Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5)

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Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 19

by Felicity Heaton


  “I need your assistance with something.” Marcus stepped forward.

  At that same moment, the four women came in from the kitchen. Serenity hurried towards Apollyon and he smiled at her. Apollyon’s blue eyes rose to take in the other women and darkness crossed his face and his irises brightened. Serenity stopped dead. A wave of anger crashed through the room and Marcus could only stare at Apollyon as his black wings tore through his crisp white dress shirt and he let out an ungodly growl. His clothing shredded, revealing his black armour, the gold edging and the rampant lions on his vambraces gleaming in the bright expansive room.

  He clutched at the sides of his head, burying his fingers into his long black hair and tugging strands free of his ponytail.

  “Apollyon… what is wrong, mon ange?” Serenity went to move but stopped again when he raised his head, his vivid blue eyes locking on her. A pained look crossed his face and then he growled again.

  “Must leave… send me far away… far… now! All in danger.” Apollyon pressed his fingers into the sides of his head and hunched over. “Now, Serenity!”

  The world shifted around Marcus, swirling and distorting in a way that made him feel as though his insides were doing the same, and when it came back again, they were standing in the middle of a corn field with Paris far in the distance.

  Apollyon looked up, sheer horror on his face. “No… what did you do… I said to send me.”

  Marcus moved towards Amelia when Apollyon looked at her, his pupils narrowing and then widening, flickering between the two. Apollyon shook his head, closed his eyes, and then looked at Serenity, imploring her.

  “Run… get away from me.” The desperation in his tone sent a bolt of fear through Marcus.

  He caught hold of Amelia’s hand, sent his clothes away and called his armour. He grabbed one of the blades from his waist and clutched it tightly, watching Apollyon for a sign he might attack. Einar must have sensed something too because he motioned for Taylor to come to him. Lukas moved to stand in front of Annelie, shielding the redhead with his body.

  “Apollyon?” Serenity’s voice trembled. “What is wrong?”

  Apollyon snarled, whimpered and then looked at her, his eyes full of pleading. “Take them and go… please? I cannot… I cannot fight it.”

  Serenity took a step backwards, away from him, her pale dress blending into the corn that reached to her hips. She looked over her shoulder at Marcus and the others. Marcus wasn’t sure what was happening and it seemed the rest didn’t either. Apollyon had been fine when he had first arrived in the apartment. It was only once the women had come through that he had changed.

  Marcus’s eyes widened.

  It was when he had set eyes on Amelia.

  There was only one explanation Marcus could come up with and it chilled him to the bone.

  Heaven wanted her dead and was ordering Apollyon to do it.

  “Take them,” Apollyon whispered. “I will hold off as long as I can.”

  “I can’t.” Serenity shook her head. “I used all my power to bring us here.”

  “No.” Apollyon stared at her, horror filling his bright blue eyes. Tears laced his dark lashes, trembling on the brink of falling, and his struggle was visible for all to see. His battle against whatever order was being sent to him was tearing him apart along with the fear of hurting those he cared about. “No… why… why did you have to come? Why?”

  The tears in Apollyon’s eyes fell when he looked at Marcus, dashing down his cheeks. He had never seen such pain in his friend or witnessed such torment. It was so strong that Marcus could feel a sliver of it mingling with his own fear.

  “I should never have set eyes on her… I do not want this.”

  The truth in those words and the agony that crossed Apollyon’s face as he struggled with himself drew a dark curse from Marcus. He couldn’t imagine the depth of what his friend was feeling or what it would be like to do something against his wishes, to have Heaven seize command of his body, but he knew one thing. It was killing Apollyon and it wouldn’t be long before he lost what little control he had over himself.

  Marcus guided Amelia behind him and shielded her with his wings.

  “Stop this,” Serenity said in a commanding tone and Apollyon looked at her, his jetty eyebrows furrowed, and shook his head. “I order you to stop this.”

  “No use.” Apollyon held his hand out in front of him and a curved golden blade appeared in his grasp. “It won’t work… our contract cannot override something I was born to do. This is my eternal duty.”

  Marcus stared at him. Apollyon was unlike other angels in one respect. He had an eternal duty that could never be erased. Even if Apollyon fell from grace like Einar, he would be called upon to use his powers during an apocalyptic event, either to trigger or halt it. It was the reason he had been born.

  “Run,” Apollyon ground the word out and then stared at Marcus. “I cannot hold it back… this fury… she must take it.”

  A thousand tiny needles pricked down Marcus’s spine. He didn’t know why Heaven had ordered Apollyon to kill Amelia and he didn’t care. There was no way that he was going to let anything happen to her. Even if her survival meant the end of the world as they knew it, even if her existence beyond this point caused a catastrophe, he wasn’t going to let her die. He couldn’t allow it. Not even if it was Heaven’s decree.

  “No!” Marcus stepped forwards, keeping hold of Amelia’s hand. It trembled in his. Her fear flowed into him and he wanted to take it away and tell her that nothing was going to happen to her, but he couldn’t lie. All he could do was protect her.

  “She must! It is her destiny.” Apollyon struggled and then brought his other hand forwards and a second curved golden blade appeared in it. He spread his black wings and the sky above them darkened, heavy clouds blocking out the sun. The air around Marcus cooled, turning frigid, and he hesitated.

  Destiny wasn’t set in stone for anyone. He wasn’t going to step aside and let her die. The slightest thing could change her fate and he was willing to do all in his power to ensure that change happened.

  Even if it came down to sacrificing himself in her place.

  Einar and Lukas moved away, leading the three other women off to a distance. He wanted them to take Amelia too and leave him to fight Apollyon but it wouldn’t do any good. The battle and pain in Apollyon’s blue eyes told Marcus that much. Apollyon was no longer in control of himself and if Amelia went to the others, there was a chance he would attack and hurt them all. Apollyon was already suffering enough. If he harmed Serenity, it would kill him. Marcus couldn’t let that happen, but he couldn’t let him kill Amelia either.

  “You must allow this to happen for the sake of mankind.”

  Marcus shook his head. “I cannot do that. I won’t let you hurt her.”

  “Then you must take this wrath upon yourself.” Apollyon raised both of his curved blades and the black clouds gathered above them swirled and opened to reveal a circle of blue sky.

  The wind increased, sending the golden corn swaying and ruffling both Marcus’s and Apollyon’s feathers as they stood facing each other barely twenty metres apart.

  “Try to take it easy on me,” Marcus said with a half-smile and pushed Amelia behind him. He braced one foot out in front of him, drew his other blade, and brought his arms together in front of his face so his vambraces were shielding his head. The two ends of the grips on his weapons moulded together on contact and then extended until he held an engraved blue and silver staff tipped with two curved silver blades. “Fight it if you can.”

  “I will try. Forgive me.” Apollyon threw his head back and yelled at the sky.

  “No!” Amelia shrieked.

  White light shot down in a twisting beam from the hole in the sky, hit Apollyon’s crossed golden blades, and rocketed towards Marcus. Marcus didn’t have a chance to brace before it hit him. The first blast of power burned over him, bouncing off his vambraces and cutting into two shafts of light as it hit his s
pear. It was far stronger than he had anticipated. He hunched forwards, leaning into the light, and closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wasn’t strong enough to survive such a direct assault and something told him that it was only going to get worse. If Apollyon increased the power of his attack, it wouldn’t be long before Marcus didn’t have the energy to deflect it.

  He had fought great powers before but they were nothing compared with the furnace blasting him now, pushing him backwards towards Amelia. Marcus took a laboured step forwards and growled, his teeth clamped together so hard they hurt. He pushed forwards, sheer desperation driving him. He had to protect Amelia.

  Another wave crashed over him, stronger this time, and his knees threatened to give out. Tears filled his eyes and streamed across his temples and into his hair as he endured it. It tore at him, heating his body as it whipped against him, lacerating his armour. He focused his power and fought it even as his hope of saving her faded. The longer he withstood it and shielded Amelia, the more time Apollyon had to fight for control over himself. He was counting on his friend.

  The beam increased in power and his right arm slipped under the intensity of it. It struck his right shoulder, knocking it backwards and unbalancing him. He immediately brought his right armguard up again, battling through the burning light to get it back in front of his face.

  Marcus gritted his teeth, planted his feet firmly on the burning ground, and called all of his strength, using his power to deflect the destructive force battering him. His right arm blazed so hot that it was numb and fiery needles pierced his shoulder where the light had caught his flesh.

  There was no hope for him now. He knew that. All he could do was shield Amelia until the last of his strength left him and he could no longer withstand Apollyon’s attack, and then it would tear through him and through her.

  He had never wished for strength as much as he did now. With more power, he might have been able to defeat Apollyon and save her. He wished he could do that for her sake. He had changed nothing by taking her fate upon himself.

  He had failed her.

  She at least deserved him to die for her because of that.

  He would die for her.

  The layers of blue on his vambraces wore away under the force of the golden light. Flakes of the enamel flew past his face, catching his cheeks and ears, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake. The steel blades of his spear melted and dripped to the ground, hissing as the flames there engulfed them. The strength of the light increased again, pushing against him, and as he braced himself, he felt his armour fracturing and burning away.

  His focus moved to Amelia where she huddled behind him, her fear and pain as real in his veins as his own, and he wished that he could see her one last time. He wished that he could look upon her beautiful face and tell her that he was sorry.

  He wished he could tell her that he loved her.

  In his attempt to save her, he had brought her to meet her fate, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now. He wasn’t strong enough to defeat Apollyon, not even when he wanted it with all of his heart so he could keep his promise and protect her.

  Another blast of light shattered his vambraces and tore at his feathers, ripping them away. He bore the pain, pleading for it to end and for Amelia to be safe. He had to stand firm and last a little longer. He had to for her sake.

  In the midst of the deafening roar and searing pain, Marcus found calm, a feeling of emptiness and a sense that he was no longer alive. Was this death? He had never been aware of it before.

  Apollyon stood before him, darkness embodied with his black armour and wings and vicious blades, and light surrounded him, so bright that he couldn’t see anything else. He looked into Apollyon’s eyes and saw the anguish there, and the tears streaking his cheeks as he directed the might of his power at Marcus. Marcus couldn’t hate him for what he had done. They were all pawns for their master, slaves to his voice. The light faded enough that he could see Serenity and the others as they tried to stop Apollyon. There was such pain in his fellow warrior’s eyes and Marcus was sorry that he had made him do this.

  He sensed Amelia behind him.

  He didn’t want to die.

  The power ripped through his arms, cutting him to the bone, and slashed at his legs.

  He didn’t want to leave her even when he knew that he must in order to attempt to protect her and the world.

  His life was eternal. This wasn’t death. It was only a new beginning.

  He grimaced when a stronger wave of power struck him, tearing into his wings and his chest. The remains of his spear crumbled under the intense heat. The last of his strength slipped away.

  He battled his pain and focused everything he had left on enduring Apollyon’s attack for Amelia. For his love. There was no hope for him but he still had hope for her. He would die here, now, and though that filled him with immense sorrow because he would never see Amelia’s smile again or touch her soft face, he could at least say that he had died for a purpose—protecting her to the end—and that he had died knowing what love was.

  His heart burned in agony with the knowledge that he would be reborn but would never remember her. He wanted to see her again, wanted to find her in his new lifetime. It was impossible. He was destined to live again knowing that a part of him was missing only never knowing why. He could only hope that his death meant Amelia’s survival.

  The silence around him ceased and the roar of death filled his ears. He lowered his arms and stood tall to face it, raising his chin. It was over. His power was gone now, his body too weak to continue the fight, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

  Nothing could save him now.

  His eyes widened as a shape broke the light and tears stung them as it came into focus.

  Amelia stood with her back to him, her arms outstretched, shielding him from the wrath of Apollyon’s power with her fragile body.

  “Amelia!” Marcus reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and turned his back on Apollyon, falling to his knees at the same time.

  He held her close to him as he battled to remain conscious, tears blurring his vision. He tried to blink them away but more came. He needed to see her again. Just one last time before he died. It was all he wanted. His final wish.

  The heat of power against his back abated but it wasn’t soon enough. Marcus collapsed against her frail form and drifted into the darkness.

  He knew what the end of Apollyon’s attack meant.

  He had failed her.

  Amelia was gone.

  CHAPTER 16

  Pain beat deep in Marcus’s chest and throbbed through his bones. He couldn’t recall a time when his rebirth had hurt. His first memories last time he had died were full of warmth and light, not agony and darkness. How had he remembered that?

  Marcus slowly opened his eyes. The bright light he expected wasn’t there. A dull golden glow filled his blurred vision. Shapes shifted across the fuzzy canvas, growing darker and then lighter, and he tried to focus on them. The only sound that came to him was a high pitched ringing. He frowned, drew in a shaky breath, and blinked several times. His entire arm burned when he lifted it and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, trying to clear his vision. It helped a little.

  A darker shape appeared in front of him, coming in from his right. No, not in front of him. Above him, he realised as something prickly dug into his bare back, bottom and legs.

  He narrowed his eyes and the shape grew clearer. He recognised them.

  Taylor.

  He wasn’t dead.

  “Keep still.” Her voice was distant in his ears, watery sounding. She placed her hands on his bare shoulders when he tried to sit up, pushing him down into the sharp spikes sticking into his back. He grimaced and then stared at her, trying to get his head back into order and remember what had happened. He had been sure that he was going to die.

  Other voices started to drift through the ringing in his ears as it dulled and he tilted his head to one side. Across s
corched black ground he saw Einar knelt beside someone, his hands shining brightly as he swept them over her body, light beaming down on her. Marcus looked at his hand and then his arm. He could remember his flesh burning away under the duress of Apollyon’s power. It was perfect again now. Not a scratch or a bruise to show for his battle.

  His eyes slowly widened as more came back to him and he looked back at Einar.

  Amelia.

  Serenity knelt on the other side of Amelia’s body to Einar, her eyes closed and words Marcus couldn’t hear falling from her lips.

  Marcus shoved Taylor aside when she tried to stop him again and pushed himself up. He made it onto his knees and then retched, coughing up blood onto the charred stubs of corn.

  “You shouldn’t move.” Taylor tried to take hold of his arm.

  He shirked her grip and continued, bringing his right knee up first and setting his foot down, and then slowly following it with his left. It took all of his strength to push himself up into a standing position and all of his willpower to remain there once he managed it. The sharp broken stems of corn pierced his bare feet but he didn’t care. His head spun and the urge to vomit rose up again. He swallowed it down and stared blankly at Amelia’s body as Einar and Serenity worked furiously to save her. Was it too late?

  Taylor spoke to him again, her words lost on him. He couldn’t rest. Not now.

  He laboured onwards, the warm air washing over his bare body, the gentle whisper of it and the effort of moving causing every inch of him to ache and throb.

  Apollyon paced a short distance away with Lukas and his redheaded woman speaking to him. He didn’t look as though he was listening. The agitated way he moved backed up the anger Marcus could feel burning within him. The sky above them was black, the clouds heavy and forbidding, and not even the light of sunrise could warm them. They were as dark as the man controlling them, turbulent to reflect his distress. Heaven would pay for what they had made Apollyon do, Marcus was sure of that, but it wasn’t any consolation.

 

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