Run Angel Run: A Steamy Dark Fantasy Romance (The Angels of David's Town Book 1)

by Karen Van Der Poll

  “Reba, where are you going, you will freeze out there?”

  “To London, to see the fucking queen of course,” Reba threw over her shoulder. “And perhaps somewhere in her court of jesters, I’ll find a fool such as me to love.”

  “Reba!” Danjal grabbed her arm, and yanked her towards him. “Don’t do this. Don’t let your feelings for me destroy you. Please, you are too good for me.”

  Reba put a hand on him, gripping his fingers tightly. “At least you know that Danjal, you never deserved my love. Not ten years ago, and certainly not now.” She flung his hand off her. “Touch me again, and I will kill you!” Stepping through the door she added. “And that’s a promise.”

  The air was icy outside, and it bit into the thin material of her sweater and jeans. Noah the cunning bastard knew she’d not get far barefoot in this cold. She knew they watched her, possibly laughing at her stupidity. Well fuck him, fuck the load of them, she fumed. She’d die before she went back in there.

  The door opened again, and Monique stepped out, closing it quietly behind her. “I thought you could use some company.”

  “Monique, I’ve got to get out of here, I’ve got to get away from him. He fucked a vampire when my lipstick stains were still around his cock. For a moment there, I believed he cared, that we might have been given a second chance. I can’t be around him anymore.”

  “I understand Reba,” Monique wrapped her arms around herself. “I will contact Elijah and ask, perhaps you can move into the Fenugreek coven. I think you will be safe there. The entire compound is protected by wards, which are fortified daily.”

  “Do you think Noah would agree to that?”

  “Yesterday when you had that seizure, I think a big chunk of the hex fell away. That’s why your ability with the air element has emerged. Noah has to realize you should be around other witches from now on. We have to monitor you for any other surprises, because I honestly think there isn’t much of the Hex left to fall away.”

  Reba frowned, “I don’t feel any different,” she looked at her hands, “I don’t even know where that airpower originated from. I was just so angry.”

  “Anger and fear will always precipitate the abilities, but look, the dawn is breaking, let’s get out there, and soak up those beautiful rays. I think we both need to recharge our inner batteries. It will give us a different outlook. Come,” she took Reba’s hand, pulling her to the grassy patch at the center of the circular drive. “Let me show you the dance, all fire elementals do every morning at dawn. We welcome the day, and give thanks to the Moon Goddess, for a peaceful night.”

  Danjal

  Danjal stood beside one of the great windows near the front door. He’d showered and dressed, ready for a day of patrols with Cassian, who was presently running a little late after this morning’s disruptions with Reba.

  “What are they doing?” Noah asked. “They’ve been out there for an hour already.” He glanced at his watch, “bloody women!” he cursed softly. “Everything runs smoothly in a house full of men, then you add a woman, and suddenly it’s nothing but bloody drama!”

  “Dancing,” Danjal replied pressing his head against the glass pane, he wasn’t listening to Noah’s bitching. His gaze was glued to Reba, as she danced with Monique. They appeared ethereal, moving in the dawn’s rays. It lit them up like a bonfire, and for several seconds they were nothing more than silhouettes, twirling in the heart of the flames.

  “We have warriors who can keep an eye on them you know,” Noah came up behind him. “Where is Raguel isn’t it his job, the poor sod?”

  “They’re changing shifts, General. I’ll stay here until they’re done, and I know she’s being guarded,” he didn’t try to disguise the bitterness in his voice.

  “It will take time Danjal, but eventually when she understands the dynamics, she will come around.”

  Noah’s patronizing set Danjal’s teeth on edge. “I shouldn’t have listened to you that morning,” he spun around, and faced his father. “I should have gone to her, and told her everything, there and then.”

  “No!” Noah exploded, “she needs to hear it from me!” he slapped his chest.

  “I don’t understand this goddamned pact between you and Isiah, where she’s concerned. This secrecy has gone too bloody far. You should have owned your mistakes.”

  “Had you kept your dick in your pants, we wouldn’t be in this situation either Danjal, you were supposed to protect her, not fuck her!”

  There was no point in arguing with Noah, what was done, was done. Danjal turned back to the window. “What the hell,” his head jerked back, as he looked up into the sky above the Churchlands. “What the fuck is that!”

  “What, can you see?” Noah hurried to his side peering upwards.

  “See there, just above the girls.”

  “Looks like a bird,” Noah squinted.

  “Then it’s a fucking big bird,” Danjal marched towards the door. “I’m going down there to check it out.” He pulled the door open and took the steps two at a time. The closer the bird got, the less of a bird it became. “Monique!” He roared, as he stepped onto the gravel drive, the stones crunching beneath his boots, as he ran. “Above you, look out!”

  * * *

  The creature was rapidly descending upon the dancing girls, who appeared oblivious to the impending danger. Its wings tucked into its sides like a hawk, homing in on its unsuspecting prey.

  “Reba!” Danjal yelled, but his warning came too late. Bolts of light flew from the creature’s outstretched hands, staking the ground around the girls, imprisoning them behind bars of sizzling purple light. Danjal ran towards them, his heart in his throat, he could see Reba, her eyes wide with terror, as she screamed his name, her hands clawing futilely at the bars of her prison.

  “You’ve wanted a piece of me, spawn of Dagan.” The creature landed gracefully on its feet, blocking Danjal’s access to Reba. “Well, here I am.” He touched his bare chest with a finger, and muscles rippled in his arms and abdomen. He wore nothing but a pair of faded jeans, that hung low on his slim hips.

  “Who are you?” Danjal’s gaze raked over the angelic being, whose long black hair hung loosely about his hips. His impressive black wings flapped behind him, and wicked-looking spurs glinted in the sunlight at their tips. Danjal’s senses were in overdrive, he smelled angel blood, but there was something else, he sniffed the air. Wood smoke!

  Danjal held his arms held loosely at his sides, his fingers flexing, as Adrenaline poured into his veins. His muscles bulged, straining within the confines of his uniform, and the scars on his back tingled beneath the material of his shirt. He moved his head side to side, cracking his neck to release the tension building up within him.

  “I am the Riyon, who was written from the history books of this city, and banished from the fold. I am the Riyon whose name nobody speaks!” His mismatched blue and brown eyes glittered with fury in his hard angular face. “I am here to take back what’s mine, and I’m starting with her,” he looked at Reba. “So tell your father to back off, or I will incinerate both of them.”

  “You’re the necromancer!” Danjal thundered.

  “Such an ugly name!” Rion wrinkled his nose, “I can assure you, Demon Angel, that like you, I am a far more complex individual, than others of our kind realize.”

  “We are not alike!”

  “Wouldn’t it be great to be free Dagan, to use those wings your Diocese forbids you to use? To kill because you can, because you are superior, because it is your right to take whatever life you so desire.”

  “The only life I desire to take is yours,” Danjal retorted.

  “They prickle beneath your skin Dagan, don’t they? I can see how you battle with your demon. Come on,” he beckoned with both hands. “Let them out, set them free, if only for a short time, before I slaughter you, as I slaughtered your precious Isiah!” He goaded Danjal. “Did you like the way I strung him up on that cross?”

  “Nooooo!” The scream tore pas
t Danjal’s clenched jaw, as he lost his battle, and his wings tore through the thick scar tissue on his back. Their barbed tips ripping holes in his shirt. The agony of their release sent shudders rippling through his body, and warm blood ran rivulets down his back, soaking into his pants.

  “Did you know he called to you?” Riyon cackled. “As if you could have even heard him, your head was buried between the thighs of a vampire.”

  Danjal stood tall in his ripped shirt, arms at his sides, panting with rage and pain. From the corner of his eye, he saw the purple sheen of his violet wings, as he stretched them to their fullest potential.

  The sky above them darkened, as it filled with dark shapes of screeching creatures, that flew into the Churchlands, and over the Convent.

  “They should keep your warriors busy for a short while,” Riyon wrinkled his nose, “Because this fight won’t take long at all.”

  Driven by hatred, and an unrestrained maniacal madness, Danjal launched himself into the air, and crashed into his smirking opponent, dragging him to the ground. As they fell, he rained punches down on the Riyon’s face, used the spurs on his wings to slash at his body and arms.

  Beneath him Riyon cackled, spitting blood, he laughed up at Danjal, as they rolled over and over, wings flapping, fighting for dominance. Many times, Danjal felt the bite of Rion’s spurs, tearing into his flesh, but his mind was black with rage, and the pain didn’t register.

  “You thought I was nothing without my magic,” Rion grimaced, “but you underestimated me, and that you should never do, especially not with an enemy, you’ve never faced before.” Rion gained the dominant position over Danjal, sitting astride his hips, his clawed hand encircled Danjal’s throat.

  Danjal bucked furiously twisting his hips to throw Rion from his perch. But the strength in the hand that gripped his throat was inconceivable, and it effectively cut off his air supply.

  “My venom is well and truly in your bloodstream now, and you will grow weaker. You will lie here paralyzed, and dying, watching while I take her from you.”

  Danjal’s lungs burned for oxygen, and he felt the strength draining from his body, as his arms dropped uselessly to his sides. Where was Noah? Where were the warriors? his brain screamed. They must stop this creature from taking Reba.

  He felt the grip around his throat release, and Danjal gasped as his lungs sucked in the air they’d been starved of. The weight lifted from his body, and he squinted up at Rion. Wrath fueled his powerless body, as he howled his rage. He couldn’t recall a time he’d ever lost a fight, but here he lay, helpless, his life seeping away from him.

  “Now, now,” Rion clicked his tongue, as he stepped over Danjal. “Settle down, it will all be over soon.” Then he strutted towards the sizzling dome, that held Reba and Monique captive. He reached inside its walls, and it popped and fizzed around his arm, as he grabbed Reba by the hair, and dragged her out. “Come on, my love, it’s time to come home.”

  “Danjal? What have you done to Danjal,” Reba shrieked, as she struggled in Riyon’s grip. “You killed him,” she sobbed brokenly. “You killed him.”

  Danjal watched them, his breathing growing increasingly labored, as Riyon dug in the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a handful of bright orange and yellow flowers. Holding the struggling Reba by the scruff of her neck, he rubbed the flowers into her face holding them over her nose and mouth.

  “That should keep you quiet, sweetheart. I can’t drop such precious cargo. I have waited too long, my darling.” She struggled for several seconds before she succumbed, and her body crumpled against the Rion’s. He swept her up, and walked towards Danjal, Reba’s limp body dangling from his arms.

  “By the way, spawn of Dagan,” he sneered down at Danjal who struggled to stay conscious. “Which death will this be? I know I’ve been responsible for two.” He flapped his wings, rising from the ground, and hovered above Danjal for several seconds, before his wings propelled him up, beyond the clouds.

  Danjal lay on his back staring up at the sky, his labored breaths growing shallow, as blood oozed from his wounded body, seeping into the grass beneath him. Above him the sky grew dark, as Riyon’s minions screeched across the heavens, blotting out the sun. The last thing on his lips before he slipped away, was her name.

  “Reba.”

  About the Author

  Born and raised in Durban, South Africa, Karen now lives with her husband, and son in Australia.

  As a Registered nurse, she devotes her skill and compassion to patients in an ICU at a Brisbane hospital. She finds the heart a fascinating organ, so taking care of post-operative cardiac patients is one of her great loves.

  Her childhood home was a large wood and iron cottage, built on the banks of a river. With an enormous garden full of fruit trees, and pots overflowing with brightly colored flowers. This was she considered her Queendom, where she saw fairies and angels, gnomes, pixies and sprites. Her fantasies were encouraged by her mother, who nurtured her imagination with a constant supply of books, and bedtime stories.

  Karen’s series, the Angels of David’s Town, has been a dream she’s worked on for many years. Her inspiration for the story came from a painting of an African witchdoctor. She hangs on the wall in Karen’s living room.

  Her creation - David’s Town - is an ancient gothic city, inhabited by supernatural creatures, and protected by an army of wingless angels. The city is sacred and steeped in mystery and intrigue. The weather might be cold and dank, but her warriors and her heroines are anything but.

  You can contact Karen here:

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