Fallen Angel 4: Cold-Blooded Fate Page 3

  Had his angel gaze persuaded the half-breed?

  The girl behind him on the bed shifted and snarled, un-crumpling her body to creep forward. Stabbing the girl through the throat with a backward jab to end her before she could secure a place in Hell, blood spurted out across his back. He held his hand up. “Stop,” he gurgled. “Do not come any closer.”

  Michael was surrounded, and there was no way out. At least not on ground level. The hybrids crept closer, nearing their stationary leader whose face reddened with rage. Michael’s mesmerizing angelic gaze had failed him—there were too many. His head snapped up to the thatched roof.

  The hybrids’ confusion of their leader and his actions as they neared was his only saving grace as Michael struck out, slicing the stunned leader across his throat. Blood spurted, and as the spell broke, Darius’s hands came up while his followers yelled and rushed inside. Michael pointed the angel sword straight up and flung his wings out. With a powerful and synchronized whoosh, he propelled himself up, the sword renting a gash in the roof that clawed and scraped as he shot up out of the hut and into the sky.

  Screams and angry snarls followed, but they were too late as their leader fell in a heap.

  Michael was free, and Darius was dead.

  Chapter Five

  Gabriel stood by Lucifer’s side in the grand throne room, her face damp with sweat and her elegant robing sticking to her body in a way that was suffocating. Her hand at her neck clung a little too tightly. Her other hand that rested on Lucifer’s shoulder as he twisted toward her on his throng wanted so badly to tremble. But she refused to let it. She refused to think about the pungent scent in the air that had burned a permanent residence into her sinuses. She refused to watch as the guards dragged the charred bodies of weeping men out through the soaring doors.

  Instead, she tipped her head down, meeting Lucifer’s strained eyes that were set on her with fear. Fear she’d reject him. Fear that he’d lose her.

  If only he knew…

  If she wanted to leave, even if that choice was somehow better for the both of them, there was no choice to be made…not anymore. She was here, by his side. For good. For bad. For it all.

  Lucifer had offered her a throne too, one made of less gruesome materials than bones, but she had refused, unable to allow herself to be portrayed as a ruler over this desolate place.

  Gabriel smiled down at Lucifer, giving her hand atop his shoulder a gentle squeeze that chased away the trembling that threatened to overtake her calm control. She knew he didn’t want to do all that he did, she knew deep down inside that these acts hurt him. They damaged him and all that he had once been. But when he looked at her, when he saw that she was there with him and not running to escape the darkness that even now edged its way into his silvery eyes, she saw that same vulnerability from so long ago. She saw the real him, dying to be free. Dying to be believed in. “Is that the last for this da—”

  Lucifer’s eyes rolled back in his head, trapping the end of her question. She’d merely wanted to leave this horrible place of screams and pain. She’d wanted to take Lucifer back to their private chamber and hold him and kiss him and tell him everything would get better, somehow. But there was no way to ward off the black clouds that shot into his chest as Azrael appeared beyond the open-air chamber.

  The Angel of Death hovered with strained black wings that faded as the darkness of soiled souls fled his outstretched hands. His lips moved without sound, but the words were clear. “Be careful.”

  The last of the black tunneled into Lucifer and his head snapped back, his neck becoming too exposed as his spine arched inhumanly. The bark from his gaping mouth stalled all of her intentions.

  No, not now. Not more.

  But as Azrael vanished with a flash of light, Gabriel knew her wishes were worthless here. Hell did not answer them. And Heaven did not care.

  Lucifer jacked up from his towering throne, and Belial took flight from the high skull-rimmed backrest with a flutter of black wings and a shrill caw. Her flanking hellhounds, Zallina and Zax, growled, hackles rising at all who surrounded them. Gabriel rushed to catch Lucifer as his body jackknifed and collapsed. Her tender arms caught him before he hit the hard glossy ground, and she cradled him to her body, keeping him from convulsing into the spilled blood that slicked the floor. Wings acting like a protective cocoon, the look over her shoulder was sharp. “Out! Get everyone out!”

  The hellhounds responded instantly, following her order as if she were their alpha. Zachias rushed after her pets, followed closely by the other soldiers Lucifer had created on Earth. Vaulting over the gallery railing, they shoved the crowding hellions and the few deformed beings back that hissed and snarled. Forcing them out the doors, the dispersing took time with the narrow steps that led down to the city below. Not for the first time, Gabriel was glad only a handful of the hellions Lucifer had made into creatures from nightmares were permitted to watch his torture rounds from within the castle. Memories of being bitten by his original fanged men assaulted her, but she refused to linger on the past.

  Remaining on alert, Gabriel’s hands on Lucifer were soft, but her focus stayed sharper than the sword hilt she clutched from Lucifer’s belt. She knew all too well that there was no trust to be had here, and with Lucifer vulnerable, she refused to let anyone turn on him, to hurt him. Aside from the love she’d always felt for him and that still burned inside her for him, he had become even more than a lover to her. He was her future.

  She needed him.

  The moment the speared doors swung shut with a resounding clap, Lucifer’s ribs burst open, splitting his skin down the middle. The hellhounds returned to her side, whining as they crouched down on their bellies and rested their huge heads on her billowing skirt while remaining deceptively watchful as soldiers lingered inside the room. Seeing Lucifer like this distressed them, but they were as powerless as she was to help. Still draped over her lap, the close-up view of Lucifer’s internal organs, his gasping lungs, his beating heart…it was shocking and terrifying. How he healed from this almost every day was beyond Gabriel’s comprehension. Beyond their ability as angels. Yet somehow he did. Though not before a job was done.

  That coiling black inside him whipped around and around like devious black eels, twisting and twining around one lung then the other, over and over, and then coiling around his heart like a whirlpool. The whirlpool grew smaller and then squeezed tight like a fist. Lucifer’s eyes flung open, silver streaking down from them across his temples and into his golden hair.

  “I am here, Lucifer. I am here with you.” Gabriel didn’t know what else to say, her words were so disappointing. So pitifully useless. She wanted to take this burden from him, she wanted to ease his pain. But she was powerless. Belial cawed, still circling overhead. And more than that, the gentle burn she always felt to be near Lucifer’s fanged creations suddenly intensified. The old, almost invisible, bite scars seared as if hungry fangs were embedded in her flesh right here and now. Something was very wrong. Apparently, the bird felt the same, swooping down to land and hop about restlessly on the skulls topping Lucifer’s throne. With few options, Gabriel breathed through the discomfort and stroked Lucifer’s hair back, smearing the beads of sweat from his brow into his golden locks. Whatever was coming, she would protect him. “It is almost over. It—”

  The coiling black spurted up from Lucifer’s open chest, raining out in an explosion of thirteen black orbs that fell to the ground. The burn Gabriel felt increased as each orb liquefied into a puddle, a human form rising up from the glossy mosaic floor that then slowly shed down their bodies to reveal surprised faces of young men and women—with red eyes.

  The offspring of Cyrus and many of the soldiers that now surrounded the group.

  The sound of Lucifer’s chest snapping shut startled her, but it could not steal her locked stare from the one man who centered the new arrivals. The man who had taken her wings. The man—monster—who had endeavored to kill her, and then threw her over the
edge into Hell. And he was staring right at her, smirking at her new gray wings and smiling at Lucifer on the ground at her feet.

  Gabriel shoved Lucifer’s body from her lap suddenly and rose up, freeing his sword that she held before her while she blocked his body. Her hellhounds leaped up too, hackles raised as spittle dripped from their growling muzzles.

  “Finally we meet.” Darius remained calm and non-confrontational as he turned side-on to face the soldiers. The wound that had killed him was clear, the wide gash that stretched from ear to ear that was no longer fatal or bleeding now that he was dead. The hybrid leader’s smile grew as he glimpsed the watching red-eyed soldiers. “Fathers of thee,” he said, hands extending to incorporate the twelve other hybrids that studied the scrutinizing men.

  Gabriel’s widened eyes shot to the guards that were armed and ready. But they did not move an inch. Now with looks of confusion and even realization, would they apprehend these newcomers who now waited on an order from Darius? Or would they each realize these monstrous humans were their offspring?

  “Restrain them.”

  The guttural voice came from behind Gabriel, and she whirled to see Lucifer struggling to his feet. She bent to help him with her one free arm while still clinging to his sword, but Lucifer clenched his teeth and pushed her back. His chest was now shut, the skin weaving together to become one clean and defined plain again. Still, his black and silver mingling blood revealed the extent of what he had lived through, and as he staggered to keep his footing, it was clear he was far from healed. But she did not dare step in to help him again, the look in his eyes pinned her like someone who had been impaled on a tall spike.

  But the look of dangerous vengeance wasn’t directed at her.

  Swiping the weapon from Gabriel’s hand, Lucifer pointed it at Darius as the hounds circled on the opposite side to the guards. “You.” He stepped around Gabriel and came close enough to point the sword tip at the young man’s heart. “You have made the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “I thought I was already dead.”

  Lucifer ignored the verbal jab and looked to his now second in command, Zachias, and his other soldiers. Fire fumed from his eyes and sprouted from his hand on the hilt and the other clenched at his side. “This boy orchestrated the attack above. He threatened my love’s life. He took her wings. He is Cyrus’s son, and his accomplices were spawned by your own rape of women before you fell to Hell. They are your children. And they are my enemy. Prove your loyalty to me now, or you will suffer their intended fate alongside them.”

  Seeing no movement from the soldiers, Darius backed up slowly. His followers moved with him, one slow step at a time as they backed toward the doors. “Or join with us and we will dethrone this tyrant.”

  Darius continued backward as silence fell over the soaring foyer. The hellhounds crept closer, eyeing their prey. The only sound came from Lucifer as his entire body burst into living flames. The guards knew the truth, they knew what these creatures had done and who they were. Their crimes were no worse in retrospect than Lucifer’s own soldiers’ crimes, but Gabriel had to wonder, would the threat toward them pay off? Or would numbers and bloodlines win out?

  Zachias was the first to speak, addressing Darius with a glance toward Lucifer first. “This tyrant,” he emphasized the word, “created us. He made us what we are. He gave us eternal life. If not for him, you would not exist as you are. You would not have had the opportunity to offend him. To make an enemy of someone who should be your ally. You chose your position, and I have chosen mine.” He unsheathed his sword and planted the tip at the ground as he knelt, bowing his head onto his hands that topped the hilt.

  A heart-stopping moment passed, one that had Gabriel’s head swimming with the threat of failing her body. Then the other soldiers followed suit, offering their swords as they fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

  “You are all weak. You do not deserve what has been made of you.” Darius spun as Lucifer called to his men, but he was as fast as they each were.

  “Stop them! Stop them now!”

  The towering doors flung open, and Darius was through them with his followers, the hellhounds right on his heels as the guards took chase. Hellions meandering down the long, narrow path clogged the way down. The hellhounds snapped for flesh as men and women saw the threat and screamed.

  Lucifer roared at his soldiers, his entire body shaking. “I want them in the maze. Every last one!”

  And then the hybrids were out of sight, detouring away from the blocked path to fling themselves over the edge of the wide and rounded landing. Lucifer’s soldiers leaped after them while the hounds circled back to guard the open doors. Thuds resounded, bouncing off the walls of the throne room in a succession of vibrations that shock the floor.

  Gabriel reached for Lucifer’s shoulder, chasing away his fire as she neared. He whirled to face her and she gasped. The flames that coated his body fully retracted, but his eyes were still ablaze with blinding rage. Gabriel slowly laid her hands on his chest, feeling the rips in the leather covering beneath her fingertips. Her eyes begged for him to remember who she was, but even more so, who he was. “They will be caught. Everything will be fine. Lucifer…” She gave a little push. “Can you hear me?”

  Lucifer stared at her as if blind, then he blinked once, twice. The scary edge to his expression softened as he registered her standing before him, touching him, waiting for him to see her. He cupped her face, his hands that could deliver such agony so tender against her cheek. He nodded, his pinned lips parting with a deep breath that lifted and dropped his chest beneath her palms. “I know. With you by my side, everything will always be fine. I will make sure it is.”

  Chapter Six

  Gargling sounds and a thump tore Cyrus’s head up from its drooped position. Kneeling and twisted in the dark, the fact that his whole body felt as though it was on fire became a second thought. The flesh that had been stripped and consumed by the hellhounds from his muscles and bones did too. All was deathly quiet now. Too quiet. The only visible movement, as he peered up through his bloody matted black hair, came from dancing light as flames from the faraway lantern created moving shadows on the cave walls. After a few guards checked on him, the distant noises of stampeding feet and tormented prisoners had fallen silent too. At first, he thought he had imagined the sounds and then the later oomph and thump that was followed by a clatter of metal.

  But he was not the only one who had heard the commotion that echoed down the dark and seemingly endless cave passage.

  The two hellhounds that were chomping down the last of the slick and bloody muscles they’d peeled from his bones had stilled. With their heads raised and snouts forward and twitching, tongues licking the air and jaws snapping, they had heard it too. Their muzzles bunched, bloody canines dripping red drool as their stances changed, heads dropping and front paws spreading wider in preparation—

  A shadow appeared without warning, one second so far away and backlit by the only visible torch. Then it was in their dead-end space and moving at the speed of light. The hellhounds growled and barked, lunging—too late. The force that was a blur with speed to rival a shooting star snaked around the beasts. A crack was followed by a yelp and a second snapping that was all too familiar.

  Bones breaking.

  The beasts dropped to the ground in oversized heaps, deathly still.

  The shadow—a young man—stood between their bodies. In the poor firelight, his features were impossible to discern, but as he spoke, there was no question as to who had arrived in such a formidable fashion. “We meet again, Father.”

  “Darius?” The name from Cyrus’s cracked lips was a gurgle that escaped from not only his mouth but also the torn hole in one of his cheeks that peeked through tendons to his gums and stained teeth. “How?”

  “Pleasantries can wait. I came as soon as that spineless group of soldiers finished their sweep.” Darius was before him in an instant, his bloodied hands going to the metal that b
ound Cyrus’s wrists. His face was a mask of determination, his mouth tight and lips pinned as he searched for a weakness. “I need you free if we are to defeat Lucifer. How can I break these?”

  “They know you are here? Lucifer does?” As Cyrus rasped the question, he realized he already knew the answer. The long slice along his son’s neck that made his own repairing scars tingle was dimly highlighted by the faint light.

  His son was dead.

  It wasn’t a total shock that he was here. Their plan to use Gabriel against Lucifer had failed. Though despite the times Lucifer had visited to taunt Cyrus for his deception and betrayal, he had never once eluded to what had happened to his son, if he’d been killed…or if he’d escaped. “What happened to you? How long have you been here?”

  “That damned angel, we had him outnumbered. Surrounded. I was vying for Michael’s blood, for his death. Then he spelled me and…” He sliced a finger across his neck, tracing the line of the cut that was still raw yet somehow set and rejoined. He tugged harder, causing the chain anchors in the walls to creak. But they refused to break—like all the times Cyrus had spent tugging at them. “Damn this.”

  “You arrived today?” This was bad, very bad. Lucifer had to know Darius was here. He would be looking for him, hunting him down. It was only a matter of time before they found him here. Lucifer knew Darius was Cyrus’s son, the man who had tried to kill the prince’s Gabriel. “Get out. You need to get out of here and away from me.”

  “No. I need your help to escape. You know this place.” Darius shot a glance at the hellhounds at the same time Cyrus did. They had been dead corpses a moment ago, now they were breathing and twitching. He grabbed a fragment of the decoy brick Lucifer had discovered after Cyrus stole his one black feather. “Her wings. It’s our only chance. I need to find her, but the guards I killed, he’ll receive them soon.”