Sins of Angels (The Complete Collection)

by Larkin, Matt

  “Oh no, sir,” she said, eyes sparkling. “I would never dare sarcasm. I’m positively overwhelmed by the chance to have my skin boiled by toxic gasses.”

  David smirked. The atmosphere wasn’t nearly that bad, and even if it were, her suit would protect her. “That mouth of yours must get you in a lot of trouble, lass.”

  “Yes, sir.” She pushed a button to call a lift. “I get into all kinds of trouble with my mouth. One time I—”

  The lift whooshed open. “Might want to keep it to yourself, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes sir, I do have trouble keeping my mouth to myself.”

  David snickered and stepped into the lift. It carried them down to the hangar, where he selected a shuttle. Phoebe strapped herself into the co-pilot’s seat while he did a quick preflight check.

  He caught a glimpse of a breather in her hand. She must have pulled it from the storage locker in the back of the shuttle.

  “You won’t need that until we get there.”

  “Better to have it early than late,” she said.

  Indeed.

  “Cleared for launch,” the computer voice told him.

  David eased the throttle, and the shuttle accelerated down the launch tube, a series of airlock doors opening and closing as they passed. The shuttle shot forward into space above the planet. If the thing had looked sick from the bridge of the Logos, from a shuttle it seemed positively putrid.

  “Why would anyone want to live on that?” Phoebe asked.

  “I doubt they do. Of course, some people probably ask the same thing about your world. Ekron, right?”

  “Yup, yup. My own little shiny ball of ice.”

  He smiled a bit. He’d spent a bit of time with Phoebe since coming on board, but maybe not as much as he should have. She was a senior officer, and a talented one. She was four years his junior, so they’d been at the Sentinel Academy together, but not for long, and he didn’t remember seeing her.

  When he’d introduced himself on the Logos, though, she said she knew who he was. “Big shot senior and all,” she’d said.

  “The captain sure seems eager to get whatever we’re here for,” she said. “Not that I need to know. I mean, clearly there would be no benefit to telling your partner the aim of the mission. Don’t worry, I’ve got a pulse pistol, an electrolaser, and eyes to die for. I’m prepared for a fight, a dance, or any combination thereof.”

  Aye, she was right. “The Sefer Raziel. The captain thinks it’s on this planet, and that it will give the Empire the edge it needs against Asherah.”

  Phoebe pursed her lips together. “Oooo. So is it?”

  “Aye, maybe.” He piloted the shuttle into the atmosphere, the thick fumes making it almost impossible to get a visual. He could fly by instruments with the best of them, but he hated doing it.

  “And here I thought you were just looking for a chance to ask me to dance.” She had this odd habit of staring right into your eyes when she talked. “Oh well. Captain has always had some serious rage leveled at Asherah.”

  “Aye. He’s not the only one.”

  “So your mother was captain of the Balthazar.”

  Subtle. “Aye, lass.”

  “Care to share your version? I was pretty young. Not that I ever played with dolls or anything. Icicles maybe, to stab my brothers. But not dolls.”

  David had been young, too. Eleven. “The details are still classified. But I can say the Balthazar was the first ship to encounter a Leviathan. Asherah had just started pushing at its borders, and no one saw it coming after so long a period of isolation. Mum must have tried to communicate with them, but something went wrong. The Leviathan tore the Balthazar to pieces. Mum tried to escape and was driven into a black hole. Lost the whole ship, whole crew.”

  “People blamed her.”

  Aye. People always blamed her for the way things started back then. The tension, the shame. She should have fought harder, done more. That’s what Sentinel gossip said.

  “Must have been tough, being a Sentinel with that hanging over you, huh?”

  David scratched his head. “We all have our demons, lass.”

  “Yup.”

  He landed on the edge of the planet’s largest city. They didn’t really have any intel on where Rachel had gone. “This is going to take some digging.”

  Phoebe pressed on her breather and hefted her pulse pistol. “I brought my shovel.”

  David rose and opened the shuttle door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  October 8th, 3096 EY

  The Lazarus Group had some uncanny insight into Angel symbology. Even as an Angelologist, their research leaves me in awe. It is only a matter of time. I can almost taste the wonders of creation unfolding before me.

  Rachel matched another of the symbols to the Lazarus Group’s notes. If this represented a galaxy, then… She cross-referenced her new findings.

  “Knight…” Was it possible? Could this really be?

  “Hmm.”

  “I think I have it…” If that was really meant to be Gehenna… Rachel felt lightheaded, as if the Undercity spun around her. “I think I know where the Angels hid the Ark.”

  “Swell.” He stood and stretched. “Can we call your QI friend and get the void out of here now?”

  Swell? Angels above! This was the biggest discovery in the history of… ever. And all he had to say was swell? “Do you understand what this means, Knight?”

  “It means you and I can finally get off this rock.”

  True. There would be time for celebration later. “Yeah. We have to get to the moon. We need to get somewhere with Mazzaroth access and then—” Something was wrong. A jumble of emotions assaulted her. Hostility, roiling waves of it. So many minds, all bent on harm. A throbbing built behind her eyes. “Knight, they’re coming.”

  “Shit.” He pulled his sword from his coat. “You remember the way back to the bazaar?”

  She nodded. Probably. They’d gone there once to grab some food.

  “Then go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Knight dashed through the doorway and was gone into the shadows. And then a shout rang through the tunnels, echoing.

  Rachel ran. The floor was slick, the tunnels dark, but her eyes had adjusted days before. Gunfire rang down the hall. The muzzle flash of a MAG rifle illuminated a pair of soldiers across the way and the wall behind her exploded in a shower of rock and metal as slugs tore the tunnel to pieces.

  She was screaming, she realized, as she threw herself onto the ground.

  The other soldier tried to fire and his MAG exploded. The detonation nearly blinded her, and flung both soldiers into the mass of sewage. Angels above. Knight refused to use a MAG with good reason, it seemed.

  Slick grime covered her palms as she pushed herself up. A mad scramble for the acid scrubbers. Beyond those the bazaar would offer some shelter.

  A Gibborim stood in front of her, advancing with sword drawn. Rachel skittered to a stop a meter in front of the acid scrubber jet. Her throat was dry. She raised her trembling hands over her head in surrender.

  The Sefer. These Gibborim worked for Jericho. She could not allow them to get the book. No matter what. If Jericho got the Ark, it could bring the Mizraim Empire to its knees.

  The man in black advanced, eyes grim and—Rachel swore—glimmering in the darkness. “Hands behind your back.”

  She did as she was told, turning around and stepping away from him.

  Her mind tingled with his steady approach. Anger. Rage seeped off him like wisps of steam.

  She had no choice. She had to get the Sefer off this planet. Everything depended on it.

  The acid scrubber fired. The impact sent the man flying across the way. A heartrending shriek escaped him for an instant, then it became a bloody gurgle.

  Rachel whimpered, covering her head with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

  As soon as the jet died, she ran on, toward the bazaar. As she reached it her feet slipped out from under her. More soldiers filled
the room, and one turned a MAG rifle on the crowd. He opened fire, a stream of magnetic slugs ripped people, shanties, and the tunnel itself to shreds.

  Rachel landed hard on her back, her leg twisted up under her. With a groan, she turned, trying to head back into the tunnel. These people were being slaughtered, but she couldn’t do anything for them. Behind her, down the tunnel, a Gibborim woman stood in the darkness, mono sword in hand, Iota insignia.

  No. Not now. Not after everything. She had it. She had it!

  And then Knight appeared behind Iota. He fell to his knees and skidded on the ground. His sword cut right through her waist. A geyser of blood exploded from the sickening wound and Iota’s torso toppled away from her legs.

  Bile scorched Rachel’s throat. Then she vomited.

  By the time she looked up, Knight was on his feet and had disappeared behind some shanties. Next thing she knew he was flying over them, throwing knives soaring into the soldier shooting the crowd.

  A knife caught the man in the neck, and he fell, spraying rounds in a wild arc.

  One must have struck Knight, because he jerked in midair, spun at an unnatural angle, and landed crooked.

  Rachel scrambled over to him. “Knight!” Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t be dead. She would not lose him, not now. She’d gotten him into this mess.

  He coughed, pushing himself up. “I’m okay. Nanomesh took it. Just run!” Thank God. Rachel grabbed him and yanked him to his feet.

  Another Gibborim dropped from somewhere in the pipes above, this one marked with Kappa. She had a kyoketsu like Knight’s and whipped it in an arc. Knight shoved Rachel aside and bent back to dodge, whipping out his own kyoketsu.

  The two engaged in an intricate dance, each barely evading the lightning-fast strikes of the other. Knight flipped through the air, butterfly kicking over her low swing, and bringing his knife down on the head of a charging soldier.

  Rachel made a dash for a shanty and dove behind it. She glanced out, seeing Knight still engaged with the Gibborim. He couldn’t give her his full attention because more soldiers were pouring into the bazaar. Civilians had crowded in corners whimpering, crying.

  Another Gibborim dropped down, flinging knives at Knight. He dodged each, but his opponents were nearly as fast as he was.

  The soldier shooting the crowd had had a working MAG rifle. Rachel ran for the MAG and dove to the floor. She snatched the rifle and twisted around, opening fire on the soldiers filing into the bazaar.

  A MAG round tore right through one soldier’s helmet. A half dozen rounds took another soldier in the chest. The Gehennan troops leapt for cover. Rachel followed suit, scurrying back behind the shanty.

  It would never withstand a MAG round, but if they couldn’t see her, they couldn’t aim. She leaned out and a shot nearly took her head off. Her blood raged in her veins. Every nerve was on fire. She screamed, firing blindly in the direction the shots had come from.

  “Rachel!” Knight shouted.

  She eased off the trigger and peeked her head out. Knight had cut down one Gibborim. He’d pinned Kappa’s arm with one knee and her throat with another. “Run! That way!” He indicated away from where they had come, the other side of the bazaar, retracted his whip-knife, and slid the blade through his victim’s face.

  Rachel grimaced and took off running. More shots rang out behind her. A lance impacted the wall beside her and stuck there. The shriek died in her throat and she dashed around the corner.

  Angels, Angels! If they took the Sefer, sooner or later they’d crack it. God, maybe even letting her brother have it would have been better.

  Heartbeats later, Knight was beside her, pulling her along. More soldiers appeared in front of them. Knight plowed into them before they even realized he was there. “Go! Out the hatch!”

  Back to the streets?

  But the Undercity was obviously not going to shelter them any longer. Rachel ran, twice losing her footing and colliding with the wall, once almost tumbling into the river of sewage.

  Holy shit.

  She ran until her heart felt like it would give out. And then she kept running.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  If Knight has not violated the First Commandment, I am left still considering the possibility, however remote, that his ancestors may have indeed been subjected to Angel experiments to create the legendary twelfth race, the Nephilim… Is it possible? Could they have truly tried to unlock the entirety of human potential in a single bloodline?

  Caleb didn’t exactly enjoy reports. He liked people. Well, he liked women, anyway. Much, much more than he should. He glanced again at his wife’s picture, rather than focus on Rebekah’s lips as she read to him about trade numbers throughout Andromeda. It was the largest galaxy in the Local Group, the heart of the Mizraim Empire, and the biggest chance at profit for any corporation—it boasted a hundred thousand inhabited worlds. So even though Caleb’s offices remained in the Milky Way, he had to listen to endless reports about Andromeda.

  Rebekah Norris had the voice of a siren. Pure, silky, sensual. And she would be so nubile. He’d have her soon, he could see it in her eyes. The way they dilated when he looked at her like that. He could see the slight flaring of her nostrils. Eyes like his saw so much more than a normal person’s.

  He shouldn’t feel guilty, right? Most people didn’t even believe in marriage these days. It was just the Third Commandment, that was all. Just the need to spread his DNA… No. His wife was a wonderful woman and he…

  His screen flashed with an incoming call. Sarah Radison.

  Caleb shut his eyes, trying to calm his mind. He swallowed hard. “That’s enough for now, Rebekah. I’ll call for you in a bit.” They had so many things to go over. Deeply…

  He shook his head again, and his assistant left. “Receive call.”

  Sarah’s face appeared, her eyes taut, her mouth stern. The woman should have learned to use her sensuality. Caleb found the bitter wretch routine even more annoying in women than men. Maybe because he was twice as likely to fire men for it, so he had to put up with it longer from women. “There are Sentinels on Gehenna!” she snapped.

  Caleb nodded. That answered that. He’d known they would show up sooner or later, he was just hoping it would be later.

  “You knew? Why wasn’t I told?”

  “So you could do what, exactly, Sarah?” Caleb chewed his thumb. “Prepare for them? Offer them a welcome party? Focus on the goal.”

  “I can do my job best when I have all the information.”

  “I’ll decide what you need to know, my dear. Now be a good girl and get me my Sefer.”

  Her face simmered with such rage Caleb could barely hide his smirk. It was far too easy to get under her skin, and her vitriolic nature almost demanded he do so at every opportunity. “And the Sentinels?” she growled through clenched teeth.

  “Don’t shoot first.” Indeed, probably not a good idea to shoot at Sentinels at all. In fact, he was glad he wasn’t on that planet. Jericho Corp might be outside their jurisdiction, at least officially, but the bastards were volatile, pushy, and a little too damn good at their jobs. They were people who took themselves a bit too seriously. “But don’t let them stop you, either.”

  “Brilliant, Caleb. I’m supposed to keep them out of the way without actually engaging them?”

  He shrugged. “Pretty much. Can’t handle the job?”

  Sarah looked away at something. “I can handle anything. My best agent is closing in on the traitor. We expect to have him dead, and the Jordan girl in custody, within the hour.”

  Caleb grinned. Now that was what he liked to hear. “I knew I could count on you, my dear.” Of course, he’d had his doubts, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’ll be sending a ship to meet you. Be prepared to hand over both Jordan and the Sefer. No more surprises.”

  “And if the Sentinels do interfere?” she said, then spread her hands.

  “I guess you’ll find out just how effective your new and improved Gibbor
im are. If the Sentinels cannot be redirected without violence, then make sure no one lives to report back to the Empire. We don’t want any questions.”

  Dead Sentinels would raise questions, but if it came to violence, that couldn’t be helped. And with the Sefer Raziel, the board would likely support him against the Empire.

  “By the way, how are the reflex enhancers working?”

  Sarah nodded. “I gave you a report.”

  “I’m sure you did.” He chewed his thumb and waited for her to elaborate. If there was a report, Rebekah hadn’t gotten around to reading it to him yet. And he rarely bothered reading reports himself. Unless something was dire, or needed to be concealed even from her.

  “Mixed results. All subjects exhibited increased reaction speed, but only a handful reached the potential we hoped for. It’s possible some subjects are simply more suited to the implants than others, but further tests and refinements will be needed to be sure.”

  “Good. Good. Well then, carry on. Mazzaroth off.”

  The screen cut out. Part of him wished he could see the trials live. But vid recordings of such experiments were moronic. Shame though, since the new Gibborim might put even Sentinels to shame when it came to hand-to-hand.

  It would have been a pleasure to watch.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  And yet, preternatural reflexes aside, Knight matches none of the known reports of Angel capabilities. They were supposed to be masters of all four known psionic disciplines—empathy, telepathy, ESP, and even telekinesis, the rarest of psionic gifts. Yet Knight isn’t a Psych at all.

  The hoverbike shot out of the alley, Rachel clinging to Knight’s waist. Sirens flared above them. Over the horizon, a hover carrier closed in, spotlights sweeping the streets.

  Everything happened so fast she could barely think. It was like the Gehennans had thrown the entire military against her. And why not? Whoever had the Ark had the power to control the destiny of mankind, if stories could be believed.