The Third Throne:
Angel of Death
Tabitha Barret
© Copyright 2015 Heather Baker
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
For copyright and publishing information, contact Tabitha Barret at her website http://www.tabithabarret.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real, living, or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Books in the Third Throne Series:
The Third Throne: Angel of Darkness
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my family for listening to me drone on and on about my characters and fight sequences. If I hadn’t talked about them at length, they would have never been written down. My husband deserves special praise for supporting my wild hobbies.
This book has been a long time in coming. The last two years have been tough trying to find time to do everything I wanted. I appreciate all the support and love I have received from my friends and family during the first book and I hope that this book two proves how serious I am about writing.
Thank you to my loyal fans who were the first to be excited for me as I ventured into this scary world known as book publishing. Without you, I wouldn’t have the courage to do it a second time. I love you Christie, Gilda, Kelly, Raisa, and Wanda!
I have to acknowledge my friend Min for her unwavering criticism of my writing and for her support. I really do pay attention to what you tell me. Thank you for taking the time to give me feedback and tell me the ugly truth when I need it.
A special thanks to Diane T. for pushing me to finish this book. I hope you enjoy it!
“Love never dies a natural death.
It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
―Anaïs Nin
Chapter 1
Hell, 526 A. D.
Alazar awoke to the sound of millions of voices screaming out in fear, agony, and anger. It was the background music that constantly filled his mind while awake or asleep. He could not escape it no matter what he did. Hell was where he lived. It was where he contemplated death, his and his Master’s.
Why had the Angel of Death been cursed to live in the most dreaded place ever conceived of? He had not done anything wrong, or at least, nothing bad enough to land his ass in prison, for that is what he considered his assignment in Hell. The Council had decreed that he and the other Predznak must await her arrival, so that they could join with their Master. They said that she would come for them. They said that she would enter the Gates of Hell and claim them, claim him. Over two thousand years later, he was still desperately attempting to keep the Predznak together, while preventing them from splintering apart, and falling into darkness, without her.
The same questions plagued his mind. Why had she not come as promised? Why had she left them to suffer the pain and humiliation of being forced to live among the wicked mortal souls of the damned? Would she ever come for them? He wished he knew the answers.
The familiar black stone greeted his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling of his small domicile. It mocked him as it did every morning. The ceiling was not lit by the warm and inviting sunlight, but the demonic red glow produced by the Realm of Fire that poured in through his window. The torches in the room only added to the effect, causing shadows to dance and flicker along the ceiling and walls.
He closed his eyes, refusing to accept that he had to get up and carry out his routine for another day. Cursing Gabriel’s latest delay, he tried to rally himself. He was crazy for believing that she would come, yet again allowing hope to swell inside of himself. He was a fool. He could not understand why Anjali refused to accept her duties and remained in hiding. Gabriel’s excuses were becoming redundant and infuriating. He had always assumed that the Destroyer would want to take up her mantle, but now he was not so sure. Perhaps her power was uncontrollable as Gabriel claimed, but he refused to believe that she could not control herself long enough to meet with them and explain the problem herself. He was tired of listening to Gabriel’s elegant speeches. He wanted to hear the reason from his Master’s mouth.
Sighing, he reluctantly looked around and realized that he was alone, his bed empty. Had he dreamt of the warmth and compassion that filled him during the night, or had it been real? He could not be sure. Dream and reality were becoming one and the same, one long, terrible nightmare that he could not find peace from. It was consuming him and slowly destroying him.
Footsteps from the hallway drew him from his depressing thoughts. He pulled back the sheets and snatched his black leather pants from the floor, where they had been haphazardly deposited during the evening. He pulled them on for modesty’s sake only and quietly opened his door. In the hallway was Aganon, Lucifer’s more tolerable servant, sneaking out of Zacharael’s door. Aganon had the decency to avoid Alazar’s gaze as he made his way down the hallway of the Annex. He practically ran past the doors of the other Predznak, back to the safety of the rotunda and Lucifer’s domain. The Harbinger’s Annex wasn’t safe for anyone, least of all the vermin that served Lucifer. Since the servant had escaped unscathed and with all of his limbs intact, he knew that the Angel of Desire had finally fallen victim to Lucifer’s will.
Zacharael’s vow to Alazar drifted through his mind as he clutched the door, threatening to smash the wood to pieces.
“I vow to you Alazar, I will do what it takes to keep you from falling into madness. You and I are the last ones sane enough to remember who we are and what our mission is. I swear to you, my brother, I will not let you stand against the impending darkness alone. We are in this together. We will survive. Our Master will come and we will laugh about this someday. Things will get better, I promise you. You are not in this alone. I will do my best to help you with the others. They have lost their way and you cannot take on their burdens by yourself. Do not be afraid to lean on me, brother. I will support you,” Zacharael had meant the vow, or so Alazar had believed.
The vow was made in desperation upon hearing the latest delay, but it had given Alazar renewed strength. He had allowed the Angel of Desire to fill his mind with hope and his body with passion. Now, no less than twelve hours had passed since the vow had been uttered, and it seemed that Zacharael’s words were nothing more than a lie to feel a moment’s passing pleasure. Alazar had been an idiot to listen to his brother’s hollow promises. Desire only cared about himself and his next high. Lucifer understood Zacharael’s weakness and it seemed the devil had finally exploited it. Lucifer was his new Master now and Alazar was indeed alone with no ally in sight.
Alazar tugged at his black hair as he contemplated the sad state of
the Predznak. If they could no longer rely on each other, how could their Master believe that they could follow her and fulfill their duties when she was ready to end the world? The real reason that their Master had refused to come became apparent in a blinding moment of clarity. She did not want them. Who would, aside from Lucifer? None of them were capable of getting through a single night without betraying another. She had waited too long and now it was too late. The Predznak were beyond repair.
Alazar realized that his worst fear had come true. The Destroyer wanted them to remain in Hell, in their prison cells. She would not have to deal with them as long as Lucifer reigned over them and Serena kept them distracted. She was probably planning to allow Lucifer to take them as his servants, so that she could start over with new angels. The new Predznak would be loyal to her and not teetering on the edge of becoming completely evil.
They were all sitting in Hell, stupidly believing Gabriel’s apologies, complacent and docile, while the evil slowly battered their minds so that Lucifer could force them into submission. The Predznak would have to stay in Hell for eternity serving Lucifer.
When they had arrived in Hell, they were the ones in charge. They told Lucifer what to do. Lucifer feared them so he let them do as they pleased, but over time, the Predznak had become depressed and despondent without their Master to guide them. The evils of Hell eroded their minds and consumed them. Their resistance slipped away and apathy set in. Lucifer took advantage of their altered states. He preyed upon their weakness and manipulated them in their diminished condition, until he practically ruled them. Alazar had remained stronger than the rest, but he couldn’t protect the others all the time. He too had started to suffer from the darkness that permeated Hell. It was only a matter of time before Lucifer broke their minds and crushed their resistance so that they would willingly take him as their rightful Master.
Alazar’s fevered brain envisioned what life would be like if they stayed and were forced to do Lucifer’s bidding. Being bound to Lucifer, they would become helpless puppets that bowed to his every urge like Aganon and Lucifer’s other servants, or worse. They would be chained to the walls, locked in Celestial Bonds, with no means of escape. They would be trapped.
He turned and looked at his stained glass window, pondering the image. It depicted the sun rising over the clouds as dusk turned into morning. He had witnessed the real thing every day while in Heaven. He had commissioned it to remind him of who he was, or at least, who he used to be. He was no longer the angel that stood at the edge of Heaven watching the sun rise, ready to rejoice in a new day. That version of him was dead, replaced by someone who no longer cared about sunrises or new beginnings, someone consumed with the finality of things. He was too busy tempting the mortals to end their lives, or the lives of those around them, to stare up at the sky with wonder and awe.
Stepping up to the window, he looked out over the Realms of Torture, places that he knew intimately. It was time to take a stand. He refused to stay. If he didn’t leave this foul place, then he would end up like Zacharael, a lap dog to Lucifer. The thought burned in his mind and lit a fire inside of him. He needed to take control of his own destiny and decide what he wanted. His Master and the Council be damned, he needed to start thinking and acting for himself.
He sat on the windowsill, as he had countless times before, but this time he contemplated his future, without his Master and without the Predznak.
∞
“Alazar, you are not in your right mind. Think this through. The Council will hunt you down and kill you for failing to obey them. The Predznak must wait for the Destroyer in Hell. If you abandon your post, you will be going against their orders,” Lucifer’s threat was cold and calculating. It was a low blow for him to quote anything the Council said, given that he hated them as much as Alazar did.
Alazar avoided eye contact with Elrick, Sacha, Rayan, Aeries, Solren, Haydn, Tristan, Balthazar, and most of all, Zacharael, as they looked at him questioningly. He hadn’t told any of the Predznak that he was planning to leave, though he doubted any of them would be stupid enough to stay, even if threatened by the Council. Any one of them could take on the Celestial Warriors, along with Michael, and live to see another day. They didn’t need Alazar’s protection. If he were being honest with himself, he needed protection from them most days.
Ignoring the Predznak, Alazar waited for Lucifer to make his move. Lucifer looked like a tyrant lording over them from his Skull Throne as the fire from the massive and intimidating fireplace roared behind him. He stared down from his marble dais at Alazar with his black uncaring eyes, which only fueled Alazar’s anger. The former Morningstar, Alazar’s brother, was actively trying to destroy the Predznak for his own selfish purposes and the Council was complacently allowing it.
Alazar wasn’t upset that Lucifer and he were not friends since they had never gotten along in Heaven. The little tattletale loved telling Father about Alazar’s less than holy activities, but he had never actually hurt him. Now the devil was looking at him with disdain, trying to decide how he wanted to respond to Alazar’s announcement that he was leaving Hell. Lucifer could very well order his Fallen Angels to take him into custody and charge him with abandoning his post, along with any Predznak who joined him. Given Lucifer’s amused posture and smirk, it was entirely possible that Lucifer would let him walk right out the door, though Alazar doubted it.
Alazar quickly assessed the occupants of the Throne Room to determine the best plan of action if a fight did ensue. The two other Heads of Hell, Hades to Lucifer’s right, and Serena to his left would pose a problem, but he was confident that they could be subdued. Lucifer’s servants Aganon and Hector, who were hovering behind his throne, would be easy enough to deal with. Azazel, Lucifer’s Lead Punisher, would be a pleasure to maim. He had suffered often in the realms under Azazel’s orders. Dmitri, Reese, and Vaughn, positioned in front of the dais, were worthy adversaries, but they were used to punishing helpless mortals or capturing them when they tried to escape. It had been a long time since any of them had fought someone stronger than a false god or a Rogue Angel. Crevan, the Head Guard of the Hall of Shadows, could present a problem, since it was likely that Crevan would drag him and shackle him in the Hall of Shadows for the rest of eternity. While he was prepared to fight his way out, he knew that Hell would never survive a fight between the Fallen and the Predznak.
The Fallen Angels were a force to be reckoned with, mired in darkness with no positive emotions left in them. They were the punishers of the damned souls in Hell and they undeniably had fighting skills, but they were no match for the deadliest angels ever created. The Predznak weren’t created to punish mortals or to sit upon high and rule over the masses, like the Heavenly Angels. The Predznak were the Harbingers of the Bringer of the Apocalypse, the angels who tempted the mortals who had failed to choose a path for themselves, the path of good or the path of evil. The Predznak would force them to make a decision during the end of days, and send them to their final destination, Heaven or Hell.
The Predznak carried inside of them the power to persuade mortals to commit the worst sins. Deception turned the mortals against each other, instead of rising above the lies they told. Desire clouded their minds and made them obsess over petty things instead of focusing on living a good life. Vengeance was the mantra uttered by the wicked seeking retribution against their enemies rather than forgiving them. Agony crippled those too weak to rise above their misery. Fear made them forget rational thought and rush into dangerous situations. Anger inspired them to hate each other and start wars rather than choosing to live in peace and harmony. Hunger forced them to fight for their personal needs instead of sharing with their fellow man and taking care of each other. Illness drove the sanity from the mortal minds too weak to withstand it. Distrust manipulated them to fight against their loved ones when they should rely upon them. Then of course, Death persuaded them to commit murder and end their miserable existences by their own hand, instead of fighting for the prec
ious gift of life that God had granted them.
While they had been created to tempt the mortals, they could easily use their power against anyone with a soul, even the tarnished souls of the Fallen Angels. Their abilities, coupled with their fighting prowess, made them unstoppable. No one survived when they went up against a Predznak, though most were not stupid enough to engage them in battle.
Lucifer watched passively as the ten angels before him looked to their leader for the final decision. He was happy to see the Predznak leave his Hell, but was annoyed because he had plans for them, which included watching them destroy the world as they unleashed their collective power. The problem was that they were impossible to control. They were unruly, undisciplined, and a complete pain in the ass. He’d been optimistic about Alazar and his band of misfits when they had first arrived, but none of them knew how to play well with others or take orders.
“I am done with the Council’s orders and I will never bow to you, Lucifer. I have waited long enough in this abysmal hole. The Destroyer is not coming. I have accepted that. The Council cannot expect us to wait any longer. They have ignored us for too long. Once I find Gabriel, I’m going to force him to tell me the location of the Destroyer, and then I am going to confront my would-be Master. I am done putting up with your treatment of us. We have suffered because of you and your little psychopath Serena for too long. I am leaving,” Alazar decreed. “If the rest of the Predznak want to stay, then they are your problem.”
“Good luck finding the Destroyer, Alazar. Gabriel will defend her with his dying breath,” Lucifer chuckled. He knew all too well that Gabriel would never give up his daughter’s location. Anjali was quite safe from Death. Gabriel was a fierce warrior who could handle the likes of Alazar, easily.
“Then he will die and I will find her on my own,” Alazar smiled. He was looking forward to taking his wrath out on the protector of the Destroyer. He knew that his Master would not be able to hide for long if Gabriel were dead.
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