Dark Angel Box Set

by Hanna Peach

  She turned as if to walk away. He grabbed her and turned her back around. She smiled again but this time it was forced. “Yes?” Impatience clouded that one little word.

  “What do you mean you own a large property in England?”

  “I don’t.”

  Jordan stared at her, confused. “But I thought you said−”

  “I said,” she interrupted, “that I own an obscenely monstrous mansion on grounds the size of a small country.”

  “Dear Cleo, as secretive and mysterious as ever. I thought you said you had no home on Earth, no family.”

  Her face soured. “That place is not a home. And I don’t have any family left. My father died when I was little and my mother,” her face twisted, “thank God, she died long ago while I was remaining ageless and fabulous in Purgatory. I inherited the mansion and the estate. Along with a few other things,” she added.

  Jordan blinked at her. “Inherited… mansion… estate… What are you, royalty or something?”

  Cleo sighed and pouted. “If you must know, my father was Duke Ellington of York. I guess that makes me a duchess.” She made a face as if the title tasted sour in her mouth. “Or something.”

  Jordan’s brain felt like it short-circuited for a second. “A duchess?!”

  “Shh.” Cleo glanced around them with furrowed brows. “Keep it down. I don’t need everyone knowing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What are you talking about? I just did.”

  Jordan made an exasperated sound. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Are there any other bombshells that I should know about?”

  Cleo screwed up her face. “Firstly, it’s not something I’m particularly fond of telling people. Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Secondly, you don’t have any rights to know any secrets of mine.”

  She whirled around and stormed off before Jordan could react.

  He stood there feeling like an idiot. What did he say to upset her? Was she really that sensitive about being a duchess?

  Jordan pressed his lips together. He didn’t have time to think about this. He turned to find Tobias so that he could help with the relocation efforts.

  Damned women. Would he ever figure them out?

  * * *

  Alyx was helping to organize the FreeThinkers into small groups so they could travel more discreetly to Cleo’s mansion. As she moved through the crowd, she spotted a willowy seraphelle holding Mini in her arms.

  “Dianne?” Alyx said, moving towards her in surprise. Dianne had been so opposed initially to letting the half-demon, half-mortal girl stay in their community. To see her now in Dianne’s arms…everything seemed upside down. Alyx pushed towards them until she stood face to face with Dianne and a sleeping Mini.

  “She’s fine,” Dianne said. “Just sleeping.”

  Mini looked so peaceful, it didn’t seem possible that she had just been evacuated and her home destroyed. If only Alyx could be so lucky to sleep through everything as the fate of the world was being decided. If only she could just close her eyes and dream until it was all over. No deaths to hang around her neck. No cursed Guardianship. No bleak destiny that they were all hurtling towards at a hundred miles an hour.

  “Alyx,” Dianne said, shaking Alyx out of her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  Alyx shook herself. She had to keep it together. Just hold on. “I’m fine. Thank you for getting Mini out of the castle. I was so worried that she had been forgotten.”

  Something flashed across Dianne’s face. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and creases appeared between her brows. “I know I may have seemed like I didn’t want her around. But it was never about her. I just wanted to protect my home, my family. Do you understand? I would never want her to come to harm. She’s…a sweet girl.” A smile came across Dianne’s face as she watched the sleeping child.

  Alyx nodded and attempted a smile. “Thanks, Dianne.” Mini’s life was just one more responsibility. One more person to worry about. Alyx reached out her arms to take the girl. “I can take her now.”

  Dianne shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got her. You have enough on your plate.”

  “I…” Alyx paused, stunned as Israel’s voice echoed again in her mind. You don’t have to do this alone.

  * * *

  Symon collapsed on his bed in a pod in Michaelea. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. It had been a bad training session. He was distracted and his flock could tell. He had even accidentally yelled “Alyx” at someone. His flock had grown silent after that.

  Alyx.

  Damn Alyx.

  That damned bracelet that Alyx had left him, now hidden under a mirage among his things, was burning a hole in his consciousness. That strange bracelet of twisted metal. He remembered what Alyx had said to him when they last saw each other.

  “Michael has a secret chamber in the woods near the top of the far side of the mountain. That’s where he was hiding Mayrekk’s prisoner’s apex. He’s keeping more secrets there. When you get to the tomb-like boulder, use this pick to help get through the shield. When you get inside, you’ll know I’m telling the truth. Don’t let Michael see that you have it.”

  She was lying.

  If she’s lying, you won’t find anything in the woods. No harm in looking. You can prove to yourself her words were rubbish and cease these infernal questions.

  But looking would mean that he was questioning and even to question his Elders was a sin. His gaze flicked over to where the pick was hidden. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

  Damn it. Symon flew up from his bed towards the pick.

  Symon’s ears prickled as he made his way through a section of forest. The bracelet that Alyx had given him was pressed in his palm. He had been berating himself for even coming out here. What would he say if he was caught by someone? How would he even explain himself?

  His thoughts cut off when he spotted a boulder shaped like a tomb, just as Alyx had said. Don’t go jumping to conclusions just yet. I’m sure that many boulders around these mountain woods could look tomb-like.

  He scanned the area, his ears pricked for any sounds. When he was sure that he was still alone out here, he veered towards the boulder. His skin rippled with the presence of magic as he neared. There’s a shield here. An entrance. An entrance to what? As he neared, goosebumps rose on his arms.

  Chapter 26

  Cleo’s mansion was so familiar… Cleo’s memory of this place, her childhood home, invaded a DreamScape that she had once entered with Alyx. It just went to show how much a person’s perception of things clouded their memory of it. In Cleo’s DreamScape the mansion loomed taller and seemed more sinister and darker. But in real life the mansion was indeed large, monstrously so, but clean and pleasant and light with large windows everywhere. Under the cover of dusk Alyx landed on the huge manicured lawn of Cleo’s mansion along with the other Seraphim.

  “This place is humongous,” Sparrow said from her side.

  “Humongous, huh?” Vix said, Xiang at her side.

  Sparrow grinned. “That’s the technical term.”

  Alyx was thankful that Vix and Xiang were keeping Sparrow entertained. Her mind was on Israel. Her whole body was drained. She felt helpless, sick with worry about where Israel was now. She still hadn’t been able to reach him through their bond.

  An eager Sparrow tugged Vix and Xiang towards the front doors that had been thrown open. Cleo was standing on one side welcoming people through. Alyx followed wordlessly behind them like a ghost.

  “Cleo, this place is something,” Vix said.

  “I thought you said that no one had lived here since your mother passed away?” said Xiang. “It looks so fresh and well kept.”

  “That’s one of the benefits of being ridiculously wealthy,” Cleo said without even a hint of showing off. “You can pay people to do things for you. I may not have been living here, but I had people looking after this place for me. I’ve sent them all away, of
course, so your supernatural abilities won’t be exposed. The fact that I haven’t aged in the last several decades wouldn’t be lost on the ones who knew me back then.” Cleo grabbed Alyx’s arm as she walked through. “Alyx, are you okay?”

  “Yes. No. Just…worried about him.”

  Cleo nodded. “Find a room. Lie down. You’ll feel better after you rest.”

  “Rest.” All her body wanted was to lie down and sleep forever. She felt the weariness right down into her bones. But how could she rest when Israel was… God, he could be anywhere now in any horrid state.

  “I hate to say this,” said Vix, “but Michael needs Israel alive. He won’t have hurt him. After you’ve had some sleep you’ll be able to think clearer. You’ll figure out a way to rescue him.”

  She hoped so. Everything depended on it.

  * * *

  After bypassing the entrance, Symon moved slowly down the dark tunnel. His heart thudding in his ears. His head, good Lord, his head was spinning. If this indeed was Michael’s chamber as Alyx had claimed it was, then it would contain proof…proof of what? He didn’t know.

  Symon stayed against the wall as he descended, relying mainly on the feeling of the wall as he moved lower into the ground. He listened carefully for any noise and his skin was hyper aware of any movement of air not created by him. Soon the passage became lighter up ahead. It appeared the tunnel opened into something, a chamber that was currently brightly lit. He drew slowly toward the opening, pausing when he heard someone speaking.

  “I call it my Tree of Knowledge.” The voice belonged to Michael.

  “What does it do?” Was that Elder Bezebel?

  “How about I show you? Just sit inside, here. That’s it.”

  Symon dared to stick his head out further. His eyes widened when he saw the giant tree-like structure in the center of the room. Huge pod-like things hung off the ends of the branches.

  “What are you doing? Elder, let me out,” Bezebel’s voice betrayed her fear.

  “You wanted a demonstration. I’m giving you one.”

  “Elder, Michael, please−”

  Michael slammed the glass door to the pod shut on Bezebel and her begging was shut out too. He floated unhurriedly down to the base of the trunk. He pressed something and the base swiveled, revealing a throne-like chair in the center of the trunk. Michael turned and sat in the chair as if it were an actual throne, then pressed and played with a control panel. The tree started to hum, a deep humming noise coming out from within and a black pulse grew from the trunk and up towards the pod. Immediately the air began to crackle with static. The hairs on Symon’s arm started to rise. It was magic. The black pulse was magic, but what the hell was the magic doing to Bezebel? What was this machine?

  Symon watched in helpless horror as Bezebel’s palms smacked against the glass of the pod while the black magic seeped into the pod, filling it like a noxious gas. Her smacking became weaker and slowed until her palms slid off the glass and disappeared. The black gas began to suck back into the branch of the machine. The black pulsing river was carrying with it a white shimmering pulse. Symon recognized the white-colored magic. It was AirWhisperer. Bezebel was an AirWhisperer.

  Now the hairs on Symon’s neck rose further, not from the static but from fear. Michael laughed as the electricity flowed down the branch and into him until it finally stopped. Michael stood up from his chair, brushing his fingers together. His fingertips crackled with white electricity. “Powerful, aren’t you, Bezebel? Daresay you’ve been training your magic in secret? Time to test your powers out.”

  Michael sent his palms out towards the air, and a huge wave went out. It pulsed around Symon, feeling him, before he could move. Oh crap. The AirWhisperer sucked back towards Michael, carrying with it his presence.

  “Seems like we have someone here who shouldn’t be,” Elder Michael’s voice boomed out. “Come out, come out, whoever you are.”

  Symon turned and flew back up the corridor, not even looking around to see whether he was recognized. He crashed and ricocheted off the walls as he flew through the darkness, his haste making him sloppy.

  “Come out,” echoed up the tunnel, spurring him on faster. There, the exit. He was almost there. If he could just get out of this tunnel, maybe he would escape unseen. Almost there. Almost−

  A huge movement of air rushed around his ankles like a giant hand, yanking him back. He kicked against it and urged himself forward, but it was useless. How do you kick off air?

  He was dragged back through the tunnel, the exit in front of him so close before, now fading and shrinking as was his hope.

  He was yanked out of the tunnel and into the bright dome space across the floor, his skin burning at the grazing contact along the ground. He stopped at the feet of Elder Michael. Symon gulped in air as he stared up at the Viking-like figure. Elder Michael’s large biceps bulged in his sleeveless tunic as he held his palms out towards him. There was an eerie glow to his eyes and a sheen of sweat coated his skin.

  “Well, well, well. Symon. And how did you find your way down here?”

  Symon pressed his lips together. He pushed himself up to his knees and tried to stand. Elder Michael flicked one of his fingers. Symon felt a giant force, like a huge heavy hand pushing down on him, flattening him to the ground.

  Michael’s eyes roamed over Symon and stopped at the bracelet on his wrist. He scowled. “Alyxandria. That annoying pest of a girl. She got to you, did she? I should have known.”

  Symon kept his mouth shut as his eyes glanced around the room searching desperately for something to use. His magic.

  Symon slid his arm out from under him and curled his fingers, pushing hard against the force that kept him on the ground. He opened his palm to Michael and sent out a pulse. Michael countered with his own DreamWalker magic. Their pulses met in the air with a lashing crackle. Blue sparks whizzed off into the air. For a second their pulses held steady against each other, but then Michael’s magic started to push back against his.

  “You fool,” Michael said. “Do you really think you could beat me in a duel?” Michael laughed and the menacing sound added to the crackle echoing through the dome.

  Symon wouldn’t give up. As he stared at the pulse moving closer to him, he gathered all his magical strength and directed it into his palm. One last ditch effort. He was able to push back for a few seconds before he felt his energy starting to fail. His body and his palm trembled with the effort.

  It was for nothing. Michael was too strong. Symon screamed as his magic collapsed. The wave of darkness rolled over him as Michael’s magic crashed through his consciousness.

  Just before everything went black, he heard Michael laughing. “What a genius idea. What poetry… Use the ‘father’ against his ‘daughter’.”

  * * *

  Alyx closed the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes, now alone in one of the many bedrooms of Cleo’s mansion. She was supposed to rest.

  Rest.

  She didn’t want to sleep, but she was just so tired.

  It was the physical weariness of the last few months, one fight after another, which sank into her bones and gripped them like weighted chains. She wanted to collapse with the weight of all the responsibility that rested squarely on her.

  It was emotional weariness, the tearing of her heart between Jordan and Israel, and her guilt over it. And other guilt: accepting a deal with Balthazar that almost cost Israel his soul, lying to her friends to keep this secret. It was knowing that a second friend had betrayed her, that she had cared for someone who would seek to ruin her. Now their community had once again been destroyed and with it, it appeared so had all of their hope.

  It was losing one friend after another…Elysia, Mayrekk, Passar. She hadn’t had time to breathe, to mourn them; instead she was forced to keep going. There was no rest for her heart, which bled even now, begging with every sickly beat for a ceasing of this torment so it could start to heal. This world, it seemed, would not allow
it.

  Now she had let Michael get hold of the last Amulet piece, a piece that Raphael had entrusted to her to keep safe, but she had failed. She had lost Israel. And she couldn’t find him.

  Her soul now felt like a ghost in her body, thin and transparent. There was no sleep deep enough that could color it. Not until Israel was back by her side. And that, right now, looked so very impossible.

  She was so tired but she needed to stay awake. Just to rest her body but to stay awake in case Israel was able to contact her. She barely noticed her surroundings as she stumbled towards the bed.

  She lay down on the covers, not even taking off her boots. She would not close her eyes. Alyx forced her pupils to stare at the elaborate painting on the ceiling. She thought she saw within the painting an image of an angel flying across the sky. The colors swirled before her eyes. She was so tired, she was going cross-eyed.

  She just needed to close her eyes for one minute. Just one minute. She just needed a second’s respite from the pressure, otherwise her mind would burst with all these thoughts. Just one moment of peace…

  “Alyx,” Israel’s voice came to her through the dark. Her eyes flew open, her skin prickling at the sound of his voice caressing her skin as he said her name again. It couldn’t be real. It was her imagination. Surely.

  It was him. Israel. He was there, right in front of her, looking as alive and solid and well as she’d ever seen him. Her heart felt like it restarted again.

  “Israel,” she ran at him, throwing herself into his arms, almost toppling him over.

  He laughed softly in her ear. “Hey, babe. You’re excited to see me.”

  Babe? That was a new nickname for her. She pulled back to look at him close up. She brushed her fingers across his hair, his cheekbones, the scar across his lip. His hazel eyes stared back at her, amused. “Looking for something?”