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 superior 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.
His eyes widened again and he looked around him at the other angels. They weren’t struggling to their feet at all. They were fighting his power. His gaze leapt to his hands, to the brilliant sparks of power as they leapt along the engraved silver and blue staff of his spear. He couldn’t believe it. He stared at it for long minutes, trying to comprehend his own strength. He had rendered the strongest of angels powerless without even realising it.
“Marcus?” Apollyon sounded hoarse and Marcus shot him an apologetic look and closed his eyes, focusing on his power.
It took him a few attempts to bring it back under complete control and to let his anger flow out of him so he no longer craved the delicious tang of blood tainting the air and the feel of it sliding over his skin.
“What are you doing here?” Apollyon again, but this time he sounded incredulous rather than pained.
Marcus opened his eyes and regarded the angels gathered before him as they slowly got to their feet. He held the gaze of each high ranking angel until they looked away, and eventually settled his eyes on his superior. The man instantly looked down at his feet.
“I have come to deliver a warning,” Marcus said and descended. He touched down close to the deep scar in the white grounds and glanced into it. There were places along the ragged line where his power had cut through to the other side, revealing chinks of light. He swallowed. He hadn’t even unleashed that much of his power in the strike. Just how strong was he now?
He pushed away his fear of his newfound power and embraced it, letting it flow through his body and imbue strength in his heart. He was strong enough to protect her now and that was all that mattered. He would protect her.
“I desire nothing more than to destroy this wretched place, to bathe the white lands of Heaven in crimson as revenge for what it has done to me and my master, but she would not want that and I have vowed to be a good man for her sake.” Marcus lowered his spear and let the staff shorten.
He broke it apart into two blades and held them down at his sides to show he was no danger to the angels present. He would not sheathe them though. They were a deterrent, there on display so no one would get any ideas. They had witnessed what he was capable of and would be foolish not to believe that he would resort to the destruction he had spoken of if they tried anything.
“My demands are simple. None will come after us. Not Heaven nor Hell’s legions. None will seek to harm Amelia. You bear witness to my appearance and my power. Amelia has the voice to command an army, to raise warriors who will aid her, to take from your ranks and give them new strength. If you leave us in peace, then we shall offer you the same respect. If you do not, then we shall destroy all who stand against us.”
The angels gathered before him glanced at each other and then looked back at him, no response leaving their lips and no sign of acceptance shining in their eyes. Their expressions remained schooled. It was the reply he had expected.
He hadn’t come here for an answer.
He had only come to deliver the warning.
He nodded and turned to Apollyon.
“I cannot involve you in this, old friend.” Marcus sheathed one of his blades and placed his hand on Apollyon’s black-armoured shoulder. “You have done enough. Return to Paris with the others. Though we shall never see each other again, I will not forget you and all you have done for me and for Amelia. I wish you good fortune.”
Apollyon nodded. “And I you.”
The dark angel beat his black wings and shot into the air. Marcus waited until he was lost to the distance and then turned back to the angels.
He regarded them all and slowly released a fraction of his power, keeping it under control this time, steadily applying the pressure on the angel
s until one by one their faces contorted with the strain of resisting him and they crumbled to their knees.
He took a step back, held his superiors gaze, and then took flight.
In time, he would know Heaven’s answer, whether it was through peace or through war.
They would be ready.
He would see to it.
CHAPTER 28
Marcus descended slowly through the layers of air, savouring the way they turned from icy cold to warm and then to hot as he approached the island. It had taken him a while to find it deep in the Pacific Ocean. At first, he hadn’t been sure where to look and had cursed himself for not asking one of the others where the island was so he could find his way back, but then he had felt a glimmer of something inside himself.
He had focused on that feeling as it beat in his heart and felt her calling to him. One heart to another. The strength of the feeling had increased as he had followed it, letting it guide his course during his descent from Heaven. Now it was so fierce that it warmed him through, drawing a smile from him as it became so clear that he could discern her emotions within it.
She worried about him.
He shook his head when he realised why.
Rather than heeding his advice, Apollyon had chosen to return to the island and had remained there with Amelia and the others.
He had wanted to keep his friends out of whatever danger lay in his and Amelia’s future, but if they chose to help him, then he wasn’t going to turn them away. His desire to protect Amelia demanded that he accept their assistance. They had all been invaluable over the past few weeks and he couldn’t thank them enough for everything they had done for him, and for Amelia.
The island grew out of the heat haze, the halo of crisp white sand gleaming around the dense green core, and deep blue ocean gave way to clear turquoise shallows.
Marcus approached the tropical paradise from the far side, flying over the quiet beach and tall palm trees that fringed the shore, and then the lush centre. His heartbeat quickened with anticipation of seeing Amelia again and having her in his arms once more. He wanted nothing more than to feel her nestled close against him, her warm soft hands pressed into his chest, and her beautiful grey eyes locked with his. He wanted to stroke her face and lose himself in her, and the love they shared, even if it was only for a short while.
Heaven would heed his warning, but for how long?
It didn’t matter when they came. He would be ready for them.
The sweeping inlet on the other side of the island came into view and he spotted the thatched huts through the thinning palms. A smile broke out on his lips and his heart leapt when he saw Amelia standing on the shore, her back to him. Was she watching for him?
He was sure that she could feel him in her heart just as he could feel her.
He beat his wings and came down a few metres behind her, gliding to land silently on the soft white sand. She didn’t stir. Marcus smiled mischievously and padded towards her. He felt eyes on him but ignored the owners of them, not wanting to risk Amelia noticing him by signalling his friends to be quiet.
Marcus brought his hands out before him, dropped his gaze to rest on the remains of her white dress as it fluttered against her thighs in the warm breeze and then settled it on her luscious hips. Target acquired.
She yelped the moment his hands caught her hips and he twisted her in his arms, narrowly avoiding the fist that flew at his face.
Her scowl quickly gave way to a smile so warm and full of affection that it pierced his soul and he couldn’t resist his desire any longer. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest, and smiled when she made a stiff motion with her right hand and his breastplate disappeared. It seemed she was already growing used to some of her powers.
The feel of her softness against the hardness of his torso, her warm palms pressing into his pectorals and her heart beating against his, instilled peace in him. He exhaled slowly and then drew in a breath, catching her fragrance. It deepened the tranquillity flowing through him and he closed his eyes, bent his head, and pressed his lips against her silver hair.
“I was so worried about you,” she whispered and stroked his chest, her fingertips tracing swirling patterns that burned into his skin and threatened to turn his mood from peaceful to hungry for her.
“I know.” He pressed another long kiss to her hair and she drew back, her hands sliding down to settle on his waist. The warmth of them and the fire they stirred in his veins was too much to bear so he caught her hands and tangled them together with his between their bodies. Her grey eyes sought an answer to a silent question. “I felt your fear.”
He brought their joined hands to his chest and smoothed her palms over it. She stared at them and the call from her heart to his came again, stronger than it had ever been. Her eyes rose to meet his, her rosy lips parting as she tilted her head back.
“I feel so connected to you.” Her fingertips caressed his chest, maddening him with the desire for more. He thought about removing her hands again but his need to feel her skin-to-skin with him was too great. He craved the contact too fiercely to break away.
“And I you,” he whispered and dipped his head.
Amelia lifted her chin and he accepted the invitation to kiss her, bringing his mouth gently down over hers. She leaned into him, tiptoed, and swept her tongue along the seam of his lips. He groaned and danced his lips over hers, caressed her tongue with his own, and fought his need to drag her closer to him and devour her. The brush of her hands over his bare chest and the sweet moan that left her lips broke his restraint.
Marcus fisted his left hand into her hair, tangling his fingers in the long silver threads, and dragged her against him. She moaned again, heated and hungry, and he bent into her, pressing the full length of his body into hers. The action only elicited another delicious whisper of pleasure from her and only served to torture him further, but it felt too good to shift away from her and end his torment. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, drinking in her taste and losing himself in her. Time drifted away, carrying the world with it, and endless minutes passed as he explored her lips with his own. Each sweep of them against hers and each meeting of their tongues drove the world a little further away. She arched into him, pressing her breasts against his chest, and he felt the pounding of her heart, felt her need rise to match his, and felt powerless to deny his hunger.
All too soon, Amelia stepped back, her breathing as ragged in his ears as his own was and her cheeks flushed crimson.
He frowned.
Embarrassed?
She cast her grey gaze to her right and he remembered that they weren’t alone.
Marcus turned slowly to face the others.
Four of them were staring at him and Amelia.
The other two?
Taylor had Einar in an embrace that Marcus ached to re-enact with Amelia. Taylor’s legs were around Einar’s waist, her arms around his neck, and Einar’s hands gripped Taylor’s backside, squeezing firmly as he kissed her. Marcus glanced at Amelia, catching a flash of her in the small black bikini she had worn in that other world when he had held her like that, standing in the water with her wrapped around him. He looked past her to the tempting turquoise waters. He wanted to do that again.
Apollyon strode across the white sand, his blue eyes raking over Marcus’s silver armour and then his wings. “That is a new look for you. It suits you well and I am glad love has turned you foolish enough to embrace such an appearance, and your new master.”
“Because Heaven saw it?”
“Because they saw it, and I used it to illustrate my point.”
“Was my showing up there part of your plan?” Marcus said and when Apollyon only smiled, he knew that his friend had expected him to find his way back into Heaven and to showcase his power and Amelia’s ability to turn angels to her cause.
“Amelia’s blood is of no use to them now that the planets are no longer in alignment, and my threat to allow the Devil to win our ne
xt match when coupled with your display of power will go a long way towards convincing them that it is better Amelia is allowed to live rather than die.”
Serenity came up beside Apollyon, wearing a short pale dress that matched her fair hair that she had twirled into a knot at the back of her head.
“Will they come after her?” she said, concern in her hazel eyes.
Apollyon’s grim look matched how Marcus felt about the answer to that question.
“I doubt they would do so right away. They have their hands full with the damage done to Heaven and the demons I allowed to escape… but I fear they will come after her one day,” Marcus said and clenched his fists, resolve flowing through him. “I will be ready when they do.”
Lukas and Annelie joined them, both of them dressed in swimwear, and Taylor finally released Einar. He set her down, smiled sheepishly at Marcus, and then led her over to him.
Amelia slipped her arm around Marcus’s and held it with both hands. Her side pressed against his and he looked down into her eyes, absorbing the love that shone in them.
“We will be ready when they do,” she said with determination.
Marcus looked at the others and they all nodded, even Lukas. He didn’t know how to thank them, so he nodded, silently accepting their support. It was more than he could have asked for.
He would do everything in his power to protect Amelia, and with the help of his friends, he was sure they could keep her safe. She was his now. His to protect, to cherish and care for. His to love.
And he loved her with all of his heart.
Marcus looked down at Amelia, gathered her into his arms and kissed her again. Apollyon made a disgusted noise and Marcus sensed everyone move away, leaving them alone. He slipped his hand into hers and walked with her along the beach, heading away from their friends to a quiet spot where rocks reached out into the endless clear sparkling water.
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 32
