Angel Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  How does he know about our blood bond? she wondered, shocked. Is it something Seraphim can sense?

  That, or someone told him, Issac thought back at her, his tone underlined in fury. My suspicion is it’s the latter.

  Which means he might not know for sure…

  “I’m not sure how much use I’ll be to you,” she said, an idea forming as she uttered each word. “I can’t even figure out how to mist.”

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “You’re still young. A baby, really. I’ll teach you what you need to know.” He shifted his focus to the cell beside her. “The offer stands for you as well. I’ve always been impressed by you and your practical stance on life. There’s a future here, if you desire it.”

  “Assuming I can earn that future,” Issac added, his tone calm. “Betrayal is hard to overcome.”

  “It is, yes,” Osiris agreed. “That you even acknowledge that fact proves my point. You’re valuable.” He glanced around, his lips curling into one of his charming grins that made her queasy inside. “You all are, actually. We’ll come to an understanding over the next few centuries. I’m certain of it.”

  Ice trickled through her veins, her heart threatening to stop in her chest. Centuries? Stas glanced at the ghastly remains beside her. Was that her fate? Would she wither and decompose here? Become a husk with a soul floating about without a host?

  She shivered, the image desolate, numbing.

  I’ll become my mother.

  A vision of the ocean floor appeared around her, the seaweed climbing up her limbs, holding her beneath the surface. Trapped for eternity. Dying over and over again. A fate worse than death.

  Just like the coffin.

  Suffocating.

  Except Stas could breathe here.

  How long before her body began to shut down? Her mind?

  No.

  That is not my fate. She didn’t accept it. Refused to even acknowledge it.

  Life flickered within her.

  Creation.

  Power.

  I will not die here.

  Energy swirled within her soul, spilling into her veins and flooding her limbs. Her fingers twitched.

  Osiris said something, but she couldn’t hear him over the roar in her head—a lioness begging to be let free.

  And she opened the door.

  Literally and figuratively, her mind was no longer hers to control. It belonged to the powerful being inside her.

  The iron snapped under her will, sending Osiris backward a few steps. His eyebrows rose, not in fear but in awe. She pushed him back with a mental shove, sending him toward the stairs.

  “Walk,” the Seraphim inside her commanded. This went deeper than persuasion—a control unlike anything she’d ever felt—and Osiris succumbed to her power with a smile.

  “Beautiful,” he said, his feet taking him backward. “Absolutely stunning.”

  He wouldn’t be saying that when she overtook him, when she destroyed him. They moved upstairs, Stark and Issac behind her. She barely felt them, couldn’t hear them, her entire focus on the monster before her.

  “More,” he encouraged as they stepped outside.

  Night had fallen.

  The stars a reassuring glisten above her.

  “Show me your wings,” Osiris demanded. His power washed over her, causing the feathers to burst from her back, her soul retreating into the ethereal realm. She nearly stumbled, her heart in her throat. But the impressed note in his expression had her steeling herself, her spine straightening.

  “I am not yours to command,” she told him, another wave of authority washing over her. “You will not own me.” Her wings beat at her back, sending a gust of wind toward him, the move instinctive and powerful.

  But he responded in kind, his ebony feathers blossoming around him as he sent another burst back at her, forcing her a step backward.

  Keep him busy, Issac said. Don’t let him see.

  She didn’t know what he meant, too focused on the task of battling Osiris. His ancient spirit pushed against hers, some bizarre force trying to belittle the light inside her. It hurt, sending spasms down her spine as her soul fought for purpose.

  This went beyond psychic energy. He was attacking her in the ethereal realm. And she didn’t know how to fight him. She barely knew how to fan out her wings, how to fly, how to mist.

  And she sensed that he was going easy on her.

  He saw this as a test.

  A lesson.

  Osiris wanted to explore her skill set, to determine how best to sharpen it for his own personal use.

  No! She would not allow it. I am not yours! She sent another blast of air that he countered with a flick of his wing, his expression pure joy.

  “You will make a fine lieutenant indeed,” he murmured. “Again.”

  She growled, searching inside for more, something to shock him, to put him on his ass. But he met her compulsion with commands of his own, counteracting her every step of the way, leaving her dumbfounded and exhausted.

  Her back ached, her wings strained from whirling on the grass and dancing with the stars. He took her to planes she didn’t understand, her soul leaving her body and returning in waves, the confusion of what he was doing baffling her senses.

  And all the while, he encouraged her to push harder, to show him everything she could do, forcing her to continue this lethal game she hardly understood.

  She fell to her knees in the grass, her breathing harsh to her own ears, her wings broken around her. Osiris stood before her, triumphant, his inky feathers encircling them both as he gazed down at her.

  “Ah, you impress me, Stas. Breaking your fight will be my biggest achievement.” He petted her hair, cooing her name. “You’ll be my most impressive—” He jolted backward, his focus shifting to the side. “Vera,” he growled.

  “Hello, darling.” A Seraphim with navy wings appeared, her smile radiant. “You really should pick on an angel your own age.” She tsked. “Poor form.”

  He collapsed, a sound of pure rage ripping from his throat. “I’ll—” The words died as he rolled to his back, his wings disappearing and his eyes falling closed.

  “Well, that was easier than I expected,” Vera said. “You exhausted him for me, Stas. Well done.”

  Stas couldn’t reply, her own fatigue taking over. She had no concept of time or space or even what had just happened.

  “He buried him two miles that way,” Vera said, pointing through the trees. “Look for the fresh grave at the base of the mountain. Beneath the dirt is a cement tomb. But hurry, Gabriel. I can’t hold Osiris for long.” Her head fell back on a shudder, power rippling through the air around her. “And Skye…” She rolled her neck, her voice hollowing. “The lake, near the docks. There’s not enough time—”

  “Go,” Stark said, his voice oddly close but far away.

  “But Sethios—” That sounded like Ezekiel.

  “Issac and I will handle it,” Stark interjected. “Save Skye.”

  Ezekiel’s reply was lost on the wind roaring in Stas’s head. She felt shattered. Alone. Confused as hell.

  “Skye will be the one he torments because she’s not expendable.” Is that Leela speaking? “Save her. We’ll deal with the compulsion later. It’s her only hope.”

  Another harsh gust, something fighting for access. To take control. To command. Osiris, she realized. “He’s…”

  “Get her out of here,” someone snapped.

  The world shifted, Stas’s surroundings melting into the night and reappearing in a blink.

  “Here!” The masculine voice warmed her heart. My Issac.

  “I need some space to break through the concrete,” Stark said, sounding distant and cold.

  “You can do that?”

  “I’m a warrior Seraphim. Now hold Stas.”

  Another whirlwind.

  The stars swimming overhead.

  Warm arms circling her. Protecting her. She snuggled into the familiarity, luxuriating in the sandalwood
that infiltrated her senses. Love.

  I’m here.

  I know, she whispered back to him. I feel you.

  Gabriel is using his wings to shatter the concrete holding your father. A shock wave followed his words, causing her to flinch. I was wrong before. I should fear your brother.

  She wanted to laugh, but that required energy she didn’t have.

  And then they were moving again. Fuck, she was dizzy.

  “How long will this last?” Issac asked.

  “It depends on how much Osiris damaged her soul.” Exhaustion lurked in Stark’s voice. From demolishing the concreate, maybe?

  “You said a Seraphim can’t die.”

  “That doesn’t mean a soul can’t be attacked,” Stark replied. “Come on, Sethios. Wake up.”

  Issac sighed. “Shouldn’t we move—”

  The arms around her tightened, yanking her backward as a wave of power stole her breath.

  Energy.

  Strength.

  A lethal purpose.

  Her eyes flew open, her heart beating a mile a minute. She recognized that essence, had dreamt of it a thousand times.

  Green irises identical to her own narrowed in her direction. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, his voice rough with disuse.

  She swallowed.

  Daddy, the little girl inside her whispered, knowing him. Even with the unkempt tangles of dark hair, scruffy beard, thin build, and dead expression, she knew him. “Dad,” she breathed, her heart in her throat.

  He flinched. “Excuse me?”

  “Osiris compelled him to forget,” Stark reminded him. “Make him remember.”

  Her heart pounded. “How do I do that?” She could hardly hold herself up, could hardly focus on the present, and Stark wanted her to overpower Osiris’s command? “I… I don’t…” She swallowed again, her chest aching.

  He doesn’t know me.

  But I know him.

  I remember everything.

  She thought of the times he called her his little angel. All the times he held her, told her stories about her mother’s wings, how beautiful they looked when they fluttered. She pictured him chastising her for using compulsion inappropriately, sharing ice cream cones in secret, and playing hide-and-seek outside. He taught her so much in such a short period, had embedded a sense of purpose into her that she hadn’t understood until recently.

  He was her savior.

  Her father.

  The one who sacrificed everything for her.

  And now he didn’t remember her.

  Didn’t remember her mother.

  Couldn’t recall anything he stood for.

  A shell of a man beneath Osiris’s influence.

  She hated that, hated everything that evil being had taken from her, from them. He was a monster. He destroyed. He hurt.

  Because of him, she didn’t have a childhood. He stole years of her parents’ lives, had forced her to grow up without her father.

  I’m your little angel, she wanted to tell him now. It’s me, Astasiya. But she didn’t know how to voice the realizations, not with him looking at her as if she were nothing.

  He doesn’t know me.

  Her heart threatened to break.

  God, he has no idea who I am. A tear trickled down her cheek, hopelessness brewing inside her. How do I make him see?

  More memories flooded in, her mind fracturing beneath the assault. The last time she saw him, he commanded her to run, to leave him to his fate. “I didn’t understand,” she whispered, breaking. “I didn’t know why you made me run. But I felt your pain. Oh, God, I felt it.” And she could sense it now, shattering inside her, torturing her soul. “I still feel it.”

  Her knees gave out beneath her, Issac’s arms catching her as she fell.

  She couldn’t do this.

  Didn’t know how to undo it.

  All she felt was immense torment. A broken piece of her being, forever unhinged. She pictured her mother, begging beneath the waves, allowing it to fuel her agony. The suffering, the sorrow, the grief spilled through, ripping a cry from her throat. It hurts, she moaned. Oh God… it hurts!

  “Caro?” her father breathed, falling to his knees before her, his hands on her face, forcing her attention upward. He blinked in surprise, rearing back. His pupils widened, his lips parting. “Astasiya?”

  The earth rumbled beneath them, a quake that knocked everyone off balance.

  “Osiris is awaking,” Stark said. “We need to go.”

  Her father gaped up at him. “Gabriel?”

  A brief smile flitted over his features. “Good to have you back, Sethios.” He grabbed her father’s shoulder. “Hang on.”

  Stark’s opposite hand came down on her shoulder, Issac’s arms tight around her waist as time and space moved again.

  But it was too much.

  She couldn’t keep her eyes open, couldn’t focus.

  Sand touched her senses.

  Followed by a soothing cloud of masculine energy.

  Sleep, Issac whispered. I’ll be here when you wake.

  36

  Issac

  Astasiya was ice cold, her mind vacant.

  Issac laid her on the couch in Gabriel’s living area, kneeling at her side. “What’s happening? Why can’t I hear her?”

  “She’s healing.” Gabriel collapsed in the chair beside them, his expression ragged. “Fighting Osiris took a lot out of her. As did shattering his hold over Sethios.”

  “What year is it?” Sethios demanded, his hands in his overgrown hair. “What the fuck? Why the hell are you touching my daughter like that?”

  “They’re bonded,” Gabriel replied, his eyes closed. “And she’s twenty-five. Do the math. I need a nap.”

  Sethios started pacing, his energy surprisingly strong for someone who had just been encased in cement. Issac had no idea how that man had healed so quickly. It had to be related to his Seraphim genetics and ancient bloodline.

  And Astasiya.

  Holy. Fuck.

  She’d glowed like a goddess on that field tonight, her wings flaring with a power unlike anything Issac had ever witnessed. And she was wrong—her feathers weren’t pink, but opal. They sparkled in the moonlight, cascading an array of colors across the sky as she battled with Osiris on a plane of existence that baffled his mind.

  Osiris had all but forgotten everyone else the moment Astasiya’s power took over, his sights on his granddaughter alone. Issac understood. Astasiya had captivated him with her beauty, her strength, her very existence. So when Gabriel tasked him with remaining by her side, to keep her grounded and lend her his strength, Issac hadn’t argued. It was the only option—to support her and observe in complete and utter awe.

  “How did she do that?” Issac marveled, recalling the way her skin had glowed in the dungeon. Even her hair had lit up, turning a white-blonde that flowed around her like a silken cape.

  Gabriel squinted at him. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “Astasiya, underground. How did she free us?”

  “Why were you able to manipulate vision?” he countered. “Runes, Wakefield. Osiris leaves them everywhere. She tapped into that extension as a member of his bloodline, and it granted her power. Just as you did.”

  “But she couldn’t at first.” He’d heard her try and fail through the bond. “Why was I able to access it before her?”

  “Because she didn’t believe in herself. Osiris pushed her over the edge.” He shut his eyes again. “As to why you didn’t suffer the same confidence issue, it’s because you’re used to tapping into his runes.”

  Sethios snorted. “The Conclave. I have not missed that circus per—”

  A shriek outside cut him off, Gabriel immediately on his feet. Sethios followed him outside as Owen came running down from upstairs. “I told Mateo you’re all okay, but he’s trying to call you,” he informed him on his way out the door.

  Issac frowned, pulling out his phone.

  Seventeen missed calls.r />
  Over a dozen text messages.

  Mateo’s name flashed on the screen. Issac pressed the button to answer the call, placing his progeny on speakerphone. “Is everyone all right?” he asked, concerned. Either everyone had worried about him—and rightly so—or something had happened. “Did you get Jonathan?”

  “Your sister killed him,” Mateo replied. “Shot him between the eyes with an incendiary bullet.”

  Issac’s eyebrows lifted. “Did she?” He nearly smiled. “Well, I can hardly fault her for that.” Even if it did remove all elements of revenge. Far too easy a death for such a psychopath, but Issac felt oddly at peace with that. Perhaps because he was too exhausted to feel much else at the moment. With everything else occurring around him, it was almost a relief to have one less item to worry about.

  The screams outside grew, causing Issac’s brow to furrow. “I may need to call you back, Mateo.”

  “Hold on,” his progeny said. “You need to know that we’ve identified the mole.”

  “Who?” he demanded.

  “Clara.”

  He blinked. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. She called Jonathan during the attack to inform him that his Sentinels were in Hydria. She had sensed their auras when Jacque dropped them off, and apparently recognized one of them. Her actions nearly cost Amelia her life.”

  Issac’s hand tightened around the phone. “And she was the source of the other links?”

  “Affirmative. I’ll send you the detailed report, but in summary, I was able to link the data from Jonathan’s phone and computer back to her. She gave him everything, and it would seem he provided the notes to Osiris.”

  “Which explains how he learned about Ezekiel’s activities with Gabriel,” Issac replied, his jaw clenching. “Did she play into Lucian’s plans at all? Alerting Jonathan of one of the other sites?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t act on the information. Tom believes it’s a result of being short on Sentinels after the explosion at headquarters and the wedding reception massacre. Jonathan was watching his properties remotely, and I suspect a few of them were wired to explode, but the teams never entered to find out.”

  “Right.” Issac palmed the back of his neck, grimacing at the memories of that night. “So everyone’s all right?”