Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series) (11 page)

Eyes flashing open, he ground his teeth, ready to go toe to toe with Mads’s crystal genie, but Amos shoved the picture he’d been working on into Nix’s hand.

“Zen ain’t gonna hurt Momma. This is who’s behind the coming attack.”

He held the drawing at an angle so he and Zen both could peer at the artwork. Wings! The child had sketched a male on his knees, with his head bent forward as if in prayer. His features were in shadow, so Nix was unable to make out the face, but the wings sprouting from the creature’s back sucked all of his attention. Not like the ones birds used for flight, but instead they were long and wispy. Just like an angel’s. But not corkscrew-shaped like Micah’s.

“What else has wings other than an angel?”

“Dragons.” Kur approached.

“These aren’t dragon wings.” Nix handed him the picture. “Georgie, you think you can try to get a read from the photo?”

She was already out of her chair and walking toward Kur. “Of course.”

“The first attack will be in the dead of night.” Amos’s eyes glowed fiery orange. He hadn’t seen that look since the child had been five and acting demonic. “Death will claim its victim, but a short-lived victory will be granted. The dark-man will arrive later. He’ll be stronger, his attack bolder.” The boy blinked and his blue gaze returned. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Without Daddy, we will die.”

Nix’s heart beat as if cement hardened within the valves. He tugged the child against him and they clung to one another. “I’ll die before I allow anything to happen to either of you.”

“I know.” Amos nodded, sniffling as he pulled out of Nix’s hold. “Wanna play Zombie Wars when you finish talking with Momma?”

Only a kid could shift topics so easily. No, that wasn’t exactly accurate. Amos was old enough to understand the danger. Only a kid raised with constant peril would think of playing a video game on the heels of witnessing the death of his mother in a psychic vision.

“You bet.” He cleared his throat. “I promise to show no mercy and beat you.” He allowed a grin to surface, but the stretch and pull of his lips felt forced.

“Game on!” The child took off at a dead run, the Hellhounds traipsing after him.

“Nix.” Georgie’s hand shook as she passed the picture back to him.

As if James could sense Georgie needed comfort, he pulled her against his chest.

He loved the way his uncle supported his aunt through touch. He realized he offered the same physical reinforcement to Mads. He couldn’t recall his own parents doing the same, so the chances were he’d learned it from James. “What’d you see, Aunt Georgie?”

“Blood. Screams.” She rubbed the flesh over her heart with a fisted hand and squeezed James’s arm with her other hand. “And pain. God…the pain. My chest hurts from the vision.”

“I’ll gladly suffer throughout eternity to guarantee her survival.” Believing Mads was dead had been worse than any agony he could endure.

“Madison is the one in pain. Not you.”

Terror sliced through him so hard his breathing grew irregular. “Zen, I won’t lose her again. I have to make sure Mads accepts the help Micah is offering. Any arguments over that, let me know now.”

“None.”

Zenny agreeing to accept Micah’s help…must be an apocalyptic omen.

Nix strode from the room, fighting the overwhelming urge to run to Mads and drag her into his arms. He needed to touch her, see her, and hold her before he’d believe she was okay. Less than twenty-four hours since she’d accepted his love and taken him to her bed, and he already fretted they wouldn’t last a week. The Azura stones had seen the threat sooner than the psychics in their lives. He’d make damn sure Mads accepted her prophetic rocks when her husband arrived.

***

Zen teleported from the home to a peak high on the roof of the world. The decayed air helped him think. He went to his knees and bowed his head.

Madison. Amos. The two of them had become precious to him. Meant the world to him, had become….

My family
.

He blew out a choppy breath. His gut soured. The acid burned toward his throat as he contemplated Madison’s transformation and the knowledge Amos had been visiting with Micah. Neither was tolerable behavior. It was everything they’d worked against.

Destiny has a way of claiming one regardless of his intentions
. It was why he’d been instructed to murder so many before their fate claimed them.

He inhaled, turning his hands palm sides up and resting them on his thighs.

How do I proceed
?

In the past, these transgressions would christen them for immediate death. Swift mortal justice should’ve been granted to her as a baby. One unintentional peek into her infant eyes and he’d failed the universe. Caved to weakness by blue eyes that he’d known would taunt men in her maturity.

Killing a child had never been easy—he knew from experience. A weak excuse, but he’d committed the offense more than once. Even though all the youths’ demises haunted him. Each remained with him, like black holes pock-marking his soul. He remembered their faces, their names, never what they would become and how they would devastate the world.

At the very least he should’ve been capable of casting Madison from the world when she evicted him from his crystal prison. Again, he’d made the fatal mistake of staring into her eyes and yielding to the bravery he’d heard in her mind.

If neither of those moments prompted her death, then when she broke the lid to Pandora’s Box to save Phoenix from his hellish pact—that should’ve brought his killing hand without hesitation.

They’ve become my family
.
Like my sister, my nephew
. And he felt as protective toward them as he had his real kin so long ago. How far would their wrongdoings perpetrate before he took decisive action?

Lifting his head, he sat back on his heels. The horizon enthralled him on normal days, but the view from his sky-scraping perch was lost to him today. Wind ruffled his hair and whistled off the mountainous range. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

An unknown entity endangered his family. He couldn’t dismiss the likelihood he might be a part of the threat.

How do I proceed
?

The wings in the photo could be metaphorical. He was godly driven. Yet, the Word of his maker hadn’t requested he betray his family’s trust and assassinate them. If the holy-speak whispered duplicity, they would be at cross-purposes. His creator spoke directly to him often, and Madison hadn’t been a heavenly agenda before Hell. Nothing suggested she was now. The holy silence in his head confirmed that assumption. Except for the simple reality that he’d never required a direct command to take out a known threat before.

For hundreds of thousands of years, he’d existed for one purpose. Keep the balance. Simple. He’d been good at his job. Feeling nothing as he took life after life—except for the innocent lives that had yet to turn evil.

I’m torn between keeping the balance and protecting my new family
.

Madison very likely wasn’t human any longer. The scales inside him reiterated she tipped the balance and
needed
to die.

She’d laid claim to Pandora’s powers, defeating the sentient creature while in Hell, had accepted her demonic inheritance, and almost taken down a fallen archangel as easily as if she sipped lemonade. Death would’ve been the result for any other being that made those actions. Could he bring himself to kill her if he decided it the best action?

He did not know.

Wind whipped around him. A quick shove swiped his hair out of his eyes.

He simply did not know.

Rocks to his right rolled, dislodged from their perch by the angel materializing. Royal blue flesh, with green striations marbled the heavenly host’s skin. The angel’s wings were as black as his hair. Unlike in popular culture, in the paranormal universe, black did not define one as evil.

Kneeling before the ethereal creation was too submissive for him, so he pushed to his feet. He met the angel’s direct stare.

“You beseeched the Word?”

“You’re not it.”

A lazy shrug from his visitor as the angel took in their locale. Tangible tension coiled from the divine being like the wings rising over his shoulders. He suspected a purpose to this unexpected rendezvous. He also doubted the angel understood the extent of his attributes. He was dealing with a baby angel, one born after the Fall.

“I was sent. That is all you need know.”

Cocky, if he expected Zen to believe that. Wanting to know his caller’s aim, he checked his disbelief beneath a blank expression and droll voice. “What is your name and rank?”

“Drahel. My rank is
Esdras
.”

Esdras
…
Fire of God
. Flames would rain upon the earth like it had in Sodom and Gomorrah if the Word sought their brand of justice.

“I discern my hierarchy means naught to you. Allow me to elucidate—”

“I
am
the breath of God.” A subtle way of saying he knew everything the Omniscient discerned. The angel’s eyes widened so slightly; if he hadn’t been paying attention he’d have missed the visitor’s surprise. Interesting…that he knew nothing of Zen’s origins. “I know what you are.” Death in a neat, unassuming package. “What do you want?”

A swallow and a brief glance across the view. Nervous? “You are discussed often in Heaven. Many believe you have forgotten your role in Father’s mission.”

“Few understand my purpose.” No point in admitting he had begun to question his role.

“You are to kill the girl and the child.”

A cold chill skittered down Zen’s spine. “Madison and Amos?”

Drahel executed a stiff one-nod. “Yes.”

“This is your father’s mandate?”

A brief stutter. “Yes.”

Lie
. Proof this angel knew nothing of his gifts.

“A unit will be sent in to micromanage those in the home. You are to kill the woman and child while a contingency of angels looks on. We’ll report to Father your obedience.”

This baby angel proved how little he knew. As his constant companion, God saw and heard everything he did, making it redundant to report his compliance to his creator. Did angels work against their father’s ultimate design? That brought them perilously close to a Fall.

“Say the names of those you wish dead.”
I want to hear him say the names of my adopted family
.

Drahel’s shoulders stiffened. “Why?”

“Because it pleases me. Say their names. Madison and Amos.”

“M-Madison. Amos. They are to be killed.”

“Why?”

The angel’s eyes blazed with heavenly fire. White, unlike the orange-red glow of the Kings of Hell.

“Because Father has deemed it.”

Zen was on the angel before he could flinch from his attack. A hand around the back of Drahel’s head and a finger tapped against the base of the angel’s throat and he melded with the heavenly host’s mind.

Numb surrender deadened him when he located the information he wanted. He released the angel with a shove. A nightmare of epic proportions.

Drahel tossed him an unholy leer. They would take pleasure in killing his family. Zen hated him and his cohorts for that.

He thwarted his desire to turn the
Esdras
inside out for wanting them dead.

Wind tugged at Drahel’s shaggy black hair. “Refuse and we will usher in the apocalypse.”

Come for my family and I’ll deliver the apocalypse upon
you
and your brethren
.

Something of his thoughts must’ve shown because Drahel said with a shrug, “Your execution, Zennyo Ryuo.”

They knew nothing of him if they believed that.

Chapter Eleven

Nix located Mads in the kitchen. Bacon sizzled in the frying pan and grits were on a slow boil in a pot on the stove. She beat up a batch of pancake mix; at least he thought that was what she whipped up.

“How can you cook at a time like this?”

She did the most normal things at the weirdest moments.

“I’m not convinced this isn’t one of Micah’s attempts to bring me to heel.” She set the bowl aside and pulled out a griddle. “And cooking soothes me.”

God knew he loved her food. His belly grumbled in agreement. The way she moved as she prepared food was a thing of beauty, too. Watching her calmed him.

He handed over the photo Amos had drawn.

She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel before grasping the picture. After a long moment, she canted her face toward him. “What’s this?”

“Amos had a vision. Went glowy-eyed. That”—he nodded at the paper in her hand—“is the man he says is behind the attack.”

“An angel.” No question. A stated fact. Mads blew out a breath and leaned against the counter behind her. “He and Georgie hadn’t seen before….” She rubbed her eyes. “I thought Micah was lying. Like always.”

“He rarely lies.” The angel was painfully honest more often than not. It hurt to admit that even to himself. He wanted her to think of her husband as an unfeeling monster, but Nix’s relationship with Mads would always be built on honesty.

Her head snapped back. “Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not.”
Not really, just stating the truth
. He strode around the island and stepped in front of her. “We need him to help protect you both.”

“No.”

“Mads, baby….” He settled his weight against her. She adjusted her stance, widening her stride and granting him space between her thighs. His fingers slid through her hair, as her hands settled on his hips, her thumbs anchoring in his belt-loops. “I want you two as safe as I can get you. If accepting that bastard’s aid is going to keep you breathing, then we need it.”

Her fingers dug into his sides. “I don’t want him here.”

He knew that to be untrue. She’d nearly slept with the man in Hell. Both times.

“Amos says neither of you will survive without him. Georgie….” Her vision he feared the most, because the dread that he’d lose Mads for good this time around fed off his trepidation like a leech would his blood.
Can’t think about that now
. He cleared his throat. “What she saw is bad. Real bad. I thought I lost you once, and I went deep into corruption.” His palm shifted to her nape and he brushed her neck with his thumb. “I fear what I’ll do if I lose you again. Baby, please let him help us.”