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

by Felicity Heaton

  Asmodeus tugged at the round edge of the collar and pulled a face. “It is more stifling and restrictive than I remember.”

  Nevar nodded in agreement. He had often found armour to be a hindrance, especially when not in combat. He never had fathomed how some angels managed to sleep in it.

  “Now you look even more like Apollyon.” Nevar couldn’t resist slipping that one out quietly.

  Asmodeus bared his fangs on a growl. “I can kill you again, if you wish? We know you will come back now.”

  Liora stood and stepped between them.

  “Now, now, boys. Lysia needs us.” She looked over her shoulder at Asmodeus. “If you kill him now, it will be days until he wakes up again. Kill him for it later.”

  Nevar stared at her, unable to believe she had just said such a thing to Asmodeus, practically condoning his killing him. She knew that her lover would take it as permission.

  “I am joking,” Liora said and when his expression didn’t change from one of horror, she looked back at Asmodeus, and adopted a firm tone. “It was a joke. Don’t you even think about killing him. I’m banning all attempts to kill Nevar. You were doing so well at getting along.”

  Asmodeus huffed and placed his hands on Liora’s shoulders, over her crimson gypsy-style top. “Very well. I will not kill him. May I maim him a little?”

  “No,” she snapped and her dark angel’s face fell and he sighed again. “Now be nice and give him something to eat.”

  The gold-edged black vambrace around Asmodeus’s right forearm disappeared.

  Saliva pooled in Nevar’s mouth and he stared at the smooth flesh on the inside of Asmodeus’s forearm, his hunger rising as his fangs slowly descended. He needed blood and wouldn’t deny himself this time. It would give him the strength to fight for Lysia and protect her.

  “I took blood from Lysia.” Those words slipped like a confession from his lips as his gaze darted to Liora, his green eyes meeting her hazel ones. She smiled softly and he lowered his focus to his bare knees, realising he wore only his black loincloth. His gaze sought his armour. It rested on a chair near the foot of the bed in the black-walled room. “Only a little… I was afraid to take more. I just wanted to feel the connection between me and Lysia strengthen again.”

  “What?” Liora said and he felt sure she was angry with him for breaking his programme and taking blood, but she had looked as if she had been fine with it. She crouched in front of him, her hazel eyes locking with his. “What do you mean, again?”

  “She took blood from me on the island. I fed her and it made the link between us stronger. We could feel each other more clearly. I wanted to feel that again, and we exchanged blood here in Hell, before the four angels came and took me away.”

  He had barely finished explaining before she was on her feet and rushing from the room.

  Asmodeus watched her go, a frown marrying the black slashes of his eyebrows, and then looked back at him, desire for an explanation written in every line of his face.

  Nevar shrugged. “I thought perhaps you would know why she ran away. Is she angry with me?”

  His master shook his head and offered his arm. “Feed properly now and regain your strength, because you will need it in the fight to come.”

  Nevar was swift to take it, capturing Asmodeus’s arm in both of his hands and drawing it to him, and sinking his fangs into it before his master could change his mind. Asmodeus’s blood flooded his mouth and flowed down his throat, instantly absorbing into his body. Power rushed through him, strength he had forgotten he possessed, as he fed deeply, drawing everything that Asmodeus was offering him into himself.

  Hope filled his heart, given life by the renewed strength flowing in his veins.

  Hope that he now had the power to save Lysia.

  The ground shook again, more violently this time, and Asmodeus withdrew his arm and ran his tongue over the puncture wounds. Nevar licked his lips, relishing every last molecule of blood, unwilling to waste any of them.

  “I will help you reach Lysia and so will the others.” Asmodeus lowered his arm and the vambrace appeared around it again.

  “The others?” Nevar flexed his fingers and wriggled his bare toes, testing his body. It felt stronger now, more capable of holding his weight, but he didn’t want to risk rising from the bed until he felt sure he wouldn’t fall.

  Asmodeus nodded and Nevar listened hard. The voices were distant but they were there. Everyone was in the castle with him and they were all willing to fight on his side for the sake of Lysia. They were going to fight on her side.

  He wasn’t sure what to say.

  Until he realised with dread that if everyone was present, it meant his ward was too.

  “Erin,” he said and Asmodeus shook his head and pressed one hand to Nevar’s left shoulder.

  “She could not come. The Devil is forbidding her from entering this realm and has sent his men to guard her. Veiron is there with her.”

  He was glad of that. Her incredible power would have been of use and an advantage to them in the battle to protect Lysia, but her presence would have been a disadvantage too. Everyone would have been worrying about her and Dante.

  For once, he didn’t think the Devil was a complete bastard. He was doing the right thing by keeping Erin away from the battle and Nevar hoped it meant she would be safe and so would Dante. He wouldn’t let the future she had seen happen. He would fight to protect her too.

  “Come.” Asmodeus took hold of him and helped him onto his feet.

  Nevar walked with his assistance to the door of the bedroom and then made his own way from there, following Asmodeus down the black corridor towards the voices.

  They had gathered in the main living space of what remained of the fortress and all stopped to look at him as he entered.

  “The dead walks,” Taylor drawled with a wicked smile from where she sat on the huge table, a book balancing on her lap. In her black combat gear of knee-high boots, jeans and t-shirt, and with her sleek black hair, she almost blended into the furniture and walls beyond her. Her blue eyes sparkled at him. “Welcome back to the land of the living… what’s left of it anyway.”

  He stumbled into the long expansive black room and over to the obsidian rectangular table that occupied most of the space in the centre of it. He pressed his left hand against it for support and rested there, slowly beginning to feel stronger as his body used the blood Asmodeus had given him to nourish and restore itself.

  He scanned the occupants of the room.

  Liora stood at the far end, frantically scanning one of the massive bookshelves that lined the walls at the end and to the right of Nevar. Serenity was working with her, looking extremely out of place in her cream summer dress and with her long bright golden hair.

  Marcus and Amelia stood off to his left, besides the large fireplace, both of them dressed in their silver armour but neither with their wings out. Amelia bore several wounds on her bare arms and legs, and one on her face that darted across her forehead and into her silver hair. Marcus was busy wrapping a bandage around a deeper wound on her upper left arm, his silver-blue gaze locked on his work and his dark hair falling down to brush his forehead.

  “Where is Einar and Apollyon?” Nevar looked around the room again and added, “Where are the mutts?”

  Asmodeus growled from behind him and then crossed the room to his black throne and sprawled himself out on it. “They are guarding the fortress outside and will come if they spot anything.”

  “The mutts, or Einar and Apollyon?” Nevar frowned.

  “Romulus and Remus.”

  Serenity brought a book to the table and set it down. “Mon ange is… ah… scouting?”

  Asmodeus nodded when she looked uncertain. “Einar and Apollyon agreed to head out to see the progress of Lysia. Heaven and Hell are trying to drive her to within the reach of the Devil.”

  Nevar growled at that. “No. We cannot let that happen. He will kill her… or send her back to sleep. I have to reach he
r before then.”

  He paused and ran back over what Asmodeus had said.

  “Is Apollyon carrying Einar?” Because the angel was in a state of limbo due to his romantic relationship with a half-demon, stripped of his wings but still listed as an angel of Heaven.

  Taylor’s smile brightened. “Don’t be silly.”

  “But he does not have wings.” Nevar wasn’t sure why she thought him silly for pointing out the obvious. Apollyon would be at a disadvantage carrying Einar around with him.

  “Who says I do not have wings?” Einar entered with Apollyon in tow and Nevar could only stare at the tawny-haired male. Dusky brown wings arched behind him, their long feathers brushing the floor and the greaves of his dull-gold-edged earthy armour as he walked. Einar shot him a smile. “I was one of Heaven’s best hunter angels… and it would appear that my case was heard and judged just in time for them to reinstate me and use me in this fight. Strange that, don’t you think?”

  Nevar shook his head. “Very odd.”

  Apollyon slapped Einar on the back and the hunter angel lurched forwards.

  “You would almost think they were going to leave you wingless for the rest of your years, but had a sudden change of heart when they realised they were running low on experienced angels,” Apollyon said with a smile that fell away as he sobered and turned to face the rest of them. “It is not good. Lysia is close to the area of the Devil’s prison. She is heading for the plateau, driven there by the First Battalion of Hell’s angels. She will be within reach of the Devil soon.”

  “We have to reach her before that happens.” Nevar called his armour. The violet-edged black breastplate formed over his chest first and the back plate appeared and linked with it over his shoulders and under his arms. His vambraces followed, the rampant dragons on them matching the ones on Asmodeus’s armour. The slats around his hips materialised and his boots came after them, shortly before the plates of his greaves completed his armour.

  He released his black wings and flapped them to bring his feathers into line, and held out his hand, preparing to call a portal that would take him to the plateau.

  “Wait.” Liora rushed over to him with a thick tome opened and pressed to her chest. She slammed it down onto the black table, drawing everyone’s focus to her. “You need to get through to Lysia somehow.”

  “I know that,” Nevar snapped. What did she think he had intended to do?

  Asmodeus snarled at him and stood, a towering wall of muscle and dark menace. “Tone, Nevar. Mind how you speak to my witch.”

  “I am sorry,” Nevar said to Liora and she just smiled. “Please continue.”

  She spun the book to face him and pointed at a lot of gibberish on it. “If you can calm her and bring her back, I think I can restore the seals on your chests. Blood. It’s all about blood. You said it yourself. When you shared blood, the connection grew stronger. It might still exist. Only the marks are gone… but the link is still there, buried in your blood… like your contract with Asmodeus.”

  His hand came up to his chest and he didn’t dare hope she was speaking the truth and was actually able to do what she was saying.

  Serenity came around her and peered down at the book, her hazel eyes scanning the pages. “This is a big spell. You will need help. I will help.”

  Liora nodded and clutched her hand. “Thank you. We can do this. Blood magic… it will be dangerous but we can do it.”

  Nevar caught the concern in Asmodeus’s eyes as he looked at Liora as she excitedly discussed everything with her cousin in French.

  He pressed his palm to his master’s shoulder, drawing his focus to him. “If it looks as if it might hurt her, I will not let her do it.”

  Asmodeus swallowed and nodded, and then the emotions in his golden eyes cleared and he straightened, rising to his full height. “Liora, Serenity and Taylor will all remain here. The rest of us will head to the plateau and intercept Lysia before she can reach the sphere of the Devil’s power.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  Nevar drew a deep breath. In for five. Out for five. He fought for calm among the raging storm of his emotions, a violent clash between hope and fear. No matter what he saw, no matter how she appeared, she was his Lysia inside.

  He pulled in another slow breath, filling his lungs up from the bottom, and exhaled.

  Cast his hand out before him, forming a swirling black maelstrom that would take him to the plateau.

  Stepped into the void with confidence in his heart.

  Vowed to never give up.

  Not to save the world.

  He wouldn’t fight for the world.

  He would fight for his whole world.

  He would fight for her.

  He would save her.

  CHAPTER 27

  Nevar stepped out of the portal and onto the wide plateau that stood above the bottomless pit. The distant ring of screams instantly snapped his attention off to his right, away from the Devil’s fortress where it rose into the inky sky of Hell ahead of him, surrounded by a ring of boiling lava.

  At the very edge of his vision, a battle raged. Fire blazed a trail across the darkness, shuttering everything else with its brightness. More screams came, flashes of white light flickering like the most violent of lightning storms as Heaven recalled the masses of the fallen. Pandemonium.

  The apocalypse.

  Fire reigned all across the furthest reaches that he could see. Hell was burning to ashes before his eyes. With each swathe of flames that burned the sky came more bright flashes, the dead angels disappearing at an alarming rate.

  A fierce shiver went through him like a bolt of electricity and he pressed his hand to the breastplate of his black armour.

  She was aware of him.

  In the midst of the distant darkness, twin violet spots glowed, directed at him. Horizontal bands of orange rushed up from below towards those purple eyes and another burst of fire erupted from between jagged teeth, each larger than he was tall.

  More white flashes punctured the darkness as screams echoed around the cavern of Hell and the ground shook as the beast advanced, emerging from the shadows as it approached a wide snaking river of lava.

  His heart launched into his throat, the sight of her stealing his breath.

  He hadn’t been prepared for her appearance after all.

  She stood taller than he had anticipated, the clawed tips of her enormous black leathery wings almost scraping the ceiling of Hell in places. Her great talons ploughed the basalt with each hard step forwards, shaking the realm and causing cracks to splinter outwards from beneath her paws. She swiped with her long tail, cutting a path through the angels and Hell’s angels swarming around her, the barbed tip skewering several of them in the process and sending them back to Heaven.

  Her crocodilian jaws opened again and her roar shook the hot air as she unleashed another devastating stream of fire, decimating her foes and taking out an entire legion of hunter angels with one blast.

  She threw her head back and the six black curved horns that grew from above her eyes and her ears on either side of her head shone in the light of the fire as she directed it upwards, towards a contingent of Hell’s angels who had been coming down at her. They screamed as one as her flames tore through them, incinerating their wings and leaving them plummeting towards the ground.

  Several angels made it through and attacked her, their blades bright arcs as they hacked at her scaly black body. She whimpered and veered right, trying to evade them as she snapped at them with her teeth and swung her right paw at them. He looked in the direction she was heading and growled through his fangs. The prison.

  Within the sphere of the Devil’s power.

  Nevar had seen enough.

  He ran towards the edge of the plateau, beating his black wings as he picked up speed, and sensed the others following him, bringing up the rear.

  Nevar launched from the edge of the plateau and dropped into the valley, his wings pinned against his back unt
il the last moment, when the ground came up at him and he spread them and shot across the terrain. He had to keep low. If he could fly beneath the angels attacking her, she might not see him until he was close enough to reach her.

  He beat his wings and swung up at an angle on his right, avoiding an outcrop of rocks, and levelled off again, flying so low he could reach down and drag his claws across the ground if he wanted to.

  Those claws altered as he unleashed his other form, calling all of his strength to the fore. He would need it if he was going to save her.

  The inky darkness swept over his skin, turning it all the colour of night, and he ground his teeth as his horns pushed, cracking through his skull to flare back from behind his ears. His claws became thick talons and his wings gained a violet shimmer as he flew over patches of lava, swaying left and right to remain over solid ground and avoid the intense heat of the pools.

  Asmodeus caught up with him, in the midst of his own transformation, his skin already obsidian and his horns curving through his black hair. His eyes flashed violet and the golden edge of his armour darkened to black before shining purple. Asmodeus looked across at him, nodded, and banked left, heading away from him and towards the prison.

  Apollyon followed him, his broad black wings beating the air and his dark ponytail streaming behind him as he gained speed to keep up with Asmodeus as he shot towards the prison.

  Amelia and Marcus remained behind Nevar with Einar.

  The great beast unleashed another ear-splitting roar and swatted a group of angels from the division of death away from her left side, sending them flying through the air and crashing into the ground, throwing a long streak of black dust up into the air.

  She turned towards them and Nevar gave a growl of his own when he saw the blood streaming down her front and leaking from deep wounds on her hindquarters.

  He beat his wings and shot beneath a legion of Hell’s angels hovering at a safe distance, all of them in their black demonic forms, their glowing red eyes locked on Lysia.