Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

  Crack — I groaned at the harsh blow to my spine.

  The wind died.

  At last, I glanced up. My mouth was dry and tasted of ash; my hair smoked like I’d been barbecued. I pushed my hand onto the altar to balance as I stood up, then doubled over with a shriek; I cradled my hand to my chest in shock.

  The palm had been branded with a map: The Burning Temple in the middle, whilst an altar stood out in the Bone Plains, which had been marked like X on a treasure map. When the brand started to fade on my palm, I memorized it before it could disappear.

  A metallic flash…

  I gasped, rolling to the side, as a double headed battle-ax sliced down. Flames wound up the weapon’s silver haft and ornate crescent head. Nobody held the Silver Ax, unless the attacker was invisible. Instead, Silver Ax quivered in the air: one warrior squaring off against another.

  He swung in the universal gesture for: Come on then.

  This is what I needed to conquer Jahael? An ax with attitude?

  Yet my magic reached out in desperate awe-stricken tendrils towards Silver Ax. I shook with the hunger to hold him in my palm, where he’d fit…had always fitted…where he’d been waiting for me to seize, claim, and wield him…

  I took a steadying breath, before stepping forward, but Silver Ax dodged backwards tittering: flames burst from his haft, blasting me backwards.

  I fell over the bone altar, catching myself on the edge.

  The bastard would pay for that.

  Silver Ax soared up into the air, however, and whirled around, writing out a message in his flames; the letters hung in sparking curls:

  Blood touched

  With Sacrifice

  We kill again.

  Always with the riddles…

  The words flared so brightly that I covered my eyes, then they died, still haloed against my eyelids. Silver Ax bent forwards, as if bowing.

  I couldn’t help the smile.

  Then Silver Ax stilled; my own magic shifted with thrilled anticipation.

  A single word blazed behind Silver Ax in the dark: GODMAKER.

  I wet my dry lips. “Welcome to the fam, Godmaker. Together we’ll kick Seraphim arse.”

  Godmaker sizzled with flames, whilst he roared: a fierce and ancient warrior awoken.

  Yet now I knew the godly weapon that I needed to save all worlds from destruction — including from myself —I still had to follow the map out of the temple and into the deadly plains to quest for it.

  And every quest had dangers and a sacrifice.

  22

  I prowled towards the bone altar in the valley, booting aside piles of violet feathers. Hot rain drizzled from the crimson sky, dribbling down the back of my neck and plastering my hair to my forehead. I wiped wet strands out of my eyes, slipping on the bones that were piled beneath the feathers. Beyond the altar, a river of flames roared; it wound to a thunderous waterfall, which half-masked a cave into the side of a wall of bone.

  The sacrificial altar from the Gateway: the home of the Godmaker.

  Whose blood would the Godmaker demand?

  Firebird tugged at my sleeve. “Is this the infernal valley?”

  I nodded, battling the urge to glance down at my stinging palm, which had been branded when I’d been in the Gateway; the pain had flared up every time that I’d made a misstep in the wrong direction.

  Firebird tilted his chin. “No need to have the same melancholy cast as the Defender. In this bone valley, between the mountains of feathers, we’ll claim the weapon that shall make the god who can take the Crown.”

  My Seraphim magics rose up in answering battle cry. It was lucky that there weren’t any towns laying around to be sacked and pillaged.

  I curled my smarting hand into a fist. “That’s the problem.”

  When I’d sprawled back through the Gateway into the Gilded Cage, falling to the floor with a crack of my kneecaps, Gabriel had rushed to my side, awoken from his rest with Blaze.

  If looks could shank, Gabriel would’ve slain his brother for a second time: either pissed off that Mischief had secret Gateways or that he’d allowed me to be devoured by one. After all, Gabriel hadn’t known that the badass librarian Harahel had trained me in Angel World to survive the trip.

  I’d shrugged away from Gabriel, aching with the knowledge that in the secrets and lies of Court Two, I hadn’t been able to risk sharing the Gateway’s revelations.

  Instead, I’d demanded to leave the temple.

  Curses, pleading, scoffing.

  Until I’d howled above my family’s hullabaloo:

  Blood touched

  With Sacrifice

  We kill again.

  “You’re certain?” Gabriel’s expression had been troubled. “This is the way?”

  Then Mischief, Rebel, and the fox brothers had fallen silent, whilst exchanging glances, before they’d each nodded.

  “Oh, in case you’re unclear,” Mischief had sniffed, “that means we’re volunteering to go with you.”

  I’d shaken my head. “This is a one bitch mission.”

  “Plus, do you not imagine that my father would notice a mass exodus? His Beloved, my spoils, or his own Acolyte son?” Gabriel hadn’t been able to meet my gaze. “The Phoenix, Firebird, however, my father imagines simply belongs to Quinn… He wouldn’t be missed…”

  Rebel had taken a step forward; his lips curled. “Not a chance, Archduke. I should be the one…”

  Mischief had caught Rebel’s hand, hauling him backwards firmly against his chest. When Mischief’s wings had curled around Rebel in protection, Rebel had cast him a startled glance.

  I hadn’t understood the sudden grief that had passed behind Mischief’s eyes.

  Now, as I stood before the altar, I shivered with an inconsolable wave of sorrow, that pulled at my chest, until it ached with the doleful desolation that swept through the valley like a disease. And I couldn’t shake the vision of Mischief curling his wings around Rebel, whilst the life died in his own eyes.

  The rain beat down harder in scalding tears.

  A sob behind me.

  When I twisted around, Firebird trembled. I gripped his wrist, and he hurled himself into my arms.

  “Forgive me, my Feathers,” he bawled. “Punish me for my wretched display. I do not know what forlorn spirit has possessed me.”

  “That’d be me.” I jumped at the sweet voice behind me.

  When I spun around, unsheathing Flight in a flaming arc, the…ghost…who perched on the edge of the altar giggled.

  “What a fierce barbarian you are, child.” The Spirit Seraphim, whose every word sang lamentations through my soul, scrutinized me with the hunger of the truly lonely. Her silk jade robe hung open, revealing her milky thighs, and her silver hair was held up with bronze combs like teeth. Light from the fire river caught the huge pearl that hung around her neck, which shimmered as iridescent as a rainbow. Yet I could see the cave wall on the other side of her, whilst she flickered in and out like there was bad reception. “I reflect my pain onto others…at least, onto the weak.”

  I bristled. “My epic bloke takes pain from others, so your Angelic Power sucks. Enough of the Moaning Myrtle and hand over the Godmaker.”

  The Spirit Seraphim’s large silver eyes, which swirled like she was auditioning for the role of Overseer, narrowed. All at once her pretty mouth twisted into an ugly snarl. “You think to steal such a treasure from Kuhel without sacrifice?”

  Firebird whimpered.

  I swallowed. “What is this? The dragon and the princess moment? Plus, referring to yourself in the third person is insane loner territory.”

  Kuhel hissed; a blast of wind, scented with mint and honey, blew Firebird and me tumbling backwards over piles of feathers and cracking over wing bones.

  “Perhaps we can avoid angering the vengeful apparition,” Firebird whispered, caressing his bumped temple; he’d never sounded more like Mischief. “I’m ashamed to say that I do not know if I would win against one such as she.”<
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  Kuhel rapped her jade nails against the altar with a sickly smile, although I noticed with a jolt that her fingers passed straight through. Then there was the slither of bone chains like guts at each corner of the altar wrapping around it…waiting for its victim.

  I bent my neck, whilst chills convulsed me.

  Kuhel shook her head. “There’s no fight or winner. Still champions come seeking who believe all is bound in strength and power. The only winning is in the losing.” A surge of sadness shook me, until my teeth chattered at it. “You seek from one who has lost all: you will take my pain. So, now I seek the blood of one dear to you.”

  I pushed myself to my knees; the pounding in my ears was like a death knell.

  The bitch would take from me those I loved because she mourned? What kind of screwed-up spirit was she?

  I pulled myself onto my knees. “Not happening, ghost bitch.”

  She shrugged. “Then no weapon.”

  This is it, Violet-death. The moment: are you brave enough to seize it?

  It’s not courage to send others to their deaths.

  You’ve no idea, hooker, how much courage it takes to send someone to their death.

  Dying is easy. It’s killing that hurts.

  J’s melancholy was almost as great as the ghost’s; I ached with his pain.

  Firebird pushed himself up, straightening his shoulders, before he marched towards the altar.

  What the hell…?

  I remembered Gabriel’s troubled expression and the grief in Mischief’s eyes: Firebird had been sent with me as the sacrificial lamb.

  Cold washed over me. Had Firebird guessed it too?

  I launched myself up, yanking Firebird back by the elbow. I clutched him, kissing over the fluff of his hair and then across his wet cheeks; he’d been silently crying as he’d walked to his death.

  There was no bastard way that I’d ever sacrifice a Phoenix slave who was younger than Jade.

  I gripped his cheeks and forced him to look at me. “You are dear to me, but I’d never let you die for me.”

  “My Feathers,” he murmured, and in that moment, I knew that to him, I was his creator and god, “let me serve you.”

  “Want to take the bitch down?” I asked, telepathically.

  Finally, Firebird smiled. “Very much so.”

  I wound through the crimson tendrils of our bond, vibrating with the sudden joy that warmed me against the desolate cold of Kuhel’s valley. When I sent my strength through the connection, Firebird’s wings unfurled, then he grinned, before he soared up into the sky.

  I prowled towards Kuhel, who stared back at me, nonplussed, whilst Firebird circled her above. “Hand over the ax now, or we’re going Phoenix style on your arse.”

  Kuhel slipped off the edge of the altar; her hand slid to the pearl around her neck. “Always the barbarians come banging on their chests.”

  I threw more power into the bond, until Firebird’s golden wings flamed. Then he dived.

  Kuhel’s form thinned until it was nothing more than an outline. Too late to pull out of the attack, Firebird plunged straight through Kuhel, crash landing along the sharp path of bones.

  I wrenched back, desperately pulling on the bond to haul Firebird away from the edge of the fire river, before he plunged into the blaze.

  Hell, please…

  In a flurry of feathers, Firebird skidded to a stop, whilst flames licked at him. I scrambled to drag him back from the river’s edge. Then I patted over his bruised body, shaking him.

  “He’s not dead,” Kuhel drawled, drawing away her hand from her pearl necklace, whilst she became opaquer again. “Dim children take naps. Fool: this form is only an illusion.” Her voice quivered with rage. “I’ve been…transformed…for centuries. Don’t be so eager to see my true form; you’ll wish that you hadn’t been.”

  I stroked Firebird’s purpling cheek. My eyes were flinty, as I swept up, stalking towards Kuhel. “Now it’s just us two bitches. You’ll have to take me.”

  “That’s not how the game’s played.” Kuhel wagged her finger. “Think hard: who’s dear to you?”

  I stilled: don’t you dare have a Stay Puft Marshmallow Man moment, brain…

  …Training with Rebel as my Custodian in the glade behind the House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox, whilst the snow kissed us like confetti…a thrilling dance: blade and fire, Sex Pistols and love…

  At Kuhel’s laugh, I flinched.

  “You’ve made your selection…?” Kuhel crowed.

  “No way…no selection…no choosing…and no Irish punk here anyway—”

  “Don’t get narked, but that’s not altogether true.” Rebel slunk out of the feather mountain’s shadows with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  I stared at him. “Are you real?”

  Hell, let him be an illusion. Let my Rebel be back in the temple…

  Rebel’s laugh was low. “Sweet Jesus, how many times have I wondered that about you? Even now, it’s like I’m still in the cell on Angel World, sinking into the dark and nothing’s real…only for you to pull me up out of it for bright sharp moments of true life.”

  “Why are you here?” I demanded.

  “You know,” Rebel said, shanking me with two such simple words. My heart pounded so rapidly that I couldn’t catch my breath, yet I was frozen, statuesque. “There’s always a price, so there is, and what kind of bad bastard would I be if I let Mischief’s brother pay it? Mischief thought that he could survive such a brutal loss, but I know how much he’s suffered for his brothers. It’d break him, and I—”

  “Shut the hell up, pretty boy.” I stormed to Rebel, dragging him into my arms, whilst the Glory in me roared to punish him for suggesting that he abandon me. “The sacrifice doesn’t have to be you.”

  Rebel flinched at the tightness of my fingers bruising his arms, but didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested his cheek against mine. “It’s always been me, Feathers.” I shook, whilst his wings soothed up and down my back. Why was he comforting me? I wasn’t the one about to be tied to a sacrificial altar. “I’m sorry, so I am, for not catching up with you sooner after the Archduke let me go, but I’m a selfish ball-bag. I just wanted a few more hours without you knowing, whilst I could still pretend…”

  I stopped his apology with a kiss, tearing at his bottom lip, until he hissed. “There’s no need to pretend. I didn’t let you die for me before and I won’t let you die for me now.”

  Rebel’s eyes sparked. “Wise up! This time I’m not dying for you alone: I’m dying for all my family, Angel World, Under World, and the humans who I swore to save as a hunter…everyone.” His expression suddenly became haunted. “I die to prove that I can be more than a bad angel, bad Custodian, and bad son…that what Drake and I promised to protect was worth it. Let me have this; on all that’s blessed, don’t take this away.”

  I shook my head, but Rebel wrenched out of my grip. I could barely see him through the veil of tears.

  Rebel pressed a gentle kiss to my clenched fist. “Hurt me.” A second kiss to my fluttering throat. “Kiss me.” Then his gaze flickered to Kuhel, before he kissed me for a third time: on my lips. “Burn me.”

  Then he turned in a swish of red-and-black leather and strode to the altar. Before I could stop him, he laid back, allowing the chains to snake out and wrap around his wrists and ankles, jerking him spread-eagled, whilst his wings lay outstretched. He gasped at the pain of being wrenched until his back arched.

  Kuhel’s eyes glinted with a fierce light. “Sacrifice selected. I shall feast on his flesh, whilst you gorge on my agony.”

  In a flash of silver lightning, Kuhel vanished.

  I launched myself to the altar, tugging on the chains, but they slipped out of my hands. I growled, slamming my fist repeatedly against the links.

  “Feathers,” Rebel murmured, “take it easy. Just…” He reached with his hand as far as he could in the restraints. I clasped his fingers between mine, whilst I wiped the rain off his face with m
y sleeve. Then I kissed him more gently than I ever had before, as if that could make up for every bruise and burn. Rebel’s laugh caught in his throat. “Get on with you, we might’ve left it on the late side to make love.”

  I stroked the back of my hand down his cheek; he was shivering. “But if I was asking…?”

  His fingers tightened around mine. “I told you back in the House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox to offer again when you loved me.” His gaze was steady: it flayed me. “I’ve always seen you, but now you see me. And knowing that you love me is enough. Sweet saints, woman, I’ve been ready to die for centuries.”

  “I’ve never been ready for you to die.” I clutched Rebel’s collar, like that way I could hold onto him forever; my tears dripped onto his cheeks.

  “Take it easy: love is pain.” Rebel shuddered, before forcing himself to meet my gaze again with new resolve. “I’m not afraid anymore; soon, I’ll be rising into the light.”

  Why the hell had I lied to Rebel that death was a heaven of light? Yet if I hadn’t, he wouldn’t be throwing himself willingly into the flames but quaking in fear of the end.

  His belief was his savior, even if it was all a lie.

  “Yeah, it’ll never be dark again,” I forced out.

  But it would be: forever dark for both of us.

  “Don’t leave me.” Rebel’s plea shanked me in the soft parts that I didn’t know I still had. “Not until…”

  “Never.”

  I sniffed, distracted by the sudden sweet zing in the air, just before a lightning bolt flashed jagged at the head of the altar.

  Dazzling, the light blinded me momentarily, whilst I stumbled backwards from the blast, losing my grip on Rebel. The spectral clones of the lightning endlessly repeated in front of my eyes, whilst I fought to blink them away.

  Crack.

  I jolted at the thunderclap, which burst above in the stormy sky. I wrinkled my nose at the stench of burnt feathers, before my sight settled, and I was blasted further from the altar by a wall of wind.