Angelbound THRAX

by Christina Bauer

  One of the guards steps forward. “We knew the second you said the passcode phrase. It’s good to have you back, Your Majesty.”

  Octavia turns to me. “And Myla! I never thought I’d see you again. You can’t imagine the grief that’s been going through the after-realms. I didn’t want to tell anyone when you showed up in the Pulpitum… It would be cruel to get their hopes up only to find out you weren’t you.” She rushes over and gives me a full hug as well. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you both back.” Her voice actually breaks, which is a big display of emotion for Octavia.

  I hug her back, and with that, I decide that I should definitely buy a lottery ticket. The only thing that’s more rare than an enemy not attacking is an emotional outburst from Octavia.

  “I missed you, my dear.” Octavia rocks from foot to foot. “It’s nothing but mindless ninnies around here without you. And you’re parents have been frantic. Well,” she taps her chin. “They were frantic until recently. Did you father by any chance get information about your healthy status before we discovered the truth?”

  I shake my head. Octavia is smart as a whip. “They did.” Octavia opens her mouth to ask a million questions, but I raise my palm to silence her. “It’s a story for another day, though.”

  “You know you won’t avoid telling me the entire tale,” says Octavia. “I can be very persuasive.”

  Lincoln’s face turns total deadpan. “You don’t say.”

  I start to laugh, but my chortle gets cut off by the biggest pain ever. Agony radiates across my stomach. “Hey…”

  “I know,” she coos. “Most thrax aren’t used to us yet, are they? But we’ll change them eventually. You’ve already made great strides.”

  My belly expands along with the pain. The waistline of my Razor Guard pants actually pop. One thought appears in my mind, the words written in neon letters.

  The baby is coming quickly, just like the igni warned.

  It takes a force of will to speak again. “Baby…”

  Octavia actually sniffles. I’d be amazed if I weren’t in such bone-crushing agony. Too bad I’m leaning over at the waist. No one can actually see how my belly is expanding at terrifying rate.

  Octavia pats my shoulder. “I know, we can’t wait for the little one to arrive.”

  Lincoln gently pushes his mother aside. “Myla, what’s wrong?” he kneels beside me and gets a good view of my now very pregnant belly. Panic streams through my veins. Didn’t I have months before this was going to happen?

  Lincoln goes right into action. In a matter of seconds, he has the hall cleared out, my Razor Guard disguise off, and me curled up in his arms. “I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

  The mother of all contractions rips through my torso. “That’s good. Because I’m pretty sure the baby is coming right now.”

  Lincoln holds me more tightly and then takes off at a run. The good news is, we’re both smiling every step of the way.

  Our baby is almost here.

  Epilogue

  Three months ago, I gave birth to the cutest baby ever. Now, I stand at the back archway of the Chapel, the same place I exchanged marriage vows with Lincoln. Like that day, the place is crammed with thrax, quasis, and angels.

  No demons this time. Whew.

  The three of us are alone in the tunnel, which serves as the access way to the Chapel proper. At some point, I’m going to stop being amazed at the size of this so-called Chapel. The thing is way larger than Purgatory’s Arena back home. And today, I don’t think there’s an empty seat in the place.

  Lincoln stands at my side. We’re both dressed in our medieval best as King and Queen of the Thrax. Just like with our wedding, my mother agreed that Antrum would be the best place to hold the main event for today, which is Maxon’s naming ceremony. That said, our little family is going on a full tour of Purgatory after this ceremony is over. The angelic choir that got together for my wedding is now doing gigs across the after-realms. They even have a badass name: Wrath of Xavier, or Wrath-X. Personally, I think it’s kind of an angelic idea of a badass name, but who am I to rain on their parade?

  Here’s how it will work. Wrath-X will do a quick intro song. Then Lincoln, Maxon, and I will celebrate the naming ceremony. Once the naming part is done, our little family can hightail it out of the auditorium while the band keeps playing. Mom will get her photo opp. The quasi people will get to see the baby. It’s a win all the way around.

  Little Maxon squirms in my arms. Did I mention he’s cute? He’s got that awesome baby smell, pudgy limbs with fat rings on his wrists and ankles, and big mismatched eyes. I love him to pieces.

  Lincoln leans over, placing his pointer finger into the grip of Maxon’s baby hand. “How’s my little man today?”

  Maxon is already a total operator, by the way. My baby perks right up, blinks in Lincoln’s direction, and coos. Adorable, and yes, working the charming factor at a young age.

  Footsteps sound behind us. Turning around, I see my father and Cissy tooling up the stone corridor. I have a flashback of them both here once before, as I was getting ready to head down the aisle and marry Lincoln. As it turned out, I was also getting ready to go into a major battle. This time, I hope things will go much more smoothly.

  Dad approaches me slowly, like I’m a strange creature he’s never seen before. My father’s been acting strangely ever since the igni talked to him at triple screech level. “Are you…okay, Myla?

  “I’m fine, Dad. And you look fabulous.” Which he does. My father is decked out in his golden armor with his matching wings on display. He looks everything angelic and kick-butt.

  “If you’re sure.” Dad tilts his head.

  “They aren’t screeching at me. No worries.”

  My father exhales. “Glad to hear it. You know I went through a lot in Hell and, wow. That’s all I have to say. Wow.”

  My father spent seventeen or so years getting tortured by Armageddon in Hell, and Armageddon is a guy who really, really, really likes to torture. This may sound strange, but it makes me feel good to have my father acknowledge how tough igni are to interact with sometimes. Makes me feel semi-heroic for just interpreting them.

  “Thanks, Dad. I mean it.”

  Cissy steps up; she’s in her Senatorial robes today. “I had to see you before you started.” She steps around me in a slow circle. Cis helped me pick out my gown for this event. We had the royal clothier work with a quasi designer this time. I’m wearing a pale pink over-dress with my white Scala robes underneath. The lines are a little more modern and fitted. I like it.

  “You did a great job, Cis.” It was a diplomatic achievement to get Antrum and Purgatory working together on anything, let alone a gown.

  Cissy bobs a little on the balls of her feet. It makes her golden curls bounce by her shoulders. “It’s all worth it to see you look this awesome.”

  Outside, Wrath-X starts into the opening riff of “Somebody to Love” by Queen. Lincoln sets his hand at the small of my back. “That’s our cue.”

  Dad and Cissy make their quick good-byes and rush off down the opposite side of the corridor. Before us, the packed stadium rises to its feet. Little Maxon squirms and gurgles. My tail arches over my shoulder to wave at the crowd. We start the slow stroll down the aisle. I pass so many friendly faces, my face starts to hurt from smiling.

  Walker looks handsome in his ghoul robes. He shakes his head as we step by. Walker is basically my honorary brother, so I know what that that headshake means. Walker knew both Lincoln and me since we were kids. No one thought Lincoln and I would ever meet, let alone have a family. Now, Walker can’t believe we’re stepping by him with little Maxon in my arms.

  Zeke and Cissy stand by the aisle. She’s crying all over her Senatorial robes. For his part, Zeke is almost completely recovered from having taken down three Razor Guards singlehandedly. The guy spent a week in the hospital after coming back from Earth. When I learned that, I decided to take back another chunk of mean things
I said about him.

  Next, we step by Octavia and Connor. Lincoln’s mother looks like the definition of “blissed out.” She’s spent the last three months recounting how Maxon’s every little motion means that he’s brilliant and/or a master warrior. “See how Maxon’s gnawing on his toe? Genius baby.” It’s sweet.

  Meanwhile, Connor is keeping his blustering to a minimum. Of all the parents, Connor took it the hardest when we announced we were splitting our time between Antrum and Purgatory. For someone who seems really conflicted about my having a baby, he certainly has a lot of ideas on where the kid should be raised. Whatever. I’m not allowing him to ruin the day for me.

  At the end of the aisle, there stand my mother and father. Mom looks Presidential in her purple skirt-suit. Dad positively gleams in his angelic armor, wings on display. Once I started into labor, Mom took a rush Pulpitum to Antrum. She recovered rather quickly from the “my daughter isn’t dead” thing and went right into supportive Mom mode. It was awesome.

  Lincoln and I finish our walk down the aisle. Before us stands Verus, the Queen of the Angels, who will be officiating the ceremony. She hovers above us in her white gown with matching sandals; her wings beat a steady rhythm. We share a smile.

  For the record, I’m glad Verus came today. It was her oracle powers that brought Lincoln and I together in the first place. I’m glad she’ll be officiating the ceremony. As we stand before her, the music goes silent for a moment, then the chorus launches into its big finale.

  Find me somebody to love…

  Find me somebody to love…

  Find me somebody to love…

  Somebody, somebody, somebody to love…

  Anybody find me somebody to love!

  As the crescendo hits, Lincoln and I lock gazes. All the love in world shines out in his mismatched eyes.

  The song finishes, and the Chapel falls silent. Verus’s voice carries across the massive space. “Who brings forth this child to be named?”

  Lincoln’s gaze stays locked with mine as he speaks. “The luckiest man in the after-realms.”

  A blush crawls up my cheeks. Maxon gurgles happily in my arms. And in this moment, everything imperfect and glorious is mine, both in this world and the next.

  By popular demand! The Angelbound prequel story from Lincoln’s point of view!

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  The story continues with THE DARK LANDS, Book 5 in the Angelbound Origins Series

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  Myla’s honorary older brother, Walker, disappears. Not okay. Myla and Lincoln go off to the

  Dark Lands to find him. Only problem? The place is lousy with ghouls.

  Also from Christina Bauer: CURSED, a combination of romance, fantasy and witchcraft

  Order now

  Also from Christina Bauer: WOLVES & ROSES, a modern shifter fairy tale

  Order now

  Also from Christina Bauer: DIMENSION DRIFT, a snarky urban fantasy

  Order now

  Also from Monster House Books: MORIBUND, book 1 of the Circuit Fae series

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  Acknowledgements

  Writing THRAX (Angelbound Origins book 4) was both fun and challenging. Why? In ACCA (book 3), I had a clear character arc. Not so the case in THRAX.

  SPOILER ALERT: In book 3, Myla starts off as betrothed and ends up as married.

  SPOILER ALERT FOLLOW-UP NOTE: Actually, the cover of Book 3 should really have given the wedding thing away, but still. I respect the spoiler alert.

  Back to THRAX. What’s grown over the course of writing this book is the idea of Myla developing into a Queen. This is tricky stuff. The reason? A lot of female-centric stories portray women’s leadership as one of the following:

  - Walking around in great outfits while plotting the demise of your enemies

  - Throwing cool parties

  - Yelling at people

  Now I’ve worked in offices for decades, and while lady leaders sometimes do those things, it’s actually pretty rare. True leadership isn’t about haranguing people into doing your bidding. It centers on crafting a vision and inspiring your team to follow that star, and with any luck, to change the world. In honor of all the amazing women I’ve worked with, I wanted to capture their true spirit with Myla and THRAX.

  All of which brings up some topics for yours truly about the hero versus heroine’s journey. There’s no way to write about female leadership and not define the heroine’s journey. What is it? Well, I’ll tell you my version, and the easiest way to start is by defining the hero’s journey.

  To my mind, the hero’s myth is about protecting society from threat. The hero may bring back a special skill from the forest of the unknown, but it’s always to defend their people. Heroes aren’t fundamentally changing the fabric of life. From a mythological standpoint, I’m talking about Jack slaying the giant… A team going off on its newest impossible mission… Or Austin Powers stopping the latest nuclear warhead from destroying the world. Threats are defused, but the core functioning of society isn’t altered.

  For me as a writer, changing the core basis of society is the heroine’s journey. It’s central to female leadership energy, which in turn can be expressed through anyone, man or woman. To define this path, I’ve hunted down and researched a lot of female myths. In my mind, female leadership energy boils down to three traits:

  1.Brains over brawn. For example, the Greco-Roman god Zeus gets his way by zapping his enemies with a lightning bolt. And it works: that’s how he roasted the Titans, after all. However, his daughter Athena is the only other deity strong enough to wield that same lightning bolt, but she prefers to use cunning to get her way. For instance, there’s a great story where Athena goes toe-to-toe with Poseidon over who gets to name a new Greek town. Poseidon splits a cliff side with his trident. Badass! Then Athena (who presumably could have borrowed dad’s thunderbolt) drops a seed into that split, which then becomes the first olive tree. What a smartypants. Olive oil forms the basis of Greeks wealth, so the mortals name the city Athens. You go, girl.

  2.A heroine focuses on herself first. Here I think about the original Cinderella, aka Ash Maiden. In the Grimm’s version, Cinderella’s main problem isn’t evil family members, but her own grief over losing her mother. Every day, the original Cinderella cries onto a seedling to mourn. From that sapling, there grows a magical tree. Key point: it’s from that tree that Cinderella’s gown and shoes fall, helping her move on with her life. The Prince comes along afterwards. Way afterwards. I translate this as every heroine having her own passion or power outside of her love interest entering the scene.

  3.The heroine changes the world. This is in stark contrast to defending from a threat. Heroines reweave society. For this concept, I always think of the classic story of Isis, Osiris, and Horus. Here’s the short version: Isis’s consort Osiris is killed due to his own greed over owning a sarcophagus (I know, dumbass.) Anyway, the death of Osiris knocks the heavens out of balance. At this point, Isis could have floated on her cloud and that’s it. She’s a goddess; who cares if the world falls apart. Not going to affect her. Instead, Isis spends years finding all the pieces of Osiris’s body to magically reassemble him long enough for her to become pregnant with Horus. Once Isis’s son is born, the heavens form a new kind of balance: one with a little less selfishness in it.

  KEY POINT: This is the core myth that drives Egyptian culture for 3,000 years, and probably the cultures before it for much longer. The image of Isis with Horus on her knee became the inspiration for the Christian image of Mary and baby Jesus. See why the parallelism made sense in the ancient world? Both figures embody the birth of selflessness and concern for others.

  Back to THRAX (again). In crafting this book, I found that Myla has easily mastered items number one and two as listed above. However, number three on this list was a challenge. Eventually, it became clear that Myla’s way of changing the thrax world would to be leading the thrax into a new and more diverse future, one that also supports quasis. Now
, this wouldn’t be an overnight change. Like Ash maiden, Myla will need to water that seedling of change for years. But it will happen. And in this book, she starts on that journey.

  Speaking of journeys, I have so many people to thank for helping me on the adventure of writing this book. First, there is the amazing team at Inscribe Digital. They believed in me and my vision from the start. Thank you, Kelly Peterson, Larry Norton, Kimberly Lane, and Allison Davis.

  Next, there’s the wonderful team at Monster House Books. Arely Zimmermann, where would I be without you? It makes me shiver to even think about. And GIE, thank you so much for your insight, gentle prodding, and teamwork. You’re a marvel.

  And I can never forget my readers and bloggers. You guys are the best, end of story. Thank you for every high five, sweet idea, and suggested change. I value each and every one!

  Most importantly, heartfelt thanks to my husband and son. Your patience and support mean everything. I love you both with all my heart and soul.

  Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too. Christina lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

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