Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  Find the weakness and shank sharp. A gentle touch hurt harem angel worse than any torture.

  “My sister’s missing and other Hackney kids. They could be in your world. I need an angel to take me there.” When I ran my fingers to the tips of Drake’s wings, pulling them away from his body and exposing him, Drake shuddered. “You’re the only other angel I know.” He arched away from me; his dick pulsed pretty and hard. Yet he refused to look at me, as if I was an enemy interrogator, glowering over my shoulder instead. “I tried to fit in here but I don’t know who to trust. All I know is my sister’s gone.” He glanced at me in surprise. “You have permission to speak.”

  “Has Zachriel abandoned you? He excels at that.”

  I dug my nails into the tips of Drake’s wings, and he howled.

  A gang of lads circled on bikes at the entrance to the alley like sharks scenting blood. I shoved Drake down behind the stinking black bins, pressing my arm across his slender throat.

  Drake lay in the shallow puddle, shivering: he wouldn’t hurt me, even when I hurt him. But why not? I craved to soothe him, rather than maintain the act, but when I stared into his cool gaze, I remembered that he’d been Rebel’s gaoler for forty years.

  That he was the angel hunting Rebel.

  I stroked Drake’s damp curls out of his face with an exaggerated tenderness that made him flinch. “So, were you thrashed because you went psycho on Rebel or because you didn’t bring him back to Angel World?”

  “Does there need to be a reason?” Drake shrugged his slight shoulders. “If you desire…” He took a deep breath, steadying himself, “…I am yours.” I reared back, studying him. He only continued with an uncomfortable earnestness, “You don’t belong amongst these humans. There’s a whole world waiting for you.”

  “You’re mine?”

  Drake’s gaze was understanding; it shook me. “You may have me, if you return now to Angel World. Isn’t that what you called me for? You allowed me back into your mind, and I glimpsed… I’ll search for your sister, if you aid me in the Addict hunt.”

  I pushed back from Drake. I’d been tempted, if only for a moment, by the pull to possess the pretty angel. Yet I’d never betray Rebel in order to have Drake. I couldn’t help the urge to own them both. “That’s where you lost me. I’ll burn your head from your shoulders before—”

  Drake’s mouth twisted. “Be calm. Would you prefer Zachriel Falls? Because unless we save him, he will.”

  I growled, wrenching his head to the side by the curls.

  Why did the violet curling through me, entwine to Drake’s? I was electrified by his promise of a new world of angels.

  Somewhere I belonged.

  “You need to accept who you are,” Drake murmured. “You’re important. Special. Powerful. As much as I may hate it…”

  I kissed his fluttering neck. Then I licked the raindrops, as they fled quivering down his chest. “You may hate that it’s true, bitch, but you’re mine.”

  When I bit Drake’s nipple, he tasted of frankincense. He groaned, even though his body vibrated with repressed fury.

  The control ignited by his words… Important. Special. Powerful… flooded me in violet hallelujahs, chorusing me to the heavens. I was high on the dominance, after weeks of fear and helplessness.

  Rebel had rejected me, when I’d pinned him down like this. Rebel had said no: not until I loved him.

  Yet Drake was straining to lie still, as I stroked the back of his neck in teasing circles. When I forced his mouth open, stabbing my tongue inside, his eyes shuttered to a studied blankness.

  I knew that look: I’d used it myself to escape the abuser who worked at Jerusalem Children’s Home. Jade had worn it for years.

  Yet Drake didn’t stop me or say a word.

  Why the hell was it so important that I agreed to go with him that he’d sell himself? Like ice water, Drake’s blank look cooled the high. I pushed away, before crouching next to him.

  Slowly, Drake pushed himself up, hugging his arms around his knees. He avoided my gaze. “I can try harder,” he said softly, “to make you want me.”

  “Not the problem, bro,” I touched his pale knee gently, until he glanced up. “The thing is, you don’t want me. At least, not like this.”

  Confused, Drake shook his head. “Irrelevant.”

  “Not if you’re a harem boy, but yeah, if you’re my partner.”

  “Maybe you are different.” Drake ran his hand through his curls. “But if we’re to return—”

  “The deals off. You don’t bring out the best side of me. And offering to be my slave clued me in that you don’t come from the land of unicorns. Trust is a bitch, and your Angel World has lost mine.”

  Drake surged up, prey to predator in a heartbeat, whilst his wings outstretched in pulsating glory.

  Hell, why had I ever reckoned that I could control the Commander?

  I stumbled to my feet, fumbling for Star with fingers made clumsy by the cold.

  “I believe you to be the bitch.” Drake backed me against the brick wall, boxing me in. “And payback to be one as well.”

  “Hey, sexy.” Ash strolled from the shadows of the alley’s entrance in his red military coat.

  The scape of his fangs… Light touches to my neck… Pleasure buzzing through me…

  “Don’t call me sexy.” But when my gaze met Ash’s, I couldn’t help the grin.

  Ash smirked, looking Drake up and down. “I wasn’t talking to you, Violet. Although for the record? You are sexy.”

  Drake staggered back, blushing and shielding himself with his wings. “Impure creatures, such as you, Seducer—”

  “From what I just saw,” Ash toyed with the buttons down his coat, “you’re an easy lay yourself.” Then he sauntered past Drake, who shrank back, and placed his hands either side of my head on the wall. His shadow covered me, along with the tang of citrus cloves: I’d forgotten how tall Ash was. “I told you that I’d be seeing you again soon.” He snogged me, hard and fast, before drawing back. His charcoal-gray eyes sought mine. “Don’t choose the Ice Commander, just because you reckon he’s the only one who can help you.” He rubbed his cheek against mine like a lion; his mane of hair tangled against my skin. “You can crash with me, if you’re over the whole vampires are the Big Bads. Although, I am bad, babe.”

  I spluttered with laughter. “You’re such a geek. And decapitation with a butter knife, remember?”

  “If only I had the time.” Drake sank his thumb into the base of Ash’s neck.

  Ash stiffened with agony, before falling to his knees. His fingers curled into my thighs, as he buried his face against my stomach, fighting not to make a sound.

  “Stop it.” I blasted violet fire at Drake.

  Drake stumbled back, shaking. He wrapped his wings even tighter around himself. “You’d choose that…Fallen thing…over me?”

  I hauled Ash up next to me, linking our arms like we were lovers. “What can I say? At least the Fang knows how to kiss.”

  Drake’s blank look shattered.

  He shattered.

  For the moment before Drake vanished, I regretted the hurt in his eyes, which glittered with unshed tears. Until I remembered Rebel’s silent screams and his fear as he’d trembled in the dark box in the House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox.

  I’d shanked the Commander’s weakness sharp, but he knew it. And yeah, I had a feeling that payback would be a bitch.

  “Home? Cup of tea? Bed?” Ash grinned.

  “You’re one weird arsed Fang.” I pinched Ash’s side, and he squirmed.

  I’d chosen a vampire Brigadier over an angel Commander. Yet without Rebel in this supernatural world, I needed a guide. I was no longer blind, however, to the danger.

  Drake and Ash were both beautiful. But neither angel nor vampire were good.

  We were all monsters.

  And now a huntress, I was walking alone into the home of a Fallen. No matter how delicious the death wish thrill of his fangs at my neck, for
all I knew, Ash planned to feed on me tonight.

  23

  Vampires’ lairs were meant to be Gothic, dark, and freaky. Not geek heaven apartments with gamer pods looped with consoles, virtual reality headsets, computer monitors, pewter Princess Leia figurines, half-empty pizza boxes, and a Lara Croft poster stuck on the bedroom wall.

  I snuggled down under the soft scarlet blankets on Ash’s bed. If Ash meant to bite me, at least he’d made me comfy first. And with…everything…from the moment that the Pure had swarmed around the witches’ house crashing down on me, I was too exhausted to care if he did. Maybe I wanted Ash to, or maybe I just wanted what he was offering to be real. The first slice of normal since Rebel had fallen from the ceiling.

  I’d shucked off my jacket before climbing into bed. But I wasn’t stripping off; there was comfy and there was offering up your arse.

  Ash pottered into the bedroom with a steaming mug of Earl Grey. Flushing, he kicked a dirty sock under the bed as he handed over my tea.

  I arched my brow at Lara Croft. “I said you were a geek.”

  Ash grinned, sliding out of his military jacket and lobbing it at a chair by the wall.

  It missed.

  With a shrug, Ash stretched his wings, before sprawling next to me on the pillows. “I need somewhere to relax from all the…” His fangs shot from his teeth and he growled.

  Despite myself, I jumped, spilling my tea. “Bastard.”

  Ash laughed, before his fangs sank back into his gums. “No worries, I’m not the bite and fight type.”

  When I studied him, brushing his tumble of jet hair away from his long olive neck, I wondered whether I could allow myself to believe that was true. At the same time, I quivered with the coiling urge to bite…taste…him.

  I slurped the hot Earl Grey: black and strong. It warmed me, when I’d been frozen for days. “And where are your little Fang friends?” I asked carefully.

  Ash’s smile faded. He twisted away, pulling off his boots. “Not here. After all, you’re a hunter. It’d be like bringing Buffy to Spike...but then they ended up screwing each other…”

  I snorted.

  Ash shrugged. “What? I can’t do ironic human pop culture?”

  I struggled to hide my smile. “Tell me this then, do all you Fangs live in wealthy arsed apartments?”

  “Only if we work.”

  When Ash took my empty mug and tucked the blankets around me, I tensed. Once, I’d been sick with the flu, and Gizem had tucked the covers around me in just the same way but only when she’d reckoned I was sleeping because she had a reputation to keep.

  Why did that one small gesture matter?

  Ash drew back. “Bed? That’s yours. Couch? That’s for the sexy Fallen Angel, who’ll be whining about a bad back in the morning.”

  “A bed without chains is a luxury.”

  He shook his head. “I always knew it about the crazy retro bastard. Angels are kinky underneath.”

  I sniggered but then clutched the blankets tighter. My mouth was dry at the memory of waking to thick carpet underneath my knees, the light of a chandelier, and suffocating warmth. “The Pure didn’t even have a bed. They just got with the chopping. The only one who had my back was Anarchy.”

  “Anarchy?” Ash towered above me; his wings were like a stormy sky. “Where is he?”

  “One of your soldiers, Brigadier?”

  Ash winced. “He’s my mate, Violet. Like a kid brother.”

  Now it was my turn to wince. “You know that I said got with the chopping…?”

  Ash fell to his knees with his wings folded around himself like he was returning to a feathery womb. He keened.

  Hell, how could I’ve made him think that Anarchy had been killed? I stroked Ash’s cheek. “Not his head, wallad, his wings.”

  Ash glanced up at me through wet eyelashes. “They took his wings?”

  “Eden said that Anarchy was a rebel.” I smiled sadly. “Sorry, bro, that he’s—”

  Ash bounced up, with a grin. “Purified? He’s Anarchy. The little bastard’ll fight them until they execute him. Except, we’ll break him out tomorrow night.”

  I pushed up from the pillows. “We will?”

  “Sleep. Great escape to plan when you wake.”

  Somehow, I’d switched gangs. Rebel wouldn’t save my new mate, but his enemy would. I forced myself not to think of the way Rebel’s wings had drooped in the cemetery when he’d stopped even defending himself against Ash.

  I grabbed Ash’s hand, before he could saunter out. “You can’t plan with a bad back.”

  “Napoleon lost the whole Russian campaign because of a dodgy back.” Ash slunk over me, climbing under the covers without undressing.

  When I turned on my side, Ash’s velvety feathers curled around me like a second bed. He sighed, his breathing soft and safe, against my neck. I tensed but then relaxed. Neither halves of my nature roared danger at the closeness of his fangs. Instead, they hummed in tired contentment. Slowly, Ash’s hands settled around my waist.

  “Russian campaign?” I traced patterns across the back of Ash’s hand. “I thought that you knew nothing about fighting, Brigadier?”

  For a moment, Ash’s breathing hitched, before it steadied. “I used to,” he murmured, “but not anymore. There are different ways a bloke can win a war than with a sword.”

  So, this is your choice? Black, not violet? Bones, rather than feathers?

  I’m not making a choice, just resting.

  You better hope that it’s not eternal rest. At least you could try out the whore’s dick. You don’t want to waste a Seducer—

  I’m not that kind of bitch now. Not since—

  A couple of hours ago with the angel Commander?

  You saw how I hurt Drake. I’m not doing that again.

  You keep telling yourself that.

  And what’s so special about a Seducer?

  You’ll see.

  I buried into the warmth of Ash’s aromatic wings, as the dark rose and covered us, and I closed my eyes.

  When I opened them, kisses were feathering along my shoulder blades, until they tingled. I shivered. Still half-asleep, I licked my lips.

  A small hand stroked my thigh through my jeans in hesitant circles. Then violet wings…

  Violet?

  Flames crackled in an instinctive rush of outraged fear, as I elbowed the intruder.

  Drake tumbled in a hissing, burned tangle onto the floor. Suddenly wide awake, I scooted up on the bed, pulling the blankets over me.

  Where the hell had I dropped Star last night?

  When Drake pulled himself to his feet, holding up his trousers carefully, I shot out of the bed. “Is this your pay back?”

  Drake eyed me coldly. “Calm yourself. You’re still sleeping with your vampire whore.”

  I whirled around.

  The bed was empty.

  If this was real, what had Drake done to Ash? And if it wasn’t…and Drake was messing with my mind…?

  I took a step towards Drake. “Next time you come playing in my head, you don’t touch without permission. And you don’t turn up without an invite.”

  He rolled his eyes. “As you wish. But I’m here because I’ve found your sister.”

  My legs buckled; I slumped onto the bed. “Where?”

  Drake smiled with sudden innocence. He held out his hand to me. His fingers were mangled, as if they’d been broken one at a time. I hadn’t done that. “If you come with me now to Angel World, I’ll take you to her.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “Please…”

  It’d been so many weeks since Jade had disappeared. Every day I’d imagined finding her, and the way that she’d flick her pink-and-black fringe as she beamed. I battled not to think about what was happening to her, only that one moment when she saw me…saving her.

  I reached out to take Drake’s hand but then I noticed that his broken hand was shaking.

  I drew back. “I’ll pass on the poisoned apple, cheers.”r />
  Drake stared at me, before tossing his golden curls. “I assure you, what happens next...? I didn’t choose it. Watch.”

  Suddenly, Ash was sprawled across the bed.

  But his wings…

  I gasped.

  Blood dripped onto the blankets. Scarlet from Ash’s outstretched wings stained the floor. Mutilated, the feathers had been plucked or carved out.

  My eyes burning with tears, I clutched Ash’s maimed shoulders, but my fingers clawed through air. I blinked at the bed that was unexpectedly empty again.

  Drake shrugged one lash streaked shoulder. “I’m only playing, am I not? I apologize for the lack of invitation.”

  Rebel, his head bowed, prostrated himself before me…and his wings were nothing but burnt stumps.

  Furious, I twirled to Drake. “Stop your little show of horrors. This bitch doesn’t do threats.”

  “This isn’t a threat.” Drake waved his broken hand, and Rebel vanished. “This is a possible future path if you don’t come with me now.”

  “I’m not buying what you sell.”

  “Your choice.” Drake draped himself over the bed like a cherub sacrificial on a vampire’s altar. “But you only have two nights. After that?” His violet eyes were ice cold. I remembered the cruel way that I’d shattered him. Shanking an angel Commander was a dangerous move. “I kill your sister.”

  I froze.

  The image of Jade appeared: her pale face on the pillow with her hair framing it in an Emo riot. Her eyes were closed, as if she was sleeping. She wore one of my baggy black t-shirts and a pair of shorts that matched her hair.

  Drake kissed her.

  I slammed forward, wringing the blanket like it was Drake’s neck.

  Not real, not real, not real…

  Drake wound his hand into Jade’s hair, watching me over her head, waiting for the fireworks. “Your sister believes that I can kiss,” he said quietly.

  “You didn’t even wake her, Prince Charming. And if you ever touch her for real…? I’ll rip off your bollocks,” I snarled.

  “Yet you chose not to save her.” Drake shoved Jade out of the bed at my feet.

  Not real…not real…just playing with my mind…

  I couldn’t stop myself. I crouched over Jade.