Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) (13 page)

“Where did you send them?” Apollyon asked Erin, watching the fight between Lysander and Amelia with interest, and an intriguing amount of satisfaction. Evidently, Lysander had no friends on the island who would fight on his side, not even the angel who had trained him for six centuries. Everyone seemed to want to see him punished.

Nevar hadn’t been present for whatever had taken place between Amelia, Marcus and Lysander, but if the angel had been responsible for taking her to Heaven to kill her, then he hoped the bastard got what he deserved.

“I sent them to Hell,” Erin said with a wide smile. “More precisely, to my father’s fortress.”

Nevar couldn’t stop himself from smiling too as he pictured how shocked the four angels would be to suddenly find themselves not only in Hell and most likely surrounded by the Hell’s angels working on repairing the Devil’s courtyard, but in the presence of the prince of darkness himself.

“He will not be pleased,” Asmodeus said and Apollyon nodded in agreement and looked across at his twin.

“I take it you recognised one of them too?”

Asmodeus dipped his chin. “The white-haired one who threatened Erin. Mihail… my master despises him.”

“Why?” Nevar found it impossible to hold that question in. He had never heard of the angel before, or of the Devil hating anyone other than Apollyon.

“While I have to fight the Devil at intervals to decide whether he may leave Hell or will spend the next few centuries trapped in that realm, I cannot kill him. No one can… except Mihail.” Apollyon flinched as Lysander landed a hard blow on Marcus’s jaw, driving the dark-haired former angel into the sand, and Amelia cursed him and unleashed another blue orb that sent Lysander blasting into the water. Apollyon glanced at Nevar. “Mihail and the Devil came to blows many thousands of years ago and Mihail came close to killing him. The Devil will not be pleased to see the angel again, even if this incarnation of him does not remember what he did or that he has such a power.”

“He will be pissed at you,” Asmodeus said to Erin.

She shrugged and took Dante from Veiron. The little boy squirmed in her arms and latched onto her neck, sucking furiously.

“Someone is hungry again. I swear he has your appetite,” she muttered in Veiron’s direction and then looked at Asmodeus and Apollyon. “I don’t care if he kills my father… score one for us. Dante is safe then and I can rule Hell in his place. I am a perfect female replica of him after all.”

It was true, and she could ascend the throne and rule Hell, but Nevar didn’t think she would be up to the task. As tough as Erin was, she wasn’t strong enough to do the things that were necessary as the ruler of Hell. She was born of a human mother and had a softness about her because of it. She had heart and cared deeply about people.

As the ruler of Hell, she would have to deal out punishment to mortals who were sent there. It would destroy her.

Asmodeus grimaced, pressed a hand to his bare chest, and shot Erin a black look. “Pissed may have been putting it too lightly.”

“Asmodeus?” Liora took his hand, her hazel eyes flooded with concern.

“I will be back. Remain with your cousin while I help my master deal with a certain angel infestation.” He dropped a kiss on her brow, stepped back and looked over at Nevar.

Nevar sighed and released Lysia, knowing what the angel was going to say. It was time to go.

Asmodeus shook his head. “Remain here with Liora and the others. Keep her safe… both of them.”

Nevar nodded, unable to do anything else while he processed what Asmodeus had asked of him. He had asked Nevar to protect his precious Liora, the woman he had tried to kill in order to strike a blow at Asmodeus. He trusted him with her, and with handling Lysia.

Asmodeus cast a portal and Apollyon caught his arm.

“I will go with you. I cannot fight the Devil, but I can fight angels,” Apollyon said and the other male nodded, a glimmer of gratitude in his golden eyes.

They stepped through the black vortex together and when it disappeared, Serenity moved to stand beside Liora.

They formed a line as they watched the spectacle unfolding on the island, spectators in an arena. It appeared Lysander was losing against his two opponents, the patches of skin between the pieces of his black leather armour stained with blood. He beat his golden wings and readied his blade as he shot towards Marcus, dark intent and hunger in his icy eyes and the shadow settling across his features again.

Marcus grinned and casually twirled his spear.

Amelia created another blue orb where she hovered a few metres above the white sand, her silver wings keeping a leisurely pace that held her stationary.

Lysander roared as he swung his blade.

A bright beam of light shot down from the sky, encasing him, and disappeared just as quickly, taking him with it.

Veiron grunted. “I hate it when Heaven cheats like that.”

It seemed the show was over but no winner had been declared.

Amelia unleashed a barrage of curses at the sky and began flying upwards. Marcus caught up with her, grabbing her from behind and taking several blows from her wings as he fought to contain her.

“Let me go. I want to kill the bastard.” She battered Marcus with her wings but he didn’t release her.

“You will have your chance… but if you leave, Erin will be vulnerable.”

That seemed to get through to her and she instantly stilled in his arms, allowing him to gently drift downwards with her. The silver-haired female was breathing hard as they landed softly on the white sand. Lysander hadn’t been the only one to take a few blows. Amelia had a long gash across her thigh and one on her arm, and Marcus had cuts on his stomach and arms.

Veiron and Einar trudged across the sand to them and began using their two very different powers to heal their wounds, one born of Hell and the other of Heaven. Erin trailed after them, Dante still mouthing her neck as she rubbed his back, and Taylor followed.

Nevar looked at his new wards. Three of them. Serenity and Liora were deep in conversation and he allowed them to wander a short distance away, drifting towards the group, but kept an eye on them.

Lysia remained with him.

He shifted his gaze to her and let everything slowly sink in. He had thought her a demon, one born of Hell, and he supposed she was in a way, but she was so much more than he had thought her to be. This was the beast he had awoken and was now his responsibility. She was made of Asmodeus and Liora, built in their image, and that made the feelings he felt towards her even stranger to him. He was attracted to her, a woman who was in a way their progeny. A woman who was bound to him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had done as he looked at her, wondering whether she had risen because of his foolish thoughts about her awakening and giving him something to do rather than his boring guard duty. He had contemplated terrible things and had left her chamber, and she had awoken.

Another monumental fuck up to add to his tally?

If he hadn’t thought those things, would she have remained dormant?

He now suspected she had appeared in the mortal world on waking because he had been there. She had found herself in the middle of a strange city because of him, had been frightened by the loud and confusing surroundings because of him, and now she was destined to herald the end of days.

Because of him.

And angels were after her, wanting to take her to Heaven and no doubt kill her, all because of him.

He couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering at the hands of angels again or knowing it was his fault. This was all his fault. He had been weak, taking the easy route in all things, when he should have been strong. He should have fought harder—against Asmodeus, against the darkness, against himself. He couldn’t undo what he had done, and couldn’t change the past, but he could change the future.

He could change her future and the future of the world. He could save her from the destiny others had set out for her and protect her from those who meant her harm.

He didn’t see a weapon of destruction standing before him.

He saw a woman, one who had shown fear and vulnerability, who had been hurt and afraid, and one who had fought to protect those she cared about. She wasn’t a heartless creature bent on destroying the world and everything in it. She was a woman who marvelled at the world, delighted in the smallest things, and wanted to save others.

She was good, not evil.

He would stop at nothing to do what was right and good and fight to become a stronger male, one who could right his wrongs and set everything straight again.

One worthy of the beautiful woman standing before him.

L
ysia didn’t like the way the others were looking at her now and how they held themselves at a distance. Only Nevar remained close by her side. It had comforted her at first, but over the hours that had passed since the angels had left the island, she had begun to feel differently about his presence because of his behaviour.

She had studied his reactions to the group as they had posed questions and she had answered them, and he had relayed her answers to them in a language that they could understand.

He acted strangely whenever he had to speak with the King of Demons, who had returned from Hell with his twin, Apollyon, declaring that Heaven had reclaimed the four angels just as everything had been going in the Devil’s favour.

He also acted strangely whenever he had to speak with the Devil’s daughter, Erin.

The female in question eyed her closely, a sharp edge to her golden irises.

“She doesn’t look like the beast we saw on the chamber door,” the black-haired woman said and gently rocked her son in her arms.

The father, an enormous red-haired brute that she had discovered was formerly a Hell’s angel, cooed over her shoulder at the boy and tickled his cheek, his other arm slung possessively around the waist of his female.

It was a protective stance, and Nevar didn’t seem to like it. His gaze kept falling to the large hand softly gripping Erin’s hip through her black dress and it darkened whenever it did.

Why?

Lysia had a terrible feeling she knew the answer to that question but pretended that she was wrong. He didn’t harbour feelings for the Devil’s daughter.

“Why don’t you look like the beast?” Erin said to her and she looked away, casting her eyes down at the white sand and scrunching it between her toes.

“We have been through this. She does not remember,” Nevar replied for her, a biting edge to his tone that he seemed to immediately regret. His voice softened. “I mean… ask her something else. It is pointless going in circles like this.”

Lysia risked lifting her eyes to his face and wished that she hadn’t when she caught him looking at Erin with a gentleness in his eyes that she had never seen before.

A dark urge rose within her and she squashed it, knowing that she couldn’t obey it. She had tried to leave the group twice already, and both times Nevar had guided her back to them, his grip on her wrist unrelenting. Each time the others had looked at her with more suspicion.

Did they think she meant them harm?

She supposed she couldn’t blame them if they did. Lysander had revealed the truth she had wanted to remain hidden, locked inside her and unknown to even her. Before he had announced it, she had known she had done terrible things and had been aware of the battle that had taken place and that angels had brought her down, but she hadn’t known exactly what she was.

It had come as a shock to her too.

She had believed herself a monster, but hadn’t been prepared for just what sort of monster she truly was—a creature that would destroy the world.

She didn’t want to destroy this world.

She looked around the island at the verdant green of the palm trees, the crisp white of the sand, and the clear jewel blue of the sea. It gently lapped at the shore, a steady rhythm that she found soothing. She breathed in time with it, soaking up everything about this place.

Including the people here.

They looked upon her with wary and cold eyes at times, but they were still trying to help her. They had been kind and had protected her from the angels. She didn’t want to end their lives. She wanted to see them live long and happy ones, together as they were now.

“You said angels struck you down. Were you a beast at the time or woman?” Apollyon said, his blue eyes holding hers, cold and clinical.

The male was a born leader and seemed to be the one everyone turned to whenever they were unsure of how to proceed. Even Erin would turn to him for guidance.

Erin who Nevar was staring at again, a flicker of warmth in his jade eyes and tenderness in his heart. She could feel it in hers and it sickened her, filling her mind with dark things that tormented her.

Lysia closed her eyes and shut him out, focusing on what Apollyon had asked her and seeking the answer.

She bit down on her tongue when a sharp hot lance pierced her skull above her right eye, trying to hide her pain from everyone as they stared at her in silence. The weight of their expectation pressed down on her and she pushed past the agony searing her mind and searched deeper, trying to grasp hold of the elusive answer for them. If she could answer them, perhaps they would trust her and she could stay in this peaceful place with them. She would be safe from the angels here—both those of Heaven and those of Hell. If she could give these people reason to believe in her, then they would protect her as they had before.

She reached deeper, stretching for it now, seeing shadowy images of the battle in her head.

Another hot bolt of lightning struck her mind and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out and clutching her forehead.

“Enough.” It was Asmodeus’s deep voice that broke the silence and shattered her attempt to find an answer.

She opened her eyes and blinked them to clear the tears away, and found him standing before her, his golden eyes dark but not with malice or intent. He placed his hand on her right shoulder.

“Do not push yourself,” he said and she wished it had been Nevar who had intervened and had spoken those words to her.