The older angel smiled slowly and drew one of his curved silver blades.
Amelia screamed.
“Marcus!”
CHAPTER 21
Lightning split the sky above Paris and Marcus looked up at the raging clouds. Was it his doing? There was so much darkness in the world and in his heart right now, fury that threatened to seize control of him and lead him into unleashing his burning desire for destruction. The feeling pounded in him like a drum, a beat which his heart followed, growing darker by the second as he watched the thunderstorm.
He screamed at the sky and a bright purple fork of lightning slammed down into the heart of the city, shaking the earth and sending car alarms blaring. It wasn’t enough. The darkness within him needed to be sated and he was growing weary of resisting the urge to unfurl his wings and fly after Amelia. He wanted to see her again and he would do anything to achieve that. He would disobey his orders and go to Heaven. There were ways in, methods that he could use.
He needed to see Amelia.
What would she think of him if she saw him like this and knew the black feelings he held within his heart? If she knew the limits of his desire to reach her and the lengths he would go to in order to achieve it, she would no longer believe him a good man.
He wasn’t.
The image she had of him was a lie.
He would kill all in his way in his quest to find her again. He couldn’t be the good man that she wanted him to be, not when he was feeling like this. The lust for violence was too strong to ignore.
He hadn’t been able to contain it during the discussion with the others and had left when the women had started to look afraid again, seeking the balcony so he could be alone with his black thoughts.
Lightning crashed down again, further away this time, illuminating the landscape surrounding Paris. The clouds were so black that they blocked out the day and had caused the streetlights to come on. Rain poured, saturating him, slicking his black hair to his head, but he didn’t care. He relished the cold feel of it against his skin, sapping his warmth, and stood staring out at the city, his heart burning in his chest, ablaze with the desire for vengeance.
Lysander had taken Amelia from him. Heaven had taken her from him.
He wanted her back.
The streets were empty below him. The park was void of life. The sensible residents of Paris had remained indoors. That knowledge only weakened his grip on his power. With so many hiding away in the buildings, he could unleash Hell on Earth with only minimal casualties. If anyone was foolish enough to be outside when a thunderstorm of this magnitude was hanging over the city, then they deserved what they got.
Marcus frowned and clenched his fists. Amelia would hate him for thinking such a thing. She had offered him forgiveness and it hadn’t changed him. He wished that it had. He wanted to be a good man for her, one that she could love, but it was impossible when he was in so much pain.
“They don’t deserve your wrath,” Einar said from behind him and Marcus looked over his shoulder.
Einar’s tawny long hair was already soaked through, unruly curls of it tufting out behind his ears. His deep brown eyes held Marcus’s silver-blue ones, and a sense of peace grew inside him, chasing away some of the darkness in his heart.
“You are even starting to scare Taylor… although she does her best not to let it show.” Einar moved forwards and leaned his elbows against the buckled black railings.
The rain continued to pour down, sticking Einar’s black t-shirt to his chest. Water trickled in rivulets down Marcus’s skin beneath his blue breastplate and soaked into his loincloth, making him uncomfortable.
He closed his eyes and drew long deep breaths to calm himself and claw back control over his power. The thunder eased and the rain lightened to drizzle that chilled his skin. Long minutes passed before the lightning ceased completely and he found some balance. They would depart for Hell soon and he would be able to find out more about Amelia’s destiny and why Heaven had made Apollyon kill her. The memory of that moment threatened to push him out of control again, sending pain deep into his heart until he felt as though he was dying again.
Amelia.
He wanted to see her. He wanted to make her smile and make her feel safe.
She had been so scared.
He realised that now.
When she had gone with Lysander and Marcus had seen that her eyes were normal again, that she was becoming the woman he loved, he had been too confused to take in the feelings in her grey gaze. It was only now that he had replayed that moment countless times that he could see that she had been afraid of leaving him, but she had done so anyway, had gone through with it so he and his fellow angels wouldn’t have to fight again.
She had wanted to spare him pain but he was suffering more now than he would have been if a battle had ensued.
He needed to see her.
Orders meant nothing to him anymore. He wanted to believe in Heaven, just as Lukas did, but their actions had stripped him of his faith and had left him broken. He no longer trusted them. After centuries as their obedient soldier, as a dutiful son of Heaven, he was finally following his own orders. It was difficult for him to adjust and disobey his master but he had to. They had driven him to this.
The rain let up and the clouds began to lighten, drifting away and breaking apart to reveal patches of blue sky.
Marcus drew a deep breath and made his decision.
He couldn’t wait to see what Hell revealed.
He needed to go to Amelia.
He went to unfurl his wings but they wouldn’t come. This time, they didn’t appear at all, not even for the briefest time. He focused on them and a familiar prickling sensation formed where they should have been. The curse. It had bothered him before too, prior to Heaven ordering him to remain on Earth.
Why?
He needed his wings.
Marcus looked across at Einar. “Help me with something.”
Einar nodded and then his brown eyes widened when Marcus removed his breastplate and the back plate of his armour. He looked over his shoulders, trying to see the curse marks, but they were too far down.
“My wings won’t come,” Marcus said and turned his back to Einar. “What do they look like?”
Einar stepped up to him and ran his fingers over the elaborate marks on his back. “They are shifting like sunlight on water. What are you thinking about?”
Marcus tried to see them again. He had seen the marks in a mirror before when the curse had been active and the colours had shifted then, rippling with lighter and darker hues of blue.
“I was going to disobey my orders to remain outside Heaven and go after Amelia.” Marcus looked at Einar to gauge his reaction.
Einar’s expression turned pensive. “And when did you have a problem with them before that?”
“When Amelia died… I wanted to go to Heaven and question my superior.” Marcus looked up at the broken clouds and the shafts of sunlight streaming down onto Paris. “Before that, it was when Amelia came under attack and I saved her, just before I came to see you.”
“When you escaped the Hell’s angels?”
Marcus frowned in the direction of the marks. “Do you think the curse is their doing? A way of hindering me so they can catch Amelia?”
Einar stared at Marcus’s shoulders for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t know. Why would they want to hinder you now? Amelia has died. Veiron had wanted to stop that from happening and failed.”
Marcus stared down into the street below. He needed to find Veiron and ask him about Amelia, and also about his curse. Taylor thought that it was demonic but the further he ventured into this mission, the more doubts he had. Could it be the work of the Hell’s angels?
His gaze rose to the sky again.
As much as he desired to go to Heaven and to Amelia, he needed to uncover the truth about her destiny and his mission first, and something told him that Veiron could help with that. Heaven’s message had stated that h
e would be called to them and Amelia soon. He had to trust that meant that she was safe with them for now. Once they called him, he would see her again and he would save her from whatever fate had in store for her.
“It’s time.” Apollyon stepped out onto the small balcony, dressed in his black and gold armour with his wings tucked against his back. “We should go now.”
“There’s a problem,” Einar said and Apollyon’s dark blue gaze darted to him. “Marcus’s wings.”
Marcus’s silvery wings unfurled from his back, hitting Einar and almost knocking him over the railing. Marcus stared at them, unable to believe that they were there now when a moment ago they hadn’t responded to his call. What the hell was happening to him?
He needed to find Veiron and fast. Einar’s questions had planted more in his head and he wanted answers.
They played on his mind as he followed Einar and Apollyon into the apartment, calling his breastplate and back plate to him at the same time. The blue and silver armour materialised over his torso and he focused on his wings, furling them against his back. They felt stable now but for how long?
He couldn’t shake the feeling that the curse was reacting to him just as the medical staff had said, but it wasn’t triggered by his emotions. The trigger was the decisions he made, the things he wanted to do. It was rigged to respond to some thoughts but not others. There were countless times when he had wanted to use his wings for a purpose and they had been fine, and only a handful when they hadn’t come when he had called. Each of those times, his need for them had been related to Amelia. That only confused him further. He placed his left hand on the grip of the blade hanging from his waist and tightened his fingers around it. Resolve flowed through him. There had to be a way to remove the curse, something that they hadn’t tried, and he was determined to find it and free himself.
Taylor clicked her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Marcus.”
His eyes widened and he blankly looked at her.
“You’re my escort for the evening.” She smiled at him and finished tying her long black hair up into a neat ponytail. She was head to toe in black again and sporting some nasty looking knives in a holster that fitted snugly over her black t-shirt. He counted four on either side of her ribs, each with small rings on the end so she could quickly tug them free and throw them, and a larger knife was strapped to her leg. His gaze dropped to her combat boots and he wondered where else she was concealing blades. She put her leather jacket on, hiding the short blade that was against her back, and her smile widened, brightening her blue eyes.
He wasn’t sure who would be escorting whom. With an arsenal like that strapped to her body, she could probably take down most enemies without any problems or any need for assistance.
“I still don’t like the idea of you flying with another man,” Einar said and Taylor turned her smile on him. It warmed and widened.
“Marcus will be a gentleman, I’m sure, and it’s your fault for losing your wings.” Her smile turned mischievous.
“You are right, it is my fault… perhaps I shouldn’t have decided to sacrifice them so we could be together. I will just send a message to Heaven saying that I’ve changed my mind.”
Taylor’s smile dropped away and she stared at him. “You wouldn’t dare… you’re mine, Romeo, and you’d better remember that.”
“Look who’s talking. You speak to Marcus like you’re propositioning him and then—” Einar didn’t get a chance to finish. Taylor ran at him, threw her arms around his neck and almost knocked him off his feet.
Einar grinned and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him, and lowered his mouth to kiss her. She wriggled free.
“Dammit, Einar, you’re all wet!” Her scowl stopped him mid-attempt to grab her again and she caught his wrist instead and led him to their bags on the beige couches.
“It was raining,” Einar groused and then, in a swift move, broke free of her grasp, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her against him. She didn’t struggle this time as Einar bent her over, his hands grasping her waist, and kissed her. Taylor buried her fingers into his mousy brown hair, twisted them in his short ponytail at the nape of his neck, and tugged the leather thong out.
Einar looked unimpressed as he released her, setting her back on her feet, and fixed his hair back in place.
Marcus smiled when she tossed a t-shirt at Einar, hitting him in the face with it, and then started to unload even more short swords and knives, tucking them into her jacket. Einar must have used his powers to conceal all that weaponry from human eyes at the airport. It was possible for him to alter the appearance of the luggage’s contents.
He looked away from them and his gaze lighted on Apollyon and Serenity. The moment Apollyon bent down, wrapped his arms around the petite blonde and lifted her for a kiss, Marcus looked away from them too. Luck wasn’t with him, but Lukas was getting a serious good luck kiss from Annelie, her slender fingers wrapped in his messy sandy hair whilst his hand splayed through her red locks, holding her against his mouth.
Marcus turned around and stared at the balcony, unable to bear the sight of the three couples. It was torture. He wanted Amelia in his arms again, her sweet lips against his and her body nestled close. They had only been together a short time, but the moments they had shared with each other had been blissful and had changed his life. He couldn’t live without her anymore. The world was dull and grey when she wasn’t with him and he couldn’t think straight. He needed her and he was starting to waver again, the desire to find her battling his need to go to Hell with the others and discover more about what was happening.
Amelia was safe with Heaven. They had told him that and he forced himself to believe it. They had never lied to him before. They had only neglected to tell him things. He couldn’t hold that against them. When his mission had begun, he had been told to watch over Amelia and that he would be given more information in time. They had kept their word, telling him that there would be a point in time when he had to protect her until. Had that point in time been her death at Apollyon’s hands? If it was, then Marcus had fulfilled that part of his mission, but his duty wasn’t done yet. Heaven had made it sound as though there was more to come. What if Amelia’s death wasn’t the end but only the beginning of something? She had been reborn as a being similar to an angel. There had to be a reason for it.
If he went flying off to Heaven now, intent on killing everyone who stood in his way and saving Amelia from a fate he knew nothing about, he could end up destroying her real destiny. The slightest change of events could lead to something catastrophic. Heaven had a reason for what they had done and they had a reason for needing him to stay away until they called him. He would find out what they were and then he would make a decision—to follow their orders or follow his own desire.
It was hard to bring himself to trust them when he needed to see her again and see that she was safe.
The longer he waited for Apollyon to announce their departure, the stronger his desire to go to Heaven instead of Hell became. He needed to leave now and go down into the bowels of the underworld. Only that would stop him from surrendering to his desire to see Amelia. All would be well if he could rein in that feeling until they reached Hell. Taylor would find Veiron and Apollyon would scour the pool that recorded the events of the mortal realm, and they would use that knowledge to discover the truth about Amelia’s destiny. Armed with that knowledge, he would be able to save her without further endangering her life.
Until then, he had to hold himself together.
Hell was a dangerous place for an angel.
If he went in there with his feelings in disarray, his heart would be easily swayed.
The Devil had a strong voice.
And Marcus had never felt so weak.
CHAPTER 22
Marcus kept half of his focus fixed on his silvery-blue wings as the grey asphalt road below him began to crack and open, revealing infinite darkness. Was this really the way to Hell? Apollyon hovere
d just metres in front of him, his hand outstretched and his eyes closed. Hot air blasted out of the crevasse, tousling his dark feathers and long black hair. It ruffled Marcus and Lukas too, sending their hair swaying. Taylor moved closer to Marcus, curled close to his breastplate in his arms. Her array of blades made her difficult to carry without cutting himself but something told him that she wouldn’t surrender them. He could feel her heart racing. She was putting on a brave face and she wasn’t the only one. Marcus couldn’t recall a time he had felt this nervous.
Lukas held Einar, gripping him under his arms so Einar dangled below him. Taylor had laughed at the sight of her lover held so ridiculously at first but had fallen silent once Apollyon had started the ritual that opened the path to Hell.
None of them had said a word since the first crack had appeared. Now, Marcus could see a tiny orange forked line. Either it was going to open wider, or it was a long way down into the Earth. Marcus had never been to Hell but he knew that Lukas had, and when he had asked him about it, Lukas had told him to be on his guard against the voice of the Devil. Did it really present such a temptation?
Apollyon turned to face them. “Mind the walls on the way down. Sometimes they shift. The old git doesn’t like us going down there. I hear he has become worse since I left my post. Several angels have already been corrupted by his offers.”
Marcus presumed he meant the Devil. Apollyon and the Devil had a special relationship. Every so many centuries, Apollyon fought the Devil in order to keep him locked away in the bottomless pit. There had been instances when the Devil had won, killing Apollyon, and had roamed the mortal realm, causing pestilence and amusing himself with destroying human lives until Apollyon was reborn and defeated him.
It took a strong heart and even stronger belief to resist the temptation that the Devil offered to angels who entered his realm. Apollyon had withstood it for millennia. Marcus marvelled at that as the dark angel took Einar from Lukas and started his descent into Hell. Lukas had withstood it during his short visit there. If the rookie of the group could hold out against the Devil, then Marcus was sure that he could too. He could be strong for Amelia. For her sake, he would endure it all and resist the Devil’s offers, no matter what they were.
Her Guardian Angel Page 24