So, I’m screwed whichever side I choose?
Oh, Violet-heart, you’ve been screwed from the day you were born.
What you get to choose? Who does the screwing.
‘I’m standing and listening.’ I straightened my shaking shoulders. ‘Now don’t keep me hanging, or I’ll light up your wings like pretty fireworks.’
Battle barked with laughter. ‘The brass neck of you! A battle’s set for the morrow. The Fallen want you; I’d give you back, but the Matriarch would risk the world for you. You’ll be hidden behind the walls, whilst we, like the daft idiots we are, sacrifice our blood for you.’
I started.
Why did the vampires want me so desperately to attack for me, and the angels to risk their lives to keep me?
Royal blood wasn’t valuable enough to sacrifice others. Plus, my mum had threatened to kill me herself; she wasn’t the hovering maternal sort. More the let’s have an orgy together before I watch you bleed out type.
Why was it so important I didn’t join the vampires?
Anpiel patted my shoulder, as if my startling had been fear. ‘Don’t worry, princess, you’ll be safe here with the Imperfects. Harahel, by-the-way, will personally see to it. I promise on your behalf my sword and wings will be at your service.’
I gazed into her sparking eyes.
No way anyone was fighting my battles.
The Matriarch, Drake, and all the others in Angel World wanted to discover what type of ruler I was…?
Then they’d see it in my blood, mixed right along with theirs on the battlefield.
Tomorrow.
Flight hummed and shook on my back, as if trying to spin already into my hand.
I forced myself to sway on my own feet. ‘I’m the Monster Princess; I’ll kick arse right alongside you tomorrow.’
Silence.
Then slow clapping.
Battle pushed a single finger to my chest, and I toppled backwards, sprawling beetle-like again. ‘If my Glories die because of you, I’ll slash your head from your shoulders.’
I looked down but I nodded.
The bitch had a point.
It was only Day One of the dare and my attempt to become a princess in Angel World, and tomorrow we battled the vampires because of me.
Only Day One, and I’d rekindled the civil war.
Only Day One, and I’d already seeped us in blood.
7
Violet butterfly wings trembled in the piercing full moon’s light on London Fields. Ranks of the war-winged waited for the enemy in the cold night’s quiet, in a park that had once been my human hunting ground.
But now it was the battlefield, where I was the prize.
As I shivered in the breeze, which whipped across the bleak open ground and wound around the London Plane trees, I ached.
So, this was homesickness?
More like being shanked in the back — and since Rebel had fallen into my world, I’d been blessed with that first as well — because I couldn’t fib even to myself.
I wasn’t human anymore.
And the last time I’d been here in London, I’d been clutching onto my human life like it was my Top Score ever, never to be repeated, got back, or won again.
By saving the humans, I’d slaughtered my own humanity.
I fiddled with the buckled straps of the gold leather armour, which Gwyn had tenderly helped do up for me earlier.
Gwyn had fussed around in mother hen mode, before dragging me into a hug. ‘Mind and look after yourself,’ Gwyn had sniffled into my hair. ‘And no getting yourself killed. That’s an order, see.’
Pushy for a slave.
Another violent shiver shook me; Drake edged closer.
Rich frankincense blew warm kisses across my cheeks.
For a moment, it looked like Drake would slip his arm around me but then he crossed his arms instead.
I’d reckoned that leaving with Drake to another world, I’d discover what I was. That if I wasn’t human, then maybe I did belong with him.
Yet J had warned me, ever since I was three, that I wouldn’t be saved by angels.
Why hadn’t I listened?
Except, now it was the angelic army saving me from the vampires and not the drop-you-to-your-knees with awe type: the kids.
I stared out at the line of teenage soldiers.
Glories and Wings, they shuffled, fluttered their small wings, and booted their heels agitatedly, like cadets the world over, until Battle or her sister barked at them to straighten their shoulders.
These weren’t cadets on manoeuvres, however, they were angels about to get their arses kicked by a vampire army.
To protect me.
I twisted to Drake, my hands shaking but not because of the cold. ‘What the hell is up with sending out the munchkins? Call off this battle of newbies.’
‘Enough. You are not the only one being tested in this battle. And you have no choice.’ Drake hesitated, before adding, ‘Nor do I.’
I studied him. ‘I get you believe that because some bitch,’ I held back saying my mum, but we both heard it, ‘has broken you. But even if both choices are bastard bad ones, there’s always a choice. Like, what if you parked your arse down and refused to fight? Or had a parlay with the vampires, instead of letting these kids die? Or—’
‘Then not only would you dishonour yourself, you’d be killed for breaking orders. Are you considering such foolishness? Because if you are…’ He yanked me closer by my elbow. ‘I shall render you unconscious. Otherwise, you’d live long enough to see these trainees executed by the Matriarch, before you died.’
I gaped at him. ‘That’s twisted.’
‘No choice,’ he repeated. ‘Was I right?’
‘You’re a prick,’ I pouted.
‘But,’ he gazed out over the teenage ranks, and I didn’t miss the way he clenched his fists, ‘we have a choice over how we fight, do we not?’ His eyes gleamed. ‘It’s hard to suffer alone, but now you’re here… Would you join me, princess, in some babysitting duties?’
My eyes widened.
The Ice Commander thawed enough over trainees to bend the Matriarch’s rules, looking out for kids in battles?
Drake took my hesitation for rejection and paled. ‘I apologise for the suggestion. I request you don’t tell the Matriarch until after the battle. Then I’ll take whatever—’
‘No one’s ever trusted the Bitch of Utopia to babysit their darlings before.’ I nodded towards the trainees. ‘If they’re sacrificing themselves for me, then I’m William Wallacing them.’
‘What do you…?’
I marched in front of the nervous line; their heads bobbed up, until I was facing a sea of nervous, yet hopeful faces.
Like little Jades.
Hell, some of them weren’t even in their teens.
I shuddered with the need to shank the Matriarch and feel the blade’s tip sink through skin. And that urge hadn’t washed through me with such desperation for years.
The Matriarch was messing with me. She was so close, my skin tightened.
Where was she?
I’m in your head, baby bird.
What…? Who the hell…?
Your queen. I’m using your eyes to watch the battle. Make me proud.
The Matriarch was in my head?
Her intimate possession wasn’t like J, familiar and comfortable. Part of me.
It was a violation.
Get out. I don’t want you…inside me.
Too late. You’re mine.
I grimaced. It sounded too much like J.
Then I held myself motionless: where was J? Had the Matriarch discovered him? Hurt him? Wiped him from my brain?
Enough with the controlling mother act; I don’t need you.
Yet I need you.
How do you think I view my army? By truth, I normally use my Wing, but you’re the precious who demanded to fight.
You think I’d cower behind kids? Like you, safe in your mountain?
The Fallen are here.
Fly true, my daughter.
The night sky blotted, locust-style, as the Fallen descended on London Fields, putting out the moon.
I was pushed back by the whirlwind gust of beating wings.
Was Ash amongst their ranks? What would I do if we were forced to fight?
Our soldiers grasped at each other’s shoulders, or cringed, as the vampires landed in a thudding quake.
This was these kid’s first battle. Their test: survive or die.
No way I was letting them die.
‘Look at me,’ I hollered over the beat of wings, pound of feet, and whining fear of our soldiers. The trainees settled. ‘You’re smaller than they are, nippy. So, you get in and out, going for the hands and head. The quick kill, you get me?’ I licked my lips, pressing my nails into my palms. ‘Remember: I’m your Monster Princess. Every one of you who fights for me is fam. I’ve got your back.’
I caught sight of one girl Glory with short ash blonde hair that tumbled over her eyes. She was tinier than the rest, but had twice as much attitude, even though she was using her scowl to hide her trembling lip.
She could’ve been me at that age about to face down a shank on Utopia Estate. But she hadn’t even been given her own weapon.
When I crouched down in front of her, the girl Glory meeped, before hiding behind her hair.
Anpiel tensed, her eyes flaming in the dark. What did she reckon I was going to do? Incinerate the miniature Glory?
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Eah.’ The Glory scuffed her suede boot back-and-forth in the grass, flattening a trench. At least the kid had boots, unlike the blokes — including Drake — who stood bare foot in the damp. ‘I-I mean, my name is Eah, if it pleases you, Princess Violet, by the Matriarch.’
‘Screw that curtsey of a mouthful, girl, call me Feathers. We’re mates now, yeah?’
Sniggers.
Followed by Battle’s snapped, ‘Silence.’
Eah gawked at me like she’d discovered a tooth fairy who gave out booze and dirty limericks. ‘Mates, Feathers.’
‘And mates give each other gifts.’ I don’t know why I did it. Except, these kid soldiers were being thrown into the fire because of me. And I only valued one thing I could give her that would help. ‘I expect you to hand it back afterwards, so take care of my baby.’
I slipped Star out of the scabbard at my waist: the shank Rebel had given to me.
His dad’s.
Eah gasped, as her tiny hands reached around the hilt that was carved with a star.
Piercing violet shot out in points.
When I pushed myself up, the ranks were standing to attention, no longer hunched but staring at me like I was their hero.
As if they believed they’d live to be my fam.
Wasn’t that what I’d wanted? Even if it was a lie?
Anpiel gave me a short nod, swiping her hand across her cheeks, like I could’ve missed the wetness there.
‘Princess, I knew you were a ball buster but I didn’t take you as a bad bastard to bring young ones to war.’ Wings — Rebels’ brother and Commander of the Fallen armies — slunk forward from the bristling ranks of vampires.
Wings was tall, in faded black denim jacket and emerald shirt. His auburn buzz of bristles made me shudder with the sudden memory of Rebel.
And that yet again, I’d be fighting his family.
When I examined Wings’ ranks, my guts lurched because he hadn’t brought young ones. In fact, like Wings, most wore feather tattoos across their necks or faces. And I was beginning to reckon that meant the hardcore Fallen.
Against our newbie kids.
Yeah, Screwed City.
‘I was dragged from here to Angel World, a bastard war trophy from the battlefield, when your dad lost his head,’ I shrugged, stepping closer. ‘What makes you reckon they’re my army?’
Wings stiffened.
Maybe mentioning Drake’s murder of his dad wasn’t the best military strategy.
Wings raised his pierced eyebrow. ‘So was my brother. Where is the git angel?’
It was my turn to stiffen.
Wings had kicked his own brother into the mud, when Rebel had asked for his forgiveness (although I still didn’t know what sin Rebel had committed). Then he’d coolly allowed his dad to hand over Rebel to Drake for punishment, even though Drake had offered him back in hostage exchange.
And now he was asking after Rebel?
I was going to mess him up.
I unsheathed Flight in one arcing howl. Blinding white burst in glorious flaming wings, before fading, haloed.
‘In the dark, bro,’ I growled. ‘And that’s where I’m putting your traitor arse.’
‘Traitor?’ Wings raised his hand, steel claws shooting out of his nails, just as fangs descended from his canines. ‘That’s a kick in the bollocks.’ He tilted his head. ‘Why don’t you come with us? Stop the battle. Save the babbies. And…’ He fluttered his eyelashes, smiling around his fangs, even as his stare was killer-hard. ‘Enjoy the loving of a real fella for once.’
I glanced over my shoulder at Eah, who was grasping onto Star like a comfort blanket, amongst the army of teenagers. I took one wary step towards Wings.
Only to be wrenched back by Drake’s arm around my waist.
‘Imagine the babbies,’ Drake whispered fiercely into my ear, ‘without their heads.’
I shivered. ‘She wouldn’t—’
‘She’s watching. And she would kill us all if it amused her.’
Did you forget, my daughter? Now, time to play. Three, two, one…
As if they could hear the Matriarch’s signal as well, the angelic army rose into the night sky.
And dived.
Screams, hollers, bellows.
Blasts of violet, white, and gold.
Flames dazzling lit the night, in spitting arcs of sizzling death. Shanks, swords, and axes. Violet butterfly wings sparred with moth-grey. Fangs and claws bit and slashed.
Crimson painted bodies built in mounds: my mountain of feathers and bones, where I was both saviour and destroyer, the Beginning and the End.
Eah disappeared amidst the chaos, although I could see the star flashes of the shank I’d lent her, hacking through the vampires.
The bitch was doing me proud.
Still no sign of Ash…
I spun, slicing off another bastard’s head with Flight who’d heated to a lava intensity and whined furiously. I watched for Drake’s cue, twisting to the right towards the London Planes, before blocking an alpha prick of a vampire in black leathers and red-dyed hair.
Leathers had been poised to leap on a huddled gang of Wings who were already bleeding. I snatched him by the lapels, twirling him round, before sticking out my leg and tripping him over my ankle.
Leathers landed on the grass with a groan.
I glanced at Drake, who’d split himself with some freaky head magic into multiple copies, as if he’d been cloned, to draw attention onto himself — and away from the kids.
Each clone dripped bloody from a split lip, with purpling eyes swelled in bruised face. Still they didn’t stop sweeping their wings like steel fists.
Drake might be Rebel’s gaoler and the Matriarch’s Wing but he had skills.
When Anpiel knelt by a Glory whose throat had been torn out, violet glowed from her fingers, knitting the skin back together again.
Drake wasn’t the only one with skills.
Then I shrieked.
Leathers had sunk his steel nails into my calf and was using my leg to help himself stand.
Hell, no.
I tried to shake Leathers off, but he clung on with his claws.
Suddenly, a war cry, like something out of Peter Pan, and the previously cringing Wings leapt onto the vampire’s back, battering him with their little fists.
I grinned, ‘Don’t mess with the Monster Princess and her boys.’
Then Eah’s shriek echoed across the park, ‘Feathers, please, Feathers…’
I yanked back my leg, puncturing oozing holes; I staggered towards the yell.
An albino Fallen, who owned Ash and had dragged him back to the vampires in our last battle, had Eah shanked on his long claws in front of him, like a broken puppet.
Eah shuddered, crimson dribbling from the corner of her mouth, but she still clutched Star.
I stumbled towards her, lost to the anarchic clamour and sweet copper blood of the battle in my own tunnelled daze.
Flight trembled.
Albino’s white hair swung to his waist. He raised Eah higher; her legs twitched.
Eah’s gaze met mine: hope. Because Eah saw me and reckoned I’d save her.
Because I was the one who’d lied to her.
I hollered, leaping towards Albino. But then screamed, as claws sliced into my back, pinning me, just like Eah.
Leathers licked along my neck. ‘I wonder if you’re as sweet as the Seducer says?’
Ash? Did Ash talk about me? Was he forced to? Or had I been wrong to trust him?
Yet even through the pain, I thrilled to hear Ash was alive. Even if I’d die.
Albino’s fangs gleamed in the light of the wild moon. The hoops in his ears sparkled. And then he snapped Eah’s neck.
I wailed, booting back against Leathers.
When Leathers’ claws sank in further, I gasped. My back slicked with blood, bonding my dress to my armour in a warm gush.
These bastards could stick their ancient wars, schisms, and feuds. Kids were killed in the crossfire of their parents’ games.
Somehow, if I survived, I’d find a way to stop it.
Albino tossed Eah’s corpse off his claws like old food caught between his teeth, and Star tumbled as lifeless as the tiny hand it fell from.
I snarled, still skewered by Leathers; he pressed deeper, kissing up my throat, and stars burst across the blurry night.
I knew, if I faded into the inviting dark, I’d never wake up again. I’d just be another dead body, scarlet-clawed like Eah.
A reject.
Because there were only two choices: survive or die.
8
Once, in the apartment block hell of Utopia Estate, I’d been just one kid soldier, high on the power of the shank and gang at my back.
Vampire Princess (Rebel Angels Book 2) Page 6