Dominion of the Star (Descendants of the Fallen Book 1)

by Angelica Clyman

  She wanted to heal him, but she had to admit that wasn’t all she wanted. She was beyond the confusion of her journey. Now she understood the difference between the ecstatic fire necessary to act as an Angel, and the human passion that she desired to express only to him. The space between these emotions was narrow, with blurred borders, but she felt as though she finally had the control of choice. She could heal him now, without a taste of his lips or the satisfaction of his fevered moan, but she needed this as much as he did. How many times since they first saw each other did they battle for dominance, for safety, for release? How many times were their minds clouded, unsure of their goals and wishes, unable to tell the difference between captivity and freedom?

  “You saved me a long time ago,” she murmured into his ear. “You brought me to life. It’s my turn. What you need…is to know that your life means everything to me.”

  His eyes were wide, but her kiss silenced any questions or rough words. Kayla brought her palms over his eyelids, erasing his injuries without protest, and then her right hand slid down to the tube that sprouted near his heart. She pressed her body against his and he responded, squeezing her harder, leaving no space between them. A shard of white bone cut the sutures and her fingers gently removed the tube, her sigh of pleasure easing his pain before her light closed the wound.

  There was still so much suffering in him. He was thinking of that night beneath the banyan, the last time their skin touched with no barriers, and how he wanted that memory to be beautiful and unmarked by darkness. A wave of guilt loosened his grip.

  Kayla pulled back from him and held his gaze. She untied her blouse, carelessly throwing it to the side, and presented her body to him. “That can’t be changed. Even this won’t be without shadow. But it’s ours. I’m yours, Jeremy.”

  He turned his head. “I fucked up, Kayla. So many times—”

  She silenced him with her fingers on his lips, her other palm tilting his face back to hers. There were no other words she could use to replace his regret with the solace she found here with him now. She let her hands caress his neck, move unwaveringly over the tattoo below his collarbone, and tenderly graze his ribs, stomach, and hips. Kayla touched her cheek to his throat, slowly turning her head to breathe cool air on his skin before he felt the wetness of her kiss. Her hands lingered on the waist of his pants, and then moved lower, disappearing beneath her skirt. She gasped, burying her face into his hair, her wings expanding with the convulsive jolt that moved through her body.

  His limbs went slack for a moment before he gripped her hard, forcing her closer. His depleted strength surged through him as he tightened his hold, his crushing embrace stealing her breath but not stilling the movement of her hips. The fetters reached for her, breaking through her glowing second skin and tearing her flesh. She cried out, her fire spreading with tiny explosions that enveloped them both.

  Kayla weakened, her head falling against his. The bones were winding around them, tethering her to him, and she could feel him surrendering. Soon the battle would be over and they would be together.

  “No! Not like this,” she whispered. “Peace isn’t for us. If you want it to be different this time…then fight!”

  Jeremy let out a pained breath, a blue light glowing at his back. Kayla’s fire reached for his, and when they joined, the divine heat was transparent, distorting reality like floating whirlpools. He kissed her, breathless and trembling, concentrating on her warmth, her rhythm, and not on the demon she would take from him. She could feel his terror, the uncertainty of being separated from something he despised but forgot how to live without.

  Thick tongues of flame surrounded his fetters, and although chunks of bone began to lift and dissolve, the light was becoming increasingly streaked with ash and blood. She felt as though she would be torn asunder, but she held tightly to him, quivering atop his body, her position no longer guaranteeing her the dominant role. Kayla looked at his shoulders, half freed of the fetters, but the exposed flesh was mutilated. “Jeremy…”

  His eyes were closed, his face distant, his hands viciously clutching her backside and thigh. More black knots were lifting, each sending a shudder through him, and the light grew thicker with blood.

  “No, stop! It’s killing you—”

  “Ssh. It’s okay, Kayla.” His expression didn’t change.

  Her body stiffened. “You can defeat it, but not this way!”

  Jeremy growled, pushing her to the ground, never breaking his hold on her.

  “Look at me, Jeremy! Be here with me.”

  He opened his eyes, fear narrowing his gaze. “That’s what I want. But there’s always something in the way.”

  “Then let’s burn it.” Kayla’s stare was intent, a smile spreading slowly over her face.

  He squeezed both of her palms to his, pressing the backs of her hands into the ground. Jeremy kissed her softly, watching in awe as her features tightened and relaxed again with pleasure. He dropped his face into her neck. “Let’s burn it.”

  Kayla felt his weight bear down on her, his fire, his blood. Her muscles were taut, just as his were, a choked sigh shared on their lips. Their light was purified again, and in a brilliant flash his armor was shattered and thousands of black scabs fell to the earth.

  47

  The chill of the underground chamber made Kayla’s toes curl and her limbs clutch Jeremy’s body more urgently for warmth. She woke slowly, her fingers stroking his bare arms, her head resting above his heart. When her eyes opened, her past deeds and all of the future’s phantoms scratched their old marks into sleep’s clean slate. She shifted in his embrace and saw that his features were untroubled. She wondered if he had ever rested at all beneath his fetters. Kayla closed her eyes, breathing in one last moment of stillness here with him. This was what she had longed for. With this impossible intimacy finally reached, she could elaborate on her fantasy, and for just an instant, they were in a place of their own, in a world where the sun could never fall.

  A voice from somewhere above struck her with the force of reality. “Any of that fire left for today’s festivities?”

  Before she could move, she felt Jeremy grab her and then she was flung aside. Kayla slid along the floor, colliding with the leg of a table.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Jeremy snarled at the man that stood above his crouched form, but she knew he was telling her to run.

  “That’s right, Steelryn, go.” The stranger watched as she clutched her blouse to her breasts.

  Kayla met his green, vulpine eyes. “You must be First Arch Tregenne. I apologize for the intrusion of your…study.” She stood, crooked at first, tying her top around her, but she slowly straightened and walked towards them, holding her hand out for Jeremy. “Sebastian allowed me free reign of the monaste—”

  “Lord Za’in didn’t give you this freedom so that you would lie down with his dogs. Now leave. The cur stays.”

  She stood between them, her Intercessors engaging. A sharp pain moved up her arms and Kayla fell down onto one knee.

  “Out of juice? I’m not surprised. It’s a rare Nephil that possesses the power and understanding necessary to break Ruiners, but it’s never without a price.” Tregenne lifted her chin with his finger. “I’d still gut you for spare parts. But by Za’in’s orders, you have a job to do. Go do it.”

  Jeremy’s whisper stilled her impulsive will to strike Tregenne. “His Mods are powerful. If you try to hurt him, you’ll be the one that feels it.”

  Kayla growled quietly, pushing the Arch’s hand away as she stood and began to walk towards the door. The heat in her palms was finally rising and she spun around to face him. She knew that she couldn’t be burned by her own fire, whether it was here in her hands or from a redirected blow. A channel of flame shot forward, but Tregenne was already going for Jeremy. Gabriel’s boot collided with his target’s bare chest before pouncing on him. Tregenne smashed Jeremy’s head into the stone floor, and then slid beside him, pulling him up by his neck, pinned
between Gabriel’s forearm and shoulder.

  Kayla watched in horror as Jeremy struggled weakly against him, dazed. There had to be a way to deal Tregenne some damage. She felt for the Angel in him. Winding over his body were familiar, delicate symbols, laced with the blood and ash of her kind. She followed a trail that curved up from his ribs, over his chest and along his arm. Each set of characters translated into a lyrical phrase. Trussed you together…with two-edged swords… The light in her hands squeezed up through her finger and she traced the script in the air. “Commah…napta…”

  Tregenne’s sigils glowed and he expelled a roar of pain, releasing his grip on Jeremy. The Arch fell onto his hands and knees, but continued to stumble in her direction, knocking objects off tables as he careened around them. Kayla collapsed, clutching her arm. She could see the end of the trail of tattoos. The strength of men…a bitter sting. Her finger completed spelling the ancient words against the floor. “Vgear…grosb!” she gasped, all of her intention focused on stilling his movement by seizing control of his Mods.

  Tregenne landed close to her, prone, his fingers weakly grasping her wrist. “That’s a good girl. You’re strong enough for this to actually work.” He coughed out a rasping laugh before his hand went limp as consciousness left him.

  Kayla’s shoulders heaved with unshed tears and empty gulps of air. She pulled herself along the ground to reach Jeremy, who had already crawled a few feet in her direction. She sat up, shaking, and eased his bloody head into her lap. “I hate to say it, but I was so used to the powers the Ruiners lent you.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He attempted a smile, but his facial muscles awkwardly disobeyed.

  She tried to gather her energy, but the center of her being felt cold. Kayla could feel his life force weakening. She had to admit that she was out of her depth when it came to the fetters; their properties and the consequences of their use were not known to her. It was pure will, pure fire, pure love that tore them from him, but was there another way? Some method that wouldn’t have left him drained and helpless? Perhaps it was unavoidable. His body went through weeks of abuse, pushed beyond limits that he was unable to feel. The Ruiners quietly took everything from him, cruelly disguising his slow death as the birth of a dark god. Now the Eclipse was at their heels, and she could see no other option. Without the time to cultivate her healing energy, she would have to use Za’in’s methods to ensure Jeremy’s survival.

  “The Eclipse…it’s about to happen, isn’t it?” he murmured. “There were times I thought it would always stay some distant threat or promise. I was supposed to be standing today.”

  Kayla held her breath while she shifted out from beneath him and hooked her hands beneath his armpits. “We have to get out of here before he wakes up,” she whispered shakily, dragging him through the doorway.

  “Leave me here. You have to run.”

  “No. I’m going to meet Sebastian.”

  “You can’t be serious, Kayla…”

  She let go of him and rested by his side, panting. “When I felt human, I wanted to stop him. When I mistook myself for an Angel, I wanted to help him. But you remind me what I really am. Being a Nephil is no different than being anything else. I can’t make decisions based on what I think my parents would want or what might be best for the world. I can’t foresee that future. I only know that every time I tried to forget you, I was divided further from myself. I’m not going to let you die.” Kayla brought forth her Intercessor with effort; her palm felt thick and swollen. Her entire body tensed as she held her breath and snapped off a tiny piece of white bone. “Before the sun is fully obscured, take this into your body. It will save you.” She dropped the fragment into his hand, closing his fingers into a fist around it.

  “Shit. I guess I have no other choice. I’ll be right behind you.” He closed his eyes, wincing and swallowing. “Just don’t get yourself killed, beautiful.”

  Kayla’s cold lips sought his, their union a promise that the fire would rise up again. She ascended the ladder, eager for her last look at this sun.

  *

  Michael burst out through the doors of the church, the sunlight causing his hair to blaze like flames of righteousness. The man he chased disappeared behind the tightening semi-circle of soldiers that surrounded the leader of the rebellion. His Intercessor engaged, whipping a bloody arc across the line of men in black before it contracted tightly around his knuckles and down his forearm. His barbed fist smashed into the face of his first opponent, his opposite arm knifing the bowels from an attacker that entered through his blind spot. The next warrior he felled received a blow from the back of his arm, a descending strike thick with barbs. His left hand followed the rush of that wild circle, his blade catching deep in the chest of another assailant. Michael dropped to the ground, falling below a swinging sword, his long legs taking the root out from under two other soldiers. His body spiraled, landing on top of one of the felled men, swiftly snapping his neck. Michael’s palm made contact with the temple of the other, his Intercessor penetrating and contracting in an instant.

  He sat up among his felled enemies, his face grave, to watch Asher approach. Serafin’s face was softer, his beard thinner. He dragged a bound man along with him, a kukri to his throat.

  Michael stood, searching the soldier’s pockets until he found the relic. He stared at the unusual bone formation in his hand.

  Asher saw the conflict in his mentor’s face. “You have to do it. It’s the safest place to keep it from Za’in.”

  He bowed his head, red braids swinging, and thrust the shard of bone through his right palm. He suppressed a cry, his fingers twitching as he grasped his trembling arm. “Fine, it’s done,” Michael said between clenched teeth. “One less weapon to be used against us.”

  Kittie stayed hidden behind the concrete barrier and tugged on Jeremy’s arm. “He’s strong. We should see if we can go with him.”

  The boy shrugged off her fingers, accustomed to bossing the older girl around. “No.”

  “You said we need to be on the winning side.”

  “We will be,” he breathed, watching as Michael and Asher ran towards the falling radio tower in the distance. Steelryn and Serafin were strong, but it was Za’in that was on top.

  *

  Bruno’s eyes fluttered open as he awoke, the vision shattered. “The relic was a diversion!”

  “If that tower was functioning…it would have been more potent than any of Za’in’s magic,” Vic murmured.

  Kerif groaned, leaning against the chains that held him. “Did we just have the same dream?”

  “Ev’ry time I clos’ m’ eyes, I’see Kittie.” Fec rubbed his sore limbs. “Whattaya think they did t’er? What’ll they do t’us?”

  “They already did something to us.” The dreadlocked pirate looked down at the bandages around his elbows, and his bruised, lumpy forearms.

  Vic scanned the chapel and its prisoners, over one hundred in number. “Looks like we all have Mods. Everyone that’s taken comes back with bandages, and those with external Mods come back with purple bones, instead of black.” He touched his swollen arms. “The stones on the cliffs…why are they putting them inside us?”

  “This Eclipse isn’t about destruction…it’s about creation.” Bruno looked up at his friends with wide eyes, quickly narrowing again with resolve. “We can’t let this happen. I don’t know how he’s going to do it, but we’re the ‘new race’ Kittie was talking about.”

  Kerif tugged on his chains. “Ugh. Us? Talk about de-evolution.”

  “Not if Za’in switches out the parts of us he doesn’t want,” Vic whispered.

  “With what?”

  There was a stretch of silence before Fec spoke, his eyes closed and face peaceful. “I had a’dream tha’ Kittie was surroun’ed by fire. She didn’t look like ’erself, but I knew it was ’er. She had wings, two sets of ’em. An’ she roar’d like a lion, an’er eyes were eagle-sharp, an’ I could feel ’er strength…she was practic’lly an ox! She
tol’ me—”

  “This world is ours…” Bruno said softly, remembering.

  “…but we fight with God’s will behind us, through his last messenger,” Vic concluded.

  Kerif straightened, his head snapping up. “Oh Christ — she’s an Angel, isn’t she? It makes sense! It makes so much sense! First Gabriel turned out to be an Arch, and now this? We catch onto these things really slow, don’t we?”

  The massive double doors of the chapel were slowly parting, opening the room up to morning’s warm light. The pirates felt their Mods, at once more powerful, but restrained and sluggish. Their eyes darted between each other’s gazes and the two figures that were meeting in the garden, as they waited for the moment their tiny flames would attempt to outshine an inferno.

  *

  Kayla squinted in the sunlight as she walked towards the dark form that cut a void into the morning’s brilliance, deeper than the small chip in the sun’s disk. He stood tall, his shoulders only slightly stooped beneath the weight of his purpose, his black clothes just as simple as always on this fated day. Sebastian turned as she approached, his brow tensing at the sight of her torn clothes and the blood and dirt smeared across her skin. He snatched her wrist and pressed their palms together, searching for answers.

  “You…whore!” he bellowed, striking her across the face when he saw into her most recent memories.

  Kayla fell to her knees, her voice rising softly from beneath her hair. “Was it forbidden for me to love?”