Rebel Angel: A Sainted Sinners Novel

by Vivian Wood

  6

  Ezra

  The next night, Ezra dreamt of the end of the world. In the dream, he flew high above the earth, watching the chaos begin. Everything was a little fuzzy, only a few details catching his attention at first. He felt strangely detached, disconnected from it all.

  Down below, great seas of fiery lava welled to the surface of the planet at the far corners, creeping outward and scorching everything they touched. As the seas began to heat and recede, the fires caught and spread.

  The heat provided huge drafts that pushed him higher and higher. He glided toward North America, moving impossibly fast. He pumped his wings hard and tucked them in, diving down toward the Southern states, zooming in on New Orleans.

  As he dropped, he saw that the skies were pink and orange and red, reflecting the fires in the distance. It was frightening even to Ezra, who’d existed before all the prophecies about the end of the world were even written down.

  In the States, at least, the rivers were still flowing. The lava and fires were yet distant, but not far enough for Ezra’s comfort.

  The idea of checking in on Mere Marie floated into his mind. As he got closer, the heat lessened, and he dove down toward the city skyline. At once, he could tell that things were not as they should be.

  Smoke rose from burning buildings. The Superdome was ablaze, the fire burning high and bright. He veered toward the French Quarter, to fly over his apartment. In the streets, humans ran in every direction, quick, dark demons chasing them down. Every couple of minutes, a high scream pierced the air, only to end abruptly as the human fell to a demon.

  He dropped down further, and saw one of the demons catch a young woman. Barefoot and terrified, she ran down Decatur Street, probably heading for the Cathedral. Too slow, though; the dark-robed demon caught her and slid its arms around her.

  The young woman’s cry died on her lips. She went still, pure black bleeding into her eyes until they were entirely dark. She threw her head back, the shining white mist of her soul rising from her body. The demon dropped her corpse and snagged the mist, sucking it into his lungs with one big breath.

  Snarling with pleasure, the demon shuddered, then turned and spied another victim running down the street. It was off like a shot, chasing down its prey.

  In the dream, Ezra turned away, feeling helpless. He flapped his wings and moved on, hoping to find Kirael and Vesper at their home. He’d barely made it onto the street when he saw that the entire block of buildings was on fire, already beginning to crumble, dropping smoldering chunks of wood and brick into the street.

  Where should I go now? he wondered.

  It was hot, so very hot. He wanted to get to the river, only a few blocks away. He turned and flew toward the water, passing dozens of doomed humans as he went. It seemed as though there should be more of them, but perhaps they were all hiding, taking shelter against the onslaught.

  When he crossed the broad pedestrian plazas to the riverfront, he realized that the humans had the same idea. Go to the river, stand together against the demons and the heat. A couple thousand were clustered together near the Steamboat Natchez.

  The deck of the Natchez was crammed with screaming people. Further down the shore he could see the Algiers ferry and a couple other boats shoving off. Faintly, Ezra could see demons lined up and waiting on the other side of the river. It seemed as though they couldn’t cross the water, and the humans had figured that much out at least.

  The Algiers ferry drifted midstream, maybe hoping to find a safe harbor downriver.

  On the shore, demons had surrounded the unlucky ones without a spot on the boats. Humans were fighting back, shooting guns and attacking with makeshift staves, but the demons were unaffected. Slowly but surely, the demons were grabbing people at the fringes, sucking their misty souls out of the air.

  Going back for more, and more. It was quickly growing into a feeding frenzy. Ezra touched down behind the hordes. A few of them turned and withdrew from him with a hiss.

  He looked down to find his sword in his palm, the incantation already on his lips. He’d only rarely culled demons during his tenure in Hell, but he knew it could be done.

  He moved forward, steady and sure and calm. Raising his sword, he struck at the demons, who dissolved with soft screams the moment his sword touched their shapeless, shadowy flesh or dark robes.

  The humans around him panicked and backed away, the crowd flattening toward the shore. Some started jumping into the river, quickly disappearing into the choppy current. Some were shoved toward the slavering demons, screams dying in their throats as they dropped, their souls snatched.

  “Don’t fear me!” Ezra tried to shout, but his throat was too dry, his words coming out a rasp.

  He turned to the business of the demons, his heart beginning to pound. He threw himself into the battle, his stomach dropping a little each time another human died. More demons flocked toward the humans, afraid of Ezra but unable to resist the temptation of a good meal.

  He fought until he was sweating, until his muscles grew sore. For every demon he culled, two more arrived. The number of humans decreased bit by bit, until he could see that there were only a few rows of adults encircling all the human children, doing their best to protect them.

  Some of the children started to clamber across the rocks and vanish into the water. Ezra couldn’t blame them; it wasn’t as if he was going to save them, no matter how hard he tried.

  Behind him, he heard a booming laugh. All the demons went still, drifted away from the humans. Ezra turned to see none other than Lucifer himself, riding in on a gleaming, armor clad horse. The stallion was black as coal, matching the oil-slick dark feathers of Lucifer’s wings, the black nothingness of his eyes.

  Behind him, four dark-hooded black horsemen rode, flanking a woman on a white mare.

  Aurora. Her long copper hair flowing down her back, her sky-blue eyes dull and unblinking. She wore a silvery dress, slit high at the sides to display her bare legs and allow her to ride astride. She didn’t so much as glance at Ezra or the humans near the river. Instead, she focused on Lucifer, following his every movement as though he were her personal deity.

  “Aurora!” he called out. This time his voice rang clear as a bell, but Aurora didn’t acknowledge him.

  “She can’t hear you, Ezra,” Lucifer said, drawing the procession to a halt before Ezra. “You are too late. She belongs to me now.”

  “Aurora, look at me!” he said.

  Unflinching, she continued to stare at Lucifer as if he were the only creature in the entire universe.

  Lucifer grinned.

  “Beautiful, isn’t she? My greatest accomplishment, breaking her.” He glanced back at Aurora. “Isn’t that right, slave?”

  “Yes, my prince,” Aurora said. As she spoke, a slow tear broke free and slipped down her cheek. She let it fall, frozen in place.

  “You bastard,” Ezra uttered, horrified. “What did you do?”

  “That is no longer your concern, Ezra. I think you’d do best to think about what comes next for you.”

  “Next?” Ezra asked, looking around the apocalyptic landscape, at a complete loss.

  “You’re an immortal. You don’t die with the rest of the humans. And there’s no Heaven to run to anymore, the angels have all Fallen to join me.”

  “You mean you forced them to Fall,” Ezra gritted out.

  Lucifer shrugged, unconcerned. “Some of them have a little more loyalty than you do, Ezra. In any case, you’d better practice your groveling if you hope to rejoin my Army.”

  “Never,” Ezra swore, glancing at Aurora.

  “Once the cleansing is complete, and the earth has been converted to nothing more than another level of Hell… I think you’ll change your mind. That, or I’ll find a way to kill you,” Lucifer said.

  Before Ezra could say another word, Lucifer pulled at the reigns, making his stallion rear and whinny. Lucifer turned and took off at a gallop, Aurora and the four horsemen fast on
his heels.

  Gritting his teeth, Ezra did the only thing he could think of. Raising his sword, he hurled it at Aurora. It flew straight and true, closer and closer.

  It sunk deep into her back. She cried out, a blossom of crimson appearing at her back…

  7

  Ezra

  Ezra startled, opening his eyes. He looked around for a few moments before recognizing his location, the bedroom at the safe house. The sheets clung to his damp skin, and he shoved the fabric away as he sat up.

  Surely, the dream was just a product of the stressful situation. Ezra had never had a prophetic dream in his aeons of existence, it was unlikely that he should start now.

  Still, the dream shook him up. The dying humans, the way Lucifer gloated, the dead look in Aurora’s eyes… he knew enough of Aurora to know that she was lively and opinionated.

  Suddenly he craved a glass of water, or better yet a glass of water and a tumbler of whiskey. Ezra rose and headed into the lounge area. To his surprise, Aurora was awake and sitting on the big open window ledge, staring out into the desert.

  She seemed absorbed in her own thoughts, all the childlike joy from earlier in the day vanished. When Ezra picked up a glass and a bottle of whiskey from the small bar cart in the lounge, she jumped.

  “I didn’t realize you were up,” she said.

  “I could say the same for you.”

  Her long hair was down, flowing all around her like molten copper. She ran her fingers down a few strands as she looked him up and down. Her gaze settled on his torso for a long moment, and Ezra realized that she stared at his bare chest.

  “Drink?” he asked, raising the bottle.

  She gave him a humorless smile and shook her head. “No thanks.”

  He poured himself a glass and returned the bottle to the cart, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler.

  She wore an oversized shirt and barely-there sleep shorts, which he noticed when she pulled her bare legs up and hugged her knees to her chest.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

  “Bad dream,” he said, moving over to sit on the window ledge with her. “You?”

  Ezra felt Aurora watching him as he looked out to the moonlit scene before them.

  “Just a lot to process,” she said, twirling a lock of hair through her fingers. “Trying to think through my next steps, I guess. It’s hard to see what’s coming down the line, you know?”

  Ezra nodded and sipped his drink, savoring the sweet burn of the whiskey as it slid down the back of his throat. They didn’t talk for a couple of minutes, listening to the wind whip sand across the desert.

  He mulled over his dream. In truth, his vision of the apocalypse wouldn’t be terribly far off from what might happen if Aurora didn’t side with Heaven eventually. The parts about demons and the sky turning red, those were all logical enough as far as conclusions went.

  The part about Aurora… presumably that was because he found her beauty intriguing, and she was close at hand. There was no denying that he didn’t want to see a strong, free-willed woman like Aurora under Lucifer’s power.

  The gravest consequence, though, was undoubtedly the end of humanity. The future Ezra dreamed could not be brought to pass; if he had any influence whatsoever, he would throw it behind Heaven just to prevent that grisly outcome.

  At the moment, it seemed that the only thing Ezra might do would be to help Aurora free the trapped souls of her family. Give her the vengeance she sought, perhaps erase some of her well-deserved hatred toward Heaven in the process.

  With the last sip of whiskey, it was decided.

  Ezra sat the glass aside and stood. Aurora looked up at him, as if sensing that he had something to say.

  “I want to help you,” he said.

  Aurora’s gaze narrowed as she rose to stand, looking him in the eye. “Help me do what?”

  “Free your family. Get vengeance,” he said, nodding at the tattoo inscribed on her forearm. “If you will let me protect you, I will help you.”

  Aurora startled him by flinging her arms around his neck. Her lips pressed against his, warm and soft. Her delicate floral scent invaded his senses. The kiss was all too brief, and moments later she stepped back.

  Cheeks flushed, an embarrassed smile on her face, eyes sparkling… this side of Aurora was enchanting. It took everything in Ezra’s power not to grab her, pull her tight against his body, and explore what a real kiss from her might be like.

  “Um, thanks,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was still red as a candy apple.

  “No problem,” Ezra said, because he was at a total loss.

  “Okay, well…” Aurora took a step back, as if needed distance between them. “I should get to bed.”

  “Sure,” Ezra said.

  She gave him another shy glance, then flipped that glorious copper curtain of hair over her shoulder and left the room.

  Ezra watched her every step until she disappeared into the back hallway. He looked down, realizing his fists were clenched. His whole body tense, ready for…

  What, exactly?

  Forcing himself to relax, he sat at the window again, barely noticing the spectacular view.

  Clear your mind, he told himself. Focus on the task at hand. Protect her, don’t lust after her.

  Easier said than done…

  8

  Aurora

  Aurora woke early, feeling surprisingly refreshed. She loved getting up before everyone else, feeling as though the whole world belonged only to her for a little while. She drank a cup of tea, walked to the Faerie swimming pool, and watched the sun come up.

  By the time Ezra was awake, she had already taken over part of the living room floor, covering it with books and papers. She glanced up to find him watching her with a curious expression, though unfortunately this time he was rather more dressed than the night previous.

  “I’m planning,” she told him, unable to resist a smile.

  Ezra made a soft noise, mumbled something about coffee, and vanished to the kitchen. After a few minutes, the delicious aroma of coffee wafted by. Aurora liked the smell a lot more than the taste, and at the moment it was making her a bit hungry.

  Ezra’s bare feet drew her out of the intent study of an ancient text on demons.

  “More awake?” she asked.

  “Marginally,” he said, but she could see that he was amused. “I’m going to make breakfast in a minute. Can I interest you in an omelette?”

  “Sure. No meat, though,” she said, pursing her lips.

  “Vegetarian,” he said, though he sounded a little uncertain.

  “That’s right. Pescetarian, if you want to be specific. I eat fish and eggs and dairy, just not meat from mammals.”

  Ezra came around to check out the books and papers she’d spread out, sipping his coffee and watching without comment. For some reason, having him watch over her shoulder made her feel nervous, like she needed to explain herself.

  “I thought we’d tackle my brother first,” she said, looking up at him.

  Ezra just gave her a slow nod, so she pushed on.

  “I found this book of demon lore, and even a passage on the demon I believe holds my brother,” she said, pointing to one book. “So I jotted down some notes about him.”

  “Aragoth?” Ezra asked, squinting at the book.

  “That’s right.”

  “I recognize the name. He’s an upper-level demon, pretty well-known. I think we can find some good information on where he’s holding your brother, what challenges he might present.”

  “I’ve been researching for almost a year,” Aurora said with a shrug. “I think I know most of the answers, but it never hurts to learn more.”

  Ezra crouched beside her. Setting his coffee cup on the floor, he pointed to the diary that lay open beside her notes. “May I?”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. He picked up the notebook, flipping through it.

  “Most of it is about his bolt-hole, Paradis,” she said. �
��Like Paradise, but missing an e?”

  “It’s French,” Ezra murmured.

  “Impressive research,” he said. “Looks like you already know most of what there is to know about Aragoth. Ah, I see here that he’s high in Belial’s esteem.”

  “I don’t really know much about Belial,” she admitted.

  “Lucifer’s right hand, as it were,” Ezra muttered, turning a page. “Not someone you want to tangle with, given the choice.”

  “That makes sense. I’ve interviewed a few Kith creatures, none of them wanted to talk about Belial at any length.”

  “No, it’s best to leave Fallen out of the equation if you can,” Ezra said.

  That caught her attention. Aurora glanced up at him, brushing hair out of her eyes. “You included?”

  Ezra’s lips twitched. “Depends on the circumstances.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Aurora said. “Anyway, it looks like Aragoth lives in sort of a modern-day, demonic opium den. Drugs, prostitutes, demons and humans and everything in between.”

  “And he’s got your brother trapped there, somehow?” Ezra asked.

  “Since his home is a bolt-hole, he can define the world inside with any rules he wants,” she said. Ezra arched a brow, and she blushed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to tell you something you already know. My point is that he’s set Paradis up so that he can bring departed souls there, and many of those souls still think they’re alive. They have a body, they can take in all their vices without feeling any of the repercussions.”

  “And he gets something out of the bargain, I presume?”

  She reached out for her diary, and he handed it over. Flipping through a few pages, she found the notation she sought.

  “One of my sources thinks he feeds off the weakest of the souls, that their addiction and frailty gives him power.”

  Ezra frowned. “Disturbing, but not surprising.”

  “Yeah,” Aurora said, her stomach flip-flopping. “I hate to think of that happening to Jackson.”