Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  He was a bastard.

  “If Ariel’s not the next despot in waiting, why the Gestapo methods?” I blinked through the haze that’d crept up on me; my skin felt too tight. Dying was a bitch. “You wept over Mischief. Are you just going to watch my heart go BOOM?”

  Gabriel drew back, whilst Quinn’s eyes widened and fiery reds shot in blistering sprays from his fingertips.

  “He wouldn’t lie…” Gabriel denied, even whilst he stumbled to his feet.

  I let out a breath that I hadn’t known I’d been holding: Gabriel hadn’t been in on the Murder Violet Plan. Despite my impending death, the ache that’d been worming at my heart eased.

  “Uncle,” Gabriel hollered, and Mr Swirly Eyes was back because he was pissed, “you told me that she was merely paralyzed. By my feathers, give her the antivenom.”

  Ariel barked with laugher. “What little birdie’s been whispering into the bitch’s ear? The seeded can’t be trusted; Jahael’s bred inside them.”

  Gabriel spread his wings in flaming arcs. “The antivenom.”

  “Are you threatening me, lad?”

  Gabriel shuddered, slowly lowering his wings, before he shook his head.

  Ariel stalked closer. “Good, because I wouldn’t like to have to remind you again that you’re Firstborn to Jahael but Rachiel will have that honor to me after the revolution.” Rachiel smirked, and Gabriel stared carefully at the ground. Gabriel was prepared to throw away his Crown? Hell, he truly was like me. “If the insolent and impure girl truly matters to you, then tell me what you’d do to save her.”

  Gabriel didn’t hesitate. “On my oath: anything.”

  It was the same oath that Gabriel had promised his dad to save Mischief. Why had I doubted his love or sacrifice?

  Ariel grinned, stroking his neat beard. “You’ll know when I call on your word.”

  Ariel strode to my side, slipping a vial out of his pocket, but I couldn’t see where he dipped to my shoulder, only suddenly that feeling in a dizzying and agonizing rush spread through my limbs, along with the questing tendrils of his cold magic, restoring life.

  I shuddered, cringing from his freezing touch as it kickstarted my body and drew out the venom. At last, he pulled me to my knees, then staggering to my feet. I swayed, and he held onto my elbow.

  That was one hell of a headrush.

  “I guess that you need this one to pass the Test by Monster.” Ariel shook me for good measure; I slammed my hand over my mouth to stop myself puking. “One trophy coming up.”

  He yanked me over to the arena. Woozy, I stumbled, slipping down the smooth sides like a slide at the playground at his push.

  Then I stared up at him. That bastard couldn’t be serious…?

  I scrabbled at the sides of the arena, but they were too smooth to climb; I wished that I still had my wings. Now I understood how bugs felt who were trapped in the bath.

  Gabriel darted after Ariel, hollering at him to let me out, but Ariel towered over him, before shooting out ice from the tips of his wings. Gabriel froze like a tortured ice statue.

  Quinn fluttered in distress above him.

  Roar.

  I froze as still as Gabriel. Then clenching my jaw, I reached for Flight, who hummed as I unsheathed her and spun around.

  Fierce yellow eyes scrutinized me from the shadows of a tunnel.

  Roar.

  Two sharp, long canines glinted, as the creature paced forward into the arena.

  Roar.

  The saber-toothed tiger shook its head, as it circled towards me; its powerful body was coiled to spring.

  I clutched Flight so hard that the hilt bit into my palm; weak still, my legs buckled. I caught a final glimpse of Gabriel and Quinn above me.

  Then the predator leapt.

  13

  The twang as the sharp canine, which I’d hacked from the slain saber-toothed tiger as my trophy, sank into the divan only an inch from Jahael’s head, thrilled through me: who was the predator now, bitches?

  It silenced the holy, holy, holies mid-adoration from the kneeling Acolytes, shocked Anael into stillness as he curled big-cat like on Jahael’s lap, and stole the Emperor’s breath.

  Now he knew what it bastard felt like.

  I’d fought and killed a monster out on the Bone Plains. Yet now I’d returned to face the true monster who’d been the shadow across our lives all along. And I couldn’t tell my family that truth because inside this temple the omniscient bastard would hear me.

  I marched down the incense-fogged aisle of the Holy Audience Chamber in Court Three with Gabriel at my side: returning warriors this time, rather than bride and groom with the dead body of our brother. Quinn soared above us like a gold and white butterfly.

  Clatter, clatter, clatter.

  My boots rang loud in the silence, and my eyes watered with the stinging incense. A furious buzzing swarm of fae bled out of the haze; no one attacked the Emperor.

  Even a new Knight of the Seraphim: like me.

  Quinn arched rainbows over the fae, but they ignored him. Quinn was their leader, but they were under Jahael’s power; I’d understood that they were bound by blood, but only now how much that enslaved them.

  Jahael chuckled, however, waving his hand. “You go, girl! A pretty gift for me?” The fae nipped at my shoulders, shepherding Gabriel closer, until he sheltered me in his wings. Jahael sighed. “Enough of working the tough bodyguards schtick; see, not a feather on my fabulous wings harmed. Stand down, soldiers.”

  The cloud of fae whined, before flitting around Quinn with bursts of emerald kissed apology, then back behind Jahael, who ushered us forward with a lazy twist of his wrist.

  Gabriel wiped away a trail of blood on my neck, before absentmindedly sucking clean his finger. Then his eyes widened, before his horrified gaze met mine.

  “I told you that your blood was special,” Jahael gloated.

  Gabriel dropped his gaze, flushing.

  I seized Gabriel’s hand, squeezing it: caught between his dad and uncle — two men at war with each other who he could never please — Gabriel had developed an Angelic Power that begged to be protected because he could never imagine that he’d be loved.

  I didn’t trust him…but maybe I could love him?

  Gabriel and I reached the base of the divan, whilst Quinn landed in the shadows to the side, silently stepping back.

  I frowned; Jahael was using two naked Acolytes — Purah and a second Acolyte whose head was bowed low and to my surprise had only two wings — as footstools; their crimson swirled backs were slicked with sweat and quivered under the pressure. “We passed your test. So, that’s one family safe from the Abyss. Two new knights in your imperial army. And one legendary unicorn shifter resurrected and no returns.”

  When the two-winged Acolyte snorted, Jahael ground his heel between his shoulder blades. I winced.

  “Bam! You’ve impressed the…robe…off me. Maybe you do have the same skills as your cutie pie brother.” Jahael stroked tenderly through Anael’s hair, before cupping his cheek. “Not exactly the same skills…” When he licked up Anael’s neck, Anael clasped onto Jahael’s shoulders, whilst his eyes smoldered, half-lidded.

  The shadows inside seethed to burst out in waves of phoenix fury and burn Jahael’s touch from my brother. Instead, I smothered them, forcing on the mask that I’d known I’d have to wear on our return.

  Jahael’s smile was wide, as he turned from Anael to the tooth sticking out of the divan. He fixed his gaze to mine as he tongued the tooth, streaking it with the rouge from his cherry lips like blood, as if it was an engorged…

  Nope, not thinking that.

  Gabriel pinked because who needed their dad putting on a show? I’d had enough of that with Lucifer.

  At last, Jahael drew back with a satisfied smack of his lips. “You’ll have what was promised.” I tensed, as he leaned forward; there was danger in the softness of his tone. “But here’s the problem, when you worship, you submit all of yourself. Seraphim fl
y on my holy grace alone. But you, sweet of my life, hide.”

  My hand inched towards Star, whilst my pulse raced. Had the bastard seen through the mask and discovered the plot?

  “Must we always waste time on a Glory?” Anael pouted. “As your Adviser, I advise that she’s of little importance. Let your son play with her.”

  Why the hell did those words sting so much?

  “My cutie pie prince,” Jahael kissed the top of Anael’s head, “do I love you because you’re innocent, beautiful, or ruthless? Your sister is everything: beginning and end and…”

  Jahael shoved Anael tumbling to the floor on top of the Acolytes, then darted to me almost before I’d seen him move. He snatched me by the back of the neck, cradling me close to his chest, as he traced down my back.

  I shivered, caught in his hold.

  “Burning in your worship, father,” Gabriel begged, “my sister comported herself with the utmost honor throughout the Test by Monster. She’s hidden nothing—”

  “Naughty boy, you wouldn’t be lying to the Fire God?” Jahael raised a manicured brow.

  Gabriel paled. “On my feathers, I know not—”

  “You’re my seeded Seraphim, Violet-darling, why would you shut me out?” Jahael’s gaze was hard.

  I jumped. This was about J?

  I fought to hide the relieved untensing of my shoulders under Jahael’s massaging fingers. “Why do you get your jollies from being a Peeping Tom?”

  When Jahael wrenched back my head by the hair, I yipped. “Hold the attitude. No seeded has ever evaded my watch. I created you; I own you.”

  Own me…? My new god-like power rose up in outraged sparks: no one owned the Dragon God.

  Silver sizzled across my skin, bursting out to blast Jahael backwards. “I won’t be your Truman Show,” my voice licked with fire, raspy and low; it smoked from my lungs. “I’ve caged the seed. And I’m in charge.”

  Jahael screamed, as fire danced across his skin, before he put it out with a sweep of his hand.

  I froze, waiting for the descent of the fae bodyguard, as well as the alarm bells and chaos at the attack on the Emperor, but Jahael merely shook his head, before clapping his hands in delight. With a shimmer, his charred skin was restored to perfection once again. “At last, the deity is in the house!”

  I juddered, still riding high on the flush of power: dangerous power. I’d made a god scream, and in that moment, I could’ve taken over worlds and rejoiced in their trembling.

  Is that how Jahael had become warped into a dictator? Would I become one too if I was tempted with my Seraphim side?

  I shook my head, as if I could deny the truth.

  Jahael only smiled slyly. “You feel it, don’t you, Violet-darling? The call to adoration? Power: it’s on your lips, ripe for kissing the world to its knees. You’re my true daughter and creation of my soul.” His eyes became cold, as he glanced at Gabriel. “You should be taking notes on your sister’s divaliciousness, or else you won’t long be the Firstborn.”

  Don’t do that to Gabriel, not in front of everyone, please…

  Gabriel stepped towards Jahael, even though he shook. “Father, tell me how I could better please you?”

  Jahael cocked his head, before reaching down to drag Anael to his feet and placing a kiss to his nose in apology. “Even when you succeed, Gabriel, there’s always someone who succeeds just that little bit better than you.”

  I winced; how had my triumph, ended up as Gabriel’s shame?

  Gabriel hunched his shoulders; his eyes gleamed wet, as he refused to meet my gaze.

  I didn’t bastard blame him. Now I truly was in line for the Crown because I hadn’t been able to control the forces inside.

  Rebel would be ashamed of me.

  Jahael kicked the naked two-winged Acolyte, who was smeared in red whorls; the Acolyte groaned. “I’ve been training up this bastard for the last three days; take him as your personal Acolyte. Your hoochie mama ass needs to learn to be worshiped.”

  The Acolyte crawled to my feet. At last, he raised his head, and I saw his face.

  Mischief: bruised, exhausted, and pissed off. But alive and now mine. What Jahael would never understand, however, was that I didn’t desire my blokes’ worship, only their love.

  Even if we’d have to play pretend to survive.

  “And now I feel bad because I’ve nothing to give you,” I smirked.

  Jahael waved his hand. “Of course you do: you’re a Knight of the Seraphim now. You can give me your service.”

  “I’m sketchy here on the details.”

  “You relish collecting pretty things, like me, so you can guard my Beloveds along with Gabriel. I’m appointing Quinn as sponsor to you both; if you fail, he’ll suffer.” Jahael resettled himself on the divan, planting his feet onto Purah’s back again; Gabriel flinched on Purah’s groan.

  I took a careful breath to control my rapid heartbeat: Rebel was trapped in the Forbidden Court with the Beloveds, one of the pretty things that I’d be guarding. Finally, I’d have my chance to see him and work out how to rescue him.

  What had been done to Rebel in all this time as Jahael’s toy, under Istafil’s control?

  Jahael clucked his tongue, as if my hitched breath had been reluctance. “Accept who you are — and the delectable love of others in their service — and you’ll be a true god, rather than a monster hiding in the shadows.”

  I nodded.

  Yet Jahael was the monster, and if I let in the true god side of my nature and sought worship, rather than love, I’d also become monstrous.

  Rainbow snakes of water sprayed out of the pool beside the Acolytes’ Training Pavilion at each whack of my palm. Firebird giggled, diving beneath my attack, which changed color at each splash and swipe.

  Skinny dipping in the Fire God’s Holy Pool at night, underneath the huge domed roof, was the first fun that I’d experienced, since I’d been trapped in this realm.

  If I was a god, then this was how I bitching received worship.

  Firebird’s amber eyes peeked over the skin of the pool, as he crocodile stalked me; his hair had started to grow in, after its mandatory buzz cut at his resurrection as a Phoenix. I longed to rub my hand over it to reassure myself that Quinn had allowed him that at least: the return to his old identity, even if he couldn’t remember it.

  That once he’d been Nathanael, Mischief’s angelic little brother.

  Instead, I allowed him to play our game in the final hour before my first shift working in the Forbidden Court. He circled me in the water, whilst the chants of holy, holy, holy, floated like incense-laced nursery rhymes from the wooden arches of the Pavilion, which towered in gilded spires.

  Suddenly, Firebird dived. Then arms were wrapped around my waist, and I was launched high out of the water, gasping and spluttering with laughter. Firebird’s golden wings wrapped around me, as he spun me above the pool.

  Focusing, I concentrated on our connection, thrumming with joy as crimson tendrils spread between us and in the blood that we shared: The bond between Phoenix and the Lazarus Mage who’d raised him.

  “Are you picking up my frequency?” I sang telepathically.

  Firebird wrapped his wings tighter. “I can hear you, my Feathers.” His voice — as soft as I remembered it and as achingly similar to Mischief’s, yet steeled with a new strength as well — wound into my mind like it’d always been there. Like it was always meant to be. “I feared that I’d never hear you again. I missed you very much.”

  My throat was dry. “You’re my epic Firebird. I’d never abandon you. You know that, yeah?”

  Firebird gave a hesitant nod, before lowering us into the water, which changed to a swirling gold and violet.

  I drew back, grasping his chin and tilting his head to force him to meet my gaze. “You’re fam, and that means I’ll always have your back, like you’ll have mine.”

  This time, Firebird’s nod was more confident.

  “Did those freaky arsed fae hurt yo
u? Do I need to go spank the Chief Knight?”

  Firebird’s leonine eyes widened, as he clutched at his own arse like I’d threatened to bend him over my knee. “Please, Quinn protected me from the bad gods. He’s…the one who’s hurt.” I blinked the water out of my eyes. Why did that roil something in my guts: the idea of such a wild warrior hurt by the decadent Seraphim? “He tries to shield it, but he’s as melancholy as the Defender.”

  Firebird tipped his head towards Mischief, who sat with his arms around his knees on the edge of the pool guarding our clothes. He was dressed only in a pair of bejeweled leather trousers that belonged to Gabriel because no Acolyte of mine was parading around naked; the trousers were too large and hung off Mischief’s hips. When I’d suggested stripping for a swim, he’d refused because he wasn’t a teenager, drunk, or suffering from a midlife crisis.

  Yeah, buzzkill.

  Yet he watched us with such bittersweet longing because Firebird was his brother, who could no longer remember him as anything more than the Defender of his kind.

  Melancholy? I’d be bastard sad too.

  When a wicked grin stole across my face, Firebird shuddered, experiencing my emotions across the bond. The same mischievous grin widened his mouth. Then Firebird and I launched ourselves towards the edge of the pool…and Mischief.

  Mischief gaped, before he scrambled back. But not quickly enough.

  Firebird snatched one of Mischief’s ankles, and I snatched the other; together, we heaved.

  Splash.

  Mischief tumbled into the pool with a flutter of wings and hiss of outrage. “You foul rascals…”

  Firebird and I howled with laughter.

  Hell, how had I gone so long without…this?

  Mischief stood up, dripping wet. “Oh, how delightful, you insufferable fiends think to join forces against me?”

  Gabriel and I edged closer together, before we nodded.

  “I believe that the words you’re searching for are,” Mischief sniggered, “game on.”

  Underneath the pool’s surface, Mischief circled his hands, until the water glowed. Distracted, I didn’t notice his scaled merman tail, until it’d wound out and caught me around the waist, dragging me into Mischief’s embrace, even as silvered seaweed tendrils entangled Firebird.