by May Dawson
Chosen Angels
May Dawson
Contents
Untitled
Prologue
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
A Note From May
About the Author
Also by May Dawson
A NOTE FROM ELLIS:
WHAT CAME BEFORE
It’s been a long, wild ride, so let’s review: I met Ryker and Levi after my mom abandoned me to a reform school for weirdos with supernatural gifts. The boys and I fought our way out of the haunted insane asylum where we were trapped. And I fell for them. Hard. For Levi, the cold-hearted killer with a heart of gold. For Ryker, protective and warm and dangerous. Turns out I’m the reincarnation of the first woman, Lilith, fated by God to try life out over and over again until I get it right. But I don’t have to survive in a world where demons want to murder me alone; into every generation, four men are born who each possess one of an angel’s powers.
Once we escaped, I met their long-lost, half-angel brother, Jacob Kerr. Jacob was wary of the supernatural, and he acted like a total asshole at first. Jacob and I were determined to break the spell that bound us. But Fate won’t be fooled with. We found ourselves captured by demons. Within the slick, bloody walls of a demon’s case, I discovered Jacob’s past, from being tortured as a child Nephilim to growing up hidden from his own brothers. I learned his dark secrets and he learned mine, and we found our strength in each other.
When one of the demons, Samael, realized that I am the Lilith, he tried to murder me. One of our jailers, the half-demon Nimshi, killed Samael to protect me. We realized Nimshi was the Fourth brother we had searched for, the one who held the key to traveling into the Far—but my boys were reluctant to trust a demon. Jacob remains haunted by the timing of Nimshi’s birth, around nine months after their mother managed to rescue young Jacob from the demons.
Nimshi, Ryker, Levi, Jacob and I tried to steal back Nimshi’s soul, with the help of Nimshi’s adopted sister, the witch Dani. But Jacob’s angel father, Zuriel, came back first to help us, and then to kill us for protecting Nim. Nimshi died protecting us all. He never needed a soul to be human.
Angels appeared and zapped Zuriel out of there, a few seconds too late; the angels told us that fighting Zuriel wasn’t our battle. We feel pretty lonely in the day-to-day, but I guess Heaven really is on our side. In the chaos that followed, escaping the last battle with the Company, we lost Dani, and we haven’t been able to find her again.
We came home to bury our Nimshi. His Immortal body will stay young, frozen in time, until the rest of us pass away, in yet another grave in the woods.We’ve spent our days trying to find a way into the Far without him and trying to find a way to bring him back. According to the Mythos, a Final blade not only ends a life, but untethers a soul from the world so it can never return. Eve in the Far itself, a soul struck by a Final blade came to an end forever. God revoked the angels’ rights to carry Final blades, in the Far and here on Earth. Even angels could not be trusted with so much power. But a stray Final blade stuck down Nim, and now we don’t know if he’s in Heaven or Hell or simply gone. But we have to find answers.
Olivia, our hacker friend, lives with us now. Olivia’s brothers, the McKennas, tried to force her to abandon us. Because we’ve gotten mixed up with demons, we’re ‘dirty’ now. No Hunters will help us. It doesn’t matter; all I need are my boys.
But I need all my boys.I miss Nimshi so much. No one else may have been able to see the good in Nimshi for a long time, but I know him.
I love him.
His brothers love him, even though they’re not exactly the type to say so.
We don’t know what happened to his soul after he was struck with the Final blade. What happened to Nimshi. But we’re going to find out.
We were born to storm the gates of Hell.
Prologue
Nimshi
Samael didn’t make eye contact with me as he wandered around the chamber. I knew all these games, so I don’t know why he bothered. He pretended to be intent on the tools of his trade, going through his inventory slowly, sorting out shiny blade from shiny blade.
At least I could feel honored that I’m in a single cell, not out in General with the folks writhing in the flames. Samael wanted to savor my torture.
I suppose that’s to be expected when you murder a demon.
Did Hedron know I was in here? Did he care?
What about my brothers? The last time I saw Ryker, he had a look written across his face like he was going to murder me himself. Levi’s nostrils had flared, fury in those icy blue eyes. But they had thought I’d murdered Jacob. It was just a ruse to try to get Ellis and my brothers out of danger. Now if they knew, did they care if I rotted in Hell? Or did they still think of me as nothing but a demon?
A rescue mission would be a stupid idea. I didn’t want them to be stupid; I didn’t want them to die here. But part of me kept imagining the door flying open, my brothers piling in, swords in hand, to cut down any demon that gets between them and their long-lost little brother.
My eyes swiveled toward the door. It was a simple stained wooden door, nothing fancy—it wasn’t doors that held people in Hell—and it did not burst open.
But that was fine. Everything was fine. All I had to do was endure.
I grew up sun-side, but I made all the contacts I could down here. I had friends. Hedron himself might be loyal to me, or he might just be offended that Samael dared to string me up on this devil’s cross. I would make it out of here. I just had to stay sane long enough in the face of all the pain to plan my escape.
“So, tell me about Ellis.” Samael turned toward me. It was hard to tell what glinted more wickedly, the scalpel in his hand or the shine in his eerie light blue eyes.
It didn’t matter if I talked or not. This was going to get bloody.
“Do you want to hear about how I killed her?” Samael asked. “Or how I’m going to kill her again?”
“I’d just as soon you started cutting,” I said. “Your voice is so shrill. Especially when you talk about Ellis.”
It’s hard to pull up a good quip sometimes when your face is a mask trying to hide the fear. Because no matter how tough you may be, you fear torture and pain. That’s just…human.
So I made the bad human joke, channeling Ryker’s simple profanity: “You sound like such a little bitch when you talk about her.”
Samael just smiled.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, trying to remember the sound of Ellis’ voice: the way it was soft and sweeter than you’d expect, the way it drops to a whisper when she has something to say that s
he thinks is cheesy, as she puts it. The way she smells, like a warm summer day, the smell of sun heating the grass, and honeysuckle on the breeze, and the faintest scent of salt coming off the ocean. The way her lips parted against mine like she loved me and the way she slammed me into the wall of that haunted house like she wanted me.
I knew I was about to forget everything about the past. I was going to forget everything good. All that would exist was this moment, a terrible moment of agony that felt like it would never end. But I tried so hard to find every detail again while I could.
Samael’s footfalls crossed slowly, ominously, across the room toward me.
Chapter 1
"Are you sure you're up for this?" Ryker asked.
When I turned to meet his gaze, the sun flashing low over the stone buildings through the car windows blinded me for a second. It made his handsome, high-boned face look all the more dazzling.
"I thought we'd established by now that I'm as crazy as you are," I said.
He grinned. His deep green eyes crinkled at the corners, and he tucked a strand of hair back behind my ears, the gesture quick and fond. "Crazier."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You better." One corner of his kissable lips quirked up. "That's how I meant it."
Jacob turned the wheel, bumping my Lexus over the curb and into the alleyway that led back toward Turner's hideout.
"I feel like I should ask you if you’re all right with this too," Levi said to Jacob. "But I'm not going to pet your hair."
"Then I'm not going to answer you." Jacob's broad, scarred hands were quick and sure on the wheel. A vein corded along his inner wrist toward his wide thumb and stood out from the powerful muscles of his forearms. His usual leather bracelet was shoved up tight on his forearm, below where the sleeves of his button-down were folded back. Only Jacob would wear a button-down shirt when we were hunting down the man who had sold us to be tortured by demons.
We’d tried to go into the Far without Nim, and failed. We’d dug up Nim’s body and tried to resurrect him, even though the Mythos said it was impossible, and failed. We hoped Turner might have answers for us, something we hadn’t found in our long nights studying the Mythos since we lost Nim.
I still felt gutted with Nim’s loss, as if it couldn't be real, as if we were about to wake up from the nightmare where we lost the Fourth. We had searched for him so long. And when we found him, he was mischievous and charming and dangerous. His eyes were flecked with gold and silver and his heart was flecked with damage.
He'd never really needed his soul, but he had been willing to die for it. For us.
For the hundredth time in the past few days, I brushed my fingers over Nimshi’s mark on my arm. The mark I’d bitched about. The mark I was still going to bitch about if I ever managed to get him back where I could push him against a wall, shake my finger in his face for daring to mark my body without permission, and then when he was properly contrite, slam him into the wall for entirely different reasons.
I’d whispered his name over and over, but he never answered me.
"Stay with us." Ryker rested his hand on my knee. In the front, Levi and Jacob were already getting out of the car. Their sheathed swords hung from their broad shoulders. "You need to be on. No daydreaming."
"I wasn't daydreaming." I said flatly.
Ryker hesitated. One car door slammed shut, and then the other. He said in a rush, "I'm sad about Nim too."
"We'll break him out," I promised.
I had no idea if we could really steal our lost Fourth back from the Far. We didn’t even know if he was really there, or if he had blinked out of existence when he was struck with the Final blade. But we were going to find him. That was why we'd come back to a threshold neither Jacob nor I wanted to cross.
Ryker nodded back. His eyes were clouded with the same doubts I had, but he patted my knee and twisted to get out of the car.
I took a deep breath and got out of the car too. We were parked in the alleyway outside Turner's store, in Washington, D.C.
The other time I'd come here, Jacob and I had been gassed, kidnapped, and then tortured by demons.
"Time for Turner to make things up to us." Jacob's fingers twitched slightly on his sword hand, as if he longed to draw his weapon.
I glanced down the alleyway toward the street beyond, which was crowded with people and cars. This alley was shielded by Turner's magic. No matter what happened, no one would see us.
I had waited in this alley with Jacob, the rain misting my hair, while he stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a smug challenge on his face. I'd been doing my best not to fall for him. He'd been doing his best to be easy for me to resist, acting like a sullen jerk. Despite myself, I'd secretly longed to take his powerful, tattooed forearms in my hands and tug his arms away from his chest. I had longed to make him open up to me. To make him wrap his arms around me and tell me his secrets.
Luckily for us, the time in the demon's case had turned out to be a hell of an icebreaker.
I glanced up at him, wondering if he was remembering too. "Last time we had to wait until he opened the door."
"This time we don't have to be so polite." Jacob said grimly.
At the end of the street, a flash of gold drew my eye. I tried to focus on it, but it was already gone. Just a reflection, maybe?
My heart beat quicker in my chest, anyway, as if my subconscious knew there something wrong with that bright flicker.
I felt Ryker move in close to my side, ready to defend me. Levi strode past us to the door, carrying a metal breeching ram. He carried it easily despite the size of the massive metal tube, which he gripped by two handles.
Ryker drew his 9mm and nodded to Levi.
Levi slammed the ram into the door at the knob. The door splintered inward as the latch was destroyed. Levi immediately stepped to one side, out of the way.
Ryker and Jacob went in fast. The two of them covered the room with their 9mms, looking for Turner.
"Clear," Jacob called.
Levi dropped the ram in the doorway and offered his hand to me like he was ushering me into a ball. I stepped into the room ahead of him. It was the same room where Turner had played his tricks the first day we met him. His apothecary cabinet was in the corner, but the dozens of little wooden drawers stood open. Empty baskets were tossed all over the room instead of being neatly on the shelves with the glass bottles.
"Looks like someone was in a hurry to get out of here." Ryker swore.
Levi jerked his head at Jacob. "Who wouldn't be, if they thought this guy was coming after him? Let's split up and clear the house."
I headed with Levi for the doorway to the left. Ryker and Jacob headed toward the other doorway, the one that led to the snug library where we'd been gassed. The memory of how I'd leaned in to breathe in Turner's poison, expecting some charming bit of magic, made my cheeks flush. This wasn't Harry Potter.
I wished this was Harry Potter. What I'd learned so far was that magic was trouble, and taming it was hard work. It was work that didn't come easily to me, no matter how gifted I was supposed to be.
Levi and I went down a long, narrow hall. This was an old D.C. building, and the air smelled like dry rot and stale wood. At the end of the hall there were two doors. Levi reached out and tried the first; it was locked. He took a step back, bracing his hands on either side of the door frame, and kicked the door in hard.
The door splintered open at the latch and swung back on its hinges.
He went in fast, clearing the room, but it was white and empty. Windows at the end of the room looked out into the brick face of a building so close Levi could lean out and touch it.
I reached over my shoulder and drew my sword from the sheath. I twisted my body so I could hold the sword in my right hand and take the door knob in my left. The boys had taken me shooting, but I was more comfortable with the sword. Slightly more comfortable.
I felt Levi behind me, the size and warmth of his pre
sence. I half expected him to shoulder me out of the way.
He rested his hand on my shoulder. "Right behind you."
I nodded. Adrenaline flooded my body, but I still felt a glow of warmth in my chest that came from him trusting me.
I turned the knob, throwing my shoulder into the door, and burst into an empty stairwell. Worn wooden stairs led up.
Levi glanced up them and then turned to me, raising a lip to his fingers. He mouthed, "I'll take the lead if you don't mind, sweet girl."
He didn't wait for me to answer. He began to creep up the stairs, moving steathily despite his broad shoulders and muscular body.
But hey, it was progress. The boys weren't being quite as overprotective as they had been.
Levi twisted so he could see the landing behind him as he reached the top of the stairs. He set one foot on the landing and then, without looking at me, beckoned me to come up too.
I quietly ran up the stairs. He stepped aside at the top of the stairs so I could join him.
We stood in a long storage room crowded with bookcases and boxes and knick-knacks, books, armor, and God-only-knew-what. There might have been a door on the other side of the room, but the piles of junk blocked our view.
Levi inclined his head to the right, and then moved quickly to the left. I crept down the right side of the room. I lost sight of Levi as I stepped into the labyrinth of boxes and shelves.
A pile of things on a shelf drew my eye. A balled-up blanket on top of a stack of books looked almost like a man, and it reminded me of when I'd been in this building before. I'd thought that I saw a man, in the darkness of Turner's shopfront, but it had been an illusion. Turner had popped up on my right.
