shocking violet.

  Boom.

  An echoing rumble rocked the chamber. Ash caught me, holding me upright in his wings.

  Please, no, it couldn’t bastard be…

  That wasn’t the deal. She hadn’t been invited to the party…

  Regal in a pearl-like dress with a train that slithered behind her in iridescent perfection, my mum stood in the archway in frosty silence. I’d forgotten how tall the Matriarch was, and how much of an Ice Bitch, casting me a haughty glance, before tossing her ash-blonde hair, which cascaded to the floor with gray feathers woven into the strands.

  Blood-tipped feathers.

  How had I forgotten the savagery of the angels?

  I backed away, whilst only flickers of violet still curled on my skin.

  Ash edged in front of me, drawing his shooter, just as Rebel flamed alive Eclipse.

  I’d belonged to the Matriarch like a precious weapon, and I’d turned on her, freeing her Broken slaves, abandoning her offer of the world and escaping instead. The bitch had to want her vengeance moment, and here I was: elbow and nose shattered, half-frozen, and cornered, whilst she had the Mage and Drake in her corner.

  Yeah, no more bargains with devils for me.

  “Haman,” Rebel breathed, “my broth
er… Please, take me instead…”

  The Matriarch ignored him. After all, he was a Marked Wing, an Addict, Imperfect, and a Son of the Fallen in her warped view. What right had Rebel to talk to a Glory and a queen?

  An Angel Princess on the other hand…?

  “You stole Haman, bitch, and we want him back,” I growled.

  The Matriarch’s mouth twitched at one corner, before she cast me a steely glare. “You miss him as your Poly-Wing? Return with me to Angel World then. The toy’s agony has been delectable.”

  Rebel let out a sob; Eclipse shook in his hand. I didn’t miss either Drake or the Mage’s flinch either: Haman had been a servant to the Legion, shielded and indulged even if still enslaved. But not a Glory’s toy.

  Clack, clack, clack.

  The Matriarch’s diamond stilettos rapped against the floor like she was trying to crack the skulls or break Lucifer’s balls from the way that she was giving him the death stare.

  Unable to draw back, Lucifer’s breaths became so shallow and fast that he trembled on the edge of panic attack.

  And I knew how that felt.

  The Mage lounged back onto the end of the bed, resting up on his elbow, as if they were lovers.

  I clenched my fists because there was no way to doubt Lucifer’s version — kidnapped, forced, child stolen from him — when faced by the Matriarch’s predatory prowl around the bed and slink in her satins across him.

  Or how she spoke about Haman.

  The Matriarch circled one finger over the back of Lucifer’s neck, where his Mark would’ve been before he burned it off. Where she could’ve inflicted pain or unwilling pleasure without even touching, just as I’d seen her punish Drake.

  Drake looked away, refusing to meet my eye.

  Trapped underneath the queen’s finery, Lucifer looked so much smaller.

  “I am not y-yours anymore.” Lucifer’s eyes glistened with tears. I hated to hear him stammer. “You d-don’t own me.”

  “I d-don’t?” The Matriarch mocked. “By my feathers, you’ll become mine again, and we shall have such dark amusements. Your fear is a sweet treat, my star. And your pain soars on the wings of corrupted love.” Her tongue flicked out, as if tasting the air. When she twisted to me, my stomach lurched. “So, you fly in my shadow after all, baby bird? You rule with love and force your slaves to drink its poison.”

  I blanched. “I’ll never be a slaveowner, bitch.”

  The Matriarch shifted her hips against Lucifer’s, sliding her fingers along his wing tips. “How do you imagine you defeated this naughty boy?”

  Snap — she twisted Lucifer’s sensitive wingtips.

  Lucifer yowled, but she swallowed it in a kiss, forcing her tongue between his lips, as he lay bound by the Mage and unable to struggle.

  Is this how she’d forced him last time?

  I shivered because what if she was right? Had I used my angelic power of corrupted love to destroy Lucifer?

  “Enough gross mum and dad kinkiness before I have to bleach my eyeballs.” When I booted the bed, the Matriarch broke the kiss. “I didn’t go running to you for help, so you can just take your arse back to Angel World. He’s not yours.”

  The Matriarch’s eyes sparked. “Soon, my daughter, you’ll receive the firm hand that you’re begging for to learn to fly true. Yet now I have a Fallen’s wings to clip.”

  She drew out a golden vial that swung at her belt; a Merlin falcon was engraved on the front.

  Lucifer’s eyes widened impossibly larger. “Please… Mark, beat, brand me…but don’t take away my light.”

  Brand?

  The Matriarch traced over the FIRE that had been branded from one nipple to the other on Lucifer’s chest. Hell, had that been punishment? Not a declaration of freedom, but her control? And what kind of magic…and how much pain…did it take to brand an angel?

  No wonder the bastards had rebelled.

  The Matriarch wrenched back Lucifer’s head, forcing open his mouth. Then she opened the bottle and tipped out a single sapphire drop.

  When Lucifer gagged and his eyes rolled back, his sweet aroma of ash and bonfires was put out, replaced by the Matriarch’s rich myrrh. A chill blue crept through his veins; his breath ghosted in icy puffs.

  I guessed by the pained panting that the sapphire poison wasn’t a fun day at the carnival.

  The Matriarch tied the vial back onto her belt, before bending over Lucifer. His blue tinge had faded. “No more fire, my star,” she whispered.

  I shuddered. Why did it bother me that Lucifer’s flames had been taken from him? Did she have a toxin that could steal my fire? I tried to catch Drake’s eye, but he bowed his head, refusing to watch.

  Whatever Lucifer suffered, Drake would be suffering it right alongside him. I was desperate to save Drake, when he’d already risked so much to help me.

  “When I Mark you,” the Matriarch bit down on Lucifer’s throat, sucking bruises, “I’ll make such use of you, boy, that you’ll wish I was the harsh Glory you believed me before. You’ll put on delicious shows and learn that a Wing’s place is on his knees.”

  “Let me introduce you: this is King of the Underworld. And I rather think that he’s neither one of your Wings, nor the kneeling type.” Mischief soared into the chamber, landing next to Lucifer’s bedside.

  A guttural gekkering, and Blaze and Spark burst into the chamber, winding around Mischief’s ankles in red blurs as if he was their Keeper.

  “Mischief, my darling pet, run,” Lucifer hissed. “I’m in the middle of being…stabbed in the back…poisoned…kidnapped…all the fun party games.”

  It was like Lucifer believed Mischief was the only one who hadn’t betrayed him. Lucifer’s gaze softened as it met Mischief’s, shining with…love.

  Despite the hunts, threats, and naming him pet, Lucifer had truly intended to Blood Bond willingly with Mischief: A Shadow.

  How much of Lucifer’s cruelty had been his official face? Why hadn’t I guessed the truth behind the carnival masks? Because despite betraying the king, Mischief was walking into the fire now to save him from the Matriarch; he couldn’t see that happen to him.

  To anyone.

  At last, righteousness sparked through me. I nodded at Mischief, and he smiled.

  “Lucifer’s a king. He belongs in the Under World, so that he can be put on trial.’ I grimaced because the Fire Catacombs seemed the most likely bet for vampire justice, rather than picking up litter by the roadside. “Their prisoner, their sentence.”

  The Matriarch cradled Lucifer in her arms possessively like a child. “By my wing, you’ll be glorious, ruling and destroying worlds. But you shan’t take what’s mine.”

  When Mischief hollered, it changed into a whinny, as he transformed into a killer unicorn. He snorted, stamping his hooves at the Matriarch. Blaze and Spark leapt onto the bed, snapping for her throat, just as Mischief lowered his horn.

  When the Mage raised his hands, I shot a firebolt towards him, but Drake jumped in front of it. The flames caught his shoulders, and he screamed, writhing on the floor, as his back blistered.

  The Mage continued to spin his spell to vanish the Matriarch with Lucifer clutched to her chest…just as Mischief had sensed.

  I stared at the empty space where my parents had been. Then I howled, shooting out another sizzling arc. I’d never wanted to send my dad back to life as a Wing with the Matriarch. Lucifer had rebelled to save the Wings from such cruelty, and now he’d suffer for it.

  The Mage grabbed Mischief by the horn and shrank him toy size. The unicorn swung from his hand, mewling.

  I stilled, allowing the violet to die down.

  What was the point of fighting? Lucifer was gone. I’d won. So, why did it bastard feel like I’d also lost?

  Smack — the Mage whacked Mischief across his rump.

  Mischief’s eyes screwed up in pain, and his hooves kicked the air.

  “I hope that my boy entertained you.” The Mage shook the unicorn, and Mischief transfor
med back into an angel who was held by the scruff of the neck; I winced. “He can be charming, if he has a mind to be.”

  I nodded to Ash and Rebel, who finally put away their weapons, although they looked almost as shaken as me.

  “Congratulations, you may return home.” The Mage studied his son, as Drake pulled himself shakily to his knees…as if he hadn’t just saved the Mage from my flames. “Your fondness for the princess will make for an interesting training tool. The Matriarch has allowed me to borrow you, whilst the princess is an Apprentice.” Drake shot a glance at me, startled. “In fact, I’m intrigued by the use I may make of all those who adore her.” He glanced around the chamber at my family. Hell, no… “You’ll be welcome in the Brotherhood of the Phoenix.”

  I stormed up to the Mage. “The deal was for one Queen of Chaos.”

  “Be silent. Do I look like a Fallen, driven by base desires for bargains and bets? Once, I offered you the chance to join me willingly. Now?” His grin was feral; his eyes narrowed. “I take it all.”

  The air thickened throughout the room in candyfloss waves, until I choked. Finally, everything dwindled to white.

  29

  My human life of gamers, shanks, and sister had burned on my twenty-first birthday, when my powers had arisen phoenix-like. Tricked into the harem and feathered Angel World, I’d torched the corrupted court and my role as Angel Princess.

  And now?

  I’d stolen the light from the Under World.

  Was I truly nothing more than death, the End, destroyer? What had I become?

  Queen of Chaos? Savior? Protector?

  Or a corrupter of love and loyalty like my parents?

  White light distorted and distended; I hurtled between the shards of shattered mirrors, endlessly reflecting black and violet, black and violet…

  I tumbled onto the rock, catching myself before my brains were dashed out on the boulders.

  Oomph — the wind was knocked out of me.

  I groaned, hugging my aching arm closer.

  Three dazed blokes (and two blinking fox familiars), sprawled on top of me like we’d been roughhousing, rather than pulled by the Mage’s mental powers from the Under World to…