Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  “If you’re going to start rapping about your love of big butts…”

  Gabriel blanched, staring fixedly at the wall behind me.

  Turn around, Violet-death.

  How about a hell no…?

  Would you rather know the dangers in the shadows, hooker, or hide in blindness?

  My pulse raced at the fear in J’s voice. I slid my hand to Star and unsheathed it, as I shuffled around. The scrape of my arse on the bone floor was painfully loud in the sudden silence.

  I forced myself to look up.

  A black scorpion, the size of a crocodile, clung to the wall. Its sharp twin pincers snapped; its soft mouth gaped. The huge bulbous stinger on the end of its tail swung, as its back arched.

  I held back the scream at the sight of the Giant Scorpion, which was as instinctive as the tremors that ran through me, whilst edging backwards towards Gabriel. I threw a quick glance over my shoulder at him.

  Gabriel had frozen in terror at his nightmare from Monster Hall come to life but grown into its Big Daddy.

  Quinn, on the other hand, had straightened into a wild warrior: thrilling and menacing in equal measure. With a spray of golden sparks, he drew his scimitar, before firing it in a sweeping arc over my head; a thousand tiny crystalline swords shot from the tip.

  Hissing.

  The Giant Scorpion scuttled further up the wall onto the roof, dodging the attack, even as it curled up and lifted its stinger higher.

  With clammy hands, I raised Star above my head, rasping in rapid breaths.

  Then the Giant Scorpion dropped onto my back.

  Clawing feet, tearing pincers, and smothering coldness.

  The alien wrongness of the Giant Scorpion’s weight trapped me. I couldn’t breathe under its arachnid questing.

  My chest hurt; I shook.

  Gabriel’s hollers, Quinn’s sparks, my own flickers of violet.

  The Giant Scorpion’s stinger swung around, piercing my shoulder and pumping venom into me, whilst I howled.

  12

  Added to my Least Favorite Ways to Wake Up: paralyzed by venom from the shoulders down.

  Blindfolded.

  Wetting my lips, I twisted my head to the side, before yelping as something pointy dug into the back of my head, cracking like…wing bones.

  I was laid out on the dead.

  When I drew in a deep breath to control the panic — when the hell had Giant Scorpions taken prisoners or developed the ability to put on blindfolds with their claws? — I flew on the sudden overwhelming scent of amber: Gabriel.

  Where was Gabriel and Quinn? Had they slain the Giant Scorpion and taken it as their trophy? Or had it slain them?

  Don’t even think it…

  When I choked back a sob, the velvety scent cocooned me from the…blindfold. I blinked at the soft cloth blinding me in midnight blue: a fragment of Gabriel’s robe.

  Hell, what had happened to Gabriel…? Was he even still in the rest of the robe? How could I just lie here on the long deceased, whilst Gabriel could be naked and at the mercy of whoever had snatched us?

  I struggled to twitch my fingers: nothing. I snorted in frustration. Even though I’d been paralyzed by magic before, being trapped in my body by the Giant Scorpion’s sting felt different because the venom was in my blood.

  I forced my sluggish tongue around my mouth. I couldn’t see or move, but they hadn’t taken away my sharpest weapon: my snark.

  Before you unleash your pussy power, remember that gods are shifters with many faces and all of them jackasses. If you had the power to change yourself to survive, wouldn’t you?

  Cheers for the philosophy lesson, but scorpion sting and blindfolded, equals… Emergency, bitch.

  Keep your luscious tits on, hooker, of course it’s an emergency, you’re dying.

  J, did you just say…?

  Dead like flares and dabbing.

  Don’t ever become a doctor; your bedside manner sucks.

  How about this then? The venom is slowly causing your heart to fail. You could have hours…minutes…or only seconds left.

  Now do you have the drive to survive?

  At the snap of footsteps, I stilled, forcing myself to quieten my breathing. At least it didn’t sound like a freaky gang of Giant Scorpions who could also truss up prisoners.

  Time to play dead.

  “I still think that we should feed her to the Terror Bird and be done with it.” A gruff male voice growled above my head: commanding and assured.

  This must be the top boy…and Terror Bird didn’t sound anymore hugs and kisses friendly than a gang of Giant Scorpions.

  “Didn’t I warn you that your sister was the prize?” I couldn’t help the way that my head jerked backwards crunching against the bed of bones at the woman’s sophisticated sneer: the same bitch who’d crashed Istafil’s party and slaughtered Mischief. Violet and black warred impotent to snap her neck, just as she had my lover’s, yet I laid helpless at her feet at the mercy of the Damned. “Yet you, Firstborn, bring her here like she’s the—”

  “Savior. By my wing, it’s because my sister is our savior. Please, Rachiel, allow her but a chance to prove it.”

  Gabriel…?

  My pulse raced; Gabriel was safe. Yet he’d also delivered me to the outlaw Damned.

  Feathered outrage spun me thinner than glass: had Gabriel been seized by the Damned like me, or had he been in league with these murdering outlaws all along?

  Where was Quinn?

  Heavy footsteps snapped across the bones, coming even closer: one, two, three…

  “I know that you’re awake, girl; cut out the sleeping act.” The Damned Top Boy nudged my cheek with his toe. “Don’t worry, we voted 60:40 not to feed you to the Terror Bird.”

  Thrumming with righteous rage, I stretched my jaw. “Cheers for not chopping me up and using me as pet food.”

  A deep chuckle. “Oh, you wouldn’t be dead when we fed you to her; she likes a little fight in her dinner.”

  I paled. “Down here, amongst the non-psychos,” I shook my head from side to side, “take off this blindfold.”

  “Tell me first why you and the bastard Archduke came to our realm? What do you hope to gain, eh? Another notch to your tumbled worlds…or somewhere bigger and better to conquer?”

  “Hold up, you’ve kidnapped me because you’re scared of Mischief and me? You think that we’re the next tyrants? Last time I looked, you weren’t even in power, bitch.”

  Crack — the Damned Top Boy booted me in the face; my cheekbone shattered.

  I hollered, gasping at the sickening wave of pain, which shuddered through me, even whilst I was unable to curl over, move away, or even protect myself.

  Did Gabriel know that I was dying?

  “Will you watch your words now, girl?” The Damned Top Boy crouched over me; his fingers trailed down the cheek that was swollen and bruising under the force of his brutality; I shivered at his freezing touch. “Will the Emperor elect the bastard or you over Gabriel as heir?”

  “Wait…just turning on my psychic mind reading powers…”

  The Damned Top Boy’s fingers gripped harder into my skin; I flinched.

  “Please stop, uncle. I didn’t bring her here for this,” Gabriel’s voice was tear tinged.

  Uncle…?

  The leader of the Damned was Gabriel’s uncle and the Emperor’s own brother?

  Gabriel is his father’s son, Violet-cakes. Intrigues are in his blood, as much as the venom is in yours.

  Except, anti-venom could purge you. Can anything purge a Machiavelli?

  I scowled at the sound of Gabriel’s pained whine. “Always too frightened to dirty your pure hands, Firstborn.” Despite my rage at Gabriel’s betrayal, I couldn’t bear to hear the bitch, Rachiel, who’d attacked Mischief, hurting Gabriel, not whilst I was cradled in his scent; it was all that held me together. “At our last raid, Ariel, this pampered puppy acted as if he didn’t even know our intentions, even though we’d sent him the sign t
hrough the yellow cocktail.”

  “That’s because you, Rachiel, laid waste to innocents without sending me any warning,” Gabriel panted.

  My awesome cocktail at Istafil’s party before the attack, which had sizzled from yellow to violet-and-black tequila, had been meant as a sign for Gabriel…?

  Only, I’d drunk it.

  I couldn’t help the smirk. “Your little spy game went wrong; I got your code drink.”

  Ariel’s — the Damned Top Boy’s — fingers slipped to my jaw with the burn of ice. Then he slid off my blindfold.

  I gasped, closing my eyes against even the dim light of the Damned’s bone cavern. Carefully, I opened them again.

  Ariel’s burly bulk blocked out almost the entire cavern like a reverse eclipse in sunburst yellow; he wore the same ragtag cloths as the Damned who’d attacked the party, although a necklace of wing bones also hung around his neck and silvered shards pierced both his ears: Mad Max meets caveman. His beard was as military short as his hair.

  When I remembered the long-haired flaming Seraphim in their exquisitely decorated outfits in Court Two, I got Rachiel’s jeer about pampered.

  Hell, which was worse: Divine or Damned?

  I squinted past Ariel at the roof above, which was a giant ribcage. What size had the creature been if we were inside its bones? Had there been true giants once roaming this realm?

  Between the ribs hung colossal black cocoons that rippled, as if whatever was inside them was struggling to be born.

  I swallowed. What the hell sort of creatures transformed in these caves?

  “There you are, now my overly soft nephew can stop fretting, and you can explain why you’ve been sabotaging our plans.” Ariel’s gaze was hard.

  “For real?” I arched my brow. “You’ve overestimated a bitch’s mind reading powers again.”

  “Uncle, she had no way of knowing any of this,” Gabriel insisted. “I’m at fault. Please, if you do not trust her to help, then allow us to win her trophy and—”

  “So quick to wish to return to your father? Maybe you belong by his side? Now I’m seeing how it truly is, lad.” When Ariel tossed the fragment of Gabriel’s robe between his hands, like he had Gabriel in the palm of his hand — his toy — I couldn’t help the growl.

  Ariel cocked his head, examining me, before crushing the slip of satin in his fist.

  “I shall never belong at a dictator’s side.” I was shocked at the force of Gabriel’s words, although they couldn’t hide the pain beneath. “But how could you allow an attack on the temple that threatened the life of my brother and sister? I’d sacrifice much to depose my father, but I will not harm my siblings to do so.”

  Yeah, tell that to my heart as it burst in my chest…

  Ariel snorted. “She’s only seeded with Jahael.”

  “Which means that I’m free to love her as more than a sister.”

  My breath hitched. Love? Did Gabriel mean it or was it simply more games?

  Ariel swept around, marching further into the cavern towards Gabriel.

  At last, I could see the whole cavern: walls that were decorated with glowing feathers and an arena, which was carved out of the bone.

  Quinn perched on a high ledge like he was watching outdoor theater, resting his chin on his elbow. He nodded his head at me in greeting.

  Quinn had known about the Damned; that’s why he hadn’t wanted to come this way.

  And Gabriel…?

  My gaze shot immediately to his torn sleeve; which was uneven on one side, where the cloth had been ripped to make my blindfold. He stood, shoulders slumped, next to a Damned with shorn hair and high cheekbones: Rachiel. She was lean and as tall as Gabriel. She leaned on the same bone tipped spear as she’d shoved through Mischief’s neck.

  Rachiel looked me up and down, unimpressed, before sliding her hand onto Gabriel’s neck with more dominating menace, than comfort. Gabriel shrugged her off, before allowing himself to be pulled into a hard embrace by Ariel.

  “Chin up, lad, we don’t fly an easy path.” Ariel patted Gabriel’s back, whilst Gabriel clung to him in a way that made my inner violet itch to wrench him away: he was mine to hold, protect, and soothe… Yet was that nothing but a lie of his Angelic Power? Tears itched for real at the corners of my eyes. “I’m your only true family. We’re not the Damned but the True Seraphim; don’t forget that. The bastard and the half angel aren’t even pure Seraphim.”

  Gabriel frowned. “I’m not like the others; I shall never care about who’s pure or True.”

  Ariel cradled the back of Gabriel’s head, pulling him closer. “Did you care about your mother?” Gabriel whimpered. “In her name, I protected and helped you. I’m your savior — me. You think that you can trust these newcomers, but I’m the only one you’ve ever been able to trust.”

  When Gabriel nodded against his chest, and Ariel petted him like he cherished him, even though his manipulation and control, which was subtler but just as powerful as Jahael’s, was the opposite of what Gabriel truly needed, I snarled. Ariel glanced over his shoulder at me. “Tend to your sister. Perhaps she’ll open up to someone softer.”

  I didn’t miss the jibe, and as Gabriel grimaced, neither did he.

  Ariel snatched Rachiel’s arm, dragging her to the back of the cavern. Gabriel nodded at Quinn, who soared down from the ledge, carrying the pack.

  Then Gabriel marched to my side. He always had responded well to orders but then he’d had first class training from Jahael, Istafil, and it appeared also his uncle…

  Quinn crouched next to my head, lifting a bottle of water to my mouth. I pursed my lips in protest, despite the dryness of my throat and the aching heat of my forehead. When Quinn raised his eyebrow, I sighed, opening my mouth and taking deep swallows. Cool water licked down my throat.

  At last, Quinn pulled back the empty bottle, with a shrug of apology, whilst Gabriel prowled behind him.

  “So, are you in on this too, Betrayal Fairy?” I demanded.

  Quinn blushed. He touched my bruised cheek, and his sparking fingers stroked my hair. But he still nodded.

  “Quinn says,” Gabriel’s clipped voice translated, “that his people are slaves because they live under an absolute monarch. It’s his duty to free them. Wouldn’t you rebel?”

  And that was the point. Hadn’t I already rebelled?

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “Why the secrets and scheming?”

  Gabriel dropped to his knees, wringing his hands in his lap. “I thought that my uncle would welcome you as one of us…”

  Quinn blew a raspberry.

  I grinned. “Quinn’s right: you’re a wallad.”

  Gabriel rocked on his heels. “The courts fly on whispered outrage against my father’s dictatorship, but whispers don’t overthrow dictators. To take arms against a dictator as the True Seraphim — those who the temple’s Seraphim defame the Damned — a hurt must be personal.”

  I stared at him. He didn’t bastard mean…? “You intentionally showed me Istafil’s cruelty and had me tame Mischief to make my outrage against your father personal?”

  Gabriel gave a tentative nod. “Quite the moral outrage you have worked up. But would you have wished to overthrow your creator on my grudges and those of slaves alone, if your family had not also suffered?”

  “You’ve got one thing right,” I snarled, “it’s bastard personal: against your sneaky arse.”

  Gabriel shrank back, and Quinn slipped his arm around his shoulders. A rainbow bubble slipped around them both, before popping in a glittering spray.

  Gabriel sighed. “She has every reason to hate me, Quinn. Let her vent her poison; I can take it for our cause.”

  Yet he still gave me a hopeful smile like he was bastard Robin Hood.

  Frustrated, I slammed my head back with a crack because Gabriel’s plan had worked. I’d thought that I’d been saving Gabriel, whilst he’d been plotting to turn me to the side of the Damned.

  Except, his distress over
Mischief’s death had been real.

  Whatever his uncle’s reasons for fighting against Jahael, Gabriel believed himself a freedom fighter, freeing his people in the same way that Mischief had freed the Children of the Seraphim.

  How frightening must it be for Gabriel to live in the Gilded Cage as a secret resistance fighter?

  I forced Gabriel to meet my gaze. “Freaky idea here, but you could’ve trusted me. You’re all about betraying your dad for his brother, who seems an even bigger bastard…”

  “Wouldn’t you, with how my people suffer? Or do you revel in the power, games, and slavery?”

  I pinked, remembering my own choice in Angel World with my mum: to rule at her side as a princess, or to abandon her and free her slaves.

  There’d been no contest.

  Yet how long had this civil war between brothers been going on?

  “I get it,” I murmured.

  “You don’t,” Gabriel hissed. “How can you conceive what it was to grow up under Istafil with no mother amongst the Beloveds to protect me? My mother had been Empress but when she died and my uncle was exiled, I had no one. I was a child amongst jackals and snakes. My uncle had raised me with kindness and attention, whilst my own father…” Gabriel leaned further into Quinn’s embrace; Quinn hummed into his hair. “He molded me with threats and punishments: a pretty shadow to be seen and not heard, trapped in my Gilded Cage and presented on special occasions to flatter him by my beauty and good behavior. My uncle…saw me.” Gabriel’s pained gaze met mine, and hell did I understand. Any love, no matter how toxic or controlling was precious in a lonely childhood. “Before her death, I’d be allowed in my mother’s chambers; often, I’d discover my uncle there. He’d take me on his knee and play with a set of angel, vampire, and human dolls. He taught me how to play the game. Now, if he were to become the Emperor instead of my father—”

  “Everything will be lollipops and fairground rides?”

  “I wouldn’t — my people wouldn’t — live in fear.”

  Was Gabriel right? Or would he only be toppling one idol to replace it with another…who could be even worse? Because so far, Ariel wasn’t like Gabriel.