Hell, he couldn’t mean…?
I peered over his shoulder at Gabriel, who’d stopped moving under the mass of scorpions, except for the twitch of his wings.
I bit hard on my lip to hold back my rage. How could Jahael make me choose between brothers? Was he truly prepared to sacrifice one son to teach me a lesson?
My gaze swung to Mischief on the altar. All I had to do was say his name, and he’d be alive again…
I shook my head. “I’m not choosing between who lives and dies. I shouldn’t have that power; I don’t care if I am a bastard god.”
Jahael’s eyes flared. “Then they both die.”
I stiffened. Every instinct screamed at me to cherish and protect Gabriel, but I loved Mischief. I opened my mouth to whisper his name, when Gabriel’s pained whimper caught me; fire scorpions were stinging his wingtips, and he couldn’t shake them off.
Monster Hall had been Gabriel’s hell since he’d been a kid; he’d been trained to fear it, just like Mischief had been conditioned to fear the Lower Vault and snakes. I remembered Mischief telling me about growing up protecting his little brother, Nathanael, who’d become my Phoenix slave, Firebird, with his memories of Mischief stolen.
Mischief had spent his life protecting his brothers: he’d never want me to sacrifice Gabriel to bring him back to life.
And he’d never forgive me if I made that choice.
I bit my lip harder, tasting the sharp blood. “Let me go.”
At once, the weight of Jahael’s wings were lifted. I darted across the hall, roaring at the scorpions like I could extinguish their fire by fear alone, before tumbling Gabriel round and round on the sticky floor.
Stamp — stamp — stamp.
I squished the stinging bastards, even as my own hands blistered. I patted Gabriel’s seared wings that still glowed with embers; his face was blackened.
Hell, don’t let me be too late…
Then Gabriel groaned, and a sudden godly rushing power inside reached out in protective joy that I’d saved him, even whilst it ached at what I’d given up.
Mischief.
“My brother…?” Gabriel forced out through swollen lips, and I winced because it was the first time that he’d called Mischief that with full sincerity.
When I soothed my fingers through Gabriel’s feathers, I was caught in the velvety embrace of his amber scent. I wished that I could hold him without hurting him because his dad had already hurt him enough for a lifetime.
Yet, did I crave to burn both my enemies and lovers because of Jahael’s seed inside me…? Wasn’t I a Fire God too? And why in this moment of both rebirth and death, did I shudder in my need for J’s comfort?
“I had to choose,” I explained, unable to stop my impotent tears. “Mischief would’ve gone crazy unicorn on me if he’d died to save you, only for me to steal his free will.”
Jahael huffed. “What’s with all the diva waterworks? So dramatic…”
He stalked closer, considering us both, before he shoved me backwards. When he pressed his hand onto Gabriel’s sapphire choker, the jewel blazed awake: an opening eye.
Gabriel juddered; the tendons on his neck stood out. I shielded my eyes against the brightness of the magic bleeding from the choker and knitting across Gabriel, whilst he arched in agony, paling him from charred to dusky skinned once again. His swollen face was restored in moments back to sweating perfection, although he panted, as Jahael pulled away his hand from the sapphire and patted him on the head.
“There, there, all better now, Gabriel.” Jahael rubbed the hem of his robe over Gabriel’s cheeks, wiping away his tears. Then he raised his eyebrow at me. “You believed that I’m the sort of angelic asshole to have designed Monster Hall for my son but not a way to heal him afterward?” He pouted. “Girl, you disappoint me.”
I stared at the pendant around Gabriel’s neck, which had faded and was no longer glowing. Everywhere he went, Gabriel wore a reminder of disappointing his dad: Jahael’s power over him. No matter how hurt Gabriel was during his night here, he could be restored back to perfection the following morning.
Yet Gabriel had stood up to his dad to save Ash and Lucifer, as well as to demand resurrection for Mischief. Only now did I understand what that meant. And I wouldn’t forget what terrors he’d faced to have my family’s back.
“By the fire, have I atoned?” Gabriel didn’t raise his gaze.
Jahael held one hand out to his son, and one out to me. Reluctantly, I allowed myself to be pulled to my feet alongside Gabriel; Jahael’s skin felt drier than I’d expected: reptilian.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head; you’re all atoned up. What fills me with sweet as cheery pie tingles is that our precious new god here chose you to save.” Jahael’s fingers tightened around mine, as he led us to the altar. I couldn’t look at Mischief held motionless in the center. “I must insist on all your attention; I’m a narcissist, I really am.” He slammed Gabriel and me down over the altar; our cheeks touched Mischief’s cold chest. I forced panicked breaths through my nostrils, unable to stop my body shaking. When my knees buckled, Gabriel slid his hand into mine; his gaze anchored me. “How about if I told you that your choice was a test of my son’s powers?”
“Father, you promised that I’d atoned…” Gabriel’s fingers stroked across mine in panic.
“The freaky lion shifting?” I hated the feel of Mischief’s skin against my cheek. Why couldn’t he at least have the respect of being dressed? Yet I’d been the one to order him to strip…
Jahael massaged his hand down my neck. “His godly power to inspire followers to treasure him, just as they worship me. To protect.” Had I sacrificed Mischief only because I’d been under Gabriel’s power? “BAM! She’s finally gagging on the truth like a low market hustler.”
I crushed Gabriel’s fingers between mine, before hurling his hand away from me.
“On all the divinity of love, I didn’t mean to… I never chose to use it…” Gabriel looked away miserably. For a moment, I wished that our hands were still touching. “It called to you in a way that it never has to anyone before. I didn’t mean to trick you.”
“Epic fail.”
Gabriel flinched.
“Oh, don’t sulk,” Jahael said. “Now I know that you’re loyal to my Firstborn, even over the one you love for real…” Gabriel flinched again. “Let me ask you this: what would you do to get back your sparkly lover from the dead?”
There was still a chance to resurrect Mischief…?
My breath ghosted in desperate gasps over Mischief’s chest, as my steel claws shot out, sinking into the altar.
Anything: hell, I’d do anything.
“Don’t,” Gabriel hissed. “I’ve already given my oath and—”
Jahael dug his fingers into the base of Gabriel’s neck, and he shrieked. “What’s all the fuss, naughty boy? Are you begging to touch another mural?”
When the walls glimmered as if in excitement at the treat, Gabriel shook his head, biting his lip to keep in the pain.
Jahael tilted his head. “I’ll resurrect Mischief, if you give your oath to join the Order of my Knights of the Seraphim, Violet-darling.”
Gabriel struggled. “Wait…”
“On all that burns…blah, blah…pompous oath…blah, blah, I swear to become one of your knights if you resurrect Mischief. Will that do it?” I demanded.
Jahael’s smile was long and luxuriant, as at last he let go of his son’s neck. “Fabulous.”
Gabriel roared in frustration, booting at the altar. “By His wing, do you imagine that my brother would wish your sacrifice any more than he’d wish mine? Every new knight undergoes a Test by Monster: three days outside the temple in the Bone Plains.”
“So, I go sightseeing tomorrow. What’s the problem?”
“No one who isn’t fae has ever survived.”
Yeah, I got the problem. Unless I transformed into Tinkerbelle I was screwed and I didn’t think having my own family of Lost Boys c
ounted.
I clenched my fists. “Then I’ll be the first.”
“That’s the spirit.” When Jahael kissed my shoulder, I shuddered. “Why would my creation fail me? And not to dump even more steaming reality on you but if you fail…there’s no place in a realm of gods for mere vampires or angels.”
I twisted around to Jahael. “What in the Neverland are on you on about?”
Jahael’s gaze darkened. “Gabriel’s spoils of war: the vampires.” My mouth dried: Ash and Lucifer. “I’d toss them back into the Abyss.” He twirled, spinning his robe with a giggle. I remembered my oath, and how Gabriel had tried to stop me. He’d known that there’d be a cost…and the power that his dad would have over me. “Along with that Phoenix, who is nothing more than a travesty of a science experiment raised on my cutie pie prince’s blood.”
“Firebird’s the most innocent bloke in this temple.”
Jahael’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s why Quinn, my Chief Knight, loves the taste of him. I’ve barely seen the Phoenix, but then Quinn is so possessive.” I hadn’t realized that I was growling, until Jahael gave a cold laugh. “Girl, he’s not the only one. You should be kissing his feet because if he hadn’t claimed the Phoenix’s ass, I’d have erased his false resurrection as a gift for Anael. I do so love to treat your brother.”
My eyes were burning, but I refused to let any more tears fall in front of Jahael. I had to win the Test by Monster: how could I let Mischief’s brother die, after I’d already raised him as my slave? “Don’t bastard touch him.”
Jahael chuckled. “A delicate flower like him will be most…popular…in the Abyss. But then so will Commander Drake amongst all those vampires…”
Fire surged in uncontrollable fury under my skin and down my arms at the thought of Drake at the mercy of his enemies: an angel amongst vampires. The injustice of it spiked my righteousness, until I vibrated with violet.
Only Gabriel’s arm around my waist, dragging me back, stilled the storm. His rich aroma overlaid the fury, calming me, even whilst I shivered that this could be Gabriel’s Angelic Power. Yet it was working symbiotically, winding around my ancient powers: it didn’t feel wrong or controlling, but rather like part of me that I hadn’t even known had been missing.
A gentleness not to be dominated, but to be cherished.
“She understands, father.” Gabriel met my gaze, suddenly grave. “We shan’t fail you.”
“We?” Jahael queried.
“I made an oath to you as well.” Gabriel tilted his chin. “She doesn’t know the rules or this land and shall inevitably do something foolish…”
“It’ll do your overentitled ass good to serve as a knight rather than my Firstborn.” Gabriel blushed at his dad’s jeer; everything Gabriel had suffered had been to hold onto his position in court but now he’d been demoted to knight. “It’s about time you did more than party and skulk in the shadows. Quinn can guide you. At least then, I’ll believe the reports.”
Gabriel lowered his gaze; he reddened an even deeper shade.
Jahael swooped above the altar, stretching out his wings; his feathers sparked.
Gabriel and I twisted back to Mischief, as my heart pounded with desperate hope; I studied Mischief’s still face.
Open your eyes…
Above the altar, Jahael flapped his wings harder.
Suddenly, Jahael transformed into Mischief. I gasped, looking between the two angels. Slowly, silver tendrils spun from the False Mischief like life from one to the other, before in a spray of light, Jahael became himself again.
And Mischief opened his eyes.
I didn’t breathe. Speak. Look away.
Silence.
Had Jahael raised Mischief wrong? Had he wiped his memories? Did Mischief even know who I was…?
Then Mischief grasped hold of me, burrowing his head onto my chest and drawing in gasp after painful gasp of air. I never knew how much I ached to hear his breaths but each was more precious to me than my own.
“I shan’t ever let go again,” Mischief rasped.
“And I won’t let you go again,” I murmured, stroking his hair.
He was warm, safe, and in my arms. Everything was worth this moment.
Gabriel awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. “Then how will I get a hug from my little brother?”
Mischief raised his head; tears glinted on his eyelashes. “Brother…”
Oomph — Gabriel rushed closer, wrapping his wings around us both so tightly that the air was pushed out of us.
Mischief squirmed. “Get off, you feathered…”
I caught his smile, however, before he could smother it, and Gabriel only rested his chin on my shoulder.
“There’s the sugar sweetness that makes me love being Emperor.” Jahael soared closer; his shadow swallowed us. “I’m looking forward to some quality time with my bastard son, whilst you’re away, in case you fail. You see, the one who raises from the dead, owns that life and can snuff it out with a thought.” When Mischief paled, I clasped him closer, just as Gabriel’s wings cocooned us. “Don’t make me take back my resurrection.”
I shook with despair.
I couldn’t lose Mischief now that he was back — alive — in my arms. Jahael had dangled this treat before us, only for the punishment to be worse when it was taken away.
There was one night remaining before I’d undertake the Test by Monster on the deadly plains. Mischief’s death, and my vampire and angel family’s suffering in the Abyss, would be my fault if I failed.
Yet no one but fae had ever survived.
11
Once, I’d had a crush on a posh boy at school. He’d been the perfect pretty boy with two parents, a home, and no idea what a shank felt like slicing through skin.
Me? I’d been Miss Invisible to Perfect Posh, until suddenly — one day — I hadn’t been.
Perfect Posh’s ice blue eyes had twinkled, as I’d passed him in the corridor; he’d blessed me with a smile that’d been all for me, and I’d guarded it as the only truly special thing that I’d owned.
J had warned me not to go soft and let a bloke become my weakness. Yet I hadn’t listened because I’d had that smile to light me.
Then Perfect Posh had whispered, “Trust me.”
When he’d pulled me after him into the alley behind the playground, I’d burst with glee that at last I’d been seen.
Until…
Sniggers and jeers.
Perfect Posh had pulled away from me to join his mates, who’d huddled at the end of the alley.
I can’t believe she fell for it… The bitch actually reckoned I was into her… Who’d want to touch a freak like her…?
I hadn’t bastard cried. But I hadn’t trusted again.
Ever.
Gabriel clung to me, before twirling me across the tiny cell in a dance that was all feathers, passion, and desperation. My boots clattered across the cold marble, whilst Gabriel’s eyes glimmered in the gloom; the only light in the windowless chamber bled from the grilles on the floor through to the Acolytes’ sleeping quarters.
Nope, not feeling the trust from Jahael: he’d dragged Gabriel and me away from Mischief and locked us up for our last night in the temple.
In less than an hour, I’d set out to the Bone Plains for the impossible Test by Monster, so now I’d dance with Gabriel to the heart wrenching operatic rock of Queen’s “The Show Must Go On” because if we were going out, we’d do it in style.
Mischief had a serious sense of irony when he’d passed on my special songs to his brother, and Gabriel had more control over his imprisonment than I’d thought that he could serenade me even in this cell.
Although, as Gabriel’s wings surged their power through me until I shuddered, caught between his jagged spikes of energy and my own answering howl of shadows, I wondered if this was more his special song than mine.
The Firstborn Aslan wears more faces than I do, Feathery-doll. How much makeup do you think he slaps on to survive in the sh
ow at court?
I saved Mischief but the cost—
You know this tune. You chose it. Did you think that the Shady Dick Me wouldn’t demand a sacrifice?
But you’re a god too. Demand one right back.
Who do I trust…?
Haven’t you worked it out yet?
Gabriel gripped my elbows with bruising force. His gaze was anguished but also determined; his chin tilted, even though his lips trembled. He dragged me close, whispering into my ear, “Trust me, and I shall worship you.” I gasped, drawing back. His eyes lit with painful hope. “Take my Crown, body, and soul—”
“I don’t want a bastard slave.” I shoved him against the wall.
The godlike powers inside burned bright at his temptation: to claim an Archduke and future Emperor, just as his rich amber scent begged me to stroke the distressed sparks on his feathers and cherish him, rather than force him to his knees, whilst he worshiped me.
I wasn’t the shadow of my mother, no matter the Glory that she’d tried to mold me into, and I wasn’t Istafil, although that was all Gabriel had known.
Gabriel cocked his head. “Then rule with me.”
My eyes widened.
He wanted me to be the future Empress?
“I’m not some Imperial Favorite who needs the bauble of power held out to me. Help me live through this test and you’ll have my trust. I don’t need to take anything from you.”
“And what if I willingly give it?” Gabriel slipped his arm back around my waist, gently kissing my jaw.
His magic sizzled from his lips in a tingling line: I shuddering into his hold, as finally the shock of Mischief’s death and resurrection connected us.
Here was true peace, not slavish worship.
Until Gabriel growled, plucking a flitting butterfly from behind my ear. A fae Knight of the Seraphim: the sneaky bloodsucking bastard.
“Game over,” I smirked. “Prepare to say hello to Mr Boot.”
The knight squeaked, before hanging limply between Gabriel’s finger and thumb. Cold tendrils squeezed my guts with guilt: the poor little bastard…
Gabriel rolled his eyes, whilst shaking the knight. I stared at him in shock. “The fae have been bound to serve His holy glory for centuries. Surely you didn’t imagine my father’s power all his own?”
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