Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Read online

  Salvation

  A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel

  Christina Phillips

  Phoenix 18 Publishing

  Copyright © 2020. Christina Phillips

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-0-6487568-8-0

  Edited by Amanda Ashby

  Cover Design by Covers by Christian

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Salvation

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Christina Phillips

  Also by Christina Phillips

  Salvation

  I just spent the best night of my life with the hottest guy I’ve ever met. Too bad he turns out to be my deadliest enemy – the Archangel Nathanael…

  Half-demon Isabella has dreamed of bringing archangels to justice and there’s no way she’ll forgive Nate for his deception. Except it turns out he has no idea who she is… can this be the chance for retribution she’s been searching for?

  There’s only one rule I live by. Never trust a demon.

  Close to finding a rogue demon he’s been hunting for millennia, Nate’s not looking for any distractions. Until Isabella turns his world inside out and leaves him wanting so much more. But when he uncovers her true heritage, her betrayal rocks him, and he faces the choice of leaving her to her fate or breaking the only rule in his book.

  With dark secrets threatening their survival, there’s no way an archangel and a half-demon can work together. But with the clock ticking, and danger stalking every move they make, the only way to save themselves might just be to save each other.

  Prologue

  Nate

  Eleven Thousand Years Ago. Somewhere on Earth.

  The Archangel Nathanael landed on a rocky outcrop that gave him an uninterrupted view of the brawl in progress on the sandy beach below. Folding his wings, he recognized the three tormentors. They were minor gods who often hung out on Earth, and their current victim didn’t stand a chance against them.

  He wasn’t in the mood for a fight, but three immortals against one frail human was barbaric, whatever way he looked at it. Like a lion playing with a mouse.

  Sweat beaded along the human’s forehead and a knife hilt protruded from his neck. Even from this distance, there was no mistake. The swirling runes on the knife handle were too distinctive. It belonged to one of the jeering gods, Maahes.

  Intrigued, he scanned the creature. His aura throbbed with leashed power, the ancient, unadulterated power that only archangels possessed. So he wasn’t human. And he certainly wasn’t an archangel.

  Demon.

  Nate had never come across one before, although there were plenty of legends of their duplicity and how they’d corrupted and tortured humankind in the past. But since there were no witnesses of such events still alive, as far as he was concerned it was all speculation. Their goddess had banished her first children from Earth long ago, before the creation of the archangels.

  That dark history, that their goddess forbade them to discuss, had always fascinated him. Why couldn’t they speak of it? Most of his fellow archangels accepted Her word and had no interest in digging into a prohibited past that didn’t affect them.

  They were bitter enemies. As prescribed by their goddess’ decree. But it was academic. Despite how their goddess maintained that if they ever met, they’d annihilate each other, no battle had been fought between their races. She was determined to keep them separated, and it seemed he was the only one who questioned Her word in this matter.

  He grinned. Potential answers to all the questions he’d had over the years had just neatly dropped into his path.

  It was an enthralling proposition.

  A second later he materialized into the fray and narrowly dodged a curse-drenched, eight-pointed star that the goddess Inanna had hurled. She gave a theatrical groan.

  “Fly away, Nate. You’re in the way.”

  He offered her an insincere grin. “Not a chance.”

  Maahes spun another of his knives on the tip of his finger. “Pick a side, butterfly.”

  As insults went, it was one of the milder ones. “Already have.”

  The demon lunged for the third god, Veles, gripping his sword in both hands. “Filthy godspawn cowards.”

  Nate shot him a glance, as Veles parried the thrusts with his own sword. Inanna laughed, as if the whole thing was a great joke, and Maahes drew back his arm, knife in hand, focused on Nate.

  Nate teleported, wrapped his arm around Maahes’ throat and there was a satisfying crack before the god teleported to Inanna’s side. Unfortunately it took more than that to kill an immortal, but still.

  “You’re so going to regret this, Nathanael.” It sounded more like a prophecy than a threat, as Inanna held out her hand, and her star spun back to its mistress.

  “Big time,” growled Maahes, his fingers clutching his throat, as the crushed bones mended, before he and Inanna vanished.

  Veles leaped back, landing knee deep in the ocean. He grinned at Nate, as though he found the interruption of his and his fellow immortals’ fun and games amusing.

  “Good hunting, archangel.” There was the faintest trace of a sneer in that last word, before he, too, vanished.

  Nate rounded on the stranger, who was leaning heavily on his sword and sucking harsh breaths into his lungs.

  “What the hell are you doing on Earth?”

  The demon gingerly touched the hilt that was still sticking out of his neck. “I pissed off the Demonic High Council. Thought I’d lay low on the last planet they’d ever think of looking for me.”

  “And then you pissed off Maahes.”

  “Bastard caught me unaware.” His voice rasped and he staggered, as though the sword was no longer enough to keep him upright. “I can’t even teleport.”

  Nate eyed the knife. If the demon couldn’t teleport, there was no way he’d be able to heal himself, either. Once the knife was pulled out, he’d bleed to death.

  He’d healed plenty of humans with minor injuries in the past. Even a few with life-threatening wounds. But he’d never offered to help an immortal before. Because immortals didn’t need that kind of help.

  “Huh.” He folded his a
rms and glowered at the demon, because this was unchartered territory and he had the feeling if his goddess discovered his deed, she’d be severely displeased.

  Then again, he did a lot of things he suspected his goddess would disapprove of. Not that he was the only one. The trick was not being found out.

  Assisting a demon bordered on blasphemy. It was dangerously tempting.

  “Battling your conscience?” The demon gave a feral grin. His teeth were bloodstained. “Do me a favor. Cut out my heart. This knife hurts like fuck.”

  The melodramatic comment decided him. Anyone who could joke at a time like this couldn’t be as despicable as their reputation contended. “Here’s your choice. I’ll leave now, or you pull the knife and I’ll fix the wound.”

  The demon grimaced. “And be forever in your debt.”

  “Yeah. Thought that went without saying.”

  The demon gave a pained laugh. “Deal.”

  It took longer than he’d anticipated to mend blood vessels, knit torn muscle and repair damaged nerves. By the time he had finished, the sun had set, and he and the demon were both dripping with sweat.

  He exhaled a long breath and stepped back. He’d done all he could. “Might take you a while to regain your abilities.”

  The demon cautiously flexed his neck before giving him an assessing look. “My name is Dagan.” He gave a mocking half-bow. “At your service.”

  “Nate. Not at yours.”

  Dagan’s dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “It appears not all archangels are the scum of the universe that I’ve been led to believe.”

  “No. That distinction is reserved for demon kind.”

  Dagan gave a grunt of laughter. “In a different universe, we may have been friends.”

  An archangel and a demon? It was unheard of.

  Forbidden.

  And a perfect way for Nate to finally get answers to all the questions that had burned through his mind for centuries.

  “Are you still planning to stay on Earth?”

  Dagan shrugged. “Until I’m healed, I don’t have a choice. But yes. I still plan to stay for a while.”

  In that case, Nate needed to figure out a way to keep him alive. He rubbed his brow and then grinned. “How do you feel about masquerading as a demigod?”

  “The thought of possessing hybrid blood from a god and mortal coupling offends my sensibilities.”

  Nate snorted with laughter. Who knew demons possessed a sense of humor?

  “I can’t guarantee you’d be welcome in Ama-gi as a demon. But you’ll pass unnoticed if you present as a demigod.”

  “Ama-gi still thrives on this primitive planet?”

  He’d forgotten Dagan would know of the magnificent civilization from the time when demons populated the Earth over a thousand years ago.

  “It does.”

  Dagan was silent for a few moments. “You would protect my identity, against the edicts of our mutual goddess?”

  “Hey.” Nate unfurled his wings. “What are friends for?”

  Chapter 1

  Nate

  London, Present Day

  Nate stood outside The Queen’s Arms pub in the West End and narrowed his eyes at the unassuming club across the street. The name had first caught his interest. Inanna. But it was the elusive scent of demon that clung to the building that really snared him.

  He was certain there was a connection that linked the club and the architect behind an immortal forged sword that had horrifically wounded one of his closest friends, the Archangel Azrael. Nate had grabbed that damn weapon and was in the process of having it analyzed but he was already sure of its origin.

  Demon made. And that meant an immortal on Earth was either forging weapons capable of destroying an archangel—or someone off-world was supplying them. And somewhere in this club was his answer.

  It wasn’t that unusual to pick up a trace of demonic infestation on Earth. Their bloodline polluted the human race far more than any of his fellow archangels were aware. Most of the time, he ignored the signs. Because generally the hybrids had no idea what cursed DNA they possessed, and as such they posed little danger to the indigenous population.

  The ones he hunted across the universe were powerful demon spawn, who not only knew exactly who and what they were but were consumed with wiping out mortals and claiming their planet for their own.

  Not on his watch. He’d been burned once by their duplicity.

  Never trust a demon.

  He wouldn’t rest until he’d crushed every seed of their rebellion, across all the galaxies except Fornax, the one they called their own.

  The fact that so far his best clue was lurking inside a club called after the goddess who had warned him about Dagan, was just the kind of karmic bullshit the universe like to pull on him.

  He threw up a low-level glamour to obscure his archangelic radiance from mortals and strolled across the road. He’d visited the club half a dozen times during the last couple of weeks but apart from the traces of powerful demonic power steeped into the very brickwork, he hadn’t found the answers he’d been looking for. He’d also checked out Inanna in Birmingham and Brighton but although the demon element was unmistakable in both clubs, it was nowhere near as potent as their London counterpart.

  Once inside the club, he prowled the perimeter of the dance floor. It was like every other night he’d been here, and he raked his gaze around the oblivious humans. They were so sure of their position at the top of the food chain, they had no idea who else they shared this planet with. Which was just as well. No one needed the kind of panic that would sweep the Earth if humans ever lifted that particular veil.

  Let them keep their illusion of superiority. It made no difference to him.

  He was convinced the demon responsible for the attack on Az had been here, which meant Nate wasn’t going anywhere.

  He was certain of which demon bastard was behind it, too.

  Dagan.

  Bella

  Isabella Beauchamp navigated her way through Heathrow Airport, collected her luggage, and went through “Northing to Declare” at Customs. Teleportation was so much easier, but sometimes when it came to her work, she just needed a paper trail, to avoid unwanted scrutiny.

  Also, Octavia was picking her up. And while the other woman was a good friend, there were still some things she couldn’t confide in her.

  It was safer, that way. For Octavia.

  She spied her friend in the crowd and made her way over.

  “Welcome back,” Octavia said, even though Bella had only been in Milan for a couple of weeks. “And congrats on clinching the deal on your new nightclub.”

  “The place has so much potential.” Most people in the underground network she was a part of believed her string of nightclubs were a cover for her real work, but it was so much more than that. She loved renovating old buildings, bringing them back to their former glory, and then opening them to the public. It had always been her passion, even before she’d been recruited by the Watchers. But there was no denying that her businesses also served as a perfect cover if any full blood humans decided to investigate her.

  Although it was the middle of March, it was bitterly cold outside, and she shivered as gusts of wind chilled her face. The demon blood in her veins gave her a lot of advantages but countering the effects of extreme weather conditions wasn’t one of them.

  As Octavia drove through the London traffic, Bella shared her plans for the new club. Even though they’d kept in touch by phone and texting, it wasn’t the same.

  She had many immortal friends from the Watchers underground network. But Octavia was different. She possessed no demon blood and while she knew of Bella’s mixed heritage, she didn’t have a clue that the immortal Watchers existed. More importantly, she was the only one of her friends who loved historic architecture as much as she did.

  “What about you?” Bella glanced at Octavia. “Any closer to the light at the end of the tunnel?”

  She didn’t know e
xactly what Octavia had been working on for so many years, since the details were confidential. But since she was a dhampir, Bella had long ago concluded it had to involve something potentially catastrophic connected to her race.

  “You could say that.” Octavia frowned. “Although now a whole new level of complication has emerged. I’m leaving for Romania tomorrow.”

  “Good luck.” Curiosity curled through her, but she’d never ask Octavia why she needed to go to Romania. If she couldn’t share, there was a good reason for it.

  Caution went both ways, after all.

  “Hey.” Octavia shot her an assessing glance. “Out of interest. Have you ever come across an archangel?”

  Well, that was unexpected. She ignored the animosity that slithered through her gut at the hated word, and everything it represented. “Definitely not.”

  Her mentor had taught her how to read auras years ago, as a basic security measure. He’d also taught her how to obscure her own immortal heritage, an essential tool of defense against unknown enemies, and now it was second nature.

  Silence echoed in the car before Octavia inhaled a long breath. “You know of the Great Massacre of nine hundred years ago?”