Rebel Angels: The Complete Series

by Rosemary A Johns

Frantic, I fought against it to reach Rebel’s side.

  I’d promised not to leave him…

  But the squall held me back. Then from the cave behind the waterfall, in a spray of crimson fire, burst an enormous Jade Dragon.

  23

  The Jade Dragon surged through the bubbling flames like they were water; it’s long neck snaked side to side, its horns resembled the ones that Lucifer had once worn on his helmet, and an over-sized pearl was embedded in its scaly neck.

  When the Jade Dragon slithered onto the shore past the heaped mountains of feathers, winding around Rebel who was tied to the altar, I hollered. Rebel only stared up at the stormy sky, blankly. He didn’t struggle or pull on the chains: he was the princess laid out for the dragon and ready to die.

  The wind blew harder, as I slammed myself against it. Howling, I fell to my knees amongst the long dead of the plains, unable to look away, whilst the Jade Dragon sniffed at Rebel, savoring the treat: from his hands down to his tight trousers…

  “Don’t bastard touch him, Smaug.” I trembled, hugging my arms around myself.

  The Jade Dragon’s head turned to me, even whilst its tail whipped over Rebel, stroking down his chest possessively, and its eyes were a swirling silver: This was Kuhel’s true form.

  She was right, I now wished that she was ghost girl again.

  Kuhel opened her mouth, displaying her sharp teeth as if in a grin, before she turned back to Rebel and rose up over his left — damaged — wing.

  “Close your eyes,” Rebel begged. “You can leave me now.”

  I desperately wanted not to watch, but I couldn’t look away because how could I abandon Rebel? If Rebel was ready to die, then I should be ready to witness his death. I wouldn’t take Kuhel’s pain, I’d take Rebel’s courage, so that it wouldn’t be forgotten.

  Fire snorted from Kuhel’s nose across Rebel’s wing, and Rebel shrieked, thrashing in agony.

  Then Kuhel opened her jaws…

  Suddenly, Jahael in giant form burst through the mountain of feathers, scattering them like violet rain amongst the crimson. Jahael’s hair hung loose, crackling with silver, along with his six flared wings. His robe had been transformed to armor.

  Here was a god of old: and he was pissed.

  I’d never thought that I’d be pleased to see the bastard.

  Kuhel reared back; her monstrous face appeared almost angelic again in its longing and grief, before her eyes sparked, and she roared. Then she plunged towards Jahael, who caught her in his hands in equal rage like she was no more dangerous than a lizard, holding her snapping teeth away from him, as he brought her down over his knee.

  Snap — I winced at the shatter of bones.

  The tempest died. At last, I struggled up, staggering to Rebel.

  Dazed, Rebel stared at me, as I yanked ineffectually at the chains that still held him down, whilst the Godzilla worthy battle of the monsters continued behind us.

  Kuhel wrapped her sinuous body around Jahael, squeezing. When she butted him with her head, she gored his chest with her horns. Jahael’s bellow echoed around the valley. Then he wrenched back Kuhel’s head to pull free the horns; scarlet stained his chest.

  I held my breath. Any moment, fire would snort out of Kuhel’s nose and…

  Jahael took hold of the pearl in Kuhel’s neck and tugged.

  Instantly, Jahael transformed to his normal size, catching Kuhel as she too changed but not into the ghost that’d greeted me. Instead, she became a real Seraphim.

  Jahael cradled Kuhel to the ground, kissing her, until she blinked awake: A Seraphim Sleeping Beauty.

  Kuhel’s eyes widened; the pall of melancholy lifted from the valley. The rain stopped; a rainbow spanned the fire river.

  Kuhel whispered, “My dear…?”

  Crack — Jahael snapped Kuhel’s neck.

  Then he dropped her to the side amongst the bones and stood, wiping his hands down his armor.

  Rebel and I shouted out in the same startled, sick shock.

  Had I cheered on the wrong monster?

  Jahael stalked towards me with his wings beating. I drew Flight, but he knocked the sword flying from my hand with a spark of silver. “I don’t think so; daddy needs a little discussion with you, darling.” Jahael snatched me by the hair, hurling me onto Rebel’s seared wing on the altar.

  Rebel’s howl was silenced by Jahael’s mouth, which slammed over Rebel’s in a furious clash of teeth and bite: an attack masked by passion. Only when he drew back, did I notice the tears that had streamed down Jahael’s cheeks.

  “How does a tempter taste of candy innocence?” Jahael muttered.

  I tried to struggle up, but Jahael wrapped his manicured fingers around both Rebel’s throat and mine, holding us both down.

  I couldn’t forget the ease with which he’d cracked Kuhel’s neck, tossing her away like a broken doll.

  Jahael breathed hard through his nostrils. “It’s enough to make a scaredy-cat even of me, when your Firstborn’s weak in a world as dangerous as this. So weak, that I even fibbed and told him that his mummy — the floozy who he doted on — had died.” His lips pinched. “BAM! She’s dead now.”

  He turned my head to look at Kuhel.

  The Jade Dragon was Gabriel’s mother…?

  “Why the hell was she playing at dragon?” I rasped.

  “Not playing, girl.” Jahael leaned closer; musky agarwood washed over me in an intoxicating wave. “When we came to this realm, we ruled as equals. But then her sweet ass betrayed me because she wanted more: no power was enough. I wasn’t enough.”

  I choked, as his fingers constricted.

  “Lay off,” Rebel demanded.

  Jahael scowled at Rebel. “Watch your delicious mouth, my untameable Beloved, or I’ll find other uses for it.” He eased off my throat, and I gasped. “I ignored my Empress’…indiscretions…as she ignored mine. But tell me this, how could I ignore her choosing my own brother in a coup against me? Loving him…?” I startled. Gabriel’s own mum had tried to depose Jahael alongside Ariel, who now led the Damned against Jahael? Did Gabriel even know? After all, he thought that she’d died, not been trapped in a cave as a dragon. “Don’t look so shocked, girl,” Jahael pouted. “I only transformed Kuhel into a monster as ugly as she was on the inside. My court is full of snakes; they hiss plots and venom. But do you want to hear the line that’ll bring down the house?” He bent over me; his lips were cold against my ear. “I still loved my Empress: she was my dearest love. Now because of you, she’s dead. I should take away your love, Violet-darling.”

  I trembled, whilst my pulse pounded, as Jahael’s fingers stroked over Rebel’s throat. “Don’t—”

  “You were made to adore me,” Jahael wailed. “You should worship me as your dearest god. I desire all my children’s love because I’m a jealous bitch.”

  Finally, Jahael leaned back from us, letting go, before smashing his hand onto the side of the altar.

  Crash — the hollow bone caved in, and Jahael hauled out the Godmaker.

  The ax gleamed in glory, as Jahael swung it pendulum-like above our heads.

  “What a fabulous plaything. Is this what you were after?” Jahael arched his brow, although his hands shook.

  Dizzy from watching the Godmaker swing above the tip of my nose — the swish of the air as it passed blowing across my cheeks — I was too exhausted to do anything but hum my agreement.

  Yet I couldn’t help the sting at the betrayal: who’d played us? I hated that I instantly doubted Gabriel.

  Please, let me be wrong…

  “If you’re to rule next to me, you need to remember the dangers of pussy power. My son needs a wing whipping just for thinking that he could sneak you out stealthily; Istafil’s my Favored One because she’s the most asshole of ruthless spies; she reports every whisper. Nothing happens in the Gilded Cage that she doesn’t know about or control.” When Jahael paused Godmaker over Rebel, I tensed. Yet I hadn’t been able to help the breath of relief that G
abriel hadn’t tricked us. Under the sway of Istafil in the Gilded Cage on one side, and his exiled uncle on the other, however, he was at even more risk than I’d realized. “How about my seeded one tells me why she’d want a bauble like this? And I’ll play act like I believe her…or not.”

  Jahael wanted play acting? He’d bastard get it.

  Now to appeal to the paranoid in him…

  My eyes blazed, as I met Jahael’s gaze. “You want me to let out my divine side? How can I do that when I have to prove my strength against all those snakes in your psycho court? The only way to stop them plotting and manipulating is to make certain that they know I can kick their arse.”

  Jahael drew back, uncertain. The Godmaker hung loose in his hand. “They’re plotting against you? My own creation?”

  “Aren’t they?”

  Jahael scrutinized me, before nodding. “Most likely.”

  The chains melted. I wriggled up on the altar, easing Rebel’s bleeding wrists to my lips and kissing the candy copper blood. “From now on you live for me,” I whispered sternly, as I drew Rebel into my embrace, stroking along his blackened feathers.

  Rebel nodded. “Always.”

  Jahael’s laugh made Rebel pull me closer.

  “Aren’t you the fascinating Fallen God?” Jahael’s dry hand on the base of my neck made me cringe. “Your streak of ambition is divine. Yet love for the unworthy leads to nothing but betrayal, pain, and death. Worship is the only true love. You’re weakened by your attachments, and now I have your less sentimental past selves to choose from…I can’t decide which of your biteable assed versions to raise by my side.”

  “They’re museum relics; I’m the bitch who isn’t dead,” I snarled.

  Jahael waved his hand. “Details. I love a spectacle, and you cheated me of one at the end of the Angel Games. So, you Violets shall fight in the Games against yourselves. The winner gets the Godmaker and to become my heir.”

  By seeking out a weapon, I could’ve armed a psychotic vampire or a dominating Glory to become the next ruler.

  Maybe I could wield Godmaker and not laugh above the bones and feathers of the dead, but my past selves…? They’d feast on their enemies and delight on new worlds kneeling.

  My eyes narrowed. “Not happening, you nauseatingly beautiful yet sadistic despot.”

  Jahael sighed dramatically. “It seems that your brother’s a star Adviser: you’re just a naughty faker. Those drinking sessions simply never took, did they? Well, if you don’t want the weapon, you only have to say…”

  I clenched my jaw. “I’ll battle myself. And I’ll win. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

  Jahael smiled. “You go, girl! Because the losers? They also get dead.”

  Rebel shook his head, enfolding me in his wings.

  Yet this time it was my choice: to risk my life to gain the Godmaker. My vision in the Gateway had brought the weapon into this fight, and I couldn’t let Vampire or Angel Me become as powerful as Jahael.

  I might die in the Angel Games, but worse, my other versions might live. Then a monster even more deadly than Jahael would be unleashed.

  24

  Know yourself: especially if you’re a bitch.

  Fangs sank into my right shoulder, and a shank skewered my left. Both fangs and shank pinned me to the ruby floor in the final room of the Pleasure Pavilion. I choked, coughing pretty patterns of crimson onto my bluing lips. The sulfur smog stung my eyes, whilst I became the hunted prey in the Angel Games.

  Vampire Me snarled around her mouthful of flesh, sucking on my blood, whilst Angel Me whooped in victory.

  I shuddered, clawing at the floor, until my nails broke, but I’d played this level like a newbie: my past selves had formed a pack and brought me down.

  Here, I was the Big Bad.

  Why hadn’t I realized that I’d be the common enemy? I’d violated, broken, and stolen both their blokes. Now payback was a bitch.

  “Will you give us such a poor show, sister?” The Overseer’s — Gabriel’s — superior voice cut through the twin points of agony in my shoulder blades, where my wings once had been.

  Yet underneath the sneer, I caught the strain, whilst Gabriel held himself back from transforming into killer lion mode and mauling my attackers.

  I raised my head, even as one of my bastard selves pressed their sharp knees into my back. I grunted, but caught a glimpse of Gabriel’s swirling eyes above me in the blackness, along with his giant pink lips.

  There was none of the calmness, joy, or connection that I’d sunk into when Rebel had drunk from me in Hackney Cemetery; Vampire Me’s feasting was all about pain and not the pleasure. Was this how she’d treated her poor Blood Lovers?

  At the start of the games, my past selves had prowled around the pavilion, staring up at the high walls with the dragon statues, before peering down into the gaping Abyss. Then they’d drawn together, glaring at me.

  They’d guessed that we hadn’t been gathered for a long overdue slumber party…and that it’d been my fault.

  Jahael had shimmered above our heads, riding a dragon statue with a mock salute at me, which had made my stomach turn when I’d remembered Kuhel’s raw power, before she’d laid dead at his hand.

  Even if the bitch’s scaly hide had been begging to be ganked.

  Yet when Jahael had pontificated with offers of weapons, thrones, and worship, Angel Me had snorted and turned her back.

  Vampire Me had sniggered. “Crikey, what a clot you are. We don’t care about any of your flash plans or offers. We’re not your entertainment.”

  Angel Me had simply glanced back over her shoulder and nodded.

  Jahael had roared. The pavilion had vibrated, whilst thick clouds had plumed from the statues’ mouths.

  Any moment, we’d be wading in lava…

  Then Jahael had clicked his fingers with a tight smile.

  Black had hissed in an oily slick out of the Abyss, carrying in its tide two tarred creatures…flame red hair peeked out of the top of one and a sable mane out of the other.

  Hell, no…

  My ancient powers, which had seethed inside my gums, shoulder blades, and claws that had shot out at the sight along with my fangs, had told me that it was Ash and Rebel.

  My past selves had howled in outrage at the same time as me: our voices had mingled as one. For the first time, they’d felt like part of me, experiencing the same pain.

  Before any of us had been able to dive to the edge of the Abyss, however, the black had receded, yanking Ash and Rebel back down into the dark…

  With a shadow fueled fierceness, I’d swept to Jahael, but he’d simply lifted his hand like a headmaster requesting quiet from unruly kids. “Will you shake your thing now?” Jahael had leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands in mock innocence. “I’m super excited to see who wins this angel vs Fallen vs monster knockdown. And because I’m so spectacularly benevolent, whoever wins will not only save their toy, but can also ask one favor of me. The others shall die. Now isn’t that entertainment!”

  Angel Me twisted the knife, burrowing it further into my back; when it scraped bone, I hollered.

  Panting, I grasped hard onto the edges of consciousness, whilst my magic lashed out. Flames sparked but then died along my skin.

  J, spark the violet match: I need to go BOOM!

  What’s righteous about barbecuing yourself?

  Angel You has more righteousness in her left tit, than you have in your entire divalicious self.

  Then how do I fight both of them? How do I fight myself, when they know my moves?

  They don’t know you, Violet-blade: Hackney, Jerusalem’s, or the bitch that you’ve become.

  But you’ve studied their worlds: pretty boy punk and the Seducer have given you a crash course in how you used to be, even if you didn’t know it then.

  Words are the true weapons: shank them where it hurts.

  When Vampire Me tore her fangs out of my shoulder, I screamed. To my surprise, Angel Me stroked
my hair almost in apology, as she too wrenched out Star.

  And hell did that smart: stabbed in the back by Rebel’s gift.

  “Perhaps, competitors could take a moment to…” Gabriel sounded panicked.

  Then Jahael clapped his hands in fury, and Gabriel’s eyes and mouth sparked out.

  I shuddered, as my past selves snatched an ankle each and bang — bang — bang, dragged me across to the lip of the Abyss.

  “I regret the necessity of killing you, half Fallen.” Angel Me peered down; her golden armor had tarnished in the sooty air. “You might be a beastly, sluttish Glory but you’re still part Glory, and if Rebel was not at risk, I would make that sadly puffed up Wing of an Emperor cry mercy that he ever dared cross us.”

  Hell, I’d made a chilling Glory…

  Angel Me nudged me towards the edge; I gasped.

  Time to shank with words. If I couldn’t fight fair, I could fight dirty.

  Divide and conquer Violet style.

  “I bet you could make him cry all sorts of things.” I flicked a glance at Vampire Me, who was pretending not to watch our exchange, pulling at her lace gloves with pretend indifference. “Rebel told me that you were known to the vampires as the Destroyer.”

  Vampire Me’s head shot up. “You’re the Destroyer?”

  Angel Me preened. “An honor won upon many a blood trammeled battlefield.”

  “Damn your eyes, trammeled with Fallen blood,” Vampire Me hissed.

  Angel Me laughed. “I fail to see the loss.”

  Vampire Me let go of my ankle with a growl. I held myself still with an effort.

  Time to stoke the flames.

  “Weren’t there also dark amusements to be had with the Fang POWs…?” I asked. “Ash tells me that they were used like the captured angel pets, from which you fed, Bitesalot.”

  A wild stab in the dark that one, but I shoved myself onto my side, raising my eyebrow at Vampire Me. From the way that she’d suckled on my blood, there was no way that she wasn’t addicted. She’d learned to hunger for angel blood somewhere and it hadn’t been on the willing.

  Angel Me drew herself up in outrage; her fingers shook around Star. “Villainy of villainies! Not only a traitor to choose the foulest side in the war but also a cruel abuser of prisoners.”