His master looked as surprised as Nevar felt before turning his black blades on the other angels and attacking them.
Nevar barrelled into the group and slashed at one of the angels. The guardian clumsily blocked his sword and fumbled an attack, and Nevar had his answer.
They were newly reborn.
He smiled wickedly.
Heaven had sent angels into Hell to stop Lysia and she had decimated most of its forces with the aid of his side. All of those angels had been reborn in Heaven, stripped of their memories, including their knowledge of fighting. Meaning most of the angels in Heaven were now weak and near defenceless.
Nevar roared and cut down two more angels, turned in the air and dealt a heavy blow to a third. Asmodeus had already handled the rest, and Veiron and Marcus were heading back towards them.
This was going to be easy.
Nevar’s eyes shot wide as he sensed the swift rise in power off to his left and quickly turned towards the guardian angel there, staring blankly at the silver blade of the spear shooting straight towards him.
Asmodeus barrelled into Nevar, sending him flying away from the path of the blow, and grunted.
Nevar twisted in the air to face Asmodeus and his eyes widened further. His master clutched the staff of the spear the angel had aimed at Nevar, breathing hard and frowning at the guardian at the other end of it. The blond male stared coldly at Asmodeus and shoved forwards, driving the spear’s blade deeper into Asmodeus’s chest through his black breastplate.
Asmodeus growled through his fangs as he pushed back against the angel, slowly tugging the spear from his chest, pain etched in every line of his face. His shadows twined around the spear, shattering the staff, and slipped from his skin, leaving him.
He paled and dropped to the ground, striking it hard.
Nevar roared and attacked the angel. The male tried to block with the remains of his spear but Nevar knocked it aside with one blade and thrust with his other, driving it deep into his side. Blood rolled down the black blade and Nevar pulled it free of his flesh and turned, bringing his other sword around in a swift arc.
The guardian angel produced another spear and braced it with both hands. Nevar’s blade struck the blue and silver staff, the clash ringing loudly across the facility and vibrating down through Nevar’s hands. This wasn’t a weak newly reborn angel. This one was strong.
He swept his second blade upwards, catching the angel across his right thigh. The male grunted and beat his silver-blue wings, shooting backwards and placing some distance between them. Nevar pursued him and spun his swords in his hands so the guards rested against his little fingers and the dull edge of the curved blades ran along his forearms.
The blond male attacked, shooting towards him and bringing his spear up in a swift diagonal arc.
Nevar raised his left arm, blocking the strike with his vambrace, and brought his right one around, slashing at the angel’s chest. The point of his blade cut across the male’s blue armour and caught his extended right arm, slicing through his biceps. The angel grasped his spear in both hands and hefted it, breaking past Nevar’s defences and knocking him sideways.
He didn’t give the angel a chance to land a blow on him. He dropped his left blade, threw that hand towards the blond male and sent shadows rocketing towards him. They struck deep, puncturing his stomach and chest and shooting out of his back.
The angel swallowed hard and then coughed up blood, his blue eyes turning dull as his arms dropped to his side and his spear slipped from his grip.
Nevar recalled his shadows and the male fell, his silvery wings streaming upwards as he dropped towards the cells. Bright light burst from him and he disappeared.
Nevar turned and flew downwards as quickly as he could, heading for Asmodeus where he lay in a pool of blood.
Veiron reached him first, back in his normal more human form, his broad crimson-feathered wings furling against his red-edged black armour as he landed. Marcus joined him and helped him remove the blade from Asmodeus’s chest. The dark angel gritted his teeth as it pulled free and collapsed against the white ground, fighting for breath. Nevar slowed his descent, unable to believe what Asmodeus had done. He had taken a blow for him, one that probably would have killed him.
The angel he had plotted to murder so many times had saved him.
He landed at Asmodeus’s feet and his golden eyes slowly opened, fixing on him.
“Don’t give me that look,” he croaked and grimaced, grunting as his face contorted and pain rippled through his power.
Nevar wiped the confused expression from his face and the concern from his eyes and crouched beside him.
Asmodeus struggled to swallow and opened his eyes again. Blood flowed from beneath his black breastplate, covering his pale skin, and he looked down at it, frowning at the wide slash in the metal just to the left of his heart.
“I have only had it back for a few days and look at it now.” His master’s lips tugged into a humourless smile as he looked back at Nevar. “Go. Leave me. You have to reach Lysia.”
Nevar shook his head, causing the strands of his white hair to slip down and caress his forehead. “No. I’m not leaving.”
“Insubordinate wretch,” Asmodeus muttered and closed his eyes and swallowed again. The pool of blood beneath him spread outwards across the white ground, creeping towards Nevar’s boots.
“I don’t take orders from you… get used to it.” Nevar looked from him to Veiron. “Can you heal him?”
Veiron scrubbed a hand over his scarlet hair and nodded. “It will take time.”
Marcus rose to his feet. “I’ll hold them off.”
The dark-haired angel launched into the air before Nevar could offer to help. Asmodeus grabbed Nevar’s ankle.
“Go. Leave me. All of you. You are wasting time.” His master shoved his leg, almost knocking him off balance.
Nevar removed his hand from his leg and clutched it. “Liora would kill me if I returned without you and, besides, you cannot leave her, remember? You made a vow that you would be with her and you definitely can’t break it now that you’re about to become a father.”
Veiron paused at his work, his crimson-edged golden eyes darting to Asmodeus. “You’re gonna be a dad?”
Asmodeus nodded and paled further.
Veiron’s red eyebrows rose and he shook his head, a look of consolation on his face. “It happens to the best of us. Hey, our kids can be playmates.”
Nevar could well imagine the hell they would cause together but didn’t mention it. He focused on Asmodeus, holding his hand and bearing the pain whenever his master squeezed it so tightly that his bones ached beneath his black skin.
Marcus returned, bloodied and beaten, out of breath, just as Veiron finished closing the wound in Asmodeus’s chest and sank back onto his heels.
The Hell’s angel looked up at Marcus and sighed. “You couldn’t take a few less hits?”
Veiron lumbered onto his feet and held his hand over the worst of Marcus’s injuries, a deep gash across his left side. The laceration closed before Nevar’s eyes and Nevar was glad that they had brought Veiron along. Without him, they probably wouldn’t have made it further than this.
Nevar helped Asmodeus onto his feet and the black-haired angel grumbled in the demon tongue as he fingered the slash in his breastplate.
“I will help you repair it later,” Nevar said and his master lifted his golden eyes to meet his. “Are you able to fight?”
Asmodeus nodded and shirked his grip. “Who do you think you are speaking to? Of course I am ready… and now I am angry. These angels will pay for damaging my new armour.”
He spread his black wings, beat them hard and lifted off. Nevar followed him, materialising his blades back in his hands, and flew over the rings of cells.
The white tower called to him, almost within reach now.
All that stood between him and Lysia were two dozen angels.
A huge winged demon crashed through the left
side of the wall of angels, taking several down with him, tearing into them as they fell.
Twenty angels.
Four against twenty sounded reasonable to Nevar. He liked those odds.
Asmodeus transformed again, his skin turning inky black and his horns emerging, and the gold edges of his obsidian armour shimmering violet.
Nevar followed him into the thick of the angels as Marcus and Veiron flew into them a few metres away, splitting the group in half.
He grunted as the first angel he encountered landed a swift blow on his jaw, snapping his head to one side, and slashed across his chest with a short blade. Nevar shoved his hand into the male’s face and pushed him back, and thrust with his sword, repaying the angel by slicing across his hip armour, leaving a deep groove in the blue slats.
A second angel attacked from behind and Nevar arched forwards as the blade cut down his back plate and to the right of his spine. He turned, throwing his weight into the strike, and the angel blocked with the vambrace around his forearm, pushed forwards with that arm to knock Nevar’s sword aside, and thrust at him with his blade.
He beat his wings and dodged the blow, and pinned them back to drop when the first angel tried to hit him from behind, ending up beneath both of them.
Nevar unleashed his shadows. They streamed from his outstretched hand, snagged the first angel by his ankle, and he yanked his arm downwards. The angel shot past him and he released him, not waiting to see him crash into the ground. He flapped his wings and shot upwards, towards the second angel, gripping one blade with both hands as he flew. He brought it down by his side and roared as he swept it upwards in a devastating arc, slicing through the stomach of the angel. A flash of light claimed him.
Asmodeus dispatched two angels with one single thrust of his sword, skewering both of them, and a third with his shadows, wrapping them around the male’s neck and squeezing the life out of him.
Nevar attacked the next angel who stood between him and Lysia, a younger-looking fair-haired male who was gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that it shook and his knuckles blazed white.
He sighed and put all of his strength into a swift right uppercut as he reached the male, landing a hard blow on his jaw and cheek and snapping his head backwards. The sword fell from the angel’s grip and he dropped, landing hard on top of a cell below Nevar, sprawled out but alive.
He really didn’t have the heart to kill newly reborn angels. It seemed cruel of Heaven to send them out to face him and his friends with zero training and experience. Lambs to the slaughter.
Nevar knocked another angel out with the hilt of his sword to the temple as the male dared to attempt an attack on him.
Asmodeus cut down three more of the angels and eyed the two unconscious ones below them. His right eyebrow lifted and he looked at Nevar.
Nevar turned his back on him. Asmodeus could point out that he had lost his mind later. He knew that an enemy was an enemy, but he preferred his enemies to at least know how to wield a sword.
He beat his black wings and sped over the remaining rings of cells. The door at the base of the tower came into view and he swooped towards it, Asmodeus following close behind him. The nearer he came to reaching the immense round white tower, the clearer he could feel Lysia.
He sent his weapons away, pressed his hand to his chest and landed in front of the black door.
“I am here.” He reached towards the door with his other hand, his palm facing it, but held back from touching it.
He needed to reach her. He needed to have her back in his arms and know that she was safe.
Was this how Asmodeus had felt when he had come to save Liora from the crystal chamber?
He looked across at the male in question as he allowed the darkness to recede from his body, leaving only his forearms and lower legs black. Asmodeus transformed back too, the inky shadows draining from his bloodstained skin.
When Asmodeus looked his way, he dropped his gaze, unable to look him in the eye when guilt churned his stomach, eating away at him like acid. He had made so many mistakes, and he wasn’t sure whether he could ever make amends, or if he would ever deserve the forgiveness of those he had hurt.
Asmodeus placed his hand on Nevar’s right shoulder and Nevar briefly closed his eyes, absorbing the silent comfort and forgiveness that his master offered him, and offering the same forgiveness to Asmodeus. They had both done terrible things to each other, but now they could move past those things and work together to create a better future.
The one they both wanted.
Veiron landed on Nevar’s other side and Marcus touched down shortly after him and strolled towards the black door.
The former guardian angel held his left hand out to it and the black slowly faded, revealing a dark interior.
Nevar slipped free of Asmodeus’s grip and entered the cell, wary of his surroundings in case someone attempted to kill him in the same manner he had tried to kill Asmodeus when he had been on the verge of rescuing Liora.
Lysia lay in the middle of the cold room, her black hair spilling like ribbons of ink across the white floor and her arms wrapped around her knees, tucking them against her stomach and chest. She looked too small and frail like that. Vulnerable.
He growled and held his hand out, focusing on her as he called a black robe. The soft material appeared on her bare body, covering her, stitched with silver embroidery of dragons around the lower third. A garment worthy of his beautiful destroyer.
Asmodeus entered behind him.
“We must move.”
Nevar nodded, stooped and scooped Lysia up into his arms. She settled against him, her weight in his arms, her warmth and her scent all a comfort to him, one that brought the reality of everything he had been through over the past few days crashing down on his shoulders. He trembled and tucked her closer to him, telling himself that she was safe now and they would never be apart again. He had no reason to fear.
He had fought for her and he had won her back.
No one would take her from him.
He turned and found himself facing a line of seven angels from different divisions. Not newly reborn. Not even from the normal ranks. These angels were the superior officers of Heaven.
Their power rose, buffeting him, but he held his ground, refusing to fall under the pressing weight of it. Marcus, Veiron and Asmodeus stood their ground outside the cell. Nevar moved to join them, each step draining him as he fought the incredible power of the angels.
He stopped in line with Asmodeus and Veiron, and stared at the seven angels. Marcus glared at one of them, a guardian angel with short sandy hair and cold dark eyes. Did they know each other?
The power they emitted weakened, the pressure on Nevar lessening.
Or was he growing stronger?
He looked down at Lysia where she lay unconscious in his arms. Shadows crawled up his biceps and under his armour, and spread over his thighs. His darker side. As it rose within him, the pressing weight of the seven angels grew weaker, until it no longer bothered him at all.
Asmodeus stepped forwards and tipped his head back, glaring down at the seven angels. Sweat dotted the brow of the one under Marcus’s scrutiny. Two more looked ready to fall to their knees.
Even in their injured and weakened states, seven of the strongest angels in Heaven were no match for them.
That knowledge filled him with strength and his power rose with it as his fear fell away. These angels were in no position to take Lysia from him. They would die if they dared to attempt it and they knew it. An angel from the division of death, in his black armour edged with gold, crashed to his knees and the man Marcus targeted with his power followed him. Pain etched deep lines on their faces as they pressed their hands into their knees and breathed hard.
Behind the seven angels, Apollyon landed on the flat top of the white hexagonal cells, his long black hair loose and flowing over his shoulders and his eyes swirling vivid blue. He furled his great obsidian wings against his back.
Einar and Lukas hit the roof behind Apollyon hard and huffed as they walked to the edge of it behind the seven angels.
“I am so out of practice,” Einar grumbled and pressed his right hand to his bleeding side. “Who knew you could forget the tricks of fighting while flying in only a few years?”
Lukas shot him a smile and raised his hand. “I did. You’ll get the knack of it again.”
“Are these angels in your way?” Apollyon turned cold blue eyes on the seven.
Two more dropped to their knees and curled over to press their hands into the white ground as Apollyon’s power rose, pressing against them from behind.
“I do not think so, but we could ask them, Brother.” Asmodeus grinned wickedly, a cruel edge to his golden gaze as he raked it over the angels. “I feel I have not had enough exercise yet today.”
Apollyon looked inclined to agree to Asmodeus’s suggestion that they take on the seven angels. Nevar stepped forwards to capture their attention and remind them why they had come to Heaven, and that attacking the angels would only lead to more bad blood between their group and this realm. As much as he desired to deal more pain to Heaven, he didn’t want to provoke this realm into coming after Lysia.
He hoped to do the opposite.
“You have no right to take her.” The sandy-haired guardian angel tried to stand.
Marcus glared at him again and he grunted as he collapsed back onto his knees.
“You are mistaken.” Nevar stared down at the male. “You are the one who had no right to take her. She is not yours to keep. She is not Hell’s to keep. She is mine to keep. I am her master.”
The angel narrowed his dark eyes on Nevar. “You are not her master anymore. You cannot control her. She must be held here.”
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 143