Angel Lover

by Tricia Skinner

  “Mastema cannot be stopped alone,” Tanis said. “Jarrid, shield us for as long as you can, but keep out of his reach.”

  The half angel nodded and reloaded his guns.

  Nesty, who appeared as battered as his brothers, joined the group.

  “Cain, don’t try to control his mind. There’s too much wickedness inside, and it will drag you under.”

  Mariel heard the blond half angel curse, but he checked his guns and flattened his lips.

  “Nesty, when you get a clear shot, blast him with resonance, but change the frequency in intervals. Don’t give him a chance to adjust.”

  She raised her brow and peeked at the auburn-haired Nephilim who was staring at her with a curious expression. Anticipation fluttered inside her to see him in action, but one brother was absent. The most important one to her.

  Mariel scanned the room. “Where is Kas? Has anyone seen him?”

  “Busy,” Nesty said, glancing at the second floor.

  She followed the line of sight and found Kas—alone—squared off against Rahab. Fear assaulted her. Mariel stepped forward, but a firm squeeze on her arm stopped her.

  A scowl marred Nesty’s features. “Solo battle. Stick with us. He needs you safe.”

  Though she understood, she didn’t like the answer. Kas might have developed his latent teleportation ability, but he was only half angel. If he were in trouble…

  No. She wouldn’t give those thoughts credence. He was tough, and she believed in him. If you die, Kas, I will kill you.

  “Let’s go,” Tanis said, the authority of his leadership firm in his tone.

  Mariel latched onto his arm, halting him. “Do not think I am staying behind.”

  The Bound Ones turned to consider her. She dared them with a glare. “You’re our secret weapon,” Tanis said, a slight grin on his lips. “Disrupt anything that stands in our way. Give Mastema something to fear.”

  She nearly burst from the confidence he placed in her. These men, this team of unlikely heroes, were braver than most of Heaven’s finest soldiers. She raised her chin, straightened her posture, and held his gaze in hers.

  She would not fail them, or Kas.

  Tanis’s grin transformed into a brilliant smile, then he switched his attention to the demon. “Now.”

  The group pushed through angels and fanned out once they closed on their target.

  Jarrid’s power ignited and formed a sphere around Tanis and Cain. Mariel stayed back and shifted position until she had a clear line to Mastema.

  The last of his victims crumpled to the floor, lifeless husks with shriveled wings that had blackened and smoldered as if burned. She glanced at Tanis. Now she understood what had happened to his wings.

  Mastema turned toward the approaching leader of the Bound and Cain. His eyes, now spiked through with weblike black lines, grew wide with recognition. “Tanis, it has been too long.”

  The double-layered sound of his voice scraped across her skin and left a trail of bumps. He was a creature even an angel feared.

  “Your time here is over,” Tanis said, his sword low at his side. “Look around. Few of your people remain alive.” He raised his voice. “The rest would be wise to surrender to Heaven’s mercy. You, however, deserve none.”

  Tanis hadn’t lied. Most of the fighting had stopped, and everyone waited to see this grudge match commence. Not one of the few remaining Renegades moved to assist their leader.

  The angel turned demon released a throaty laugh—a sound that reminded her of an avalanche crushing trees in its wake.

  “Mercy is for the weak.” Mastema sneered at the assembly, hatred flooding his eyes. “And the weak are killed and devoured.”

  Tanis struck. The sword clanged against the Renegade’s, shooting sparks into the air. The two angels exchanged a flurry of hits and deflections, forcing the crowd back. Mariel was tossed to the side, but she kicked out and pushed until she regained her spot.

  A black wisp snaked from the demon, and Tanis jumped out of reach. Cain moved then, shooting double barrels at the creature. The bullets hit their mark, but Mastema paid no notice.

  “Shit,” the half angel said, tossing his empty guns. He drew two daggers.

  “Come, child of Tanis,” Mastema said. “Come and know pain.”

  A tendril struck Cain’s chest. Mariel threw her Grace over him, but he still screamed. She pushed more of her power out, praying to the Creator. The tendril shrank, disappeared, and then Cain dropped like a stone.

  A new sound cut through the room, sharp as a blade. She covered her ears and groaned.

  Nesty’s lips were parted, his eyes aglow, as his devastating power slammed into the demon.

  Tanis spared only a brief look at Cain lying on the floor, but she’d seen the horror in his eyes. He attacked again, and his rage came out as a guttural cry. Nesty stopped before his father stepped into his line of sight. The demon backed away from the furious angel.

  Mariel limped to Cain and knelt. She nearly teared up when she found a low, but steady, pulse. She peered over to Jarrid. The Nephilim’s skin had paled, but he kept his shield on his father.

  She looked up at the balcony, saw Kas holding his own, and then she trembled from the power of her anger and rose to her feet. She had a new team to protect. Kas’s team. Her team.

  Only death would stop her from keeping them safe.

  “Let no harm come to Cain, or I will rip you apart,” Mariel told two angels and a Renegade standing next to her. The trio looked at the unconscious Nephilim and then back at her. One gave a solemn nod and knelt in her place.

  Satisfied Cain had protection, she moved closer to the fight. A wide circle had left Tanis and Mastema relatively free rein of the area. They crashed together, slashing and growling like lions. Each fighter had inflicted wounds on the other. Their blood left streaks along the tiles.

  “Mariel,” Jarrid called out. The half angel gripped his midsection and pitched forward. His back bowed and sweat drenched his face and arms. His energy shield flickered. Heaven’s punishment betrayed one of its servants.

  For the second time in a span of minutes, her body iced over. The Act of Contrition.

  Mariel hobbled and surrounded Jarrid in her power. Her body swayed. She grabbed someone’s wing to keep from falling. Her vision wavered until she sank to her knees.

  “Not. Now.” A wet trail of warmth soaked her side. She pressed her palm to the wound and swallowed a fresh wave of nausea.

  A thick arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her to her feet. She leaned heavily on the angel warrior holding her upright as she fed her Grace into the stricken Nephilim.

  The sound of a sword skipping across the floor drew gasps from the onlookers.

  Tanis stood, unprotected by Jarrid’s shielding in front of Mastema. He pointed his sword at the demon, who grinned as if the gesture amused him.

  “You have learned new skills since last we met,” the Renegade said. “Or perhaps I have grown soft. No matter. I have what I sought.”

  Mariel strained her rapidly deteriorating sight. Nesty parted his lips and hurried over to his father. He released a sound that was different from the first. Low, almost inaudible, but throughout the crowd, battle-honed warriors groaned; many whimpered.

  She ignored Nesty’s talent, and she slipped her power over Mastema. If she could weaken him, they stood a chance of winning.

  The moment her angelic soul touched the demon, everything changed.

  Black, black, black.

  His body began to mist.

  Void.

  Tanis cried out and swung his sword.

  Unholy darkness.

  Nesty sprang forward.

  And Mastema vanished—with the Nephilim.

  Mariel’s body seized, rattling her teeth, and her eyes rolled back. She was falling. Falling into nothing. Becoming nothing. She screamed at the vision seared in her mind of Mastema’s true self.

  “He is a death demon!”

  …


  Rahab sneered and drew his sword. Adrenaline fed Kas’s hatred; he would avenge his mother once and for all time.

  “You chose a broken angel over everything I would give you,” Rahab said, circling him. “Freedom. A world at your feet. You would have lived as a god.”

  He cut through what was left of the jacket on Kas’s back. The skin underneath burned from the blade’s fire, but Kas twisted, sliced out, and hit the angel’s side.

  The Renegade grunted and pressed on. The two side-stepped and parried, struck and deflected. The fight dragged them along the upstairs landing, across the blood-soaked carpet, and near the remains of destroyed sculptures.

  Rahab’s booted foot slammed into the wound on his thigh.

  Kas used the pain to tether him. If his sire won, everything Kas had risked wouldn’t matter.

  Mariel.

  “No man makes a fool of me,” Rahab said with a haggard scowl, “much less an abomination like you.”

  Kas flashed behind the angel and cut into one of his wings. The Renegade screamed, and Kas dodged to his left too late. The sharp blade sank into his waist.

  Pinions of light exploded behind his eyes. He sputtered and a blood mist coated his sire’s sneering face.

  Rahab leaned forward, smiling like the fiend he was. “Your life belongs to me.”

  Kas thrust his arms forward, burying his daggers into his sire’s chest. “Rot.” He yanked them out and stabbed both up under Rahab’s chin. “In Hell.”

  The Renegade’s startled gaze stared at him, and he glared back. Kas pulled the daggers out, crossed them at the wrist, and sliced Rahab’s throat. The sword clanged to the ground as his sire clutched his severed neck, disbelief clear in his frozen expression. He hit the railing and tumbled over.

  Bone crunched on impact with the floor. Kas stumbled to the banister. Angels on both sides stared down at Rahab’s distorted body.

  He made his way to the stairs. Despite pain striking every inch of his body, he kept his back straight and head high as he descended. He had to get to Mariel and his family.

  The angels cleared a path. Rahab was dead, but he was still in the enemy’s base.

  And Mastema remained.

  The crowd parted. He pushed away flashes of fear for his family and Mariel. Once past the sullen-faced onlookers, he drew up short, unable to process the scene before him.

  Tanis pinched Mariel’s nose and blew air into her mouth. Cain’s hands pumped her chest.

  Everything in him…stopped. His heart, his breath, his blood. Kas sank to his knees and held her cold hand. Jarrid peered over with a look that tore a hole in his soul. He squeezed her fingers and willed his warmth into her still form. “Don’t you fucking do this. Don’t you dare.”

  The CPR continued but judging by the sweat on his father’s slicked hairline, they’d been at this for a while. He gazed at her ashen skin and the blue tinge around the lips he’d kissed. He’d left her to fight without him. She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been there for her.

  Kas’s Grace rippled and his grief roared out. Windows in the mansion exploded. He jostled Cain out of the way, scooped Mariel into his arms, and blinked them away from the startled faces of his family.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Outside the bright emerald spires of Heaven’s Chamber of Healing, the first angel Kas encountered took one glance at him and his precious cargo and shuffled out of the way. He stormed past the guard and into the building. Two angel doctors froze, their eyes goggling at his appearance.

  “Save her, or join her,” he snarled.

  After shared looks, one of the physicians pointed to a platform. Kas gently placed Mariel on the cool surface. She hadn’t regained consciousness. She hadn’t breathed.

  I will not let you go.

  “What has transpired?” one doctor asked, checking her injuries.

  The words rasped out of his throat. “She…she fought Mastema.”

  “What?” The angel shot him a startled look and then studied her. “The Renegade leader?”

  “Stop asking questions and heal her!”

  The other doctor, an angel with bright red hair, joined them. His wide-eyed gaze traveled over Kas. “You are also wounded.”

  “Focus on her. Only her.”

  Red clucked his teeth and changed sides with his golden-haired partner. He placed several wafer-thin pieces of fabric over Mariel’s side. Kas jerked at the sight of white bone poking through honeyed skin. Broken ribs. Knife wounds. Inflamed skin all over her battered face. Her body was a monument to suffering.

  My fault, all of it.

  The doctors buzzed around, avoiding contact with him, and added tubes and a freaky wired bowl over her mouth and nose. Next, they wrapped more silver fabric over her thigh gash. Her hands were treated to the same care. When they cut off what was left of her T-shirt, he crossed his arms to resist the urge to clock the doctors.

  “Roll her over,” Red said.

  “God of All,” Goldie whispered.

  The flesh around Mariel’s old scars oozed. Kas fisted his hands. He’d kissed each spot only nights ago. An image of her stretching her body against his, cuddling into his warmth, filled his mind, taunting his sorrow.

  “May the Creator smite Mastema’s foul soul to the craters of Hell,” Red said in a dark tone.

  “No.” Kas stared into the angel’s silver eyes. “That fucker is mine.”

  The doctor nodded. “I can think of no greater punishment for the rebel than you, Nephilim.”

  Goldie brought out another strange object. The white carvings reminded Kas of ivory, smooth like homemade soap but the length of his index finger without any striations.

  “It seems he hacked at her with…I am not certain,” Goldie said, leaning close to her back. “I would estimate the damage is old, but…” His gaze skimmed over her body. “No, Mastema’s abilities are unknown to me. What did he use to sever her wings?”

  Kas’s pulse stopped. They didn’t know how she’d received the scars? His skin tingled as the angel waited for an answer. “Used a sword.”

  “Savage Hellspawn.”

  A lump formed in his throat. “Can you fix it?”

  The doctor leveled him with an are-you-stupid glare. “This is the Chamber of Healing, Nephilim. Here, we work with the Grace of the Creator. All is mendable.”

  The Grace of the Creator. His mouth plopped open. “Holy shit.”

  Goldie and Red gave him disapproving headshakes. Kas ran his fingers through Mariel’s matted hair. He missed the healthy glow of her skin, the challenging sparkle in her eyes, and the warmth of her smile. His trembling fingers stroked her cheek.

  “Heal her,” he whispered. “She’s important to me.”

  The fight with Rahab and his own wounds finally overcame the last dose of adrenaline keeping him alert. His legs buckled, and he gripped the edge of the platform.

  Red rushed to his side and clasped his arm. “Allow me to see to your injuries.”

  “No.” Kas brushed the doctor’s hand off.

  Mariel was more than important to him. When she awoke, he’d tell her everything. He’d admit what he’d been too stubborn to face.

  Kas loved her and wanted her and needed her. She was his match in every way. Fierce. Unbreakable. Passionate. He’d built a fortress around his heart, filled the moat with mines, and set archers in the tower. No one could scale its heights.

  No one, except her.

  “I am sorry, Nephilim, but you must wait outside,” Red said quietly. “Unless you give me permission to treat your injuries as well.”

  “No.” He glared at the angel, who didn’t flinch.

  “What must be done is sacred.” Red tossed his hands up. “Not even the Directorate is allowed to view the miracle of the Creator’s Grace.”

  Mention of the angel board snapped Kas into focus. They didn’t know he’d teleported straight to Heaven. They had no idea he could. Yet. He glanced at the door he’d barged through. The guard might report his sudden appea
rance.

  “If even her eyelash flutters, you summon me. The very next second. Understood?” He tugged out a steel throwing star. “Use this to trigger the transport.”

  The doctors could call anyone, in person, if they had something of the recipient. The physicians hurried back to their preparations.

  Kas stroked his hand over her hair again and then stalked toward the chamber door. He made it halfway before the marble floor rushed up and kissed his face. He groaned and braced his palms. Then everything blacked out.

  …

  Two things hit Kas when he opened his eyes. First, the room smelled of oranges and lemon. Second, the soft glow of light gave him a headache. He shut his eyes, counted to five, and then tried again. No difference.

  “Damn.” He hissed, touching a lump on his forehead.

  “We left that as a reminder to always listen to medical advice.”

  He craned until he saw Red glowering at him.

  Right. Chamber of Healing. Walking. Falling. Lump on head.

  “Touché.” Kas dropped his hand to the bed. “Why am I here?”

  The doctor strolled over and held a cylinder thing over his head. Little beeps like chirping crickets grew louder. “As expected, your head remains as impenetrable as your good sense.”

  “Give your inner prima donna a rest and tell me.”

  “You attempted to leave with a sword wound. The blood loss compromised your motor skills, and you collapsed.”

  “I passed out.” Kas glowered at the doctor. “Short and sweet, Doc.”

  “Yes.”

  A glimpse of the room confirmed he and Red were alone.

  “Where’s M—”

  “Mariel? She is within the Sanctum, receiving healing.” The doctor raised the thin but oddly warm fabric covering him. He poked Kas’s waist. “But you have mended well.”

  She was alive! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Kas flung the fabric away and slipped off the bed. He touched a hand to the spot where Rahab’s sword had pierced him. No scar.

  “How long before she’s well?” He adjusted his clothing to avoid Red’s curious gaze.