Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) (35 page)

All turned against her. No one was on her side.

She was alone.

“No.” Nevar swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I have to go to her. She will be scared and confused… hurting… and now they want to kill her or sentence her to a fate worse than death by imprisoning her with nightmares of her defeat? I will not let that happen.”

He stood and his knees gave out. Asmodeus was before him in a flash, catching him before he hit the floor and carefully settling him back on the bed.

“You are in no condition to fight.” Liora took hold of his arm, as if that would stop him from attempting to rise again.

She could unleash every spell at her disposal on him and he wouldn’t stop. He would reach Lysia.

“I do not care. I have to see her,” Nevar snapped and tried to stand again but Asmodeus planted his hands on his shoulders and pinned his backside to the bed. He didn’t have the strength to force Asmodeus to release him, and his master wasn’t even using much of his strength to hold him in place. Despair went through him, twisting his insides and pulling a snarl from his lips. “She has to see me… she needs to see me.”

“She will see you,” Asmodeus whispered and loosened his grip on Nevar’s shoulders. “But she does not remember any of us. There is no recognition in her eyes when she looks upon us. We tried… but you might succeed where we have failed.”

Nevar clutched his chest and knew that the mark that had been on it was gone now. How could he make her remember him? When he had come around, he hadn’t remembered who he was or who anyone else was. He had merely existed.

His memories had been all that he had together with tangled emotions that had felt distant and unreal, not really a part of him.

Was that how Lysia felt?

He didn’t believe how he had felt in those moments when he had been unconscious and witnessing a replay of his death had anything to do with that process of death and rebirth. The loss of his sense of self and his knowledge of those he set eyes on had stemmed from his connection with Lysia. She suffered as he had and that was why she hadn’t recognised Asmodeus and the others. She had forgotten them.

Or those memories had been locked away, trapped beyond her reach.

Nevar had to hope that was the case and that somehow he could get through to her and restore those memories for her.

“I will find a way,” he whispered and then spoke with more conviction. “I swear I will get through to her and I will stop this.”

Asmodeus nodded. “You will need your strength if you are going to survive until you can get through to her.”

He offered his arm and Nevar realised that there was something different about his master. Asmodeus wore vambraces with a rampant dragon on them and had chest armour. The pointed slats of armour around his hips were shiny and new too.

He stared up at his master, knowing there was only one explanation for what he was witnessing.

Asmodeus lifted his broad shoulders in an easy shrug that didn’t hide the discomfort in his eyes. “My master decided I needed full armour again.”

It must have grated on Asmodeus’s pride to have the Devil restore it so easily when he had been without it for so long, left vulnerable at the whim of his master. It had taken the end of days for the Devil to care enough to restore the pieces Asmodeus had lost throughout the centuries in his service.

Asmodeus tugged at the round edge of the collar and pulled a face. “It is more stifling and restrictive than I remember.”

Nevar nodded in agreement. He had often found armour to be a hindrance, especially when not in combat. He never had fathomed how some angels managed to sleep in it.

“Now you look even more like Apollyon.” Nevar couldn’t resist slipping that one out quietly.

Asmodeus bared his fangs on a growl. “I can kill you again, if you wish? We know you will come back now.”

Liora stood and stepped between them.

“Now, now, boys. Lysia needs us.” She looked over her shoulder at Asmodeus. “If you kill him now, it will be days until he wakes up again. Kill him for it later.”

Nevar stared at her, unable to believe she had just said such a thing to Asmodeus, practically condoning his killing him. She knew that her lover would take it as permission.

“I am joking,” Liora said and when his expression didn’t change from one of horror, she looked back at Asmodeus, and adopted a firm tone. “It was a joke. Don’t you even think about killing him. I’m banning all attempts to kill Nevar. You were doing so well at getting along.”

Asmodeus huffed and placed his hands on Liora’s shoulders, over her crimson gypsy-style top. “Very well. I will not kill him. May I maim him a little?”

“No,” she snapped and her dark angel’s face fell and he sighed again. “Now be nice and give him something to eat.”

The gold-edged black vambrace around Asmodeus’s right forearm disappeared.

Saliva pooled in Nevar’s mouth and he stared at the smooth flesh on the inside of Asmodeus’s forearm, his hunger rising as his fangs slowly descended. He needed blood and wouldn’t deny himself this time. It would give him the strength to fight for Lysia and protect her.

“I took blood from Lysia.” Those words slipped like a confession from his lips as his gaze darted to Liora, his green eyes meeting her hazel ones. She smiled softly and he lowered his focus to his bare knees, realising he wore only his black loincloth. His gaze sought his armour. It rested on a chair near the foot of the bed in the black-walled room. “Only a little… I was afraid to take more. I just wanted to feel the connection between me and Lysia strengthen again.”

“What?” Liora said and he felt sure she was angry with him for breaking his programme and taking blood, but she had looked as if she had been fine with it. She crouched in front of him, her hazel eyes locking with his. “What do you mean, again?”

“She took blood from me on the island. I fed her and it made the link between us stronger. We could feel each other more clearly. I wanted to feel that again, and we exchanged blood here in Hell, before the four angels came and took me away.”

He had barely finished explaining before she was on her feet and rushing from the room.

Asmodeus watched her go, a frown marrying the black slashes of his eyebrows, and then looked back at him, desire for an explanation written in every line of his face.

Nevar shrugged. “I thought perhaps you would know why she ran away. Is she angry with me?”

His master shook his head and offered his arm. “Feed properly now and regain your strength, because you will need it in the fight to come.”

Nevar was swift to take it, capturing Asmodeus’s arm in both of his hands and drawing it to him, and sinking his fangs into it before his master could change his mind. Asmodeus’s blood flooded his mouth and flowed down his throat, instantly absorbing into his body. Power rushed through him, strength he had forgotten he possessed, as he fed deeply, drawing everything that Asmodeus was offering him into himself.

Hope filled his heart, given life by the renewed strength flowing in his veins.

Hope that he now had the power to save Lysia.

The ground shook again, more violently this time, and Asmodeus withdrew his arm and ran his tongue over the puncture wounds. Nevar licked his lips, relishing every last molecule of blood, unwilling to waste any of them.

“I will help you reach Lysia and so will the others.” Asmodeus lowered his arm and the vambrace appeared around it again.

“The others?” Nevar flexed his fingers and wriggled his bare toes, testing his body. It felt stronger now, more capable of holding his weight, but he didn’t want to risk rising from the bed until he felt sure he wouldn’t fall.

Asmodeus nodded and Nevar listened hard. The voices were distant but they were there. Everyone was in the castle with him and they were all willing to fight on his side for the sake of Lysia. They were going to fight on her side.

He wasn’t sure what to say.

Until he realised with dread that if everyone was present, it meant his ward was too.

“Erin,” he said and Asmodeus shook his head and pressed one hand to Nevar’s left shoulder.

“She could not come. The Devil is forbidding her from entering this realm and has sent his men to guard her. Veiron is there with her.”

He was glad of that. Her incredible power would have been of use and an advantage to them in the battle to protect Lysia, but her presence would have been a disadvantage too. Everyone would have been worrying about her and Dante.

For once, he didn’t think the Devil was a complete bastard. He was doing the right thing by keeping Erin away from the battle and Nevar hoped it meant she would be safe and so would Dante. He wouldn’t let the future she had seen happen. He would fight to protect her too.

“Come.” Asmodeus took hold of him and helped him onto his feet.

Nevar walked with his assistance to the door of the bedroom and then made his own way from there, following Asmodeus down the black corridor towards the voices.

They had gathered in the main living space of what remained of the fortress and all stopped to look at him as he entered.

“The dead walks,” Taylor drawled with a wicked smile from where she sat on the huge table, a book balancing on her lap. In her black combat gear of knee-high boots, jeans and t-shirt, and with her sleek black hair, she almost blended into the furniture and walls beyond her. Her blue eyes sparkled at him. “Welcome back to the land of the living… what’s left of it anyway.”

He stumbled into the long expansive black room and over to the obsidian rectangular table that occupied most of the space in the centre of it. He pressed his left hand against it for support and rested there, slowly beginning to feel stronger as his body used the blood Asmodeus had given him to nourish and restore itself.

He scanned the occupants of the room.

Liora stood at the far end, frantically scanning one of the massive bookshelves that lined the walls at the end and to the right of Nevar. Serenity was working with her, looking extremely out of place in her cream summer dress and with her long bright golden hair.

Marcus and Amelia stood off to his left, besides the large fireplace, both of them dressed in their silver armour but neither with their wings out. Amelia bore several wounds on her bare arms and legs, and one on her face that darted across her forehead and into her silver hair. Marcus was busy wrapping a bandage around a deeper wound on her upper left arm, his silver-blue gaze locked on his work and his dark hair falling down to brush his forehead.

“Where is Einar and Apollyon?” Nevar looked around the room again and added, “Where are the mutts?”

Asmodeus growled from behind him and then crossed the room to his black throne and sprawled himself out on it. “They are guarding the fortress outside and will come if they spot anything.”

“The mutts, or Einar and Apollyon?” Nevar frowned.

“Romulus and Remus.”

Serenity brought a book to the table and set it down. “Mon ange is… ah… scouting?”

Asmodeus nodded when she looked uncertain. “Einar and Apollyon agreed to head out to see the progress of Lysia. Heaven and Hell are trying to drive her to within the reach of the Devil.”

Nevar growled at that. “No. We cannot let that happen. He will kill her… or send her back to sleep. I have to reach her before then.”

He paused and ran back over what Asmodeus had said.

“Is Apollyon carrying Einar?” Because the angel was in a state of limbo due to his romantic relationship with a half-demon, stripped of his wings but still listed as an angel of Heaven.

Taylor’s smile brightened. “Don’t be silly.”

“But he does not have wings.” Nevar wasn’t sure why she thought him silly for pointing out the obvious. Apollyon would be at a disadvantage carrying Einar around with him.

“Who says I do not have wings?” Einar entered with Apollyon in tow and Nevar could only stare at the tawny-haired male. Dusky brown wings arched behind him, their long feathers brushing the floor and the greaves of his dull-gold-edged earthy armour as he walked. Einar shot him a smile. “I was one of Heaven’s best hunter angels… and it would appear that my case was heard and judged just in time for them to reinstate me and use me in this fight. Strange that, don’t you think?”

Nevar shook his head. “Very odd.”

Apollyon slapped Einar on the back and the hunter angel lurched forwards.

“You would almost think they were going to leave you wingless for the rest of your years, but had a sudden change of heart when they realised they were running low on experienced angels,” Apollyon said with a smile that fell away as he sobered and turned to face the rest of them. “It is not good. Lysia is close to the area of the Devil’s prison. She is heading for the plateau, driven there by the First Battalion of Hell’s angels. She will be within reach of the Devil soon.”

“We have to reach her before that happens.” Nevar called his armour. The violet-edged black breastplate formed over his chest first and the back plate appeared and linked with it over his shoulders and under his arms. His vambraces followed, the rampant dragons on them matching the ones on Asmodeus’s armour. The slats around his hips materialised and his boots came after them, shortly before the plates of his greaves completed his armour.

He released his black wings and flapped them to bring his feathers into line, and held out his hand, preparing to call a portal that would take him to the plateau.

“Wait.” Liora rushed over to him with a thick tome opened and pressed to her chest. She slammed it down onto the black table, drawing everyone’s focus to her. “You need to get through to Lysia somehow.”

“I know that,” Nevar snapped. What did she think he had intended to do?

Asmodeus snarled at him and stood, a towering wall of muscle and dark menace. “Tone, Nevar. Mind how you speak to my witch.”

“I am sorry,” Nevar said to Liora and she just smiled. “Please continue.”

She spun the book to face him and pointed at a lot of gibberish on it. “If you can calm her and bring her back, I think I can restore the seals on your chests. Blood. It’s all about blood. You said it yourself. When you shared blood, the connection grew stronger. It might still exist. Only the marks are gone… but the link is still there, buried in your blood… like your contract with Asmodeus.”