Angel Series Books 1-3 Boxed Set

Solstice-3

“Shall we?” I asked.

He nodded. I transported us to the first location of the night my way — no stepping, no lights, just the flash of light. Drake gasped. I let go of his hand and ran into the fray, eager to learn whose army it was that fought here.

“Do we know whose army?” I yelled back to Drake.

“Sariel’s,” someone yelled.

The fighting had already been going on for fifteen minutes when we arrived, and it was clear that the vampires had the advantage. The suicide vamps had done their job well, acting as shields to absorb the initial impact of angel fire and ice, allowing the others to slip through and cut the angels down.

Even the zombies had joined in, knowing the angels had come to kill them all, though they weren’t as effective as Drake’s vamps, and many of them died anyway.

I spotted what could only be Sariel, an angel with wings folded behind his back, standing on higher ground. Before I reached the front row of vampires I blinked and transported myself behind Sariel. He was not standing on higher ground as I’d thought — rather he was suspended a metre above the ground. I unsheathed a dagger from my hip and leapt into the air, driving the blade down into his back, between his shoulder blades. Sariel crashed down to the ground and his body began to spasm. I hoped that was a sign of the blood on the dagger poisoning his system.

An angel came to assist Sariel, and I pushed him to the ground, closing my invisible hand around his throat. I pressed a knee into his back so he could not stand, or raise a hand to attack me. I could feel his blood flowing into me and was grateful that I couldn’t taste him with my hands. There were few things I found less appealing than the taste of angels’ blood, which strongly resembled Brussels sprouts.

Both the archangel and angel took their last breath at the same time. I quickly withdrew the dagger from Sariel’s back and sheathed it. I was filled with a euphoria that eclipsed any pain or sense of regret I might otherwise have felt.

I leaned down and pulled two feathers out of Sariel’s wings. I knew now why serial killers took keepsakes from their kill. Some small token to help them relive the moment — not that remembering was a problem for me. As I’d already learned, I could recall anything that had ever happened to me with absolute clarity. These feathers were a trophy.

I blinked and transported back to where Drake was waiting and shouting out commands. I handed him a feather. He glanced at it briefly before tucking it into one of his hiking boots.

“It’s good to know the dagger worked.” I smiled, elated. “Are you ready for our next stop?”

Drake nodded and I grabbed his arm, transporting us to another of the nests from the map.

“Raguel,” Drake said. “I know the stink of that angel anywhere.”

He didn’t seem to like Raguel very much and that was fine by me.

“They may try to rally some of the other armies,” Drake warned.

“If it comes to that tell your troops to withdraw,” I said, “but I plan to take out as many as I can.”

“I’ll pass the word along to retreat if other angelic armies descend,” Drake replied, waving me onwards. “You go and do what needs to be done.”

I touched his arm briefly, trailing my fingers down his forearm. It was a small gesture, but he turned to look at me, and as he did so I blinked out of existence. I didn’t want him to see the fire in my eyes. He shook his head and laughed, before running off among the vamps.

As with Sariel, Raguel stood above the others. His wings were partially open, almost as if in a warning to any who challenged him. It reminded me of the animal documentaries I’d watched with such fascination, that showed how males of many species puffed themselves up to look bigger, stronger and more importantly, fiercer.

I walked slowly and deliberately to where Raguel stood. This archangel, at least, stood on a rock. I walked around him twice, assessing him as he barked commands at his army. Closing both my fists I gave a short, sharp jab behind the knees, causing him to buckle and fall. Regaining his feet he looked around wildly, trying to determine what had happened. The dagger was already in my hand, and as I drove it through his heart I blinked my body back, so I would be the last thing he saw before he died. He clutched at my arms, though his hands did not produce what he had expected — a weapon with which to destroy me — and I laughed.

Before his body collapsed to the ground I removed the dagger and wiped it on his shirt before sheathing it. Two archangels to go, but only one dagger left. I knew who this dagger would be reserved for. I would kill Phanuel another way, if I could, and then it would be done. Those that had sought to kill me, and had succeeded in killing Danny, would be gone.

I ran to where Drake stood, talking to a couple of vampires, grabbed his wrist and we left, only to arrive at another nest in the blink of an eye.

“I would appreciate it if I could finish passing on my instructions before you whisk me away,” he said, but didn’t sound particularly angry. Indeed, I thought he enjoyed my take charge attitude.

I couldn’t see an archangel anywhere.

“This is the one I want, isn’t it?” I asked. “It’s his army, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Drake replied, and he scanned the angels looking for the same thing as me — Raphael.

“Where is Raphael?” I yelled. “This is his army, isn’t it?”

Someone yelled something I didn’t catch, so intent was I on scouring faces and looking for wings.

“He’s fled, the coward,” Drake yelled back. “Only Phanuel remains, to the east.”

Raphael’s angels continued to fight, and fall, at the hands of the vampires — not cast out of heaven as demons — truly dead and never to return.

I strode over to Drake and made the map appear on the ground in front of us. I still had one dagger left. I’d have to find another way to kill Raphael, if and when I found him, the skulking invertebrate.

“Show me where Phanuel is.”

Drake pointed to one of five areas we had yet to visit. I didn’t stop to think how he knew. I grabbed his arm and we were gone.

Phanuel stood among the last of his angels, angel fire flaring from one hand, angel ice from the other. I blinked out and ran between the angels — stealthy and silent, invisible to the night — ducking and dodging the rain of fire as they fought, fearing for their lives. I ignored all save Phanuel, for it was he whom I sought to kill this night. The vamps could have the others.

I walked around him, looking him up and down, before stopping behind him, shaking uncontrollably with rage. How dare he condemn Danny and me! I blinked back and unsheathed the last of the daggers, holding it high in my hand, giving in to the part of me that craved revenge. The blade whistled through the air, to land deeply in his back.

“Death has found you and it hungers for your soul,” I whispered.

Phanuel’s fire and ice flickered, then stopped. He dropped to his knees, a look of surprise on his face. I left the dagger in his back to do its work and unsheathed Death. I kissed the flat of the blade then used it to cut off his wings, less glorious than Danny’s. I crushed them between my hands until all the bones were broken and tossed them to the ground, in front of Phanuel. His face changed to a mask of horror. To be without his wings, even in death, was unthinkable. In one final act I pulled back his head and let Death remove it from his shoulders. The song was melancholy, as if the blade sensed this was not the archangel I wanted most, but that it would have to do.

I held Phanuel’s head high and screamed, “Raphael, this was meant for you! I will hunt you down and kill you!”

I dropped the head to the ground and kicked it as far away as I could, then retrieved the dagger from Phanuel’s back. I let go of my angelic scent and reverted to the vampire in me. It was time to set the vampire free.

Drake ran to my side, elated at our victory.

“Remarkable,” he said. “If I had not seen it with my own eyes I would not have believed it.”

His fingers brushed my cheek, yet this time I didn’t shy away from his touch. I was frustrated and angered that Raphael had gotten away, and still had a lot of pent-up energy and rage to burn. I clasped Drake’s hand and transported us back to his chambers, bolting the door as I did so.