The Taking
Authors: Katrina Cope
AFTERLIFE
Book Two
The Taking
Praise for
Fledgling (Book 1)
‘
It has a quite literally colourful cast of characters, and a plot that moves at a nice pace, while keeping you guessing about what will happen next.
’ - Toriz
‘
I never put it down unless I had to and when it was over I wanted to read on. Those are the markings of a great read for me.
’ - JEP
‘
The plot is tightly developed and the characters are so well defined which made for a refreshing read. I look forward to reading the sequels!.
’ - Kaz
‘The story is great and the twists and turns kept me very much entertained. I am hoping this is part of a series and if so, I can not wait for the next chapter.’ -
Julie
‘I adored the fight scenes that happened through out the book. It made me feel like I was there watching them.’ -
Shaun
‘What I am asking is when will the next one come out because I really just want it now. -
Owen
Books by Katrina Cope
~~~~~
Pre-Teen Books
The Sanctum Series:
JAYDEN & THE MYSTERIOUS MOUNTAIN
SCARLET’S ESCAPE
TAYLOR’S PLIGHT
ERIC & THE BLACK AXES
ADRIANNA’S SURGE
~~~~~
Young Adult Urban Fantasy
Afterlife Series:
FLEDGLING
THE TAKING
Book 3 to be released in 2016
Copyright
The Taking
Text Copyright © 2015 by Katrina Cope
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references or suggestions herein to actual historical events, real people or actual locations are fictitious. All names, characterisations, locations, incidents, and fabrications are solely the product of the author’s imagination, and any, and all, resemblance to actual persons alive or dead or locations or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by
DamonZa.com
Published by Katrina Cope
Desi ~ A beautiful angel taken too soon
- Prologue -
Separus
Curse that blasted fledgling, that meddlesome new angel. How has her power heightened so rapidly?
With raspy lungs, I inhale, and pain screams through my body. Confirming the cause, I gaze down at my dark, taut, abdomen and observe the large angelic burn that will not heal. I shake my head. She was not supposed to discover her powers this soon. My eyes travel to my underarm, evaluating a similar burn in the shape of a handprint. This was not how it was meant to end.
I remember the first brush of her power as she inserted a conscience into the possessed space. It forced out one of my minions
’
implants from a flourishing human slave.
The power.
I rub my hands together as I dream of the potential it holds if used on our side.
Oh, yes, the power. I want that power. I need that power on my team. I must turn this new angel to join our fight even if it takes me years to change her while she is under my protection. She must be captured now, before she grasps the extent of her natural gifts and learns how to master them.
She thinks her heart is for the good side. I chuckle. Anyone can be changed, especially one with the tendencies of a rebel. I curse that pesky Archangel Michael. Trust him to arrive before I can capture my prize. With my injuries and the arrival of the leader of the archangels, I had to leave. I had seen that archangel in action, and he was not one to fight alone, especially when he has help.
As I land deep in the depths of the underworld, I pull my black membrane wings close to my side. The darkness embraces me, welcoming me home. Scanning the delicious horror before me, I search for my overlord with success. His back is toward me and dark shadows accentuate his protruding bones under his dark skin. His bat-like wings are tucked visibly behind his back as he peers into the depths of a burning flame surrounded with the darkness of the dry rocks and infertile ground. I need his healing powers for the injuries she gave me. He does not heal everyone, only the worthy. Hoping I am still in this category, I approach him.
“My lord,” I say as I kneel on the ground before him. The dry soil and stones immediately stick to my skin.
He revolves, and the evil gaze of his large black eyes befalls me. I revel in the maliciousness he casts my way. I can feel the strength it sends me. His unsightly face is beautiful in my eyes and accentuated by his large horns curving from his tightly curled black hair. Each wrinkle or crease, each ugly mark a testament to his years of service as a demon leader of many. After I drink in his beauty, I bow.
“Rise,” he says. His voice is raspy and harsh, yet it falls on my ears as a beautiful song would to a human.
I stand and gaze into the darkness of evil, baring my stomach and arm. “If it pleases my lord, I could use your healing evil.”
He glances down his colossal nose and pulls on his overgrown ear. “Who did this to you?” The blackness in his eyes deepens with each centimetre that his vision evaluates.
“It was the girl, the multi-coloured one with the golden yellow wings. Her powers are growing too quickly. I don’t think she’s even aware what she is capable of and what is happening with her gifts.”
The black eyes travel back to my face. “And you did not capture her?”
“No, my lord. The leader of the archangels arrived to protect her. I could feel his presence approaching. It was strong with the lack of demonic presence surrounding me.”
My master reaches out a gnarly hand, not unlike my own. The dark skin is pulled tight against the bone, and each ghastly knuckle is swollen similar to that of an arthritic human hand. He places it over the wound on my abdomen, not touching the diseased skin and sends his powerful black pulse through my flesh. My breath is taken away, shortly replaced with a soothing sensation as the burn begins to heal. He then does the same to the wound on my arm.
“Thank you, my lord,” I say as I tilt my head in respect.
He reaches down and scratches a knobbly knee sticking below material wrapped around his body like a sari, and says, “We must draw her out from her protection.”
“An excellent idea, my lord. Do you know how?”
He tugs his dangling earlobe and squints. “After watching her journey, there is a bait I am sure will lure her.”
My eyebrows rise. “Do tell.”
“Her downfall in executing the angelic law is caused by her emotions. I have seen her grow rather attached to the young male fledgling that is a training partner. If something were to happen to him, I am certain that would draw her out.”
I know of the blue angel, and the relationship that is forbidden and I ponder the notion. “An excellent idea, however, he is very strong in his own right and he and the yellow one have drawn special attention from the leader of the archangels. Do you know of an easier target?”
He stands tall and extends his wings. The black jagged edges are picturesque in my eyes. While gazing at his face, I catch sight of dissatisfaction and begin to wonder if I have overstepped my mark.
He looks down at me; I flinch waiting for a repercussion when he says, “There is an easier target.”
I stand straight, eager for the news. “Yes, my lord. What would that be?”
"She has an earthly love. One she has not forgotten despite this forbidden relationship with the fledgling. We can threaten him.” He pauses and his face darkens. “Better still, we can claim him as one of our own.” An evil smirk spreads across his face. “Yes, I like that one. I think she will forsake all to save him.”
“You are all wise, my lord. You live up to your reputation as the destroyer — great demon, Abaddon.” I bow. I am going to have fun with this one.
- Chapter One -
The sapphire stone eyes examine me, surveying my posture and my soul. Intimidation overlaps the traces of kindness I have glimpsed in the past. His muscles bulge in his arms as he raises them ready. He circles around me, assessing his prey, determining when to attack. Slowly I spin, my sight fixed on him. Loud thumps rock my chest as my petrified heart screams to get out. I know my chances are slim, but I will not be defeated without a fight. Beads of sweat gather on my forehead and my palms are moist.
Come on Aurora. You can do it,
I reassure myself. To subdue my pulsating limbs, I complete a mental check of my posture. Feet shoulder width apart? — Check. Knees bent? — Check. Weight on the balls of feet? – Check. Hands up in front? — Check. Focus? — Check. Relaxed posture, ready for a quick reaction? — Breathe in deeply . . . Check.
He slams a boot into my stomach. Groaning from pain, I silently cuss my sloppiness as I fall backward. Before he can remove his foot, my hands grab it. Having it secured with two hands I pull, and he loses balance. Large gusts of breeze cool my forehead as he strokes his majestic white wings, raising us off the ground. I join in the flight, flickers of golden yellow wing tips show in front of me as I feel myself rise.