Angel of Distrust

by Tabitha Barret

  A few steps from safety, she pushed herself a little harder. She rounded the bend to reach the patio only to slam into the chest of her pursuer. She had no way of bracing her fall and no energy to resist the pull of gravity as it threw her onto the unyielding pathway. Her head cracked against the wood and her vision blurred. She saw movement above her, but was unable to see clearly enough to defend herself. Her arms flailed around trying to hit anything near her, but quickly lost their will to move as darkness consumed her thoughts.

  Viktor watched her rebound off his chest and fall to the ground. He felt guilty that she had been knocked unconscious after a bit of flailing around. As dainty as she appeared to be, he knew she had an inner strength unlike any other, which made him wonder why he was still alive. It had been risky and foolish of him to grab her, but he doubted that any explanation of who he was and what he wanted from her would win her affection. Either way, she would try to kill him if she knew what he was planning to do.

  Staring down at her for the first time in forever, he tried to remain detached and unemotional. He told himself for the millionth time that he didn’t want to know anything about her, not even her name. She was a means to an end, nothing more. His resolve crumbled with each passing second as he gazed at her sunburnt face, untamed locks, and unusual choice in clothing. He crouched down next to her with the intention of picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder to take her to his boat, but touching her soft skin made him abandon his simple plan.

  His hand trembled as he reached for her sand-covered cheek. He felt like a lout for touching her while she was unconscious because of their altercation, but he was helpless to resist. His fingertips brushed her delicate jaw and slim neck. Underneath the blisters on her skin and the smudged dirt, she had high cheekbones, long, lush lashes, and full red lips that had been destroyed by the lack of hydration.

  He examined the top half of her peculiar outfit, which appeared to have once been an ornate gown that had been bastardized to save her from the hazards of the island. He could imagine her dancing on a cruise ship under the moonlight or having drinks on a private yacht after a wedding. It was possible she had been attending a party at the demolished resort he had spied while circling the island for the best place to start his search. Something didn’t feel right about that scenario since the resort would have made every effort to get their guests to safety. Regardless of how she had gotten to the island, he had to get her away from here as soon as possible. If the demon were to be believed, she was being hunted by an enemy.

  His eyes fell upon the glowing blue manacles around her slim wrists. At first, he thought they were glow sticks fashioned into bracelets until he noticed that she was unable to separate her hands. They were warm to the touch, but more interestingly, they didn’t have a keyhole or any noticeable way to remove them. Whatever they were, they were no party favor or fashion accessory. It seemed that her enemy was indeed on the island, and had already made his move against her.

  The longer he tried to see past the damage done to her on this island, the angrier he got. He had no idea what she was doing here and why she was in such a state of distress, but he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was on a mission and he fully intended on getting what he wanted.

  Scanning the area one last time, he didn’t see anyone else on the patio. It had been a stroke of luck that she had followed the barking dogs right to him. He had cursed himself for making too much noise, but rejoiced when his target had run into the jungle to find them. Though he hadn’t see her face, his heart immediately knew who she was.

  Grateful that he had captured her without much trouble, he pushed away his concern for her and focused on their escape from the island. He shoved his hands underneath her limp body and hoisted her into his arms. Looking down at her peaceful face, he prayed for the strength to do what needed to be done.

  ∞

  Haydn whipped his head around when he heard Anjali’s faithful mutts yapping and crying. He didn’t know what they were barking at, but Anjali was gone. He craned his neck to see through the potted plants at the edge of the patio, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had thought for a moment he’d heard a sound off in the trees, but had been too consumed by the delirium and throbbing pain to pay attention to his surroundings. It was possible that the Predznak had found her, but it wasn’t their style to sneak around, with the exception of Sacha. The others would have undoubtedly given him some grand speech about being a loser before using their combined power to kill him.

  He paused when he thought about facing Death, Fear and Vengeance, the three angel she had mentioned. Standing before them should be enough to make him rethink his course of action, but he had fought them before. Admittedly, he hadn’t fought them together and Tristan had been a wreck the last time they had quarreled, but still, he believed he could take them in a fight. If nothing else, Balthazar would honor their pact and put him out of his misery quickly.

  Focusing on his current problem, he gulped when he thought about someone else trying to capture Anjali, though he had no idea who would be stupid enough to kidnap the Destroyer, aside from a fucked up Predznak. Regardless of who or what might have lured her into the jungle, he had to make sure that no one else took her. She was still a threat to the world if someone managed to remove her shackles.

  Struggling to free himself from the lounge chair, he accidentally tipped over into the pool. He cursed his impulsiveness, but his gut told him to find her as fast as possible.

  He looked down at the ropes holding him to the chair. It would take time to free himself while fighting the crippling pain. Even if he were brave enough to summon a Predznak that wasn’t under Anjali’s control, he couldn’t do it while under the water. His only option was to drown as many times as necessary to get out of the ropes and hunt down Anjali’s captor. At the very least, he could seek vengeance against the one who took her life, which seemed like a hollow pursuit at the moment.

  He twisted and turned his legs to loosen the ropes before his air supply ran out and the water began to fill his lungs. He had to find her before someone else took her head, which might cause the deaths of at least three Predznak.

  ∞

  Alazar watched the sun approach the watery horizon and suppressed a shiver. One more day closer to his deadline and he still didn’t have an answer for his master. He’d been sitting on the cold, rain-soaked beach for nearly one month, trying to make the hardest choice of his life. Volunteering to become the Angel of Death had been simple compared to this. Now he was facing an ultimatum that would change everything. Should he stand by Anjali’s side and help her end the world, or should he return home to Heaven and be relieved of his burdens? He could once again rejoice in God’s light and love. He had been agonizing over this dilemma since being banished from her sight. She told him that he had to make his decision without her influence; therefore, he had left Hell and come straight here. The sound of the ocean rushing to meet the shore typically helped him think, but this time it only made him feel depressed.

  He had made a mistake when he questioned Anjali’s authority in regards to accepting Tristan as her Predznak. He had realized his faux pas and apologized, but it had been too late. She told him that she needed someone who would stay by her side and carry out her commands, even if he disagreed with her. He was allowed to voice his opinion, but in the end, she was the master and she alone must make the final decision. Aside from his issues with Tristan, which had been there since the day they became Predznak, he believed that he could carry out her will, or rather, he wanted to carry it out, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough anymore after the incident in the Realm of Nightmares.

  Anjali believed that the pain and humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the Nightmare prisoners had shaken his confidence in his abilities and had altered him. Despite fighting the Predznak and various enemies over the years, he had never been attacked by the mortals he had condemned. Their hatred of him and their condemnation still rang in his ears.


  Staring at the waves, he recalled Azazel telling him that Anjali was trapped inside the Realm of Nightmares. Stupidly, he had believed the traitor and willingly followed him into the labyrinthic prison where the infamous prisoners were held. He realized too late that it was a trap. Brend and Pax had been waiting for him with Celestial Bonds inside one of the long corridors as Azazel cut off his escape. Malcolm had also fallen victim to their lies and had already been lying helplessly bound on the floor. A horde of prisoners that Alazar had personally tempted over the centuries, who weren’t happy that they had chosen the path of evil, attacked them both, even though it had been their decision to commit evil acts, not his. They were swarmed and beaten, while they berated Alazar. They had called him a traitor, an abomination, a murderer and claimed that he should be chained up instead of them. They said that he was weak and would never be able to eradicate all the evil in the world.

  Locked in the bonds, he had never felt so helpless in his life, not even when Maraquette had wounded and captured him. His power was gone and his strength had been stripped away in an instant, but this time, there was no one to save him. Had he been mortal, he would have died from his injuries. Anjali had found them and rescued them but the damage had already been done.

  Normally, he didn’t care what his temptees thought of him, but this was different. Their harsh view of him played upon his fears of failing as the Angel of Death and failing Anjali. She had been right about him being altered. The problem was he wasn’t sure if he could be the angel she needed and carry out her will to tempt the mortals and ultimately end the world. Sadly, he only had a few more days to figure out the truth.

  “You’d think sitting your pale ass on a beach for almost a month would have earned you a decent tan, yet you still look like shit. Did someone attempt to build a sandcastle around you, or have you not moved since your banishment? You might want to remove the seaweed from your leather pants. It’s embarrassing.” Alazar didn’t have to turn around to know who was mocking him.

  “I thought she was going to leave me alone to figure out what I wanted to do. I still have a few more days left. Is she that eager for me to return to work?” Alazar turned and squinted at his least favorite brother, Tristan—the reason for his misery. If the asshole hadn’t made the deal with God that stated he could simply quit being the Angel of Fear and return home on a whim, he would be blissfully at Anjali’s side, or at least by her side, trying to work past his trauma.

  “No. We have bigger problems than you. Even if you made your choice, which I doubt you have since you look like you’ve been shipwrecked for a year instead of gleefully flaunting the fact that you are able to go back home, it doesn’t matter. You’re not going anywhere, at least not for the foreseeable future,” Tristan replied tersely.

  Alazar wanted to give Tristan the finger. He looked oddly out of place in his dark gray suit and loafers standing on the windy shoreline. Balthazar was standing a step behind Tristan, which irked him. It seemed that Vengeance was allowing Fear to take the lead.

  “What are you talking about? Did she send you to tell me that I can’t go home? Is she reneging on her promise? Let me guess, you’ve finally decided to use your get out of jail free card and return home. I assume she will want me to train your replacement which will delay my return to Heaven, if I make that choice,” Alazar sneered. He was fuming at this latest dilemma. Though he hadn’t made up his mind yet, the thought of having his choice taken away from him burned his ass. He was forever being kicked in the teeth by Tristan and it was time to seek vengeance.

  Growling like a man without hope, he launched himself at Tristan’s waist before he could reply. He knocked him off his feet and they both landed in the sand. His hands were wrapped around Tristan’s collared throat, choking the life out of him. It felt good to finally squeeze the breath out of his waste of a brother. Centuries of pent-up anger and aggression rose up as he shook Tristan by the neck. He let out a battle cry and threw his fist into Tristan’s face.

  Tristan didn’t block the punch but threw one in retaliation. His fist landed squarely against Alazar’s jaw. The cracking sound echoed along the beach.

  Balthazar tapped his foot in the sand and raised his scarred eyebrow at them. “This is ridiculous, Alazar, let Tristan go. This is just pathetic. You are both embarrassments because you fight like children,” he said as he crouched down and shook his head at them. “I’m offended that you insisted on me learning how to fight when neither of you can throw a decent punch. I should kill you both and lead this motley crew, once I find the other Predznak.” He stood and pulled up the collar of his leather duster to block the ocean spray.

  “Stay out of this, Balthazar, or you’re next. I’ll show you how hard I can punch. I still owe you for the daggers you threw into my stomach—the daggers I gave to you as a gift,” Alazar grunted. “How dare you defer your judgement to Tristan and allow him to speak on your behalf. Neither of you could ever lead the Predznak!” He slammed his fist into Tristan’s perfect nose and laughed maniacally.

  “That reminds me, I want my daggers back,” Balthazar replied as he gave him the finger. “It’s true that neither one of us could lead the Predznak, which is why I’m standing on this frigid beach instead of searching for Lady Black. We have already wasted too much time searching every warm sun-lit beach for you. I wanted to know why the hell you are moping around in Scotland when I thought you would be in Hawaii.”

  Alazar blocked Tristan’s attempt to elbow him and looked up at Balthazar. “What are you talking about? Where is Lady Black?”

  Tristan kicked his knee up and landed a solid shot against Alazar’s back. Alazar was too busy wincing to see the punch that cut off the air supply to his windpipe. Gasping for air, he rolled off Tristan.

  Tristan popped to his feet and dusted the sand off his suit. Tristan looked like he wanted to kick him in the face, but Balthazar shook his head, indicating that the fight was over. Alazar quickly realized that Balthazar was favoring his right wrist and Tristan was sporting a bruise on his forehead that couldn’t have happened during their fight.

  “God I hate you sometimes, Alazar,” Tristan huffed as he wiped the blood off his lip and nose. “We don’t know where Lady Black is, that’s why we are here. As far as I’m concerned, you are still a Predznak, and right now our Master needs us.”

  Alazar tried to shake off the pain in his back as he slowly got to his feet. “What’s happened?” he asked, putting aside his hatred of Tristan.

  “The Nachtghuls lost communication with her over 36 hours ago, which means she’s wearing Celestial Bonds or gravely injured,” Balthazar explained succinctly.

  Tristan folded his arms. “Lucifer sent her on a suicide mission to find the last Harpy, and before you say anything, Hades confirmed the creature’s existence. Apparently, Hades has been keeping her a secret and furthermore, he revealed that Celaeno’s primary mission is to kill the Destroyer. I’m not clear on all the details since Hades disappeared shortly after a brawl with Lucifer, who is also missing. Currently, Malcolm is in charge of the Throne Room, which as you can recall, is a very bad thing. Any enemy or traitor could challenge Malcolm for the throne. We can’t have the Destroyer in the hands of an enemy and Hell can’t be without its rulers. We must find Lady Black before everything falls apart,” Tristan grumbled while he popped his nose back into place.

  Alazar was stunned. “How did you manage to fuck things up this badly in my absence?”

  Rolling his eyes, Tristan stepped forward to engage him in battle again, but Balthazar tugged on his arm to stop him.

  “Who says that you would have done any better?” Balthazar said as he stepped between them. “Regardless of how it happened, we need to fix the problem.”

  Alazar ground his teeth in frustration. “I hate when you’re logical, Balthazar. I prefer it when you are stoic and punching things,” he sneered. He ran his hand through his hair and looked out across the sand. “Where are we headed?”

  Tri
stan shook his head. “First, we need to decide how to secure the Throne Room. Liam is patrolling the walkway and entrance to the Throne Room, but he isn’t savvy enough to know whom to trust. Calin insisted on securing the Hall of Mirrors, which is the best place for him. He’ll die before he allows anyone to usurp Anjali’s throne. We need someone stronger than Malcolm to secure the Skull Throne,” he said.

  Alazar closed his eyes and thought about sitting on the Skull Throne once again. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the right mindset to stand beside Malcolm and protect Hell.

  “Balthazar should go. Any enemy who sees the armory beneath his duster will think twice about attacking. Besides, he needs time for his wrist to heal. Make sure to conceal the injury until it’s better,” Alazar said assertively.

  Tristan tilted his head. “You want to leave the fate of Hell in the hands of Balthazar? I never thought I would see the day when Death was afraid of something. You told me that you offered yourself up to Serena and her twisted punishments and took the brunt of Lucifer’s fists to spare us from pain and humiliation, yet here you stand afraid of assuming control of Hell. Where is the Alazar who marched alongside Aeries and tempted the mortals who tried to conquer foreign lands in Father’s name? Where is the almighty Angel of Death who tempted some of the worst despots to ever walk in the Mortal Realm? I certainly don’t see him standing on this beach. Instead, I see me, the old me who questioned every decision every damned day. I don’t know if I want to cry for the loss of our former, albeit less than perfect leader, or smugly say now you know what it was like to be me for thousands of years,” Tristan scoffed.

  Alazar wanted to be angry with Tristan, but he was speaking the truth. After years of condemning Tristan’s inability to get through the day without help, he was no better. He was screwing up royally all because he was afraid.

  “I can’t fail her again,” Alazar whispered.