“Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.” I jolted at the gruff voice: The Damned had arrived. “It appears that the puppy has big teeth. Why didn’t you tell me the plan? You should slit the bastard’s throat and be done with it.” Ariel’s burly bulk materialized next to me in sunburst yellow.
Jahael reddened with both loathing and terror.
I glanced at Gabriel: I’d noticed the coded cocktail, which matched Ariel’s yellow rags, at the start of the evening, but I’d hoped that we had more time. After all, Gabriel had just declared himself Emperor, rather than allowing his uncle that honor.
No way would I allow Rachiel to be Firstborn.
The Damned considered Gabriel nothing more than the pampered Archduke, who’d be replaced on the return of the True Seraphim. After that, what would actually happen to Gabriel and Diniel? Would they find themselves with their throats slit too or locked in the dark cells forever?
Jahael let out a bitter laugh. “Brother…how splendid that the family is all together at last…well, almost.”
When Ariel’s swarthy face clouded and he reached for Jahael, Gabriel lurched forward to block him. “Please uncle, there’s no need to harm him. Let me explain…”
“How about why you’re giving me orders, eh?” Ariel reared back. “Or why you acted without my permission, lad? Or who are these impure angels and slaves?”
Gabriel’s expression hardened. “I give you orders because I am now your Emperor. I act without permission because despite what you’ve always thought I have never needed it. And these courageous and most true and freed angels,” the Acolytes whooped and stamped their feet in celebration, “are my family who I trust more than I’ve ever trusted you. I will not give up my Crown.”
Ariel gaped at him: a puppy transformed to lion. “Lad, I shall make you regret every word that’s yapped out of your impudent mouth. I warned you that your sister and bastard brother had come here to tumble this world, and so they have. I protected you and your mother both. You’re an insolent fool if you believe your sister the savior. Plus, have you forgotten that you promised me anything to save her from the scorpion’s sting? Will you also be an oath breaker?”
I glanced at Gabriel, who’d paled. He met my gaze: desperate and pleading.
What did I care if some bitch outlaw cried unfair? But Seraphim lived by their oaths. Could Gabriel even maintain his rule, if he broke his?
At last, Gabriel straightened his shoulders. “What is your wish?”
Ariel stroked his beard. “What I intend to have, lad, is the Crown.”
Mischief shot silver at Ariel’s chest, knocking him back a step. “Sorry, we’re all out of those.”
Gabriel looked dazed, however, as his hands shook. “Uncle, ask anything else of me.”
“I shall be Emperor, Rachiel my Firstborn, and you…? You’ll discover what becomes of those who cross me, lad.”
Godmaker shot into my hands, but I hesitated, even whilst sweat dripped down my neck. What the hell should I do?
Jahael’s chuckle made me shiver. “Well, I wasn’t expecting such diverting entertainment, but this party has been a blast. Still, I’ve been a little naughty; you see, I’ve built up quite the resistance to poor Amitiel’s delicious drinkies. Just like Purah, it would appear.” I glanced at Amitiel, who writhed on the floor, pawing at herself. My skin prickled with unease. “Funny thing though, I can tell when a drug is the fun sort or the paralyze you in a plot sort. And I always find, hookers, that when it’s the latter, waiting it out, no matter how staggeringly horrendous, you learn a lot. Like: who’s a traitor.”
“Bastard…” I staggered backwards, hollering a warning.
But it was too late.
Jahael — who’d never even been paralyzed, only pretending — burst up off the sofa. He smiled sweetly. “Who’s winning now?”
Jahael had merely been watching to see who’d knife him in the back and how. Pretending weakness, when in fact there was strength, was Mischief’s trick. I should’ve known that he’d inherited it from somewhere.
Ariel charged at Jahael, but in a shock of powerful agarwood that choked me, Jahael transformed, growing into a giant silver snake with lustrous scales, which looped around Ariel, scooping him into the air.
When Jahael smashed down, knocking Mischief out of the way, I snatched at Jahael’s coils at the same time as Gabriel. Then Jahael’s tail whipped out, cracking across my back, until I howled.
28
In the game of war there were no winners or losers: there was only the bastard who was left alive.
Except, sometimes it was the dead who freed the living.
Godmaker swung, slashing through the hissing ribbons that guarded entry into the Forbidden Court.
Lightning jags connected my mind to Godmaker’s warrior spirit; he dived back and forth, hacking across the petal archway, without my even having to hold him.
Instead, I groaned, wrapped in Gabriel’s wings. Gabriel’s velvet scent soothed me; I didn’t simply want to treasure Gabriel, although he deserved to be loved in a way that he never had been before. I craved to raise him up to his rightful place and force him to believe that it was his.
My back throbbed, whilst agony speared up my spine every time that I shifted.
Jahael’s serpent tail had whipped across me, before he’d slithered out of Court Two with Ariel squeezed in his coils. For long moments, I’d lain on my back, staring up at the garish roof of the Rose Room, whilst it pulsed as if in sympathy to my agony, and I’d wondered whether I’d be able to walk.
Mischief had dropped next to me, brushing the hair out of my eyes and shivering as he’d taken the pain. When he’d whimpered, keeling over into Rebel’s arms, however, I’d stopped him.
Mischief had taken enough pain: I wouldn’t use him anymore.
I’d gingerly pushed myself up, battling against the twinges that had shot up my neck. Then I’d battled against my own family, who’d wanted to stay with me. Yet I’d insisted that they follow Jahael discretely, whilst Gabriel and I had freed Lucifer.
Who the hell knew how Istafil was hurting Lucifer?
Blaze and Spark had scowled with enough Glaswegian edge, however, to muscle themselves onto the rescue mission.
“You can’t mean to leave behind the wee rascal, Diniel?” Blaze’s ears had twitched.
“He’ll be wanting his foxies!” Spark had nodded, hopefully.
How had I forgotten the brave little Archduke, who’d flinched from my touch after his abuse at the hands of Istafil but had nonetheless smuggled in Rebel’s message?
“You’ll be after saving Sablo too,” Rebel had added with his best puppy dog impression.
My eyes had gleamed. “Just call this the Great Escape, bitches.”
“Spoiler alert: that film didn’t end well for the escapees,” Ash had warned.
“Then we’re the legends who’ll rewrite the ending.”
When Godmaker arced away from the flaming entrance to the Forbidden Court with a satisfied growl, Gabriel smiled at me, although his gaze was steeled with resolve. “It’s time that my wicked stepmother learned the truth of chastisement.”
Blaze and Spark smirked, saluting.
I grinned. “Let’s burn a Mongrel Witch.”
Godmaker led us like a candle in processional into the Forbidden Court. The rosewater scent had soured: the rose withering on the bloom. The first archways and bathing pools were empty. Ribbons coiled from the ceiling into the sunken center. My feet sank into the floor, silently.
I scanned the darkened court, but Istafil wasn’t here, unless she was invisible, which was dangerously likely…
Whimpering.
I gasped at the shooting pain in my back as I twisted to the side alcove.
Beloveds huddled on top of each other, shielding themselves with cushions — because when it all went down, Cushion Attack was deadly — and a kid Wing with flowing onyx hair stood in front of them as their tiny defender: Diniel.
When Din
iel realized that it was me, he almost fell, only to be steadied by Sablo, who crouched behind him. Then Diniel’s expression crumpled like he’d been holding onto his courage for so long that he simply couldn’t any longer. Yet he still managed a chorused, “Foxies!”
Blaze and Spark dived to Diniel, swinging him around until he giggled. “Archduke!” They singsonged back.
I no longer minded that they sounded like family because Diniel was my fam too.
Gabriel dropped to his knees in front of his brother, who stumbled from Spark’s hold. Gabriel wrapped all six wings around him, whilst he nestled closer. “How forgiving of you to hold tight one who allowed your suffering. Don’t you detest me as much as the Mongrel Witch?”
Diniel pulled away from Gabriel. He touched his finger to his own wing and then to Gabriel’s. “You’re my brother; I love you.”
Gabriel let out a choked laugh. “I am honored to be such, Diniel. Oh, and I’m waging war to be Emperor, so you’re all free.”
The Beloveds blinked in wide-eyed astonishment, until Sablo flapped his wings and whooped.
“Rebel said you were brilliant.” Sablo flung his arms around my neck, until I winced. He let go with a shy, although self-satisfied, shrug as he flexed his small arms. “Sorry, I’ve forgotten my own strength.”
I fought to hide my grin. “Yeah, you’re a gladiator. How about you lead your mates into the Gilded Cage and barricade it? When we’re done with the revolution, your friendly new Emperor here,” Gabriel ducked his head, “will help you.”
Sablo nodded, whipping the cushions off the Beloveds and coaxing them out of their nest.
Diniel’s lip quivered with betrayal. “But I want to fight.” He gripped onto the bunched front of Gabriel’s robe. “What if father hurts you? What if you need me? What if—”
“So many what ifs,” Gabriel sighed, detaching Diniel’s hand, finger by finger, from his robe. Then he played with Diniel’s fingers gently between his own. “If only all could be feathered in certainty, would we not fly such a surer path? I cannot make promises, Diniel, because I would not lie to you. But I am the Firstborn and this…what I do now for the Realm of the Seraphim and the worlds beyond…has always been my responsibility.” He patted Diniel’s hand, before pushing him towards Sablo. “Do not wish duty on your shoulders too early; you shall have your own soon enough. You shall be the Champion of Beloveds: it’s a shining title.”
Diniel nodded. “Am I the Champion of the vampire Beloved too? The Mongrel Witch hurt him.”
Lucifer…
“Where…?”
Diniel waved to the back of the court.
I gestured to Godmaker to guard over the Beloveds, before staggering through the forest of ribbons in the sunken middle of the room, which thwacked me in the face.
On the other side, in the furthest petal arched alcove, Lucifer was trapped in the same wooden structure with an iron lever that had punctured holes through Quinn’s wing.
My breaths came short and fast, as I stumbled to Lucifer’s side, crouching next to him. Lucifer’s eyes were closed, although his chest rose and fell shallowly. My eyes prickled with relieved tears that his glorious wing hadn’t yet been mutilated for Istafil’s amusement.
And because I’d replaced her as Empress.
I remembered when I’d had wings, before Rahab had stolen them from me: how sensitive they’d been to the lightest touch. Yet my dad had almost suffered the worst punishment an angel could: just like Quinn.
I drew my shoulders up as I ran my hands over Lucifer, checking for injuries, but his pale skin was unmarred. I huffed out a relieved breath, until I slipped my hand to the base of his neck and discovered the Pleasure Pearl. I growled, edging my fingers around it; the pearl was stuck deep into the Matriarch’s Mark, covering the ML.
I tugged again.
At last, Lucifer’s eyes shot open. He wailed, arching. He turned his bleary gaze on me; his pupils were blown. Then his hips humped the air, whilst tears of frustration leaked down his cheeks. His nipples peaked and his feathers ruffled.
Istafil was edging him through the pearl…which meant that she was still here.
Nobody did that to the dad of the Dragon God…
Shadows burst out of me, winding in a whirlwind rage, whilst silver glowed celestial across my skin. My fangs descended in a snarl, and I dove on the back of Lucifer’s neck, sinking in my teeth and ripping out the pearl in one savage twist.
Lucifer screamed.
I spat out the mouthful of blood and tattooed skin.
I’d removed the Matriarch’s Mark…
Lucifer collapsed in a sweaty heap; his pained gaze finally managed to make out mine. His lips half-quirked into a smile. “You know, you gave daddy a scare, champ. Huh, that is…you are choosing me as your father…?”
“You’ve always been my dad.” I eased his wing out of the device. “I just didn’t know if you were fam.”
He winced. “Always straight for the balls.”
I rubbed my hand across his shoulder, before frowning. His skin was hot — heating — just as the brand FIRE across his chest was fading.
Did that mean…?
“You think that you can steal my title of Imperial Favorite?” Istafil crooned her poisoned words into my ear as she materialized behind me. I tried to spin, but my back spasmed, and she caught me, digging her nails into my throat. “After centuries as that fool’s toy, I’ve earned it.”
I choked, scrabbling at Istafil’s hands, whilst Gabriel and the fox brothers crashed across the court towards us.
Gray blurred my vision. My breath stuttered…
I reached for my powers, but they couldn’t rouse against the lack of oxygen and the pressure on my throat. Istafil’s Damask Rose scent sickened me. I called across my bond to Godmaker: his bellow echoed.
J? Where are you? This isn’t the time to go missing in Seraphim Land. I can’t… I’m dying… Please…
Silence.
I quivered, alone at the last. My eyes fluttered, whilst I swam in the sea of gray.
Then Lucifer rose in towering fury. He waved his hand once and sleek black armor covered him. His wings burst on demon fire behind him, whilst his horned helmet grew in flaming — terrifying — fire.
Had I unleashed my savior or a second destroyer?
My lungs ached, and my eyelids finally drooped shut, as my shoulders slumped.
Suddenly, there was a burst of heat behind me, which was so hot that it scorched my throat and a light so blindingly pure that it haloed even my closed eyelids.
Then Istafil crumbled to ash.
Lucifer caught me in his arms. I gasped for breath, massaging my bruised throat, before opening my eyes and staring up at his flaring horns.
Lucifer smirked. “I may no longer be king, but I’m still badass.”
Gabriel skidded to a halt with Blaze and Spark panting at his heels. Godmaker hovered at his shoulder; fire flickered like a mane around his head.
Gabriel eyed Lucifer’s transformation into a formidable supernatural — with a horned helmet to prove it. “I don’t doubt it. But are you now also bad?”
Lucifer’s smile faltered, before he steadied me onto my own feet and slunk closer to Gabriel. When he touched his horn, a fire fairy leapt onto his palm and pirouetted: hell, I’d missed Lucifer’s spark. “In only the best ways.”
Inside, I blazed as brightly as Lucifer’s Light; my dad was an army just by himself. “What about the Seraphim who are in Istafil’s ruby collars?”
“Istafil’s incineration,” Gabriel glanced down coolly at the pile of ash, which had once been the Glory who’d tormented him throughout his childhood, “will have freed them. What happens to any wild beast, which has been beaten by its master, when it’s freed from its cage?”
Lucifer laughed: it was as dark as Gabriel’s answering grin. “Din-dins…”
“I’m a wild beast,” I snarled, “I’ve been beaten. And now I’m free from my cage.” Godmaker sped into my hand with a
howl. “Now I hunger to feast.”
Lucifer stared at me with wide — proud — eyes. “That is badass.”
Except, all I had to do was fight the most powerful of the Seraphim.
All I had to do was die.
29
I didn’t crave power, control, or kingdoms.
In the end, saying goodbye to my family on the day that I’d die was enough. Even though I couldn’t destroy my last moments by letting them know the truth: Dying for them was life.
I clutched Godmaker, whilst I schooled my expression to a careful blankness. The pain in my back settled to a dull ache. A cool breeze cut across the high walled courtyard outside the Holy Audience Chamber. The rosewater fountain tinkled in mocking calm to the angels and vampires ranked in high treason against the Emperor; its sound and scent blocked out whatever was going on inside.
My blokes had tracked Jahael here, but then the gates to the Inner Court had slammed shut. Firebird had telepathically called me to join them: he’d never had the confidence to do that before. Now the whole gang kicked their heels in the courtyard, apart from Ash, who’d slid out Devil’s Trident and winked as he’d marched away.
“Secret mission,” he’d called over his shoulder. “Just call me 007.”
Who knew if Ariel had already been consumed by the snake? Not that he’d be a bastard loss…
Mischief cupped his ear against the gate’s clouded glass, listening intently as if for the slither of Jahael or the crunch of a Damned Takeout.
Gabriel raised his eyebrow, but Mischief only shook his head.
“We’re engaged on a monster hunt.” Mischief rapped clink — clink — clink on the gate. “Except, the serpent’s trapped in an unbreakable glass aquarium.”
“And feeds on live outlaws,” Drake added.
Rebel whacked Drake across the back of the head at Gabriel’s stricken look.
Drake rubbed at his head, before stiffly nodding to Gabriel. “My apologies. And may feed on live outlaws.”
Lucifer sniggered.
Rebel Angels: The Complete Series Page 128