Covenant

by Sabrina Benulis

  Dedication

  FOR MY LOVED ONES, WHO HAVE TAUGHT ME

  HOPE AND FAITH ARE THE ONLY

  WINGS NEEDED TO FLY

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Genesis: The Story So Far

  Zero

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Omega

  Glossary of Terms, Places, People, and Things

  About the Author

  By Sabrina Benulis

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Acknowledgments

  I am always so grateful for the wonderful family and friends who encourage me in my dreams and inspire my best efforts. My first round of thanks of course goes to my husband, Mike, who patiently listens to my ideas, helps me tackle writer’s block, and despite his engineering background isn’t afraid to lend an opinion on nitpicky grammar issues. Thanks from the bottom of my heart to my parents, Gary and Sharon, for lifting my spirits during tough times and always being my first and best test readers. A thank-you to my family and extended family for always telling me to hold my head high in each and every accomplishment, and another loving thank-you to my close friends for sharing my excitement as I reach the milestone of book number two.

  A sincere thank-you to my agent, Ann Behar, for unswervingly believing in my talent, and to the team at Harper Voyager who made this book a reality, especially editor Diana Gill, assistant editor Kelly O’Connor, and copy editor Laurie McGee. My gratefulness also goes to Nekro for once again producing an outstanding first cover for this book.

  My heartfelt thanks goes to the readers and fans, whose enthusiasm for Angela’s story always lifts my imagination to new heights. The new glossary at the end of the book is for your benefit!

  How could I forget to thank my cockatiel, Caesar, for being my special writing buddy?

  And, finally, a thank-you to God for absolutely everything and so much more.

  Genesis The Story So Far

  In the beginning of all things, there was a song, and starlight, and a Garden within eternity’s shadows. There, God created three great angels, and they were destined to rule all of Heaven from three majestic thrones.

  Israfel, the Creator Supernal, was considered to be the most beautiful of these angels. A vision of bronze feathers and grace, he found favor in the eyes of God and Heaven and soon outstripped his siblings in both popularity and power. His brother, Raziel, the Preserver Supernal, became known for the virtues of wisdom and gentleness. And then there was Lucifel, the Destroyer Supernal embodying creation’s fathomless darkness and depths, who despite her taciturn personality still managed to snare the hearts of creatures.

  The storms and upsets of the universe could not touch these three angels. Sickness and death were beneath them.

  But they were not immune to the passions of the heart.

  As Israfel’s favor grew, so did Lucifel’s frightful envy and discontent.

  Seeing herself as an equal to her sibling and with a loyal band of angels to support her claim, Lucifel finally broke with the established order and challenged Israfel’s position as Heaven’s supreme ruler under God. When Raziel—who had always seemingly vacillated in his loyalty between his siblings—took Lucifel as his lover, a bloody revolution exploded. The children of their forbidden union disappeared and were presumably executed, but in retaliation Lucifel engulfed Heaven in a War that ended in Raziel’s suicide, Israfel’s abdication, and her own tragic destiny.

  Though defeated by both fate and circumstance, Lucifel chose to begin a new regime in lower, darker places. Yet she was swiftly imprisoned in her new kingdom of Hell.

  Those who had once worshipped her in her glory were now her fearful jailers. They called themselves demons.

  In the darkness below all things, caged and alone, Lucifel’s ideals twisted even as her shadow of influence grew. From Hell it then spread like a poison, touching even the mortal world.

  Though her true motives remain unknown, she is now suspected of wishing to open Raziel’s fabled Book, seeking to use its power to silence the universe and the light within it that mocks her. Lucifel moves quicker by the day to manipulate events in her favor. But Raziel’s death was not completely in vain. He has returned as the guardian spirit of a human girl to see that his sister, Lucifel, fails in her goal. This human girl is called the Archon.

  The Archon is the only soul believed to be capable of opening the Book for the power of good. But like all creatures She has a choice and will either stand against Lucifel and destroy her or kill her only to take her place on the Throne of Hell and begin a darker era of Ruin.

  In either instance, Her decision must be made quickly.

  With the ties that once held the universe together brutally severed, an order long teetering on the edge of collapse has started to slide toward complete annihilation. A silence more threatening than Lucifel’s looms over all creatures—one without hope of resurrection. The whereabouts of the Lock and Key of Raziel’s Book are unknown, and the task of opening it to save what remains of the world verges on the impossible.

  The Archon is a soul born in mortal misery, and she has only recently grasped the virtue of friendship. There are many who believe that her dark destiny is—like Lucifel’s—unavoidable.

  But if Ruin and Death born of three unhappy angels sparked the end, it is also true that covenants broken can be remade, and that the wheels of fate can be turned backward despite all odds. Hearts call to one another, undoing the knots that have strangled hope and imprisoned peace. For darkness to exist, there must be a brighter light. The world has always known pain, strife, and wars.

  Yet it is the bonds between souls that have moved the stars.

  Zero

  Many doors begged to be opened in the city of Luz. Kim was certain he’d at last found the only one that mattered.

  Like all ominous things, it had materialized in the darkest hour of his life. Now he stood in front of its immense black wood and gasped for breath, cold sweat trickling down the side of his nose. A thousand warnings sounded off in his brain, and his lungs ached as they sucked in the freezing air. His hands had gone numb. Ice shellacked the tips of Kim’s hair, and the strands swept punishingly against his neck. The wind strangled him with every breath, searching relentlessly for other lives to snuff out, sighing like a cold song through the alley.

  A hiss shivered through the bone-cold night, and the breeze died for a moment. The damp and stone-filled city had hushed, as if waiting. Flurries drifted serenely to the ground.

  Kim glanced over his shoulder, shuddering. Fear throbbed through him in waves.

  He would have to move fast. He didn’t have much time to make a decision before she caught up to him.

  The door beckoned, sus
picious and dark. Should he? Shouldn’t he?

  Kim stared at the door, gasping for breath. He peered at the odd carvings and symbols in the wood. Impulsively, he reached for the snake-shaped iron knob.

  Reality twisted and warped like a flash of lightning. Without warning the iron serpent came alive and lunged.

  Inch-long metal fangs sank into Kim’s palm. Needles of agony wrenched through his arm.

  Kim cursed under his breath, tears of pain bunching at the corners of his eyes. He snatched his hand out of the snake’s reach, wrapping fingers around his injured palm. Blood seeped hotly between his fingers. The iron snake recoiled back to its original position, glaring at him. Its reptilian eyes glowed with an unnerving yet familiar shade of orange. Try again, they seemed to say.

  Frantically, Kim searched every inch of the wood for a keyhole. But there was none, and he realized with a newer shot of panic that he had no key anyway.

  Another icy hiss echoed through him, drifting through the alley along with the snow. A soft rattle, like the sound of tiny bones rubbing together, cut through the silence.

  Kim peered around again, sweaty bangs screening his vision.

  A pair of phosphorescent yellow eyes gleamed back at him from the end of the cobbled road. Sickle-shaped black wings flickered once within the night. The glow of a gas lamp brushed the tips of his cousin’s nails, and then her devilish form melted back into the darkness.

  In a few more breaths, those nails would rip him apart. His hunter was badly hurt, but that wouldn’t buy Kim enough time to escape.

  He glanced around pathetically and sucked in more horrendously cold air. Silvery ice shellacked the surrounding walls of brick and stone, the hard ground. Snow tumbled in the renewed gusts of winter wind. He didn’t want to die in the cold depths of Luz alone. Too much life awaited him, and possibly love.

  He clung to that last hope with fanatical loyalty.

  Kim clutched the cross necklace at his chest, and his mind raced and filled with thoughts of Angela Mathers and how much she needed him without even realizing it. He pictured her brave face, deep red hair, and cool blue eyes. He felt her kiss on his mouth and ached for the part of his heart he’d unwillingly left with her in a moment of irrational anger. But instead of Angela’s voice, he remembered her angel Israfel’s prophetic words: Kim was about to get exactly what he deserved.

  A terrible, crushing sensation threatened to stop his heart. The hair stood on the nape of Kim’s neck. His veins throbbed with terror. Blood rushed and roared in his ears. He fought off the screams rising up into his throat. Unseen and silent, death’s stealthy approach pierced him like a knife to the back.

  Kim threw himself at the door, pounding on the wood with his fists.

  Seeing Angela’s face in his mind one last time, he knew he’d give anything to reach her again. The screams left his mouth at last, reverberating in the icy air. Someone, anyone—for the love of God, let him in. Footsteps were behind him and ragged breaths and pitiless teeth and the thought was unbearable. He banged harder and harder, ignoring the threat of another bite from the snake because his hands were dead with cold and pain.

  He would do anything, if someone would save him.

  The world paused. A voice like a snake’s touched the edge of his thoughts.

  Anything? It sounded amused.

  Yes. Yes. ANYTHING.

  A tremulous click broke the silence.

  Kim jumped backward and stared, his heart pounding. The immense black door had opened, and a sliver of nothingness peeped at him from the gap between door and wall. Like a man in a trance, he opened the door wider, revealing a worn stone stairway that led down into a dimly lit darkness. A stale but warm breeze wafted upward from the depths. There was no telling what waited for him down there. Within his soul, Kim heard a faint plea not to go, never to enter. For a single moment longer, he hesitated.

  Pain crashed into him like a thunderbolt.

  The door slammed shut. Kim whipped sideways into the bricks, scraping his cheek on bitter ice.

  His hunter rolled to the slippery ground next to him, her sparsely feathered wings beating the stone in a frenzy. Ice cracked and split beneath her weight. Cold air rushed over Kim in merciless waves.

  Scabs covered Troy’s black pinions, and her entire body had become even leaner with hunger. Growls of rage peppered her almost unintelligible words. Kim stole one more glimpse of his cousin’s lethal angelic beauty, the sight of her sharp teeth, the terror of her hypnotic eyes, and he wrenched himself from the slick wall and once again flung open the door.

  Troy grabbed his leg, cutting more blood out of him.

  Frustrated shrieks sliced into him like her nails. Her broken ankle had cost her time and speed, but it was her other injuries that had brought her close to starvation. Kim screamed a prayer.

  Shuddering, she let go.

  In a second Troy was on her hands and feet, preparing to pounce again. Kim swung himself through the doorway.

  Troy’s bony hand grasped the bloody tatters of his coat and pulled. Kim slammed to the ground. Troy’s wings buffeted him, punishing his legs and waist. She scrabbled for a foothold on the unfamiliar ice, and he fought against sliding into biting range. Troy’s hot breath reached his skin. The chain of his necklace threatened to choke him.

  Kim pulled with all his strength.

  The coat fabric ripped from between Troy’s fingers. The necklace chain snapped. With a cry of triumph Kim dashed for the stairway again and turned, slamming the door shut.

  Troy crashed against the opposite side.

  Kim staggered back, nearly pitching down the stairs. Grasping blindly, he clung to an iron bar on the door’s inside, trying to keep his balance. In a fury of Jinn nails and thundering wings, Troy scratched against the door and rasped his name, screeched out her fury. Her voice was like a song of terror.

  The door shivered beneath the onslaught. Kim was sure a mere two inches of wood separated them.

  It didn’t seem to matter. Something was protecting him and Troy knew it.

  Her hisses of defeat continued, burning Kim’s ears like a relentless fire. He let go of the iron bar and stood at the top of the stairway, keeping his hand on his other bleeding palm, whispering every exorcism prayer in his memory.

  Hours passed. Every so often, chalk-white fingers and sharp nails slipped under the door, searching for Kim’s skin. Above the howling wind, he heard Troy’s hiss or the rattle of the bones in her hair, and sometimes the screech of the crow that haunted her side. So he waited with her, certain that one of them would eventually give up but that, God willing, it wouldn’t be him.

  Finally, unbelievably, she left.

  Kim’s sanity returned by degrees. With it came suffocating hunger and thirst. He’d been running from Troy for so long, food and drink had become hasty and disgusting occasions. Now the overwhelming need for both began to overcome his terror at what might be waiting outside the door. He touched it, weighing his fortunes. No, he couldn’t bear it anymore—

  Kim set his jaw, pushing on the door from the inside.

  It wouldn’t budge. There was no interior knob either, only the iron bar that had left his arm muscles aching. He was trapped.

  A warm breeze rose out of the darkness and brushed against his skin. The ice coating his hair dripped onto the stone.

  Kim patted his chest, sensing emptiness. His cross necklace was gone, probably lying on the icy ground where Troy had torn it from his neck. There was no sense in grieving. That memento his foster father had given him was now long past its usefulness. The memories it symbolized would best stay where Kim had left them, half buried in the snow. Besides, he couldn’t return even if he wanted to.

  With the most furtive glances, Kim examined the staircase.

  He breathed hard, his chest aching. His throat was raw from screaming, and as he stood, every muscle shrieked back at him in protest. Carefully, he edged onto the first step of the stairs.

  Troy’s steady breathing sound
ed from the door’s other side.

  She’d never left at all.

  With his next step, she breathed louder, as if growing desperate.

  Kim knew better than to walk down a mysterious set of stairs, after entering a mysterious door, all because he’d made a desperate promise. Yet he had no other choice, and deep inside, he couldn’t help feeling that this was somehow the right one. A whisper at the edge of his memories—the same voice that had questioned him at the door—called from far below. Perhaps this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

  Here is your chance, the voice called to him again.

  Despite Kim’s better judgment he believed it. He needed to believe it. So he left death behind to meet salvation where it waited—darker and darker down.

  One

  A long time ago, I dreamed of these moments. I wished with all my soul they would never come to pass. Then I met Her. —SOPHIA

  Angela Mathers tapped her pencil against her desk and swept a long strand of blood-red hair from her eyes.

  A deathly but earnest quiet filled the classroom. Many of the Westwood Academy students hunched over their clipboards and papers, scribbling away answers for the winter exams. There was a scrabbling noise—a rat scurrying along the floorboards. The Vatican novice moderating the class glanced up from his own stack of papers, searching each student with a piercing glance and a sly twist to his mouth, hoping to find a cheater here or there. His gaze lingered on Angela a moment longer, and then with a disapproving shake of his head, he went back to his papers.

  The rat continued on his busy way to the crack beneath the classroom’s double doors and slipped out unnoticed.

  Angela sighed and set down her pencil, staring at the white flakes drifting outside the windows. The Latin classroom’s gabled panes were enormous, taking up a quarter of the building, and through them the island city of Luz gleamed with festive flickers of gold. For the first time in a century, the typically chilly but wet winters of Luz had been graced with a never-ending gala of snow.

  For days, it had been gusting throughout the city.