Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Felicity Heaton

  Towards Hell.

  Apollyon growled. “Asmodeus.”

  His twin was going to die for this.

  He concentrated on the call Serenity was sending him.

  It disappeared.

  He gritted his teeth and curled his fingers into fists, clenching them tightly.

  “He took Serenity?” Amelia said, her grey eyes beginning to turn silver and her emotions rising, tainting her power in a way that he could sense. “Why?”

  “He has to have a reason,” Erin piped in and ignored the scowl Amelia tossed her way. She settled her amber gaze on Apollyon and rubbed her belly, smoothing the black material of her dress over it. She was the only one not wearing armour, having complained that it hurt her baby and she didn’t need it because she could teleport in a snap. “Maybe he wants Serenity to find Liora?”

  A reasonable explanation. It would take a witch to find a witch. Apollyon was still going to kill him though.

  The quiet voice at the back of his mind mocked him, pointing out that he had left his female alone and something had snatched her. He was no better than Asmodeus.

  He let out a frustrated growl.

  “We need to find them.” He turned his focus towards Serenity again but felt nothing.

  He had travelled in Hell for centuries and had heard rumours that Asmodeus held court in a distant region of the realm, having constructed himself a castle there that was fitting for the so-called King of Demons. None of the demons he had tortured for information had been able to give him a location though. They had only stammered that none went there. The King of Demons ruled a barren land and killed any who strayed into his realm.

  He had never seen it for himself and didn’t know where to begin looking. Hell was as vast as Earth and Heaven. Without a location, it would take months or years to track Asmodeus down, and he had a feeling that they had only hours.

  “I cannot feel her. I do not know where Asmodeus has taken her.” He looked to Erin. “Can you feel him?”

  “I don’t know how. I know he said that he could feel me… and I know he brought you here because he could sense my location… but I don’t know how he does that, and I don’t know if I can do it. I try to feel him and I get nothing back.” Erin settled her hands on her stomach and looked to the others, her black eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “There has to be a way to find him before he does something insane… like that whole angel-bait incident with the shark.”

  “He does not get that from my blood,” Apollyon muttered beneath his breath and frowned at the sand, his frustration mounting and getting the better of him. He needed Serenity back. He couldn’t trust that Asmodeus would keep her safe in Hell. She was immortal now, but she could still be harmed. She could still die.

  “There has to be a way to find him,” Marcus said. “Can’t we just head down to the plateau and await him? He is bound to go to the Devil’s fortress.”

  “No. If we leave it that long… if we’re late… Serenity might end up… well, you know.” Amelia cast Apollyon an apologetic glance when he scowled at her, silently cursing her for voicing his innermost fears.

  Veiron remained silent and still, his gaze locked on the charred black logs in the fire pit.

  “Veiron?” Apollyon said and stepped forwards, coming to stand on the other side of the dead fire.

  Veiron lifted his head, fixing crimson eyes on him that swirled with gold and black flakes. The gold began to dominate the red. Apollyon had seen his eyes do that before, when it had become apparent that he had formed a contract with Erin and he had been lost in a vicious temper, battling the Devil. Since then, his eyes had never turned golden. That they were doing so now unnerved Apollyon and put him on his guard.

  “Nevar,” Veiron growled.

  “My guardian angel?” Erin said with a frown and Veiron nodded stiffly.

  “He is obsessed with Asmodeus… he has been tracking him.” Veiron turned his golden and crimson gaze back on the blackened driftwood. “If anyone knows where he is, it is Nevar… but… I do not want Erin to come with us.”

  “Why the hell not?” Erin planted her hands on her hips and glared at her male.

  Veiron gently laid his hand on her swollen stomach and sighed down into her eyes, the gold in his fading. “Nevar is dangerous. Fucked up. I don’t want you near him.”

  The last time Apollyon had seen the white-haired guardian angel, he had been intent on killing Asmodeus. Asmodeus had awakened evil in him, a terrible darkness that had fed Nevar’s wrath and turned him on Asmodeus. He had still been recognisable as the male who had served Heaven, protecting Erin from a distance, but evil took hold quickly in angels with the capacity for it, dragging them swiftly down into the darkness.

  “When did you see him last?” Apollyon looked across the fire pit to Veiron, fearing what his answer would be.

  “A few weeks ago. Villandry called me to London… you remember?” He looked at Erin and she nodded, her amber eyes filling with concern. Veiron took her hand and squeezed it. “Nevar wanted nothing to do with me. He was… is… there’s something very wrong with him. I barely recognised him.”

  Apollyon’s black eyebrows met in a frown. “Evil. The darkness has him. Asmodeus awakened it in him.”

  “Well, it sank its claws pretty damn hard into the bloke. He is seriously messed up.”

  “But you think he will know where Asmodeus is?” Apollyon was willing to risk the wrath of a poisoned angel to find Serenity. He was strong enough to take down Nevar if he had to.

  Probably.

  Veiron nodded.

  “Then I will pay him a visit. Where will I find him?” Apollyon stroked his blades and ignored the irritated and incredulous looks the others threw at him.

  “We will pay him a visit. So where are we going?” Erin held her hand up when Veiron went to protest. He growled, his dark crimson eyebrows knitting hard above his red and gold eyes.

  “Where would you find the damned?” Veiron gathered Erin into his arms, tucking her against his side, and held his hand out in front of him, his palm facing outwards. The air shimmered and the landscape beyond it distorted. Veiron grinned as curling black smoke formed and then a portal erupted in white fierce flames. “Cloud Nine.”

  He leaped into the portal and Apollyon followed him, landing in a grotty street outside a red brick building. There was a metal door with a neon sign above it. It was switched off.

  A small black camera mounted on the wall above the door swivelled towards them.

  Veiron saluted it with his middle finger.

  The metal door creaked open and a huge shaven-headed man wearing worn black jeans and a charcoal grey t-shirt three sizes too small for his rotund stomach lumbered out. His gaze locked on each of them in turn and he pointed meaty fingers.

  “No.” Amelia. “No.” Marcus. “No.” Apollyon.

  To Veiron and Erin, he grinned, flashing yellowing teeth, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the dark room beyond the door.

  Apollyon beat his black wings, shot across the narrow strip of grimy pavement between them, and grabbed him around the throat and slammed him against the door, bending it backwards until it smashed into the wall.

  “You think to deny me?” Apollyon squeezed, digging his fingers into the male’s chubby neck, until his flesh bulged from between them and his eyes watered. Veins popped out across his forehead and he turned red.

  “I really wouldn’t piss him off.” Veiron sauntered past, guiding Erin into the building. “The Great Destroyer has anger management issues.”

  Amelia and Marcus sidled around them, giving him as wide a berth as possible, and followed Erin and Veiron into the dark club.

  Apollyon leaned in, staring hard into the demon’s eyes, his own swirling blue with his fury.

  “You. Think. To. Deny. Me?” He spat each word, tightening his grip by degrees.

  The demon tried to speak.

  Apollyon loosened his fingers and waited.

  “Mistake. Enter.�
� The demon wheezed, his eyes watering and pleading him for mercy.

  Apollyon tossed him across the narrow street, sending him crashing into a wall there, his anger getting the better of him. The male dropped to the ground, revealing an impact crater in the red brick, and landed in a puffing heap. He wisely remained there, even though Apollyon silently dared him to move so he could unleash some of his pent up fury on the worthless male.

  “Demon filth.” Apollyon swept into the building, his eyes quickly adjusting to the low light.

  “I heard that,” Veiron muttered from the shadows. “Play nice. The boss has a temper too, and she’ll rip you a new one if you misbehave.”

  Apollyon scanned the club. This was pointless. It was dark, no one manned the bar, and the sign was off. It was evidently closed. Veiron was wasting his time.

  Apollyon opened his mouth to demand they leave and search for Nevar elsewhere.

  A feral growl came from the darkness ahead and vivid glowing purple eyes shone like jewels embraced in velvet.

  Light streamed in from outside, chasing back the gloom a few metres into the expansive room, but beyond that was pitch black. Whatever the darkness concealed, it was angry, dangerous and wanted blood.

  Apollyon could sense its evil slithering over him, power that challenged his own, bringing it to the surface to protect him from this creature’s wrath and fury.

  Black booted feet appeared from the gloom, pale light chasing up them as the male approached, revealing something that made Apollyon take a step back.

  Armour.

  Black greaves edged with violet.

  No angels wore armour like that.

  The male stalked forwards, the light racing up his bare thighs. His skin faded to black from just above his kneecaps down to his feet. A demonic angel like Veiron, in the midst of transformation?

  Or something worse?

  Hip armour was followed by a flash of bare stomach and black clawed fingers clutching a curved black and violet blade. The purple-edged black vambraces protecting his forearms bore a rampant violet dragon on each one.

  What had Asmodeus done to him?

  Nevar halted, his feet at the edge of the light, as if he didn’t dare step into the sun’s rays. The shadows barely touched his face, revealing it. He looked as Apollyon remembered, but in place of his normal jade eyes were fierce purple ones filled with twisted desires and vicious hungers, and his white hair looked as if he had cut it himself with a dull blade, hacking at the sides until they were tufted and messy but leaving it longer on top.

  Nevar’s top lip peeled back off his fangs and he narrowed his gaze on Apollyon.

  “Die.” He lifted his blade and Veiron was right in front of him, pressing his hands against his black breastplate and holding him back. Nevar snarled over Veiron’s shoulder at Apollyon, his eyes flashing dangerously. “He must die.”

  “Not the right twin,” Veiron said in a soft voice and held him firm. “See. Blue eyes. Long hair. Tendency to fall on the side of good over evil.”

  Nevar growled and breathed hard, lowering his blade with effort but not taking his eyes from Apollyon.

  Veiron had been right.

  Nevar was very screwed up indeed.

  “Hungry,” Nevar husked, bared his fangs and struck at Veiron’s neck. Veiron braced his forearm against Nevar’s throat, keeping him away, and growled at him.

  “Not for eating, remember?” Veiron managed to shove him back and Nevar snarled, his face dark and filled with the hunger he had spoken of, thirst for blood.

  “Veiron?” Erin whispered and Nevar’s gaze fell on her, cleared and he shifted back into the shadows, sinking into them.

  “Do not see… ward. Help me.” He reached for her and Veiron swatted his clawed hand away, growling at him. He darkened again and snarled, baring his fangs at the Hell’s angel, and then turned softer eyes on Erin, his pale silvery eyebrows furrowing as he gazed at her. His fingers flexed and voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “Help me.”

  Erin held her stomach and her own black eyebrows met in a look filled with pity. “I don’t know how to help you. I wish I did.”

  Nevar growled and turned his back on them, heaving with each ragged breath he sucked down. His arms tensed, body going rigid, and he clenched his black fists. Blood dripped from between his tight fingers, evidence that he was harming himself with his claws.

  “Leave,” he snarled over his shoulder.

  “We need you to tell us where to find Asmodeus.” Apollyon stepped forwards before the angel could retreat into the darkness. Nevar’s shoulders tensed further and a feral growl escaped him, rumbling through the pitch black room. His power rose, becoming stronger, laced with fury and entwined with rage. “Asmodeus has taken Serenity. You will help me find him. You will help me find her.”

  “And what is in it for me?” Nevar glared over his shoulder at Apollyon, the dark desires in his eyes informing Apollyon of exactly what he wanted in return for his assistance.

  “I will let you deal with Asmodeus.” He wouldn’t let Nevar kill him but he would let the poisoned angel deal out some punishment for what Asmodeus had done to him.

  Nevar grinned, blood staining his fangs and his lower lip. Had he been sucking on it? Was he so ravenous for blood that he would take his own to sustain him and satisfy his thirst?

  “I do not feel like helping you.” Nevar turned towards the bar and Apollyon realised that he was more than hungry as he stumbled towards it, one clawed hand out in front of him, reaching and stretching.

  He was drunk.

  The angel didn’t stop when he reached the black bar. He hoisted himself up and leaned over it, fumbled around on the other side, and then straightened, holding a bottle of something. His boots hit the floor, he flicked the cap off with his thumb and chugged half of the colourful green bottle.

  “You will help us,” Apollyon said and braved a step closer.

  “Will not.” Nevar shook his head, causing the longer lengths of his white hair to fall down over his brow on one side.

  He shoved it back out of his face, set the bottle down on the shiny black bar top and leaned heavily on it. He glared at each of them in turn, except Erin. To her, he gave another pained and longing look, and then bared his fangs and hissed, turning vicious again.

  Veiron growled. “I warned you. I won’t warn you again.”

  The big Hell’s angel moved between Erin and Nevar, shielding her from the view of her former guardian. Losing sight of her seemed to pain Nevar and he quieted, staring at Veiron’s chest, as if trying to see through the male to his ward.

  “Help us,” Erin said and touched Veiron’s back, right between his large crimson-feathered wings, as she rounded him. The caress didn’t soothe him as intended, at least not to the degree she was evidently expecting, because he moved with her, keeping one thickly muscled bare arm in front of her, holding her back and blocking her way to Nevar.

  A wise move.

  Nevar was unpredictable in his current state. There was every chance that he would attack Erin if she drew too close.

  Nevar swigged from the bottle and Apollyon caught a flash of the label. Absinthe. A very potent alcoholic drink. Angels had incredible recuperative abilities though. Nevar would have to keep drinking to maintain even a tipsy state. The angel was beyond tipsy and deep into drunk and unruly territory, and something told Apollyon that it wasn’t only alcohol this angel had been imbibing.

  “Veiron, a word.” Apollyon caught him by his left arm and pulled him towards the front of the club, feeling Nevar’s gaze tracking him. Veiron pulled Erin with them, and Amelia and Marcus formed a defensive line.

  Apollyon doubted it would stop Nevar if he wanted to get to him.

  Nevar muttered black things beneath his breath, dark words that backed up the mixed and dangerous feelings that Apollyon could feel affecting his power. He wanted blood and sometimes he was finding it impossible to distinguish between Apollyon and the man he wanted to murder.

  Ap
ollyon pulled Veiron around to face him, keeping Nevar in view, and dropped his voice. “You may have warned me that Nevar’s state was in part due to addiction.”

  “Addiction?” Erin whispered and edged closer, flicking a glance at Nevar. “To booze?”

  “To Euphoria.” Apollyon glared at Veiron and waited for him to deny ever knowing that fact. The Hell’s angel didn’t. He stared right back at him with jet black eyes that showed no glimmer of surprise or flicker of regret over not having informed him.

  “He wasn’t this far gone last time I saw him, alright?” Veiron hissed and slid his gaze towards his shoulder, towards Nevar where he propped up the bar behind him, drinking himself into oblivion. “Villandry has been trying to help him kick it.”

  Erin looked sceptical. “He’s probably worsening things. That vampire is always mixed up in some bad shit.”

  Veiron shrugged. “He was the only one who wanted to do something about it… although I think that might be because he probably had something to do with it in the first place. Look, Nevar is still our only shot at finding out where Asmodeus—”

  Nevar launched himself across the room and shoved Veiron to one side, pushing him into Erin and causing the Hell’s angel to growl viciously as he quickly grabbed her to stop her from falling and harming her baby. Apollyon reacted immediately, drawing one blade and bringing it up in a fast arc, blocking the black sword coming straight for his throat.

  “Die!” Nevar spun low and swiped at his legs and Apollyon beat his black wings, shot up and backwards, narrowly avoiding banging his head on the low ceiling. He unleashed more of his power, calling on it to give him strength and to issue a warning to Nevar too.

  Even in this wretched state, the angel would be able to sense that he was up against a deadly foe, and liable to lose this fight as much as he was to win it.

  Nevar flashed fangs and launched another attack, kicking off the tacky club floor and springing at him.

  Apollyon dodged the weak attempt, twisted to let Nevar past, and brought the pommel of his sword down hard in the centre of Nevar’s back plate, sending him stumbling forwards towards the open door.