by J. L. Myers
BLOOD BOUND ORIGINS
DAWN OF RECKONING
J.L. Myers
.
MORE BOOKS BY J.L. MYERS
THE BLOOD BOUND SERIES
What Lies Inside
Made By Design
Web Of Lies
Born To Die
.
Copyright © 2016 & 2017 by J.L. Myers
The moral right of the author had been asserted.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this literary work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the author J.L. Myers.
Cover design by J.L. Myers.
Cover Images:
© Seleznov Oleksandr/shutterstock.com, © Dark Moon Pictures/shutterstock.com,
Cover art © 2017 J.L. Myers.
Visit the Website:
www.bloodboundnovels.com
eBook ISBN 978-0-9875653-1-0
CHAPTER ONE
Lucifer paced, the pressure coiling in his chest tightening with every step. He hated waiting. And yet that sickening feeling had nothing to do with wasted time. Instead, it rested solely on who would soon enough appear and what he planned to say to him. The one who had cast him away from heaven. The one who’d taken the only angel he’d ever cared for away from him. The one who had blackened his magnificent wings to prevent him returning above.
God.
Thinking his name had Lucifer’s fingers curling into fists. The weight of his raven-black wings pulling from his shoulder blades raised his pulse. As did the sound of their feathery tips brushing over the luminous floor.
His glazed sight focused, bringing clarity to his surroundings in the Realm of Light. Going around and around, he skirted the open space where the glass floor concaved downward like a shallow bowl. His glare intensified and his fists cranked even tighter. No matter what part of the world he glimpsed, it was all the same. Humans, whether ruling barbarians with all their wealth and power, soldiers who killed without thought, or the peasants that lived like rats in the streets, they were all the same.
Sinners.
From the day he’d been torn from Gabriel and sent to Earth, he’d advocated for the humans. He’d spread the word of God and done his angelic duty. Until he saw that his efforts were futile. Humans cared not for their maker. The atrocities they committed against each other were unfathomable. Unlike him, they were free—to act in any way they saw fit, and to believe in whatever they wanted…without repercussion.
Unlike him.
Now here he was, banished from heaven to that horrid existence below, only able to venture into the in-between space of light. All because he’d acted like one of God’s forever-forgivable humans, rather than remaining subservient like the other angels. All because he’d challenged God—because he’d wanted some freedom too, he’d wanted something or someone to live for.
As fire swam in Lucifer’s veins at the memory of it all, a sudden sensation made him freeze. His tight fists ached as he forced them to unclench. “You grace me…” He stalled at the flap of beating wings and spun, teeth clenching at the angel who had landed behind him. “I did not call for you, Michael.”
The archangel regarded Lucifer like he was filth he’d stepped in. “God’s time is reserved for more important tasks.” He smirked as that internal fire reddened Lucifer’s face, the triumph in his blue eyes unmissable. “You have reports from your time below?”
More important tasks? With his skin crawling in irritation, Lucifer resisted the urge to scream. Instead, he knelt and touched the tepid water that pooled over the concave-shaped looking glass, grappling to keep calm. Currents rippled out in waves, dying out before they hit the edge. His ire remained. “They do not follow God. Many Gods are their idols. They kill and rape in their names. They create wars not only in God’s name, but also in other’s to feed their greed of power, wealth, and control. They do not deserve what God has given—”
“And what would you have God do, Lucifer?” Michael’s self-important voice interrupted.
Lucifer couldn’t help the tightening of his lips as he rose to face Michael. His wings unfurled with swift movement, making him feel powerful in their expanse. “You, Michael, have no power to do anything. You are but an ant in an anthill. A soldier with no mind of his own.” He stepped closer, coming face to face with the other angel. “Only God can create the change needed. He alone has the power. Except He can’t see any error in his perfect creation. In his humans. He is blind when it comes to them. Blind to what his gift of free will makes them. Every single one of them. Sinners, unworthy—”
Lucifer stopped speaking as his tongue became dead numb in his mouth. The light around him intensified and the temperature spiked from neutral to blazing. Michael’s voice boomed with unexpected power, vibrating the air and the watery view of the world below. “You think He can’t see into your soul? You think He can’t see what you truly desire? To take their free will, the free will you so easily betrayed God to receive?” Red blazed in Michael’s eyes. “Though not because you regret your actions or want peace for the below. You desire the opposite, Lucifer. You wish for anarchy. The destruction of man—”
“God is blasphemy to the most of them!” Lucifer clamped his mouth shut, shocked at his sudden ability to speak the words he’d been screaming inside his head. But it was too late. He knew it as Michael’s broad hands clamped onto his biceps and the heat in the air roared up his arms. “God watches you, Lucifer. I do too. Like God, I’ve seen it all. Heard it all. You encourage their wicked ways. You plant the seeds of doubt and greed. You rejoice in their destruction.”
If God had been the one to confront him, Lucifer may have been able to stop himself. But he wouldn’t back down to anyone else, especially not Michael. The arrogant, holier-than-thou angel had scorned him from the start for failing to follow every order unquestioned. Lucifer gritted his teeth. “I only encourage what God’s precious humans are already capable of.” A stronger sensation alerted him to someone’s incoming. The expectation of God only fueled his words as he tugged from Michael’s hold. “He created monsters he is unwilling to take responsibility for. He—”
“Lucifer, stop!” Gabriel’s panicked yet ethereal voice preceded her form solidifying through the white light. She stopped suddenly at seeing the scene, the folds of her sapphire robe dancing around her ankles.
Lucifer’s eyes drank her in, the shock of her presence thundering through him. It had been so long now. The time that had passed felt like an eternity. “Gabriel.”
Her pained expression dissolved as she set her sights on Michael. “I am God’s messenger. Not you.”
Michael barely spared her a glance as he shrugged. “Then why do I have His power.” He reclaimed Lucifer’s biceps and shoved him back toward the looking glass.
Fear widened Gabriel’s eyes. “Do not do this, Michael, please. Lucifer, repent while you still can.”
Lucifer’s anger fully melted at the request of the only one of the archangels that had ever stood up for him. The only one he’d ever cared for more than himself. He wanted to do what she was asking of him. For her. But he knew it wouldn’t change his station. Their separated existences. The fact that it was her fighting for him, and not God, on top of everything else, made her wish impossible for him to f
ulfill. His crime of wanting love was nothing compared to what God’s humans committed every day. “Gabriel, I—”
Before he could say sorry, Gabriel rushed forward and Michael released one hand to throw it back at her. Lucifer cried out and lunged, but stumbled on one of the twelve anchors that surrounded the concave. And then it was too late. Gabriel was sucked back into the light like she’d been catapulted. Her silver hair and her legs and arms flung out in front of her as if they were struggling to keep up. Her wings created a protective cocoon around her body. And then she was gone from sight.
Michael grabbed Lucifer and pulled him up to the edge of the looking glass, the archangel’s hands hot as fire. Lucifer bit back a cry as that unrelenting heat speared up his arms to shoot through his heart and out his back. “No!” He foolishly tried to break free, to undo what was already in motion. “No!” He’d gone too far. He’d pushed too hard. Worst of all, he’d been caught out. That’s why Michael was here. Why he was infused with God’s wrathful power. He knew it now as fire burst from the base of his wings, consuming his long black feathers, crackling down and down, burning his skin and turning his bones to hot coals.
His wings fell to cinders, collecting on the ground around his bare feet and over the water’s resettled surface. The weight of his wings was replaced with a sting as his flesh healed over the stubs protruding from his back.
Michael’s voice was as unwavering as it was cold. It was a promise that there was no arguing or repenting to undo what had already been done. “If it is darkness and mayhem you want, Lucifer, then so be it. Perhaps you will find it hard to hate what you now are, human.”
Michael shoved Lucifer and he didn’t fight it as he tipped back. Water erupted all around him as he hit, the glass floor giving way beneath him with a splintering crack—and then he fell.
CHAPTER TWO
Lucifer collided with the earth with an almighty bang, his bones shattering and skin opening in countless lacerations on impact. Dirt erupted up around him at the same time, while a foot-deep indent was left below him. Face down and struggling for breath, he could barely move. All he could see was the fleeting light of dusk as darkness settled over him. As his breaths leveled out, letting him pick up the earthy smells of grass, plants, and dirt, something else registered. More than the agony that roiled his body as his bones reset and his skin pulled back together. More than his mind that was scrambled incoherently. The sensation was feather light. Looking up with a strike of pain, his head now working with his spine almost healed, he saw how correct that description had been. Falling like ash, remnants of what had once been his feathers settled on his healing flesh—his flesh that was drying of silvery-black torrents. Of his blood.
Part angel—and now, part something else.
The rest came back to him as the hemorrhaging in his brain healed itself. Michael. Gabriel. The punishment…and his fall that had taken hours and only seconds at the same time.
Lucifer settled back on his haunches, capturing his raised knees with his arms. Hearing far and wide, he picked up the sounds of wild animals, running water, and beyond that, humans. But the population was small, and he knew why. He’d been banished to a scarcely civilized land, a place on Earth that he’d have the least lives to influence.
Alone again and with Gabriel so far away, his anger resurfaced as he glared upward—and he froze. Something swayed back and forth below the brightening stars, gliding slowly down, down…down. Lucifer held up his hand, letting the white downy feather settle across his palm. “Gabriel.” His chest hurt with his exhaled words while he remembered the fear across her beautiful face. She’d tried to save him. But Michael had arrived, ready to provoke him. Set on the act of banishing Lucifer for good.
Lucifer’s fingers curled around the feather, cranking tight to crush the soft length. And now this… He strained to force his fist to unclench from the anger that shot through his veins like acid. A gift from her. His only supporter. A lifeline. As he looked the feather over, using his forefinger and thumb to straighten out the vanes on either side of the shaft, he felt the power that resonated through it. The power of angels to communicate from one world to the next, and to take flight above or transport below. He knew what Gabriel wanted him to do with this gift of hers—she wanted him to reach out to God. To beg forgiveness.
Lucifer’s nostrils flared at the thought. Gabriel had always seen the good in others, always seen hope even when there was none. God had forsaken him. He’d sent Michael to do his bidding rather than waste his time on the angel he’d given up on long ago. Using this gift from her in that way would be a waste. Lucifer knew the only way now to reach God would be to draw him down here to him. But it wasn’t forgiveness or love he wanted anymore. Those things were not his to hope for. He now realized they never had been. Confronted with this harsh reality, Lucifer’s heart hardened. His loss morphed into burning rage. A flame so bright he would turn this world to ashes. His small crime would be nothing compared to what he would turn God’s humans into. And with this gift he wouldn’t have to toil away decades or even centuries to start making his impression on the world. With this gift, he had a way to speed things up.
Groaning as he got to his feet, Lucifer clambered out of the indent he’d made and stood tall. His back still felt like it was ablaze. The heated pain resonated more and more for every second his body healed from the fall. He had a feeling the lack of relief was meant to be a reminder of his crimes, of being individual and not pandering to God’s every whim. A reminder of wanting something more. Free will—without his wings, he felt the ability to fully act as he wished. Instead of letting the pain conform him, he used it to spur himself on.
Striding forward, only sky was visible above the huge tree-lined clearing he’d landed in. He held the feather out before him, tapping into its angelic power. His lids shut out the starry view and with the flow of unseen water soothing him, he drew the power into himself. The civilization he’d viewed from above rose in his mind, with its stone castle and expansive surrounding town.
The dusty Persian plain rose in his mind like he was seeing it from the looking glass above. Lucifer lifted his free hand, pressing his thumb and middle finger together.
Then he clicked.
Lucifer collapsed where he landed, firelight from a stone pit warming the air and his tender skin. The room he was in was empty but for the blankets, bed, and benches that filled the space. A gentle breeze floated through a window opening that glimpsed out at a glowing moon. The feather was gone from Lucifer’s hand, and as he struggled to rise he heard a sound. Following the shuffling, he stumbled to the fine cloth that covered an open doorway.
“It has grown late. I…I must retire.” The voice was male and young, and somewhat shaky. As Lucifer used the wall for support and peeked through the cloth he saw why. The chamber, illuminated by dozens of candles on surfaces and stands, was not empty. Dressed in a royal robe, with bright blues and gold, the young man was backing away from a group of three partly clothed women. Terror widened his eyes as one dropped her draping cover to stand naked and the other two reached for him, forcing him to back up to a large bed of blankets. “I mean no disrespect. I…”
Lucifer lost his grip on the wall and fell into the bedchamber. The women gasped, and to Lucifer’s surprise the young man came forward, keeping the women, including the one who scrambled to redress, behind him.
“You are no guard or servant. You are trespassing in my kingdom.”
Despite his clear inexperience with the women, this boy was not a nobody. Lucifer smiled up at the royal, knowing he made the right choice to come here and to this place. Unlike his report and subtle influences to display human nature that had been passed over, his influence this time would be un-ignorable. “You are the King of Persia.” As he had on every human he’d influenced in the past, he used the power of his compelling gaze. He implored the boy to feel at ease with his presence. To be open to suggestion. “May we speak alone?”
The king’s eyes
narrowed, studying Lucifer as if seeing something that confused and peaked his curiosity. Eventually, he nodded and glanced at the women, hiking his chin towards a closed door. “You may all retire of this night. I will call the guards if I need them.” Though the women looked concerned, they obediently slipped from the room. Now alone together, he palmed the sword around his waist and knelt down to Lucifer’s level. His brown eyes flicked from behind Lucifer then to his face. “What is that silver? And what happened to your back?”
After the fire that had taken his wings, his robe had been left with singed holes, which along with his spilled blood worked in his favor. “I am sent from the heavens.” Lucifer sent a smirk toward the closed door the women had left through. “You are a new king. An inexperienced one. Though with me by your side, you could be great. A name that would never be forgotten. A kingdom that would rise above all others.”
The young king’s shoulders slouched with a long exhale. He seemed to think Lucifer’s words over, rubbing his forehead as he ambled across the chamber and slouched onto the bed. “I want to make my father proud. Yet I am not ruthless like he was. War is so devastating…”
As the young man’s eyes glazed, Lucifer could have read the past even if he hadn’t glimpsed parts of it from above. This new, inexperienced king had been thrown into this position after his ruling father died in battle. Lucifer chose his words carefully. “True, though it is the way of the world and a must to keep your people safe. A must that, as your new advisor, I will take care of. And the women…”