But I need Flight to pass the Trials.
If I’m not a Warrior Princess, I can’t be the new top boy around here; I can’t stop Battle taking Rebel.
How can I let the Broken or the Imperfect live under the Legion and Discipliners?
BAM! There’s the realness right there: being a princess isn’t about the perks, it’s about the tough choices.
And your people.
They’re not mine.
Then whose are they? The Matriarch’s? The Supreme Commander’s? The Legion’s?
Hell, they are mine.
Drake dared you to find a new way of being monstrous. And you just found it, girl.
Battle snorted. ‘What’s with the frightened bunny act? I won’t coddle you. You’re the one who took my place by the Matriarch’s side.’
Battle had been the Matriarch’s second-in-command — the surrogate daughter and accomplice — before I’d been dragged back here.
No wonder she wanted to shoot an arrow into my arse.
Sparks tingled down my skin; my palms buzzed with static.
She huffed, stalking closer, before she aimed her bow at my head. ‘The brass neck on you to think you’re the only one the Matriarch let’s play with her whore. I’ve shared the Commander for centuries.’
I lifted my head, meeting her gaze with a look so hard, her step faltered. ‘It must’ve sucked like a bitch when I turned up and took away your toys, world…mum.’
She hissed but before she could loose her arrow, I raised my palms.
Fire crackled through the black, hitting her right hand, which was pulling back the bow.
She shrieked.
The violet clung to her skin, searing it. Her fingers blistered, but she struggled to aim the bow at me.
I grinned, throwing another fireball, this time at her left hand.
She howled. Her bow clattered to the floor, as she clasped her raw hands to her chest.
High on the rush and roar of the violet-scented righteousness, I prowled after her, pressing her back, past Dillon and Rebel, who gawked at us like we were gladiators, and thrust her against the trunk of the hazel.
Flames hissed on my outstretched palm. I circled her throat, and she flinched.
‘You’re off your head,’ Battle rasped. ‘Your daft dare ends in a couple of hours, and who do you think reports to the Matriarch if you should win?’
I drew back my hand. ‘Here’s the deal: I won’t barbecue you, if you tell my mum I’m her good little soldier.’
‘I’m not your puppet.’
I shot a ring of flames at her feet, and she jigged up and down, yelping.
I smirked. ‘Yet I can make you dance.’
‘I’ll report that you’re the Matriarch’s spitting image. And it’s no lie.’
I winced, the blaze dying to smouldering embers.
Suddenly, there was a shrill chattering and whirlwind flapping high above.
When I glanced at Battle, her mouth was a thin line. We wandered together out into the open air of the circle, staring up at the night sky and the dark mass flocking over the waning face of the moon.
‘Bats?’ I asked.
‘Merlins.’ Battle whistled to Dillon, and he crawled to her side.
‘I’m taking it that’s not a sign of singing unicorns and all things good?’
‘Nay, it’s the sign of killer Fallen and all things bad. It means the enemy has broken into Angel World. Yet our new home is shielded. The bastards shouldn’t know where we are.’
I hugged my arms over my chest. ‘Then how…?’
Battle shouldered me to the ground; only then did I realise that Rebel knelt next to me. ‘Because of you.’ She swept up her bow. ‘What more can you take from us? Destroyer.’
I turned away my face, staring up at the Merlins imprinted like the prehistoric silhouettes flamed on the corridors, against the moon.
The vampires had come for me.
Now the whole of Angel World was in danger.
15
Growing up on the Hackney Estate, where we cradled shanks like dolls and sprayed acid like bubbles, the only bastards who didn’t fear were either blitzed or the soon-to-be ganked.
Fear seeped into your bones.
And that night — whilst word sparked of the Fallen spies who’d slithered into our nested safe haven — fear ate out the angels’ hearts.
I pressed myself against the wall of the cavern, shivering in the freeze.
A panicked gang of Glories in gold armour charged past, lighting the dark in a dwindling flair.
Rebel whimpered, pressing harder against me.
I sighed.
Don’t you dare go all Death of the Valkyries on me, Violet-death, I know that look.
The Fangs are here for me. And I’m a huntress; I’ve scored the points to take on these Big Bads.
If you learn nothing else from the Ice Commander, learn trickery, stealth, and when to hide.
I dragged Rebel around the corner towards the cells, but he dug in his heels.
‘Bad angels are punished. Bad angels are punished. Bad angels…’ Rebel’s eyes were wide and unfocused; his chest heaved.
A bastard panic attack.
I shoved him against the wall, slamming my hand across his mouth. ‘You’re here with me; you’re safe. And you’re never going back into the dark. I promise.’
Slowly, I pulled my hand away from his lips.
‘Feathers?’ Rebel blinked.
‘It’s me, punk boy; it’ll always be me.’
He grinned, but it was edged with an insecurity that stung, as he peeked at the gloomy corridor. ‘You’re not taking me back there, are you?’
I kissed his neck above the collar; he tensed but then lounged against the wall, whilst I feathered kisses further up to his ear.
Yet did he even want me touching him? Or was he submitting out of fear?
Reluctantly, I drew back. ‘We were sneaking in to visit a mate. But I’ll never force you to go down there again.’ He sagged. ‘You know Merlin’s Grotto?’
He nodded.
‘There’s a decent bloke there, Harahel. And his Glory too. You bounce and hang with them, whilst I take care of business.’
‘Brilliant! Harahel’s a bleeding deadly fellah. Ages ago he fought in the most legendary battles.’
And how much was I not touching the whole Harahel’s lost his hand and been made an Imperfect thing?
Harahel had himself a fanboy.
‘You know my new mate then?’
‘He was my mate first,’ Rebel pouted. Jealousy? And this time not over me. ‘I didn’t grow up here, but Da was after bringing his young ones when he visited and planned battles. I hated the whole shebang. Except for Harahel.’
Rebel shot me a grin over his shoulder as he trotted away: the dark, vampires, and my likely death forgotten.
Yeah, I wasn’t sulking.
I dived into the caverns, gagging on the dankness, as I traced my hand across the walls; I edged forwards step-by-step.
Violet flared weakly from behind rock that speared up in birdcage prisons: other captives in their cells. Ash and Rebel had been held lower down, however, in the cells at the base of the prison. Where the Matriarch could watch them from Drake’s room through the special viewing panel.
I juddered, my breath wheezing. Then fingers throttled me, dragging me back against a slender chest.
I choked, as wings wrapped around me, winding me in the scent of…
Frankincense?
‘Let go of the goods, or I’ll join your mistress in another game of Punish the Genie.’ I tore at Drake’s fingers, slicing his skin with my nails.
‘Why are you lurking in the dark, princess?’ Drake spun me round, dropping his hands from my neck to my waist.
His cool eyes were disconcertingly close to mine.
‘Hiding from the Big Bads. Because word on the street? There are Fang spies after my arse.’
Drake’s thumbs dug into my hips, and I hissed. ‘Lie.
’ When he pushed me away, crossing his arms, he looked suddenly shaky. ‘You’re spying for the Matriarch, are you not?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘The bitch locks me away, threatens to gank me, or has a little kinky time. I hardly know my mum. But you? What are you doing lurking in the dark?’ I stalked towards him, and he backed away, cracking his spine against the stone bars with a wince. ‘Who are you spying for?’
‘My gaol,’ he waved airily. ‘I don’t need your permission.’
But he’d hesitated too long over the permission.
I’d been enough of a bad girl, when I’d been stuck in Jerusalem Children’s Home, not to know when someone was breaking a rule and trying to hide it.
‘So, you’re not creeping in here all stealthy because you reckon the attack’s distraction will be your cover?’
‘Calm yourself, did you not think the same? I didn’t even need to play in your mind to read that one. You’re here to visit your vampire whore.’
‘My turn. Truth: why are you sneaking when you’re the gaoler?’
He stiffened. ‘I’m here to visit…a prisoner. One the Matriarch doesn’t allow me to see, although I do my best to bring him comfort. If she’s watching through the viewing panel now…? Then we’ll both of us suffer. Yet I shall keep your secret, if you keep mine.’
‘You’re Mr Trustypants now?’
His gaze darkened. ‘Strange. Until I bargained for Zachriel’s release, you trusted me here above all others. At least, to initiate me in your warrior’s game of Truth or Dare. Or was that yet another one of your deceits?’
The combination of innocence and pride (woven with a desperate insecurity like Drake had never had a mate before), which I’d built up and then burned out of boredom like he was the toy my mum pretended, made my retort choke on my lips.
I looked away. ‘Everybody has secrets. But I wasn’t messing with you. I don’t play that game with anyone else.’
‘Not even the Addict?’
‘Just your suspicious arse.’
He nodded, but his smile was strained. ‘It’s midnight. The seventh day. Judgement.’
I screamed, as Flight blazed hot enough to burn through the leather harness, whilst I curled forwards against the pain.
Panting, I screwed closed my eyes; white lights danced behind my lids. The stink of scorched skin melded to silk. Blister of skin branded.
Then an unexpectedly cold sword tip pressed under my chin, and I straightened. When I opened my eyes, Flight hovered at my throat. I swung for the hilt, but she dodged out of reach, nicking my skin.
‘Enough,’ Drake raised his hand, and Flight hung back like a bad puppy. ‘Flight, I know the princess is insufferable.’ I huffed. ‘But you’d have executed her by now if she hadn’t passed your high standards. I’m right, am I not?’
Flight whined.
‘Good, then return to your new mistress.’
Flight twisted in what could’ve been a rude gesture, before clattering at my feet.
I didn’t reach for Flight. ‘Don’t you want your mum’s sword back?’
Drake winced.
I remembered his pleas not to have the one thing he had left of his mum’s torn away from him. And given to me.
‘Who else can save you in the Trials?’ He scuffed his bare foot against the floor. ‘And I find I don’t wish you to die. Yet.’
I grinned, before snatching up Flight and tucking her through the belt at my waist. The charred straps of my shoulder harness lay on the stone.
Another repair job for Gwyn.
I grimaced, stretching my back; the burnt dress flapped open.
Drake couldn’t meet my eye. ‘I just didn’t want you becoming the same monster as your mother. I apologise, however, for setting your mother’s monster on you. By passing my dare, I imagine you have failed hers?’
I startled.
The bastard knew how to bring a girl down.
I crossed my arms to hide their shaking. ‘Better not waste the last visit of a condemned woman then.’
He nodded, and we both sidled to our respective cells.
I watched Drake out of the corner of my eye.
He pressed on the stone bars and…to hell with it, magicked them to melt…stepping through into a cell. He crouched down to a tiny skeletal angel, whose black hair tangled to his waist. Then he gently tugged the angel into his lap and rocked him, stroking his wings. Except, both wings were bound with leather, and I flinched.
That had to bastard hurt.
How long had the beautiful prisoner been down here to have wasted away spectre-thin?
He curled into Drake’s chest like Drake meant comfort and safety. He hadn’t opened his eyes.
Its painful intimacy made me blush.
This was Drake’s secret?
‘A fight. Spies. Lovers. Just add popcorn and it’s movie night.’ Ash sprawled on his back. His lips spread in a slow grin. ‘Hey, sexy, you’re working the Princess Leia look.’
I crouched next to the bars.
Bruises, burns, stripes, and slashes: Ash was holding himself too still in an effort not to show me how badly he’d been pummelled.
You couldn’t beat the Brigadier from my Geek Fang.
‘That make my mum Jabba the Hut?’
Ash’s grin widened, although it must’ve hurt his shattered cheekbone. ‘Only if I’m Han, and you’re here to break me out?’
I slipped my fingers around a bar, wishing it was his hand. That I could touch him. ‘I’m sorry…’
He shrugged and then winced. ‘I’m a Fallen and a Seducer. I wish I could be something else, Violet, but I can’t wash myself clean. These angels have made my role clear.’
‘Screw what the angel dicks have said.’
When I banged on the stone, Ash raised his eyebrow. I longed to stroke through his sable mane and calm the tremors he was trying to hide in his grey wings.
But he only nodded. ‘Whatever you say, babe.’
‘You know I can get more creative with butter knife death scenarios if you keep it up with the babe.’
‘Reckoned I’d get a pass what with the torture…’
‘Guess again, bitch.’
‘So hot when you get all commanding.’ He edged himself up, clasping his guts as he struggled closer to me. ‘And are you safe with these angel dicks?’
I shook my head.
He ghosted his swollen fingers over mine. ‘Then the question isn’t how we break me out, it’s how we break you out.’
I stared at him.
Both angel and vampire had urged me to escape.
Was the problem that the danger frightened me, or that I didn’t want to escape?
‘You know just how to do that, yeah?’
‘Rome wasn’t won in a day. And it didn’t fall in one either. Note the cloaked comparison.’
I dragged his fingers towards mine, pulling him into the bars. His aromatic scent, like a clove studded orange, entwined around me. I breathed Ash in. Desperate to taste, I licked out my tongue, dragging it up his neck.
‘Rein in the rebel spirit. The Matriarch’ll pluck you, and I’ll have to watch. I’m the prized princess in the world I rule, and you’re the Fang trapped amongst your enemies. You’re the one we have to save.’ I scowled at the black slot of the viewing panel. ‘Plus, you have an audience, you get me?’
‘Figured. My performances were always popular.’ Ash shrugged, before asking quietly, ‘And your retro angel? The idiot was always crazy, but is he…himself again?’
I drew back, stumbling into the shadows to tip a jug of water into a wooden goblet, which was laid at the back of the cavern.
Angels didn’t need to eat human food (and I reckoned vampire captives wouldn’t be offered blood on tap), but they both suffered if they didn’t drink.
Not that the stinking green liquid in the goblet counted as water.
I pulled a face as I knelt in front of Ash, tipping the brackish water to his lips; he gagged but swallowed.
Lik
e that would go down rainbows and fairies: I Marked Rebel, and now he’s my terrified bed slave…
Instead, I sank into the bond, reaching out to Rebel.
Serenity, of a sort I hadn’t experienced (and no way in hell Rebel had since we’d been bonded), warmed through me.
I grinned: that’d be Harahel and his Glory, Anpiel.
How many other Wings had partners who hadn’t forced them into unwilling submission? Rebel and Ash had knelt for me willingly in Hackney — their princess. Yet they’d been equals in the fight.
Why had I let the Matriarch poison that?
‘Drowning…’ Ash spluttered.
‘Hell, sorry.’ I dragged away the goblet.
Ash laughed, wiping at his dribbling chin through his coughs. ‘Now I’ve had the waterboarding too, I can rate the full torture treatment five out of five.’
‘How can you joke?’
He rested his forehead against the bars. ‘This is war,’ he said, suddenly serious; his charcoal eyes flashed silver. ‘It sucks.’
‘Fangs have broken in, when they shouldn’t even be able to find us. Everyone’s acting like it’s the Apocalypse. The Matriarch exchanged captured vampires from the battle for you. It’s not striking up a weird-arsed tune?’
‘No tea, bed, or computer. Everything’s weird in here.’ Then he whispered, ‘And it wasn’t some captured vampires exchanged for me, it was all of them.’
‘Aren’t you popular.’
‘Aren’t you?’ He wound a strand of my hair around his thumb, as if I’d have to stay with him now. ‘I was bought for you. You’re a beacon, your possessive little angel said it once, burning brighter every day. Certain Fallens’ superpower is tracking. The Mage shields Angel World, but he often does a Gandalf and wanders off to do his own thing. They’ll call him back, but if he’s been away… These Fallen spies are here to save you. After all, Violet, you’re our princess too.’
Vampire Princess. How do you like wearing two crowns?
They called me monster, J.
The Pure fanatics branded you monster, but what do the Glories call you? And haven’t the humans always labelled you freak?
Cheers, not feeling better.
I’m not part of the Feathery cheerleading squad, I’m reading you until the Seducer’s truth brands into your stubborn brain.
Vampire Princess (Rebel Angels Book 2) Page 13