Soul Betrayer (Ubiquity, #2)

by Lindt, Allyson

  Great. Now Holden had gone all movie super villain. Izzy could almost taste his disdain every time he mentioned Abaddon. Did she have any idea Holden had used her as much as he had Izzy? And why was she working for him? She was a powerful assassin; there was no way she’d been reduced to Mortal’s Errand Girl.

  “You know this is bordering on sounding insane,” Izzy said.

  Holden raised his brows. “Really? Why did you want all the books about prophets, then? What was your ultimate purpose? You wouldn’t have used me to find yourself a new link to immortality?”

  The idea of using him for such a thing made Izzy furious. “I never—”

  “Or, if you’re going to parry my question again, tell me this instead. Who was there for you when you were in the hospital? Even though some psychotic little immortal put you there—someone like Abaddon—I was the one who came to visit.”

  Ronnie and Irdu were there whenever they could find time. “I’m not interested in extending my life at the cost of someone else’s existence or sanity.”

  “Are you sure? You hate what you’ve become. Weak. Capable of feeling pain. Taking forever to heal.” His voice was passion mixed with madness. “You felt the rush when Tiamet touched you. You dove into the energy headfirst. You’d really surrender immortality because someone else, who wouldn’t think twice about destroying you, might be unhappy afterward?”

  Izzy wouldn’t—couldn’t—betray those who had been by his side for eons. Holden was asking him to pick between immortality and loyalty. It was an easy decision. The answer should have flown from Izzy’s throat before Holden finished. He had one thing right though.

  Izzy hated himself for thinking it. He was far more tempted by the possibilities than he should be. He liked the rush of Tia’s touch. The energy she’d shared. And he missed having that feeling full time.

  That didn’t mean Izzy could fathom torturing and possibly killing anyone for power. Angel, demon, human—none of them deserved to suffer because he wanted the best of both worlds.

  Before he could process an answer, a series of explosions tore through the air. Four concussions shook the ground. His eardrums rang in response, and he struggled to keep his balance as the floor rolled under him.

  Chapter Nine

  Ronnie leaned back in her chair. Ubiquity was the last place she wanted to be in the middle of the night. First choice would be in Tia and Izzy’s place, with them safe at home and her kicking the ass of whoever took them.

  Her second pick was going door-to-door, to every single door in the world, until she found their auras or something that could block her from seeing such a thing.

  They were here because Irdu pointed out Ubiquity had the resources and connections to search the world from a single spot instead. That was about the only thing he’d said to her, beyond grunts and monosyllabic instructions, since they left the apartments where Tia was staying.

  He’d adjusted the cherub algorithms and tightened them to look for specific indicators. Mostly, large electrical storms that could indicate Abaddon was in an area.

  Lucifer had been no help. His response was to blame Gabriel. Maybe he’s trying to plug holes, Lucifer said. Izzy’s a loose end. A mortal who knows how to achieve immortality.

  Ronnie was fighting off flashbacks of the night Ari ripped Izzy’s cherub from him, and almost killed him in the process. The memory of Ariel’s betrayal notched Ronnie’s anxiety higher. A friend who lied to get what she needed. Who tried to kill Ronnie in the process. Had she just done the same to Izzy to further Lucifer’s plans?

  If so, Irdu was right to be furious with her. But she hadn’t done any of that consciously. And Tia was there of her own free will.

  “Damn it,” she screamed into the empty air.

  Irdu glared at her, then turned back to his laptop. He was sitting at the small conference table in her office, as far away from her as possible. They’d done a lot of things on that table. She didn’t know how she’d cope if breaking up was added to the list.

  Things were supposed to be better now that she’d assumed her place as an original. She was one of the four most powerful angels in existence. Created before all others. Top tier. And through it all, she felt more powerless than ever. She couldn’t even build a ward that could keep another angel from crashing through it.

  She could save the tumble into self-pity until after she knew Izzy and Tia were all right. Sick dread slid under her skin at the thought of something bad happening to them.

  Being in charge wasn’t this stressful three-thousand years ago.

  The minutes bled into hours, and she was no closer to answers. The clack of Irdu’s fingers on the keyboard drilled into her thoughts. A constant reminder of the lack of communication.

  She could go after Gabriel if she knew where he was. That didn’t guarantee he had or would give her any information. And it wasn’t as though agents come with a built-in homing device.

  Freak lightning storms as a search term would have to do. In a different program, she had the system scanning for isolated floods. As in, a city block or two, when there was no rain. Maybe if Tia had tried to help again...

  Her computer chimed. Another hit on the flood query. She tried to grasp at hope, but a night of disappointment and dead ends made it difficult.

  A SERIES OF GUNSHOTS punctuated with screams rattled Izzy’s nerves.

  “What the hell?” Holden was on his feet in an instant and running toward the door.

  It all stopped before Holden reached the exit, and an eerie silence settled.

  Izzy’s heart hammered in his chest, his pulse racing with unanswered questions. Who was hurt? What did he need to do to get as many people and angels out as quickly as possible—

  The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it. Abaddon really seemed to like that as an entrance. She stood there with Tia.

  Abaddon growled. “Let’s see how you like it.”

  Holden’s feet lifted off the air as an unseen force threw him back. He slammed into the far wall with a grunt and slid to the floor.

  Izzy didn’t know which way to run. Toward Abaddon to stop her—not that he could—or toward Holden to see if he was all right. Part of Izzy wanted him to suffer endlessly for his betrayal. If Izzy let violence justify more of the same, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. There were other punishments for Holden, and losing access to immortality would be one of the worst for him.

  Something flashed past Izzy, bright and white like a miniature bolt of lightning. Holden’s scream seemed to shake every inch of the building, a sound more horrific than the entirety of the last few seconds combined. His right arm fell limply to his side, and dark red blood seeped through his shirt near his shoulder.

  Izzy rushed Abaddon. She held a hand up, and he slammed into an invisible wall. Electricity crackled over every inch of his skin.

  “Izrafel.” Her voice was hard, but something wavered in her eyes. “Please don’t do this.”

  He pushed against the barrier she’d created, probing for a weakness. She couldn’t maintain the wall for long. “What did you do?” he asked more to distract her than because he thought she’d answer.

  “Weren’t you paying attention? I gave him a taste of his own medicine. Turns out he gives better than he receives.” She stepped aside so Izzy could see Tia. The demon’s arm was healed, and the color had returned to her face.

  “Fucking bitch, I’ll kill you.” Holden’s words were strained. Izzy turned long enough to see him struggle to stand, but his right arm was still useless, and the blood flowed freely now.

  “You’re welcome to try.” Abaddon snapped her fingers and the bracelets on Tia’s wrists fell away. “Not that it’s necessary at this point.” Abaddon’s gaze never left Izzy’s. A slight smile played on her face, making ice join the heat of rage in his veins. “The explosions just now? The generators are gone. What I’m doing with you is a show.” She stepped closer. “A show for you, Izrafel.”

  Izzy’s gut twisted in
on itself. The screams and the fact they’d stopped so quickly probably meant anyone human was dead. So much death. For what? “Why?”

  “Do you know why I have a problem with what Ariel did?” Abaddon might as well have been discussing bad weather.

  Holden needed medical attention. Even if he was borderline psychotic, he didn’t deserve to be tortured. Izzy wasn’t surprised, but was grateful, Abaddon had rescued Tia and whoever else was here. He understood her reasons for killing their captors. He didn’t fault her for the rapid executions, though lingering on the details would make him ill.

  However, it devoured him to know what the humans surrendered their lives for. It was their choice to make, but he didn’t understand how stealing someone else’s existence to further their own made sense. Then again, fanaticism had always baffled Izzy.

  “You mean besides the fact she blew up half the city?” Izzy asked.

  Abaddon’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not insane like she was, if that’s what you’re implying. Her biggest problem is she grew an ego. She thought she knew better than Gabriel. That she deserved more than she was given. She was too young to think big and spilled our secrets to every camera, phone, and computer within the city limits.”

  Abaddon gestured around her, not pointing to anything specific. “This is what happens when you let humanity think for themselves. This is the chaos it brings, and this is only the tip of the iceberg. You were stupid to become one of them, but because you were created as one of us, because you and I have a history, I’m giving you one chance.

  “You’re only here to see what they’ve done. Because you’re one of the few who can help them, and this is your one warning to stay out of things. They’ll destroy every agent of heaven and hell if they can. And we’re your true brothers and sisters, regardless of where we came from. Lucifer doesn’t understand this is what anarchy truly is.”

  Abaddon’s voice was cold. “Yes, I still answer to Gabriel. He has plans, and the world will burn if it doesn’t submit. I will track down any mortal who thinks they deserve to stand as our equal and show them their place.”

  The air around Izzy weakened, and he stumbled forward. The invisible wall was gone. He rushed forward. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but tackling Abaddon was a good starting place.

  Her eyes grew wide, and time seemed to slow.

  “She’s got one.” Holden’s rough reminder became part of Izzy’s plan before he could process what Holden meant.

  Instead of tackling Abaddon, Izzy lunged for her bare wrists, the hint of flesh exposed between sleeve and glove, and grabbed tight.

  Skin met skin, and eons of training rushed back. What angels and demons did with cherubs—taking them in, and then exorcising them and sending them back home—didn’t require power. If it had, none of the fallen would be able to do it. It was just knowledge, and Izzy had that. He let instinct drive and visualized in his mind the cherub she had wrapped around her. He mentally yanked for all he was worth.

  If Izzy thought Holden’s scream was painful, Abaddon’s sounded like it might peel the soul from the core of the earth. He grabbed harder, despite her attempts to shake him off. The foreign power flowed into him, filling every inch of his thoughts and being. He stumbled back as a flood of emotion that wasn’t his rocketed through his skull.

  He expected a separate voice in his head, similar to what Ronnie described when Uriel and Metatron had shared a body. Instead he felt all of Abaddon’s hatred and jealousy. He stumbled and sank to his knees at the wash of unfamiliar venom.

  All of her emotion was there though, not just the negative. Her passion for her job. Her knowledge that what she was doing was right. It filled him, whispering to his thoughts. And it was incredible. Power he hadn’t touched in ages—so much stronger than the cherub he had after he fell—sealed the cracks of his doubt. This was what he’d been missing. Abaddon was right. Humanity didn’t deserve this gift.

  No. That thought wasn’t Izzy’s.

  But it had a point. The whisper of emotion spoke to every doubt he’d suppressed over the past day. Had it really only been a day? It didn’t matter. Linear time was a stupid, primitive way to measure reality.

  It wouldn’t take much to make this feeling his forever. He knew how to integrate. He could be whole again. Immortal. Powerful. He could have everything He wanted with just a few focused thoughts. Gabriel would take him in. Izzy would apologize for the folly of wanting mortality. Tell Gabriel how much of a mistake it was to fall. Then serve, as he was meant to do.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Izzy saw Abaddon struggling too. She’d collapsed, her breathing heavy. He needed to help her. She was his sister. Why did he hurt her?

  No.

  The single syllable echoed in his skull, in his own voice.

  Those thoughts aren’t yours.

  These compulsions were Abaddon—her influence and emotions. Izzy shoved the drive for destruction and control aside.

  Tia rushed past him, in Holden’s direction. Izzy grabbed every ounce of strength to push to his feet. Concern for the safety of everyone else in the building helped him ground himself. He didn’t know if Tia was going to hurt or help Holden, but he couldn’t take that chance.

  Izzy’s thoughts echoed that Holden didn’t matter. Izzy stumbled, and panic filled him as Tia reached Holden’s side.

  Tia rested a palm on the side of Holden’s face. Izzy saw the fractured flow of blue between them. The energy she trickled into Holden. She was helping. It was as if Izzy had been blind for the last several months.

  Holden had kidnapped her, bound her, and drained her of her energy, and she was trying to ease his pain. It made Izzy smile with sadness to see her blind compassion.

  Abaddon’s roar dragged his attention back to the immediate threat. The power flowing through him was incredible. He needed to keep it. To integrate it. Which meant keeping Abaddon’s hands off him.

  Don’t.

  The tiny whisper was Izzy. But it was wrong. He wasn’t going to go back to Gabriel, but he needed to keep this power. Didn’t he? Confusion rocked in his skull. He didn’t know which thoughts were his, and which belonged to the cherub.

  Abaddon lunged, and Izzy hopped aside. Yellow flowed and raced around her, a vibrant aura. She was so powerful, even without the extra help. He needed to figure out a way to get out of here without her touching him. Without her following.

  Considering his T-shirt left his arms bare, preventing her from making skin on skin contact seemed as impossible as hoping she’d give up. She tightened her stance and kicked at his legs. He rolled, came up behind her, and swung at her head. She had already moved and spun to face him.

  Each time she jabbed, he parried, ducked, or dodged. She matched him strike for strike. It was more intense than anything he’d done in centuries. Abaddon was at least Ronnie’s equal, and since she’d been around non-stop for the last several thousand years, far more practiced. But at the same time, Izzy had her cherub, a part of her. If he let his instinct drive his limbs, his muscle memory knew what came next. He just had to not think about it too much.

  The rush was incredible. He wanted this. Needed it.

  I need my humanity.

  No. This was what he was made for, this kind of power.

  “Izzy.” Tia’s panic cut into his enjoyment of the fight. “I can’t make this better. I can only slow it down. He needs a hospital.”

  Holden.

  No. Holden betrayed Izzy. Lied to him. Used him.

  Adored me. Showed me affection. Loved me for who I am.

  The words, Izzy’s thoughts, hit him hard, and he stumbled. The emotion dragged back his memories of all the moments he and Holden shared. Of everything he enjoyed about humanity. He slid around a feint and blocked Abaddon’s strike to his gut.

  If Izzy kept this cherub, if he yielded to this power, he’d surrender everything he worked for in the year since he lost his last link to immortality. But it felt so good.

  Not as good as what I had aft
er I fell.

  It was true. Izzy made this decision a century ago. Mortality, humanity, that was what he wanted. He ducked a flying kick, closed his eyes, and muttered the brief words needed to exorcise the cherub.

  “Fucking bastard.” Abaddon’s yell shook the walls. “How dare you?”

  She’d seen the light leave him. Maybe he should have resolved this situation before he exorcised the cherub. He dropped to his knees, no strength left. She was going to kill him and most likely Holden and Tia. Sending the cherub back was the right decision, but doing it so quickly was stupid in retrospect.

  Except he could think now, which meant the extra voice was gone. And that Abaddon hadn’t severed his head from his shoulders.

  He looked up to find her watching him, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched.

  The corner of her mouth pulled up, and his blood froze in his veins. Her voice was low and cool. “I can do the same to you.”

  Take his cherub? The threat almost made Izzy laugh. “Ariel already did.”

  Her chilling smirk grew, and she raised her hand in Holden’s direction. Izzy didn’t have time to move before Holden slumped forward with a soft, “Oof.”

  “He’s not breathing.” Panic filled Tia’s voice. “He’s not ... What do I do?”

  Shit, no. Izzy’s clenched his fists and jumped to his feet.

  “Goodbye, Izrafel.” Abaddon vanished from the room.

  A giant lump grew in his throat, spreading to his chest. He was by Holden’s side in an instant, laying him down. Izzy pumped his chest, trying to ignore the mounting panic. Izzy hated Holden for his part in all of this. But part of Izzy still loved the Holden in his memories and loathed any senseless death, even if Holden brought it on himself.

  Izzy performed the motions of CPR over and over. He wouldn’t give into despair. Holden would come back.

  “Izzy.” Tia wrapped a hand around his arm. Izzy tried to shake her off, but her grip was tight. “We need to leave.”

  “We need to help him.” Speaking gave the hopelessness something to cling to. It pounded in his joints, and he sank back on my haunches.