Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series

by Heaton, Felicity

  “I’ve put you all through so much trouble,” Amelia said on a sigh and Marcus squeezed her hand to comfort her.

  “Apollyon likes trouble. He will probably thank you for it later.” Marcus smiled for her and she managed one in return.

  A warm breeze sent several pale blue butterflies dancing between Marcus and Einar, and then a voice boomed out of the heavens.

  “Get your arses back here, Romeo and co.”

  The world around them darkened and Marcus frowned as incredible tiredness crashed over him and he ached right down to his bones. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a thatched ceiling made of what looked like twigs. Warm air lingered around him, humming with the sound of insects, and the smell of the sea carried on it.

  Where had Serenity moved them to?

  He looked to his left when something moved there and smiled when he saw Amelia lying next to him, a similarly confused look on her face. Her wings were gone but he knew that it wouldn’t always be that way. Whenever she needed them, she would only have to call them, just like him. He would always be there for her, ready to do whatever she asked of him, protecting her to the end.

  She looked over at him and a smile curved her lips, reaching her grey eyes.

  “How are you feeling?” she said and rubbed her face. “Feels as though we were asleep forever.”

  It had felt like only a few hours to him.

  Marcus reached over, caught her wrist, and pulled her against him. She giggled when he kissed her and he relished how it felt to do this in reality. They would always be together now. He wouldn’t allow anyone to separate them again and he wouldn’t let anything happen to Amelia. He would keep his promise. He would be a good man for her. Starting right now.

  He stood, pulled her to her feet, and beat his wings to get used to them.

  Amelia’s smile faltered. “You’re going back there, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. The look in her eyes and the feelings flowing into him from her conveyed that she didn’t want that to happen but he knew that she wouldn’t stop him.

  “I have to,” he said and smiled for her. Power flowed through him, stronger than he had ever felt, and he drew a deep breath, savouring the feeling. “I feel invincible… is this your doing?”

  Amelia shook her head, surprising him. “No. I haven’t given you any of my own power. I wouldn’t know how. You were always this strong, Marcus, you just never believed that you were. Belief is a powerful thing.”

  Marcus felt the truth in those words in his heart. When he had been in that room in Heaven on the verge of obeying his orders, it had been Amelia’s confession of love and his belief in the depth of that feeling, and in the depth of his love for her, that had given him the strength to fight back.

  He believed in their love and in her, and he knew that she would never betray him, and that she believed in him too. She had faith in his strength and his promise to protect her. Armed with that faith, he felt invincible.

  He felt he could take on Heaven and win.

  Amelia stepped up to him, rested her hand against his cheek, and smiled into his eyes, affection shining in the warm grey depths of hers. “You found a reason to believe in your power and a reason to fight, and that’s why you feel stronger now. And that’s why you have to come back to me, you understand? Promise me that you’ll come back.”

  Marcus placed his hand over hers, holding it against his face, and bent his head. He brushed his lips across hers, savouring their softness and how sweetly she responded to the kiss, and then drew back.

  “That is an order I can easily obey,” he whispered and she smiled, her beauty catching his breath and stealing it away. “I will never leave you, Amelia.”

  He took a step back, lowered her hand from his face, and led her from the hut. Turquoise blue sea stretched into the distance beyond a crisp white sandy shore fringed with swaying palm trees. An island. What better place to hide them than somewhere remote and small?

  Amelia would be safe here until he returned.

  Marcus looked along the shore to the next hut.

  “Lukas,” he said and the sandy-haired man looked his way and then left Serenity and Annelie.

  “Glad to see you back with us.” Lukas clapped a hand down on Marcus’s shoulder.

  “Can you do me a favour?” Marcus looked up at the endless blue sky. “I need to get into Heaven but I have a feeling they won’t exactly welcome me with open arms now, and I need to get into the fortress and to Apollyon as soon as possible.”

  He brought his gaze back down to Lukas. Serenity and Annelie had joined him, their expressions as curious as his friend’s was.

  “I can send you in, but you will come out in the detention block,” Lukas said.

  Marcus nodded. “That is fine. I can deal with things from there.”

  Lukas didn’t look convinced.

  Amelia slipped her hand into his and he gave it a gentle squeeze to reassure her.

  “You’re going back?” Einar said as he joined them with Taylor in tow. It was good to see her safely out of Hell.

  “I must.”

  Einar nodded, understanding shining in his deep brown eyes. “I would do the same.”

  Marcus glanced down at Amelia, brushed his thumb over her cheek in a light caress, and then released her hand. He took a few steps backwards, placing some distance between himself and everyone else, and blew out his breath to steady his nerves. He was strong enough to do this. He looked into Amelia’s eyes and the belief in them boosted his strength, filling his heart with resolve and empowering him.

  “Ready when you are, Lukas.”

  Bright white light blinded him.

  ***

  Chapter 27

  The light engulfing Marcus stung his eyes and burned against his skin. That wasn’t a good sign. It swirled around him and he sensed himself rising although he couldn’t see his surroundings. Every time a ribbon of light purer than the others brushed across his flesh it felt like a razor scraped over his skin, dragging numbness in its wake.

  His haste to reach Heaven might end up costing him at this rate. He hadn’t considered the changes he had undergone and the implications they would have. Normally when he travelled within the light to Heaven, it was warm and tingly, not cold and sharp.

  Marcus tilted his head backwards and gazed into the infinite brilliant white above him.

  When he reached the detention block, would he be able to escape?

  When an angel used the light in the manner that Lukas had, the captive was sent straight into a cell.

  Those cells were designed to dampen the power of demons, rendering them weak and leaving them with only enough strength to remain conscious and answer the questions of their captors. If the changes that had occurred when Amelia had bound them as master and servant had shifted him away from the biology of an angel and into demon territory, then he was going to be in trouble when the light receded. He would have barely enough strength to fight the weakest of angels and win, and the guards patrolling the detention block were stronger than most in Heaven.

  His stomach twisted, turned and then the light began to dull. It flickered to reveal glimpses of his new surroundings and then faded completely.

  Marcus drew in several deep breaths to steady his stomach and flexed his fingers, trying to sense whether he still had his powers without using them. He couldn’t draw attention to himself. Not until he was sure that he could escape.

  Grimy white walls enclosed him in a solid hexagon. Not a window or door broke the smooth surfaces, but Marcus knew better than to trust his eyes. On the other side of one of the walls would be a door, hidden from him where he stood inside the cell.

  What cluster was he in?

  There were thousands of interlocking circular clusters of the hexagonal cells, punctuated by round open spaces in the centre of them and linked by hallways. Together they formed an intricate hexagon that stretched as far as the eye could see. Hopefully, Lukas had sent him to one of the outer rings. He
didn’t like his odds of making it through the entire complex unnoticed if he was on one of the inner rings of cells.

  Marcus walked forwards, pressed the flat of his palm against the dirty wall, and closed his eyes, trying to sense what was on the other side.

  A flicker of something there brought a smile to his face and warm relief to his heart.

  Not a demon then.

  Whatever he had become on forming the pact between himself and Amelia, he wasn’t wholly demonic. If a trace of his angelic side lingered, he would be able to walk right out the door once he located it.

  The wall his palm rested against backed onto another cell. Occupied by the feel of it. The blockers were in place, creating a buzz on his senses.

  Marcus walked on, trailing his hand along the wall, his focus wholly on it and sensing what was on the other side. The next wall was void of feeling, and the next produced the same sensation. The fourth wall sent a wash of tingles over his palm. Occupied again, but the blockers were different this time and he suspected he knew why. The captive wasn’t one hundred percent demonic. Special precautions had been taken with that cell.

  The next wall was blank again, and the final wall. He paused and pushed his hand forwards and was met with resistance. He pressed his hand harder into the cold wall, and smiled grimly when his arm disappeared up to his elbow, the material that formed the door to the cell thick like molasses against his skin.

  Marcus followed his hand into the wall, battling against the barrier, and pulled in a deep breath before his head entered. The substance sucked at his flesh and pressed into his body, almost forcing the air from his lungs. He waded through it, tired from having to push so hard, and his hands broke through the surface on the other side and into warm air.

  Partly demonic, he surmised as he finally reached the circular courtyard. An angel would have been able to walk out of the cell as though there wasn’t a door at all.

  A twinge stabbed his chest at the thought that there was no turning back for him now. He had given himself to Amelia, and he was glad that he had and didn’t regret it, but it was going to take him time to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer truly an angel.

  He unfurled his wings and looked at their hybrid form. Neither demon nor angel. Something in between. Something new, like Amelia. If she could cope with what she had become, could bravely accept that she was different now and embrace that side of herself, then so could he. He had asked her for these wings and she had blessed him with them, and he would never forget that.

  Amelia had given him purpose. She had given him a reason to fight.

  And fight he would.

  He would fight so she didn’t have to. He would fight so no one would dare come after her or seek to harm her ever again. He would fight so they could be together.

  Marcus scanned his surroundings. Black and deep blue doorways punctuated the bright white semi-circle of cells behind him. Black meant occupied. The doors on either side of the cell he had exited were as dark as sin, but there was a red hue to the one to the right. The one with a special blocker in place.

  He needed to buy himself time to get out of the detention block and into the main fortress, and pandemonium would give him just that.

  Without a second thought, Marcus swept his hand towards the crimson tinted door on his right. It responded to his power and faded to reveal the cell on the other side.

  A man stood there.

  His red-ringed eyes shifted to Marcus, narrowed, and turned vivid scarlet. Marcus felt the man’s anger reflected within him. He should have known that his superior had lied to him about the demonic angel killing itself in transit. Escaping the light was impossible. His superior had told Marcus the man was dead so he wouldn’t ask questions about him and his motive for attacking Amelia. He had done it to keep him in the dark so he would continue to obey his orders.

  “I am not here to fight you.” Marcus spread his wings so the Hell’s angel saw them. “Our fight has long passed. Amelia has awoken and I will not allow any to harm her again. If you wish to fight me, then do so, but know I will kill you.”

  The man looked him over, gaze lingering on his wings, and then stalked out of the cell.

  “Go, escape with the others when I release them… I only ask you cause a little devastation on your way out.” Marcus held his gaze until the man grinned to reveal sharp red teeth and nodded.

  His skin blackened and he doubled in breadth and grew in stature. Dragon-like wings unfurled from his back and he growled before unleashing a roar.

  There was a moment of silence and then alarms blared.

  The Hell’s angel grunted, beat his wings, and took flight, ascending into the open air above the cells.

  Marcus swept his hand out towards the other black door and it opened. Heavy footsteps rang down the corridors on both sides of him. This was taking too long. He needed to get all the doors open at once.

  He glanced up. Angels were already battling above him, trying to subdue the Hell’s angel. If he flew, they might spot him, but he needed altitude if he was going to set all the captives free.

  With a single beat of his wings, Marcus lifted into the air. They felt different, strange and new, and it took him a few moments to grow used to flying with them. By the time he was accustomed to them, he was over forty foot above the cells. They created a spiralling pattern of circles below him and he could see the ranks of angels as they marched in formation through the complex.

  Marcus focused his power, flapped his wings to remain stationary, and then unleashed it with a wave of his hand. One by one, the black doors disappeared and their inmate escaped. The angels below broke rank to deal with the demons as they wreaked havoc. He smiled grimly, turned in the air, and dove back down so he was flying only a few feet above the flat tops of the cells. He flung his hand out before him, opening every cell between him and the detention block exit ahead.

  Demons spilled out into the corridors and tried to grab him as he flew past. He twisted and turned in the air to evade them and then landed heavily in one of the corridors of the outer ring of cells and broke into a run.

  The moment he was clear of the last row of cells, he dived down a side corridor and focused. With the angels occupied by trying to recapture the demons, he would be able to pass as a regular angel but only if his wings were away. His armour was different to anyone else’s but only in colouring. If luck were with him, the angels rushing into the detention block to help contain the demons would be in too much of a hurry to notice.

  The angels that waited ahead in the fortress would be a different matter, and he still didn’t know where Apollyon had gone.

  Marcus waited for the next wave of angels to pass him and then bolted out of his hiding spot and made a break for the exit. He pounded the steps and kept his head down as another group of angels came towards him. None of them even looked at him. They were too busy listening to the orders of their commander as he led the charge. Marcus’s heart pounded and he fought to steady it and to contain the turbulent emotions racing through his blood. Now wasn’t the time for fear or doubts. Now was the time to fight.

  He could feel the fear of battle later, once he was back in Amelia’s arms and she was finally safe.

  He turned down one corridor after another, heading upwards whenever he could, and finally broke out into the open white grounds of Heaven.

  His eyes widened.

  He didn’t need to search for Apollyon after all.

  The dark angel was standing barely two hundred metres away, surrounded by a mixture of mediators and guardians, and the occasional hunter and angel of death.

  In amongst them was a face that Marcus had been itching to see since Apollyon had taken Amelia’s life.

  His superior.

  Marcus’s wings burst free of his back and he sprinted towards the older sandy-haired angel, driven by fury and the pain of seeing Amelia die. He drew both of his curved silver blades, kicked off the ground, and flew at him.

  His super
ior turned towards him. So did several other high ranking angels.

  When his superior raised his hand to signal the others to stand down and narrowed his gaze on Marcus, he expected to feel the pressing weight of his power driving him into the ground. He didn’t. Rather than the oppressive sense of weakness that he usually felt when his superior lost his temper and tried to put Marcus in his place, he felt only a small amount of pressure.

  Marcus brought the ends of the grips of his two blades together and they melded and then extended into his double-ended spear. He roared and cut through the air with it, scattering the angels surrounding his superior in all directions, and then levelled his glare on him.

  Anger pounded through his body and thrummed in his blood, a drug that addled his mind and called him to surrender to his desire for violence. He battled it, told himself that fighting this man would get him nowhere, but the lure was too sweet to resist. He growled out his frustration, twirled his spear in his hands, and swept it through the air again, sending another shockwave crashing into the ground. It rent the earth bare metres to the left of his superior, gouging a great gash in the pristine white land.

  Blue-white sparks of power crackled across the backs of Marcus’s hands and along the shaft of his spear.

  He wanted more.

  “Marcus.” Apollyon’s voice cut through the red haze of rage in his mind, bringing clarity with it.

  Marcus looked down at the scored ground, the angels as they struggled to their feet, and finally his superior.

  The man kneeled below him, pallid and clutching his stomach. Sweat dotted his brow and exertion tightened the lines of his face.

  Marcus didn’t understand.

  His gaze tracked down to Apollyon. The dark angel stood off to his right, his face pale and expression grim. His limbs visibly trembled, as though he was battling to remain standing. Was he still weak from using his powers to gain Marcus access to Heaven? Apollyon’s blue eyes brightened and he grunted and fell to one knee, his right hand pressing hard into the white grass beneath him. His laboured breaths and the pain in his face as he raised it towards Marcus were familiar enough that he realised what was happening.