by Vivian Wood
Rebel Angel
A Sainted Sinners Novel
Vivian Wood
Contents
Author’s Copyright
Pronunciation Guide
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
If You Liked Rebel Angel…
Want More of Ezra and Aurora?
Dirty Angel
Pronunciation Guide
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Join The Vixens
About Vivian Wood
Author’s Copyright
Cover Design by Sennah Tate
Copyright Vivian Veritas Publishing 2016
May not be replicated or reproduced in any manner without express and written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Pronunciation Guide
A guide to pronouncing some of the more “quirky” names in the Sainted Sinners world:
Belial - Bell-ee-ahl
Armeros - Arm-urr-ose
Kirael - Kee-ray-eyl
Le Medcin - Luh Med-sinn
Priya - Pree-ah
Grigori- Gree-go-ree
Prologue
Aurora
“A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.” — Coco Chanel
2014, Rural Maine
Aurora Vincent shivered as an icy gust of wind swept through the cemetery. The first light of day crept up over the horizon, filtering down over the cemetery.
She looked down at the two graves before her. One grave a few months old, blending in with the rest of the cemetery. The other was fresh, the black soil turned over in a neat coffin-sized rectangle.
For a moment, she was caught in the past, a childhood memory of her mother and brother taking her breath away.
“Aura,” her mother used to say, reaching out to run her fingers through Aurora’s bright red hair. “My sweet girl. My lucky penny.”
Two years younger and only just beginning to talk, Jackson had picked up the nickname.
“Pen!” he’d squawk, flapping his chubby little hands to get her attention. “My Pen!”
The name stuck, a practical joke between the three of them.
Now, Aurora was the only one left alive. No else one in the entire world knew the joke, or the nickname.
Standing in the graveyard, looking down at their graves, it all seemed impossible, surreal.
The two people she loved most, the only family she had left… dead and gone.
One killed by the agents of Heaven, one by the agents of Hell. No reason for it, except that an arcane prophecy named the Vincent bloodline as being capable of producing Nulls.
Some dusty old book said that Aurora and her family were supposed to be some kind of rare supernatural creatures. Perfectly unbiased beings in the Kith world, who might swing the aftermath of the apocalypse in Heaven or Hell’s favor.
Might have an influence. If they were actually Nulls, which no one could predict.
And yet, the forces of Heaven and Hell had feared the Vincents so greatly that they took… precautionary measures.
Measures that had led to this moment, to Aurora looking down at her mother and brother’s graves. Swearing to her family and to herself that she would not let the same fate befall her.
She stepped forward and laid a single rose on each grave, long-stemmed and red as spilled blood. She reached out and brushed away the thin layer of snow that clung to each grave, obscuring the words.
Jackson Vincent, said the older one. Fireman. Devoted Christian. Loving Brother. 1992 — 2014.
Christine Vincent, said the fresh grave. Beloved Mother. Practical Joker. 1966 — 2014.
Aurora drew in a deep breath, rose to her feet, stepped back to look down at them once again.
The air was so cold it hurt her lungs, the ground hard under her feet. It was easier, focusing on these small physical discomforts. Easier than confronting what she felt in her heart. The deep well of black, writhing anguish that filled her to the brim, leaving room for nothing but the shallowest of breaths.
Right this moment, Aurora felt empty, hollow.
She’d cried all her tears. Drank herself to the point of blackout, a few times. Tied her waist-length copper hair into a long braid, shorn the whole thing off at the nape of her neck.
When she tossed the braid on her brother’s coffin instead of a handful of dirt, there was no missing the pityingly curious expressions of the onlookers.
Aurora didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Could barely feel anything beyond her own consuming numbness.
The firefighters from Jackson’s unit, the longtime friends of the family, the few school friends of Aura’s bothered to show up. They didn’t understand what she’d lost.
Those people at the funeral, they didn’t know that her family made her the sweet, cheerful Aura that everyone knew and loved. They couldn’t understand that Aura was gone, lost forever now.
Aurora blinked hard as the graveyard went blurry. Three weeks to the day of Jackson’s funeral, she’d returned. To whisper her secrets into the wind, to say goodbye.
She touched her cheek, startled to find the warm, wet track of a single tear.
“That’s the last one,” she whispered to her mother and brother. “The last tear. I promise.”
The tear went icy against her skin, then dried.
It isn’t right, she thought. Night turns to day, the world moves on.
Her mother and brother were already forgotten, just two innocents among the countless slain in the war between Heaven and Hell.
All that violence, and for what?
Lucifer luring her brother away, that Aurora almost understood. Almost. Satan was seductive, nearly irresistible.
But when one of the most powerful angels descended upon her mother, causing her eventual death…
That was Aura’s breaking point.
For so many victims of this unholiest of wars, there was no attempt at justice. No one paid for the sins that robbed people of their lives, stole them from their families.
The Vincents would be different, though.
“I came to show you this,” Aurora said. “Mom, don’t be mad.”
Pulling back the stiff sleeve of her coat
, Aurora exposed her left forearm. Emblazoned in a slender French script from her inner wrist to the bend of her elbow was the new word she lived for: vengeance.
“I made you a promise, both of you,” she said. “I told you I would strike at the ones responsible. I said I would never let myself be compromised by Heaven or Hell.”
She fell silent for a moment, struggling for the right words.
“I won’t be coming here anymore,” she said at last, her head dropping. “But I swear, with the last breath in my body, I will find justice for you both.”
With a final nod, Aurora turned away and left the graves. It took everything she had to leave the graveyard, to walk past the quaint country church, to climb into her car.
But she’d made them a promise, to keep herself safe and avenge their deaths. To do that, she had to leave. Start fresh, hide herself completely. Research, plot, and prepare.
Her future and new life lay ahead of her, and it was time to move forward.
Swallowing hard, Aurora pulled out onto the road, refusing to look back.
1
Aurora
New Orleans, 2016
“Hey look, we’re twins!”
Aurora glanced up from sprinkling a last bit of fresh mozzarella onto the pizza she was making. Her roommate Vesper walked into the kitchen, her long black hair in a single thick braid.
Aurora touched her own copper-colored braid and gave Vesper a smile.
“Sure are,” she agreed. “Except you’re wearing black leather pants in the middle of summer, because you’re crazy.”
“Hey, we live in the French Quarter in New Orleans. Crazy is the new normal here.” Vesper grinned. “Anyway, we can’t all look so good in jeans and a flour-covered apron.”
“Hah,” Aurora said. “I’m making a white pizza if you’re interested.”
Vesper arched a brow. “Depends. Is the crust actual bread, or did you make a cauliflower pizza again?”
Aurora couldn’t help but laugh. “The look on your face when you tried it… priceless.”
“Pizza is sacred. Making the crust with a vegetable is like… sacrilege.”
Aurora chuckled as she picked up the pizza and slid it into the oven.
“It’s veggie-free, except a little spinach,” she assured Vesper. “It is a white pizza, after all. Organic, but otherwise just your average gourmet pizza.”
“Cool.” Vesper cleared her throat. “So… I wanted to talk to you about something. About why I haven’t been around the apartment much lately.”
“Mmmhm,” Aurora said. “A new man, maybe?”
“Yes. For the last few months, I’ve been dating this guy. He’s… a Fallen.”
“Say that again?” Aurora asked, only half listening.
She started to stack the dishes she’d dirtied while cooking, content that her homemade pizza was going to be a success.
“I’m dating Kirael. He’s a Fallen angel,” Vesper said.
Aurora whirled. She and Vesper stood in the tiny kitchen of their apartment, staring each other down for a long moment.
“An angel?” she asked, feeling her blood rush to her head.
“Yeah. It’s pretty serious.”
I’m blown, she realized. I got comfortable here, didn’t protect myself like I should have.
“I see,” was all Aurora could manage.
She gripped her Kiss The Chef! apron with both hands, feeling her palms begin to sweat. Already, in the back of her head, she was making plans.
Another tiny part of her couldn’t repress the image of her mother’s body, just the way Aurora found her that fateful night.
Designer dress and pearls, freshly dyed blonde hair done in gorgeous waves… Aurora didn’t recognize her at first. Only when she turned her mother over did she realize…
Aurora shoved the memory away.
Focus! she snapped at herself.
“Aurora, wait,” Vesper said. “I can see that you’re upset, but there’s a reason I’m telling you this.”
She’d have to run, tonight. There was no other option.
“I know that you’re… um…” Vesper started, then stopped.
“A Null,” Aurora said, her voice gone flat.
She couldn’t get that same image out of her head.
She rolled the corpse over, saw the upside-down cross seared into the forehead. Then she looked at the face, and understood. She dropped her mother’s shoulder, hysterical tears rising…
“Right!” Vesper said, drawing Aurora’s attention back. “So Kirael knows, too…”
“Kirael is the— the angel?” Vesper said.
Her lips felt strangely numb. Her fingertips, too.
“Yeah. He’s… well, obviously I’m a little biased. But he’s a really good person. He’s going to help you.”
“Help me?” Aurora whispered.
“Yes. We’ve known for quite some time. About you being a Null, I mean.”
“Oh no…” Aurora moaned. “Who have you told?”
“No one, until today. Kirael swore to me that he wouldn’t act unless you were in danger.”
Aurora stared at Vesper. Vesper was calm and steady, and it was plain to see that she believed every single word she said. Vesper was a straight shooter to the point of being overly blunt sometimes.
“Two minutes,” Aurora said after a moment. “You have two minutes to explain before I pack my bag and run.”
“We’ve heard rumors,” Vesper said, wasting no time. “Credible rumors, filtering up from multiple sources in the Kith community.”
“And what do they say?” Aurora asked, trying her best not to lose the last thread of her patience.
“That Heaven and Hell both have agents hunting you.”
“That’s not news,” she said, balling up her fists.
“No, but Belial has been sighted here.”
Aurora paused. AA Lucifer’s second in command in Hell, Belial was not easy to dismiss.
“It could be coincidence,” she said.
“Maybe, if Kirael and I hadn’t also seen one of the Watchers with our own eyes.”
Aurora cocked her head. “I don’t know that name.”
“The Watchers are sort of… Heavenly enforcers. When Heaven has to interfere with mortal life on Earth, the Watchers are the ones that do it. Kirael used to work with them, at times. He says that this guy, Armeros, doesn’t appear unless a human’s done something pretty seriously deranged.”
“Armeros?” Aurora went cold, the name barely escaping her lips.
“You know of him?” Vesper asked, but Aurora wasn’t listening.
He’s coming for you. Jackson’s deep voice, ringing through her mind: are you just going to stand here and fail?
Aurora flinched. No, she thought. I’m not going to let them capture me.
When she moved to leave the kitchen, Vesper held out a hand to stop her.
“What are you doing? What about your pizza?”
Aurora slowly turned back to the oven, turning it off. Then she pushed past Vesper to leave the kitchen, going to her bedroom.
Without even bothering to shut the door, she grabbed a backpack from her closet. Opening it on her bed, she turned to her chest of clothes.
There’s so much I want to keep… she thought, rifling through stacks of jeans and t-shirts. I did this to myself. Started to think I might be able to stay here…
She wondered what her mother would say.
Would she have been disappointed? Oh, Pen. You know better.
“Aurora?”
When Vesper called her name from the doorway, Aurora nearly jumped out of her skin.
“What?” she asked.
Her chest started to feel a little tight.
Stop thinking about Mom and Jackson, she chided herself. Save that for later, when you’re on a bus to a new city.
“I just… I thought we were talking,” Vesper said.
“I don’t have time for this,” Aurora said. “You don’t understand what you just did
.”
Aurora picked a few t-shirts, all solid colors with no writing.
“I think… I mean, I know this seems like a betrayal, but Kirael just wants to help.”
Vesper hovered just outside Aurora’s bedroom. For the first time since Aurora met her, Vesper actually looked anxious.
“You don’t understand,” Aurora said.
She was on autopilot now; this was the fourth time in two years that she’d been forced to pack and run on short notice.
She grabbed couple pairs of jeans. A fistful of clean underwear, just the practical stuff. Socks.
“Why are you packing?” Vesper asked.
Aurora grabbed two pairs of Converse from the closet, the only sneakers she owned. When she turned, Vesper had stepped fully into the room.
“I have to leave. Tonight. Now, actually.”
Aurora moved to put the shoes next to the duffel. Vesper reached out to touch her arm, and Aurora pulled back as though burned.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Aurora, I just want you to slow down for a second. You look really pale,” Vesper said. “Why don’t we just sit down and talk for a second?”
“Just leave me alone,” Aurora said.
She blinked. When she glanced over at the purple curtains she’d hand-stitched only the week before, spots swam in her vision. “Crap.”
Aurora pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She swayed a little on her feet.
“Hey, hey,” she heard Vesper said.
She trembled when Vesper moved closer, reached out to gently guide Aurora to the bed.
“Just sit down. Take a deep breath,” Vesper urged.
“I can’t feel… I can’t feel my hands,” Aurora said. She let her hands fall from her eyes, then stared down at them in her lap. “Something’s wrong.”
“Okay. It’s okay. My boss gets panic attacks,” Vesper said. “Lean forward a little, elbows on your knees. Good, good. Let your head hang down. Close your eyes…”
Vesper rubbed Aurora’s back in slow circles. Aurora cringed from her touch.