Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 5) Read online

  “Veiron?” she whispered and he faltered, pain tearing through his heart as though that word was a blade and she had cut him with it.

  How did she know his name?

  He hesitated and it cost him. The original angel came out of nowhere, her silver mutated wings beating fiercely, and crashed into him, sending him down with her on top of him. She smashed her fist into his face and her eyes flashed silver, as bright as her long hair.

  Veiron growled and rolled with her, intent on pinning her beneath him and taking her life too. It would be a bonus and he was sure his master would be proud of him. She was gone before he could manoeuvre her, leaving him facing the sand, his back wide open to attack. She landed a hard kick on his spine between his blue chest armour and the strips that protected his hips, sending him face first into the sand.

  “Amelia, no!” The target. Why was she stopping the original angel from fighting him? Did she fear for her comrade’s life?

  A wise woman. Veiron snarled, pressed his palms into the damp sand and shoved himself upwards, knocking the abomination off him.

  He found his feet and turned on her. His blade clashed with that of the traitor, Marcus. Heaven had warned Veiron about him. Other voices called across the beach and Veiron silently thanked Nevar when he landed behind him, providing much-needed back up.

  Veiron drew a deep breath and attacked Marcus and the original angel as Nevar fought the other traitors.

  The sight of Marcus in armour so similar to his own disgusted Veiron. The man had no right to wear the armour of an angel. He was as much an abomination as his master. She didn’t wear armour at all. A small pale cream dress was her only defence against his blade.

  Veiron drove Marcus back and called his second blade, evening the odds. They clashed hard again, the dark-haired traitor wielding his twin blades with expertise that Veiron found difficult to match. He didn’t have the battle experience of this former angel but he wouldn’t be defeated here.

  Veiron ducked to avoid one of Marcus’s blades and launched his fist up, catching the man hard under his jaw. Marcus flew backwards and beat his wings to right himself in the air. Before he could attack again, Veiron turned on the one his target had called Amelia. She blocked his path to his target, a blade in her hand and a steely look in her eyes.

  Why wasn’t the target defending herself?

  She stood a short distance away, eyes wide, frozen in time.

  He could still feel her hurting. Perhaps it was a power of hers. She intended to weaken his resolve to capture her and present her to his superiors. That would never happen.

  Veiron battled Amelia, driving her backwards, towards his target. When she realised what he was doing, she fought harder but she wasn’t skilled enough with a blade to beat him. He slashed at her, keeping her occupied with defending herself. He could feel Nevar behind him, the angel now battling Marcus. The demon female lay injured on the beach, the fallen angel tending to her.

  The tide was turning in his favour.

  Veiron swung hard with both swords. Amelia leapt to dodge the blades, giving him the opening he had been waiting for. He sent one of his swords away, grabbed her leg, and spun with her. She screamed as he sent her flying and then hit the sand hard, sending a plume into the air as she tumbled across it.

  Veiron turned to face his target.

  The female lowered her hand to her side, swallowed, and looked him straight in the eye. A brave if foolish woman. Did she think she could intimidate him?

  “You may come peacefully, Devil spawn, or you may fight me. Either way, I am taking you in.” He called his second sword back to him and swept both blades through the air.

  She tipped her chin up.

  “I’ll fight you. I don’t want to… but I will. I will not let you hurt my friends.”

  He snorted. “Such evil cannot know true friendship. You have poisoned their minds with your darkness, just as your master poisons this realm.”

  Tears lined her lashes again. “How can you say such cruel things?”

  “Cruel? Strange words from the lips of the antichrist. Do you intend to poison my mind too?” He cut through the air with his swords again and advanced on her. “I will not let you.”

  “And I will not fight you.” She closed her eyes and held her head high. “So if you wish to claim my life to satisfy your new master, then do so.”

  New master? He halted again. Tears slipped from her lashes onto her cheeks and rolled down them and the sense of pain inside him increased. She swallowed and sniffed, but made no move to attack him or defend herself.

  Why wasn’t she fighting him?

  He didn’t have time to come up with an answer and what happened only left him with more questions. Pain blazed across his back and he roared, arching forwards away from the blade. He turned on the original angel and threw himself back into his fight with her, but not before he had caught the horror in his target’s eyes and felt her fear.

  She feared when he had been injured but not when he threatened to kill her?

  His head ached as he battled Amelia, driving her towards Nevar and Marcus this time where they fought further along the beach. Marcus was winning. Veiron growled under his breath and struck at Amelia with each blade in quick succession, forcing her to defend. He needed to get to Nevar and assist him.

  “Nevar, you know me!” Marcus said and Nevar looked as confused as Veiron felt. Nevar slashed at Marcus with his sword and shook his head.

  “I do not know you, traitor.”

  “Marcus, he’s the angel who tried to take me twice… my guardian,” the target called from behind Veiron and Nevar froze.

  Marcus saw his chance and took it. He twisted Nevar into his arms, pinned his wings with one arm and held his blade against his throat with the other. Nevar stilled. Veiron cursed.

  “Is she right? You were her guardian and you tried to capture her for Heaven?” Marcus growled the words and Nevar’s pale green eyes widened as the blade nicked his throat, spilling a thin line of blood.

  “She lies. I have never seen her before today, nor you.”

  “She isn’t lying, Marcus,” the original angel said and swiped at Veiron. He was so caught up in what was happening with Nevar and Marcus that her blade cut across his arm. He hissed through gritted teeth and cursed at her this time. Her second attacked failed. He easily blocked it and pushed against her, sending her tripping backwards and gaining himself some space.

  He raised one sword above his head and brought it down hard, intent on cutting her down before she could recover her footing. Bright blue light shone from her palms and the whole world exploded. Pain splintered his bones and his head spun, reeling as his ears rang and he tried to comprehend what had just happened. When his head cleared, he found himself sailing through the air and landing hard on the ground, close to his target. Victory.

  Veiron went to launch onto his feet but his body didn’t respond to the command. It blazed white-hot, every muscle burning with pain so intense he barely clung to consciousness. What had happened?

  Had the abomination struck him with her power?

  She appeared above him, her hands still glowing, and held her palms out towards him.

  Veiron breathed shallowly, struggling against his pain, and stared up at her. He had failed. His superiors had been wrong. He was not capable of capturing the Devil’s spawn.

  Amelia glared at him. “Better luck next time.”

  “No,” the target screamed and was suddenly between him and Amelia, her arms outstretched.

  Protecting him?

  “Don’t hurt him!” she said and shook her head.

  Amelia backed off a step. “He might look and sound like him, but he isn’t him… remember that.”

  “I know… but I would sooner die than see Veiron suffer again.” Those softly spoken words cut him deeper than any blade could and served to increase his confusion.

  She had called him by his name twice now, refused to fight him or let him come to harm, and feared wh
en he had been injured.

  “Do I know you?” he said without thinking and pushed himself onto his elbows on the sand. His head spun but not as fiercely as it had before and the pain in his limbs had lessened to a dull throbbing. He lumbered onto his feet, spread his wings, and flapped them to align his feathers. They ached as much as the rest of him.

  The target looked over her shoulder at him, pain in her amber eyes. The wind ruffled her short black hair, blowing it across her face, and she turned away and lowered her head. A look of sorrow crossed Amelia’s face and Marcus sighed.

  “The Veiron you knew died, Erin. He will not remember you,” Marcus said and she nodded, and her pain increased again.

  The Veiron she knew?

  Was this all an elaborate lie to fool him and Nevar into lowering their guard? Why would he have known the Devil’s daughter and these traitors?

  “You are all traitors and liars,” Veiron said and Erin turned to face him. Her eyes met his and the ache in his head worsened as he stared into them. He didn’t know her. He couldn’t remember his past life but he was sure that he would never have had a reason for knowing the spawn of Satan. “You lied about Nevar being your guardian. Why would such evil need the protection of an angel?”

  She flinched and looked away, casting her gaze downwards.

  “Erin?” Amelia whispered behind her and Erin closed her eyes. “Is he speaking the truth about you?”

  Erin frowned and then nodded.

  Amelia’s silvery eyes widened and the same look of shock echoed on the faces of her comrades too. They hadn’t known that Erin was the child of the Devil.

  Was she playing them all for fools?

  “Evil,” he spat the word at her and she covered her face with her hands and hid there for long minutes.

  “What do you know of myself and Amelia?” Marcus said and Veiron looked across at him. He still held Nevar against him, his sword poised to slit the guardian angel’s throat.

  “We have been told about you.” Nevar spoke before he could. “You are traitors and must be captured or executed.”

  “You must know our accomplices then?”

  Nevar nodded. “Apollyon, bringer of death, Lukas of the mediators and Einar of the hunters.”

  “And what of the Devil’s men?”

  “I do not know.” Nevar grimaced when the blade nicked his throat again, sending a new rivulet of blood trailing down to his collarbone. “There was mention of a fallen angel.”

  Veiron took a step forwards to help him and stopped when Erin lifted her head and looked at him again. He stared into her eyes.

  “That angel sacrificed himself recently when trying to save me… and his name was Veiron,” she said and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t detect a lie in what she spoke.

  “No.” He shook his head, unwilling to believe it. She was tricking him. She was trying to confuse and weaken him. None of what she said, what any of them said, made any sense.

  “Veiron,” she whispered and he refused to look at her. He would not be deceived. “You died barely a week ago trying to protect me… and now you want to kill me? You must remember me. Don’t you remember being with us in Hell and fighting the angels? You must remember!”

  “You lie. I died months ago.” He took a step back from her and glared into her eyes, anger rising like a tide within him. He flexed his fingers around the grips of his swords.

  “You died no more than a week ago… and your last words in that lifetime were that you loved me.”

  Veiron stumbled backwards, head aching and spinning as he tried to process that. It had to be a lie. He had died months ago. He turned his glare on the sand and focused, trying to remember something about his past life so he could prove her wrong. The ache in his head sharpened into a deep stabbing pain and darkness loomed, threatening to render him unconscious.

  “I do not know you,” he said and looked up at her.

  She had turned away from him and was now facing Marcus and Nevar.

  “Don’t you remember the rooftop in London around two weeks ago? You were there, talking to me, and Veiron fought you,” she said to Nevar.

  “Stop your trickery! It won’t work on us.” Veiron snarled and stalked towards her, intent on capturing her and putting an end to this farce.

  She held her hand up and dark crimson flames curled from her fingers, chasing over her skin. He stopped. It seemed she had command of her power after all and had merely chosen not to use it during the fight.

  “It is a lie, as I told you,” Nevar said. “I have never met Veiron, the traitor, nor you before this day.”

  “You have met me twice. Once in London and once on an island where you fought Apollyon.”

  Nevar had fought Apollyon? Apollyon was the most powerful angel in existence. Had he killed Nevar and that was why the guardian angel didn’t know the target? Veiron growled at himself this time. She was sucking him in with her web of lies and he was beginning to fall for it. They had to escape before she poisoned them as she had poisoned these traitors. He would not fall.

  “It is no use,” Marcus said in a solemn tone. “They have had their memories altered. Heaven has brainwashed them.”

  Veiron looked between her and Marcus and Nevar, unsure what to do. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know any of them. His head ached and throbbed, pain burning behind his eyes.

  “Although I do not understand why they have changed Veiron’s memories… unless he remembered something.” Marcus’s words swam in Veiron’s pounding head, breaking past the pain and confusing him further.

  “You are wrong,” Veiron said.

  “I can prove that Erin is not lying to you,” Marcus countered and Veiron looked at her. She was so close to him, easily within reach. He could grab her and fly away with her, take her to Heaven and complete his mission. He could block out the lies and deliver her to his superiors as ordered.

  So why did he feel a deep desire to remain here looking at her, listening to their poison, allowing them to lure him into their trap?

  Her eyes shifted and met his, and a spark of warmth lit them. They entranced him and he found he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to look away.

  “There is a pool in Hell that records the happenings on Earth and in Hell. It will show you and Nevar.” Marcus struggled to hold Nevar as he wrestled him.

  “Lies,” Nevar growled and beat his wings, trying to escape Marcus’s grip. The sword cut deeper into his throat and he stilled again. Veiron shared his anger but something about Nevar said anger wasn’t the only emotion his fellow angel was feeling. He was shocked too.

  Veiron could understand that emotion. He wasn’t sure what was truth and what was lie, and with each minute that passed, the line between them blurred and became less distinguished.

  They had to get away.

  “It is a trap.” Veiron readied his swords. “You intend to lure us into Hell for your master.”

  His gaze flicked to Nevar’s and met it. The angel gave a slight nod. He was ready too.

  Veiron’s eyes shifted back to the target. It would be too risky to grab her and try to free Nevar. He would rescue his comrade and then return to capture her. Her gaze rose to lock with his and the wind caught her black hair, blowing it to one side, away from her throat.

  His eyes fell to the marks on the left side of it, visible above the neckline of her black t-shirt, and a jolt rocked him, heating his chest.

  He shook his head to clear it, beat his wings, and shot past her and the original angel. Before Marcus could react, he had slammed into both him and Nevar. Nevar reacted immediately, shoving Marcus’s blade away from his throat and tearing free of his grasp. They both beat their wings and took off, speeding high into the air.

  Neither Marcus nor Amelia came after them.

  Veiron looked down at them, watching them growing smaller and smaller as he sped towards Heaven.

  He had failed.

  Veiron hated that and the fact that he couldn’t shake how the target had l
ooked at him and how he had felt because of her gaze on him. The things she had said raced around his mind, leaving him with more questions than ever.

  “We must report,” Nevar said and wiped the blood from his throat.

  Veiron nodded.

  They would file a report on what had happened but Veiron knew it wouldn’t give them what they both wanted.

  It wouldn’t give them answers.

  Veiron needed those most of all.

  And he wouldn’t rest until he had them.

  CHAPTER 29

  The moment Veiron was lost from view, Erin collapsed to her knees on the beach, a wave of fatigue crashing over her. She hadn’t grabbed much sleep in the past week, had been constantly thinking about Veiron and hoping that when he returned, everything would turn out all right.

  Nightmares had haunted what little rest she had snatched, terrifying visions of Hell and of claws, fangs and horns that had left her shaken and cold to her marrow, filled with a sense of dread that she couldn’t dispel. The visions were worse now than ever and they were scrambled too, flipping from one horrific scene to another and then back again, so fragmented that they didn’t make any sense and offered her no clue as to what the future held unless it only held oblivion, fire and destruction.

  Now that she had seen Veiron again and had seen with her own eyes that Amelia and the others had been right about him, she had nothing left to hold onto and the final shreds of her strength left her. She no longer cared if oblivion was all that lay ahead of her.

  Veiron was gone.

  Erin’s ability to breathe had been lost to her when she had felt the quake and turned to see the cause. Veiron had stood before her, a changed man. His wings had no longer been a beautiful shade of crimson and his armour had lost its darkness. His long scarlet hair had been chopped short, but wild on top, and no trace of red had touched his eyes.

  Even his personality had been startlingly different to the man she had fallen in love with.

  She pressed her palms into the damp sand on either side of her thighs and scrunched it into her fingers, needing an anchor in the maelstrom of her emotions.