Soul Betrayer

by Allyson Lindt

  Soul Betrayer

  Ubiquity Book 2

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Original Copyright © 2017

  Second Edition Copyright © 2019 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Also By Allyson Lindt

  About the Author

  Blurb

  Ronnie misses Michael more than seems fair, given their short time together. Lucky for her, she still has Irdu ... And the ultimate promotion—an executive position at Ubiquity. As the public face of the world’s largest search engine, she’s got plenty to keep her busy.

  When the SEC comes knocking, because Lucifer did a poor job of hiding how heaven and hell funded a global corporation, Ronnie’s problems are just starting. Angels and demons are vanishing, and no one knows why. Oh, and there’s the matter of someone with other-worldly power, destroying buildings and city blocks from Boston to Moscow, then posting the videos online.

  The chaos tears her from the ones she loves. The questions it raises lead her to Michael and revelations about his involvement she’s not prepared to face. Her time to decide who she can trust is running out. If she doesn’t find her answers in time, heaven and hell will be exposed to the world, and humanity will pay the price.

  For my eternal dragon

  Chapter One

  Michael thought this would get easier. The first time he was forced to tear a foreign power from another angel, to banish her to the worst fate any agent could suffer, regret threatened to consume him.

  These days, seek was status quo, but destroy still left an aching pit in his chest. He hated sentencing the beings of heaven and hell—his colleagues—to an eternity of non-existence.

  With luck, this time no one would have to die. If he lingered on it too long, guilt would paralyze him with indecision.

  Lights flickered in the hotel hallway, as if mocking his hope, and a faint breeze from the air conditioner rushed over him. He paused in front of the room Abaddon gave him the number for, and extended his ethereal reach enough to feel, but not so much he would register on his target’s radar.

  Jagged edges of aura pushed back, slicing his senses. This was the place.

  The red glow of an LED stared back at him from the electronic lock. A single shock from his finger, nothing to leave burns or traces, and he could short-circuit the device. This was something he loved about technology—destroying it was so much more subtle than blowing a hole through a door.

  He wanted to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, though. No reason to barge in unannounced. He knocked.

  Since he started hunting, he’d torn the extraneous power and the very essence from several angels, but this was his first demon. Not that there was much difference. They were created in separate places, but in the end, demon and angel were simply labels. Maybe being named in hell would make Azazel more pliable. Not that Michael believed it. All agents started as nondescript sources of power that appeared either in heaven or hell. A cherub served until one of the original angels—himself, Gabriel, or Lucifer—gave it a name.

  A name granted purpose, made the cherub a demon or angel, and allowed then to assume a physical form.

  The door swung open. Azazel’s aura flickered and danced in spikes of light, bleeding into the dimly light hallway, as if the power inside him didn’t know who was in control. That explained the jagged sensation Azazel radiated. The demon had an extraneous cherub. For reasons yet to be discovered, a century or two back cherubs started appearing on earth. They couldn’t survive without a physical form, and survival instinct drove them to inhabit the first they came across. Sometimes human, other times an inanimate object. Recently, agents discovered merging with one meant extra power. Judging by the electricity show Azazel emitted, sharing his brain with another entity was wreaking havoc on his psyche.

  “The great and mighty Michael.” Azazel leaned against the doorframe, boredom in his tone. “So it’s true.”

  This looked more cliché with each passing moment, down to the cheesy script. If Ronnie were here, she’d have a sarcastic retort. Her name added an ache of longing to the pit of disappointment growing inside. He extended his energy through the room and surrounding area. Nothing big or obvious, simply a blanket to hide their activity from passersby and keep Azazel from phasing someplace else.

  “Azazel, you are in violation of the agents’ code of conduct. You’ve taken another life, in order to further your needs. Surrender the cherub now, and you’ll be granted absolution. Refuse, and your existence ends this evening.”

  Michael wasn’t fond of the memorized monologue. When he helped innocents integrate, he played things by ear. After the first few Seek and Destroy missions, when he realized none of his colleagues would yield, he came up with the speech. It kept things simple.

  “Who says they’re lives?” Azazel asked.

  Michael swallowed a sigh. “This isn’t a philosophical discussion about what defines life. Cherubs are sentient, not energy drinks. You don’t get to pluck one out of existence because you need a little pick-me-up.”

  Azazel furrowed his brow, as if considering the words, then his posture shifted, back going rigid and fists clenching. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  Michael’s shield wobbled, tugging at him from the inside like someone trying to yank off a bandage. Azazel flickered then solidified again. He was stuck. Perfect. Michael reached for his arm. Once contact was made, Michael would absorb the foreign entity, send it back to heaven, return Azazel’s energy to hell, and destroy the name that granted him distinction.

  In the milliseconds it took Michael to summon his strength, laughter clattered down the hallway. A family rounded the corner. Mother and father in their early twenties, daughter four years old. The stats flowed through Michael in a blink, as any mortal’s information did.

  To the family’s eyes, the two men standing in the hallway would look like they were having a calm conversation. It was part of Michael’s shield. If anything seemed amiss, it would vanish from their thoughts by the time they reached their room.
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  Knowing that didn’t stop Michael from hesitating. They were innocent. Another thing he knew without question.

  The tugging adhesive feeling shattered, and Michael stumbled from the recoil, as his energy wall crumbled and fled back into him.

  “Hello.” The girl waved at them.

  “Hi there, darlin’.” Azazel crouched to her eye level. “You havin’ a good evening?” He could have phased from the building, and no one would have been wiser. Why did he engage instead?

  Tension tightened every muscle in Michael’s body. Keeping people safe—ensuring lives weren’t ended—was his primary goal.

  Discretion was paramount as well. The world didn’t need to think heaven and hell saw earth as an open battlefield. The media devoured stories about exploding balls of flame crashing into city buildings. That was thanks to Ariel, the first angel Michael went through this process with. Since her destruction, he’d prevented any more public act-of-God-like displays.

  Mom grabbed the girl’s hand. “Come on, honey. Pizza’s getting cold.”

  Michael felt the sparks race across his skin at the same time he saw Azazel’s aura flare. The instinct to protect humanity at all costs took over, and Michael flung out a new blockade of energy, shielding the family and fogging their minds at the same instant Azazel brought a crack of lightning crashing through the four stories above them, through the floor, and to the ground twenty feet below.

  A gaping, smoldering hole stood where Azazel had been an instant earlier. The stench of burning wood and melting synthetic carpet singed Michael’s sinuses, and smoke rose into the now-visible sky.

  The girl screamed, terrified at the sight, and her mother joined in.

  Michael wanted to comfort them. He itched to sooth the distressed family, or better yet, shift their world so it had never happened. Memory fogging worked for glitches—things people would rather ignore. A five-foot crater running through a hotel? That couldn’t be masked.

  Their fear and panic were tangible, permeating his skin, drilling into him thanks to inherent empathy. It left the foul taste of chalk in his mouth, and ached in his joints. The wide eyes they turned on him sparked with distrust. An almost tangible bubble of back the fuck off radiated from the family. He cast an invisible platform over the hole on every floor, so no one would fall in. It would dissolve in about an hour, and as long as no one tripped or stumbled into it, they’d never know. However, he’d risk reports of people walking on air to keep anyone from getting hurt.

  He hated to step away instead of reach out to the family, but his options were limited. Blinking out of site to move to a new location wasn’t possible here. Their eyes were wide open right now, and he wouldn’t be able to make them forget anything they saw. As he strode for the stairs, irritation and frustration mounting, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 911. “Yes. I’d like to report a freak act of God.” He gave them the address.

  The moment he entered the stairwell, he phased to his ethereal form and vanished from the mortal plane. It had taken him months to track down Azazel, and now the bastard was gone again, leaving destruction and terror in his wake.

  I could reach out to Ronnie. See if Ubiquity has anything on him. Michael growled at the errant thought, and the surge of longing that mingled with his frustration. He didn’t understand why he still missed her, but giving into the impulse to see her again wouldn’t further his cause.

  This was going to be a long decade.

  RONNIE GAVE IZZY A tight hug. “I’m glad you’re doing better,” she said and stepped back. Izrafel was a fallen angel who had gotten caught in the crossfire when Ariel, one of Ronnie’s colleagues, made a bid for more power, and destroyed half the city in the process.

  Some angels and demons chose to fall and become mortal because they no longer believed in what they did. Izzy was one of those who had decided he’d grown as much as he could ethereally, and opted for mortality as a chance to become more.

  The foot traffic outside the corner coffee shop parted around them, people going about their day. She nodded at Holden, the man standing next to him.

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she was a little jealous of Holden having caught Izzy’s eye. Sure, she had Irdu, who was incredible. She missed Michael, as much as she was trying to get over him.

  But Izzy was sweet. And sexy. And smart—which was like extra sexy on top of it all. It was a good thing demons and angels didn’t believe in things like monogamy, or Ronnie would think she was getting greedy. “And it was nice to meet you. I hate to cut and run, but...”

  Izzy gave her fingers another squeeze before letting go. “I never thought I’d see the day that a lost, amnesiac demon would become a corporate drone.”

  “I’m not a drone.” She focused on the teasing banter, and not the way Holden rarely took his eyes off her. The afternoon heat beating down on her exposed shoulder blades was pleasant. His gaze? A lot more blistering and uncomfortable. She wanted to think the heavy stare was because he knew she lusted after his boyfriend. It probably wasn’t. “I’m more like a queen bee.”

  “Right. Tuesday night?” Izzy asked.

  “I’ll be there.” She waved over her shoulder as she strolled away. She could have phased back to work, but she wanted to take her time returning. That, and Holden might not be so easily compelled to forget her blinking out of sight. If he was a prophet, and had the ability to see a demon or angel’s aura, he’d witnessed enough weird shit in his life that he’d remember someone vanishing in front of him.

  The moment she rounded the corner, she dialed a familiar number.

  “How’d it go?” Lucifer asked.

  “Next time do your own dirty work.” She liked Lucifer. In a past life she’d loved him. It meant she was a sucker for his requests, and he knew it.

  “That good, huh?”

  The memory of Holden’s attention sent chills down her spine. “Creepy bastard wouldn’t stop staring at me. An entire meal, and I’m supposed to pretend I don’t notice?”

  “So he either knows what you are, or he’s worried you’re trying to steal is boyfriend.”

  Busted. “I should have just asked him.” Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Hey. Are you glued to the fact I glow, or are you just jealous of the way your guy watches me when I’m in a skirt? I’m not doing this again.”

  “You mentioned that.” His voice came from next to her, instead of through her phone. “This isn’t about me.”

  She glanced sideways to confirm he’d fallen into step beside her, and then she pocketed her phone. “Yeah, yeah. Greater good and all that bullshit. Even if it weren’t for the whole gawking-boyfriend thing, I don’t like lying to Izzy.”

  “You’ve mentioned that too. You’d rather tell him the man he loves is using him to get insider information?”

  “I’d rather not tell him anything, but—”

  “My point.”

  God. He was so infuriating sometimes. It figured one of her closest allies, the only person she could talk to about this situation, was Lucifer. Arbitrator for humans and agents alike. She’d love to talk to Irdu about it, but she’d been sworn to secrecy. She hated lying to her boyfriend. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’d rather he know the truth, and if that’s the reality of the thing...”

  “Don’t blow this for sentiment. Who do you have watching him?”

  “Tia, but that’s not the point.” Tiamet was a demon Ronnie had worked with when she was in retrieval. Tia loved office gossip, and—like most demons—good ice cream. She wasn’t powerful, but she made it up in enthusiasm. She was also Ronnie’s boyfriend’s sister. Not that anyone could know—demons weren’t supposed to have siblings.

  Izzy’s safety was always a concern, but more now because until a few months ago, he hosted a cherub. It had been stripped from him, leaving him more mortal than he was used to. He didn’t understand the limits of his human body yet.

  Ronnie might feel better about the whole thing if she knew whom to be worried about. A
s a conglomeration of Metatron, an original angel who Gabriel tried to destroy thousands of years ago, and Uriel, the cherub Lucifer named and tried to use to bring Metatron back to life, Ronnie had both of their memories. But the few thousand year gap between one vanishing off the radar and the other popping into existence meant she didn’t know who the power players were in heaven and hell. It wasn’t as if there were a company roster somewhere that said these agents might be mentally unstable, and lusting after power.

  Lucifer and Ronnie passed a candy shop, and she watched the taffy maker spinning in the window, until it was too awkward to walk and study the hypnotic rhythm at the same time. The place had the best homemade caramel.

  “If you think I’m wrong about Holden, why haven’t you said anything to Izzy yet?” Lucifer asked.

  Because she wasn’t certain. Admitting that doubt made her feel weak somehow.

  “Exactly.” His tone implied he knew what she was thinking.

  Arrogant ass. “If it’s not true, I’m not going to break Izzy’s heart over it. He’s happy with this Holden guy.” Besides, if it was true—if Holden was involved in a string of agent disappearances—Izzy was her and Lucifer’s way to get to him. And Izzy was a lot more likely to play the doting-boyfriend role if he was actually a doting boyfriend.

  “It’ll all work out. I promise.” A smooth assurance bled into Lucifer’s tone. “We’ve got at least a day until the apocalypse.” And with that, he vanished.

  “That’s not funny,” she shouted at the empty air.

  “It’s not supposed to be.” His voice whispered in her ear, though he was nowhere to be seen.

  A few people turned to stare at her, and a couple others crossed the street. She didn’t care. Ever since she figured out how to merge the two voices in her head into one, she was secure in her sanity. Having the memories of two separate individuals might be disconcerting, but it didn’t make her nuts.

  She was tempted to turn around now, go back to Izzy, and pull him aside for a serious conversation. She’d been on the receiving end of Lucifer’s it’s for your own good deceptions. After he named her Uriel, and stuck Metatron in her head, he lied to her for months about why she heard voices, hoping things would just work themselves out. She figured it out eventually, but things would have gone a lot faster if she had the truth up front.