Blood Redemption (Angel's Edge #3)

by Vicki Keire

  That’s when Ethan stepped into the light. Holding the sword before him with one hand and me with the other, he stalked closer to the fighting. At the first sight of Ethan, Belial abruptly ended his assault and turned his entire attention to us.

  “What a pretty toy,” he said, letting go of Asheroth entirely.

  “Azazel’s blade is more than a toy,” Ethan practically spat at him. “Come closer and let me show you what it can do.”

  Belial’s face twisted into a snarl. “Don’t think you can hide behind that forever, brother.” He said this last word as if it were the worst curse he knew. “I brought her here, and I can take her back whenever I want.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Ethan said softly, Azazel’s blade extended before him. He gently pushed me away and into Asheroth’s waiting stone arms. I didn’t want to let go, and I scrabbled uselessly at Asheroth’s leather jacket, trying to get back to the man I loved.

  “Stop it,” Asheroth ordered tersely. His hold on me got tighter. I stilled myself to watch the unfolding drama.

  Belial sneered. “I know all about you and your new mortality. The girl couldn’t wait to tell me.” He rose from his crouch so that he stood facing Ethan. The similarities were eerie; it was like looking into a mirror twisted by hate. There was one glaring difference, though; Ethan’s eyes grew brighter and brighter as they faced off while Belial’s seemed to absorb all light like a black hole.

  “Stay away from her,” Ethan ordered.

  “As you stayed away from my wife all those years ago?” Belial’s words were deceptively soft.

  “That’s not what happened,” Ethan refused to be baited. “I never killed…”

  Ethan didn’t get to finish his sentence before Belial charged him. I watched as Ethan sunk Azazel’s blade deep into his mirror image’s side. On a mortal, it would have been a killing blow. To Belial, it was merely crippling. He fell, mid rush; a viscous dark liquid seeped from him, just as it had when my Shadows attacked him. He clutched his side in amazement, and for a moment, something like fear flit across his face. Then he was standing, holding the wound with one hand while what must have been angel’s blood seeped through his fingers.

  “I will kill you,” Belial said, slowly as if he wasn’t bleeding copiously right in front of us. He spoke softly, almost conversationally as if he had all the time in the world. “I will kill you, and Caspia, and all you hold dear until all trace and memory of you has been wiped from the face of the earth.” He spared a glance for me. “Don’t think this is over,” he said, more harshly.

  I winced; it was a tone that promised destruction and hate and other dark things.

  “I took you once. I can do it again.”

  Abyss wings sprang into life behind his back, taller than any I’d ever seen before. The chill otherworldliness of a forming portal rushed over me, and before I could blink, Belial was gone, leaving a pool of dark liquid where he had been.

  he moon had been full when I was taken. Now it was a half orb of brilliant light. That meant at least two weeks had passed here while I was in the Twilight Kingdom. The night air was cool, and smelled incredibly fresh. It was a welcome change after the dank indoors and heavy stone corridors. I took huge, deep breaths that smelled of pine and water. Somewhere beyond the tree line the St. Clare River rushed on, its muted roar a comforting backdrop to the sounds of night in the South: the swelling song of crickets and cicadas, an owl in the distance, leaves moving through wind.

  I hadn’t known demons could bleed. I had seen Ethan fight for me before, and take some pretty hard blows, but never had I seen an angel, Fallen or otherwise, actually bleed. When I had cut Asheroth with my daggers, I’d sliced through his armor first, leaving little more than a scratch on his skin. But I’d cut Belial deep. I kept seeing the same horrible image again and again: the blade sliding into Belial’s side, and the way his smooth marble skin had ruptured, leaking thick, black ichor.

  But I had more important things to think about at the moment.

  I was home. Belial was gone. And Asheroth was still holding on to one of my arms.

  There was no reason for him to hold me back anymore. My self-appointed guardian must have realized this when I did because he made no move to stop me when I shook him off and took two hesitant steps toward the man I loved.

  Ethan came to the same realization because he dropped the sword to the ground with a clatter and turned to face me, an expression on his face as full of wonder as it was of disbelief. “Is it really you?” he said faintly.

  We closed the distance between us. He slid his strong hand down my forearm where his thumb brushed over the silver wire of his bracelet and began to trace small circles against my pulse. “Are you really here?” His river-bright eyes were full of fear and hope, flecks of green and blue at war with themselves.

  I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “I think so,” I answered hesitantly. I had been stuck for what seemed like forever in Belial’s kingdom and now I was free. Even if home now consisted of Asheroth’s compound instead of my cozy apartment overlooking Old Town Square, it didn’t really matter. I belonged with Ethan, and he with me. Everything else was secondary.

  I didn’t get very far in my musings before Ethan took me by the other forearm and held me at arm’s length. I wanted to melt into his arms, but he wouldn’t let me. He seemed determined to check me for damage first. I was acutely conscious of my appearance: wild-haired and wearing the tattered shreds of what had already been a revealing evening gown. I felt exposed and strangely shy. He looked me over from head to toe, chewing on a corner of his lip in concern. “Did he… are you…” He swallowed hard, like he really didn’t want to ask the question, but had to. “Did he hurt you?”

  I thought of the blow to my head when I first arrived in Belial’s realm. I thought of the way my hand had crumpled like glass when I punched him. I thought of these things and looked at the worry in Ethan’s eyes, and gave him my bravest small smile. “It doesn’t matter. I’m okay now,” I offered, which was as close to the truth as I wanted to get at the moment. Later there would be time to fill him in on all the details of my stay in the Twilight Kingdom. I knew telling him right now would upset him, and I didn’t want my Ethan any more upset.

  I wanted him in my arms.

  Ethan let out a pent up sigh of long held frustration, and pulled me into a gentle embrace. “I can tell when you’re lying, you know.” He whispered into my hair.

  “I’m not lying,” I protested. “I’m fine now. Totally and completely well. Better than fine, actually, because I’m here.” I wove my fingers together until they rested in the small of his back, pulling him tightly toward me. “With you.”

  Behind us, Asheroth snorted. I ignored him. When Ethan ran his fingers up my neck, I forgot all about my guardian. Everything melted away until there was nothing but us: no demon blood, no mad Fallen angels, no broken wards. There was nothing but Ethan’s hand cupping the back of my neck, bringing my head down until I could feel his breath on my cheek. Then our lips touched, and the world around me exploded into fire.

  Soft and gently urgent, I kissed him back. My senses were filled with nothing but Ethan: his scent of citrus and the fresh green of growing things; the soft warmth of his skin; the tender, but protective way he held me; the faintest hint of stubble on the skin under my palms. I cradled his face in my palms, deepening the kiss. It became something larger than both of us. Hungry and needy, it was as if we were trying to pour all the time apart into one desperate action. He pulled me flush against his warm, solid body. A little cry escaped me; it had been so, so long. Because of the time difference in the Twilight Kingdom, it had been even longer for him, and he clutched me to him as if to negate this fact.

  As our breathing grew ragged and the kisses more desperate, cold stone fingers descended on my shoulder. I tried to shake them off. After all, I had more important things going on here. But the hand refused to move. It shook me gently, loosening Ethan’s tight hold on me, and I wanted to
shout in frustration. Couldn’t he leave us alone for one measly minute?

  “Actually, it’s been more like fifteen,” a voice I recognized too well said acerbically. Asheroth. Trust him to be the one to break us apart. It took me a moment to realize I had spoken out loud. I blushed. Even Ethan seemed sheepish. I broke the kiss to bury my face in his leather-clad shoulder.

  “What do you want?” I growled.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking of how I fought to save your life back there. You’re welcome, by the way.” Asheroth’s tone was one of barely restrained fury. “And while we’re at it, I think the events of a few minutes ago deserve some discussion. Don’t you?”

  “If we must,” Ethan said softly, smoothing back my hair. He wrapped an arm around me and moved me until he had tucked me into his side. I fit perfectly against him, our hips touching, and the sides of our bodies locked together. I never wanted to leave.

  And I really, really resented Asheroth for the interruption. I nuzzled Ethan’s neck, ready to forget about mad Fallen angels for an eternity.

  But mad Fallen angels weren’t ready to forget about me. I barely had time to register the cold, statue-like hand that wrapped itself around my arm. He yanked me from Ethan’s grasp and held me away from him.

  But not so far that I could ignore the burning rage buried in his diamond eyes.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he shouted at me. I winced at the force of the anger in his voice. “Do you have the faintest idea what this has cost us?”

  Ethan was at my side in an instant, pulling on Asheroth’s arm. “Let her go, Ash,” he said with a growl lacing his words. “It’s not her fault.”

  “I would have thought you’d be happy to see me,” I said to him. My eyes snapped silver in the moonlight; I could feel my own banked fury boiling over.

  “You have broken our wards,” he hissed, low and deadly. “By bringing that… creature here, you have ensured that he can do it again, and again, and again… as many times as he wants.”

  “Put her down, Asheroth,” Ethan said again. There was steel buried in his voice now, and even the mad Fallen angel noticed. I looked to see Ethan holding Azazel’s sword in his hands once again. The blade was still dark with blood under the shadow of the half moon. “Let her go, or I swear I will cut you down.”

  He stood, straight and tall, unafraid for his own safety. Inwardly, I wanted to cheer. There was little which Asheroth was afraid of, but this blade was definitely on the list. I knew because I had once cut him with one of my daggers, made of the same material as the blade Ethan held now.

  I realized that Belial must have them now. I had given the demon the ability to injure angels and humans alike when I was taken to the Twilight Kingdom. With a pang of fresh guilt, I knew that this really was all my fault.

  “You’re right,” I said in a whisper. “Asheroth’s right. None of this would have happened if not for me, and my stupid plans. I should never have tried to shut the both of you out.” Fresh tears sprang to my eyes. “Never.”

  All of a sudden, the punishing hold Asheroth held me in turned into a bone-crushing hug. “If you ever, and I mean ever, do something like that to me again, I will hunt you down and… haunt you, or something.” He buried his cold face in my hair. I thought―for just a minute―that something like a tear wet my cheek. But it must have been my imagination, because angels, even Fallen ones, didn’t cry.

  Did they?

  “We’re not safe here,” Asheroth said into my hair. He lowered me gently to the ground. “The compound has been compromised.” He didn’t remind me again that it was my fault, for which I was grateful.

  “What are our options?” Ethan asked. He was at my side again, his arm around my shoulder possessive and strong.

  “Stay here and risk Belial coming back for her, or travel… elsewhere. We’ll have to go to one of the other Guardians,” Asheroth said. “To Blackwood Lodge.”

  Blackwood Lodge was where we’d hidden Logan. No matter what the consequences of my actions would be, at least I would get to see my brother again. I ignored the warning that clenched in my gut: that my presence would make it easier for Belial to find Logan, and focused on the silver lining, however small, instead.

  stood beside Ethan, his arms wrapped tight around me as we stared into the portal to Blackwood Lodge.

  “Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

  My voice shook a little as I lingered in front of the arch-shaped vortex. It swirled with dull colors: dingy white and smoky gray, shot through with threads of black. It looked hungry and angry. “You want me to walk through that?” I asked again, for the tenth time since I’d first seen it. Doubt and fear rocked me, even though two of the people I trusted most in the world stood on either side of me.

  “It will be fine,” Ethan whispered into my ear. I shivered a little at the sensation, and pulled closer to him.

  On the other side of me, Asheroth actually groaned before enunciating as if for a very small, and not particularly bright, child. “This is the portal that will take us to the Western Guardians. The Blackwood family, remember them?”

  “How could I forget?” I eyed the hellish-looking opening warily. It didn’t inspire confidence.

  “You’ll like Blackwood Lodge,” Ethan promised, taking my hand in his. “It’s… different.”

  “Plus, there’s the small fact that you set my house on fire and broke my wards. There’s really no place else.” Asheroth snorted.

  “And I know you want to see your brother,” said Ethan.

  Logan! He was the best thing about this whole crazy plan. I would get to see him after what seemed like months of absence, when really it had only been a few days for me, and a couple of weeks for him. And Cassandra and Mrs. Alice would be there, too.

  Holding tightly to Ethan’s hand, I prepared to step into the whirling gray vortex. No one was more surprised than me when Asheroth took my other hand. My mad Fallen angel was not a touchy-feely kind of guy. His preferred method of contact was to hold me by the back of the neck like a puppy. But this time, he held me lightly as if I was made of papier-mâché and might rupture at any minute. Knowing his strength, it was just possible that I might.

  We stepped forward into the portal itself. It was so disorienting; the world of Asheroth’s compound disappeared around me, and I was left in what felt like a state of temporal nothingness. I was neither here nor there, but somewhere in between, with no anchor but the man I loved and the Fallen angel I feared as much as I trusted.

  Just as I was thinking of Asheroth and calculating the odds of my safety, a familiar electric darkness sparked from my palms. It shocked me because always before, the Shadows appeared gradually, creeping over my hands with agonizing slowness. They had never felt like sparks before. The feeling was one of angry ants marching outwards from my palm. I felt uneasy; I didn’t like it that the dark part of me was doing something unpredictable.

  And then I watched in horror as the Shadows turned into literal fireworks, sparking from my hands and exploding like a dark Fourth of July. I tried as hard as I could to force the Shadows back into myself, but I knew from bitter experience that they would not respond. There was nothing to do but let out the darkness and hope no one got hurt.

  The vortex must have been feeding them somehow, providing the energy the Shadows needed to become wildly unpredictable and dangerous. Even I didn’t know the full potential of what it was that broke out on my hands, and sometimes swallowed my entire body. I knew my ability could be deadly to mortals and immortals alike. With a cry, I wrenched my hands from both Ethan’s and Asheroth’s. I was untethered now―not alone, exactly, but unpinned like I was spinning alone in space. I struggled to connect with something, anything, and could find only the vortex and my own electric fire.

  Stone hands anchored on my shoulders. Asheroth. He pushed me from behind, so hard the strength of him bruised me. Asheroth’s efforts must have worked because the void vanished and fell forward through the por
tal. Momentarily blinded, I landed on my hands and knees. Roughly cut grass rubbed against my skin. Newly and unevenly mowed, it tickled my nose with its sharp, pungent scent. I wanted nothing more than to collapse on the ground right in front of me.

  But Ethan wouldn’t let me. He pulled me up, brushing my hair from my face. “What happened back there?” he asked, quietly disturbed. I could read the urgency in his eyes. “I’m not sure,” I had to admit. “It was frightening, though. That was more powerful than anything I’ve felt before. And it seemed like I had even less control than usual.” Not for the first time, I wondered if I was a danger to my friends and allies.

  To distract myself, I tried to take in as much of my new surroundings as I could. We stood in a low meadow, bright with sunlight and dotted with wildflowers. Copses of trees cast inviting patches of shadow around the perimeter. A small brook wound its way through the trees at the edge of the clearing, gurgling musically. The air smelled wonderful here―fresh and full of promise. It was even better than the air around Asheroth’s compound.

  “I don’t know everything I can do yet,” I said. “I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m glad I didn’t hurt anyone. I couldn’t forgive myself if I did that.”

  Ethan shushed me with a gentle kiss to the top of my head. He laced my hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “The wards must have sensed her as a threat.” Asheroth came to stand beside me.

  I didn’t blame him for his caution. If normal Shadows could hurt someone as powerful as Belial, how much worse would unpredictable ones be?

  Asheroth shrugged and gave me a look that was impossible to interpret. “Maybe they still sense some of the Twilight Kingdom on you.”