Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series (27 page)

Einar and
Lukas moved away, leading the three other women off to a distance.
He wanted them to take Amelia too and leave him to fight Apollyon
but it wouldn’t do any good. The battle and pain in Apollyon’s blue
eyes told Marcus that much. Apollyon was no longer in control of
himself and if Amelia went to the others, there was a chance he
would attack and hurt them all. Apollyon was already suffering
enough. If he harmed Serenity, it would kill him. Marcus couldn’t
let that happen, but he couldn’t let him kill Amelia
either.

“You must
allow this to happen for the sake of mankind.”

Marcus
shook his head. “I cannot do that. I won’t let you hurt
her.”

“Then you
must take this wrath upon yourself.” Apollyon raised both of his
curved blades and the black clouds gathered above them swirled and
opened to reveal a circle of blue sky.

The wind
increased, sending the golden corn swaying and ruffling both
Marcus’s and Apollyon’s feathers as they stood facing each other
barely twenty metres apart.

“Try to
take it easy on me,” Marcus said with a half-smile and pushed
Amelia behind him. He braced one foot out in front of him, drew his
other blade, and brought his arms together in front of his face so
his vambraces were shielding his head. The two ends of the grips on
his weapons moulded together on contact and then extended until he
held an engraved blue and silver staff tipped with two curved
silver blades. “Fight it if you can.”

“I will
try. Forgive me.” Apollyon threw his head back and yelled at the
sky.

“No!”
Amelia shrieked.

White
light shot down in a twisting beam from the hole in the sky, hit
Apollyon’s crossed golden blades, and rocketed towards Marcus.
Marcus didn’t have a chance to brace before it hit him. The first
blast of power burned over him, bouncing off his vambraces and
cutting into two shafts of light as it hit his spear. It was far
stronger than he had anticipated. He hunched forwards, leaning into
the light, and closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wasn’t
strong enough to survive such a direct assault and something told
him that it was only going to get worse. If Apollyon increased the
power of his attack, it wouldn’t be long before Marcus didn’t have
the energy to deflect it.

He had
fought great powers before but they were nothing compared with the
furnace blasting him now, pushing him backwards towards Amelia.
Marcus took a laboured step forwards and growled, his teeth clamped
together so hard they hurt. He pushed forwards, sheer desperation
driving him. He had to protect Amelia.

Another
wave crashed over him, stronger this time, and his knees threatened
to give out. Tears filled his eyes and streamed across his temples
and into his hair as he endured it. It tore at him, heating his
body as it whipped against him, lacerating his armour. He focused
his power and fought it even as his hope of saving her faded. The
longer he withstood it and shielded Amelia, the more time Apollyon
had to fight for control over himself. He was counting on his
friend.

The beam
increased in power and his right arm slipped under the intensity of
it. It struck his right shoulder, knocking it backwards and
unbalancing him. He immediately brought his right armguard up
again, battling through the burning light to get it back in front
of his face.

Marcus
gritted his teeth, planted his feet firmly on the burning ground,
and called all of his strength, using his power to deflect the
destructive force battering him. His right arm blazed so hot that
it was numb and fiery needles pierced his shoulder where the light
had caught his flesh.

There was
no hope for him now. He knew that. All he could do was shield
Amelia until the last of his strength left him and he could no
longer withstand Apollyon’s attack, and then it would tear through
him and through her.

He had
never wished for strength as much as he did now. With more power,
he might have been able to defeat Apollyon and save her. He wished
he could do that for her sake. He had changed nothing by taking her
fate upon himself.

He had
failed her.

She at
least deserved him to die for her because of that.

He would
die for her.

The
layers of blue on his vambraces wore away under the force of the
golden light. Flakes of the enamel flew past his face, catching his
cheeks and ears, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake. The
steel blades of his spear melted and dripped to the ground, hissing
as the flames there engulfed them. The strength of the light
increased again, pushing against him, and as he braced himself, he
felt his armour fracturing and burning away.

His focus
moved to Amelia where she huddled behind him, her fear and pain as
real in his veins as his own, and he wished that he could see her
one last time. He wished that he could look upon her beautiful face
and tell her that he was sorry.

He wished
he could tell her that he loved her.

In his
attempt to save her, he had brought her to meet her fate, and there
was nothing he could do to stop it now. He wasn’t strong enough to
defeat Apollyon, not even when he wanted it with all of his heart
so he could keep his promise and protect her.

Another
blast of light shattered his vambraces and tore at his feathers,
ripping them away. He bore the pain, pleading for it to end and for
Amelia to be safe. He had to stand firm and last a little longer.
He had to for her sake.

In the
midst of the deafening roar and searing pain, Marcus found calm, a
feeling of emptiness and a sense that he was no longer alive. Was
this death? He had never been aware of it before.

Apollyon
stood before him, darkness embodied with his black armour and wings
and vicious blades, and light surrounded him, so bright that he
couldn’t see anything else. He looked into Apollyon’s eyes and saw
the anguish there, and the tears streaking his cheeks as he
directed the might of his power at Marcus. Marcus couldn’t hate him
for what he had done. They were all pawns for their master, slaves
to his voice. The light faded enough that he could see Serenity and
the others as they tried to stop Apollyon. There was such pain in
his fellow warrior’s eyes and Marcus was sorry that he had made him
do this.

He sensed
Amelia behind him.

He didn’t
want to die.

The power
ripped through his arms, cutting him to the bone, and slashed at
his legs.

He didn’t
want to leave her even when he knew that he must in order to
attempt to protect her and the world.

His life
was eternal. This wasn’t death. It was only a new
beginning.

He
grimaced when a stronger wave of power struck him, tearing into his
wings and his chest. The remains of his spear crumbled under the
intense heat. The last of his strength slipped away.

He
battled his pain and focused everything he had left on enduring
Apollyon’s attack for Amelia. For his love. There was no hope for
him but he still had hope for her. He would die here, now, and
though that filled him with immense sorrow because he would never
see Amelia’s smile again or touch her soft face, he could at least
say that he had died for a purpose—protecting her to the end—and
that he had died knowing what love was.

His heart
burned in agony with the knowledge that he would be reborn but
would never remember her. He wanted to see her again, wanted to
find her in his new lifetime. It was impossible. He was destined to
live again knowing that a part of him was missing only never
knowing why. He could only hope that his death meant Amelia’s
survival.

The
silence around him ceased and the roar of death filled his ears. He
lowered his arms and stood tall to face it, raising his chin. It
was over. His power was gone now, his body too weak to continue the
fight, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

Nothing
could save him now.

His eyes
widened as a shape broke the light and tears stung them as it came
into focus.

Amelia
stood with her back to him, her arms outstretched, shielding him
from the wrath of Apollyon’s power with her fragile
body.

“Amelia!”
Marcus reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and turned his
back on Apollyon, falling to his knees at the same time.

He held
her close to him as he battled to remain conscious, tears blurring
his vision. He tried to blink them away but more came. He needed to
see her again. Just one last time before he died. It was all he
wanted. His final wish.

The heat
of power against his back abated but it wasn’t soon enough. Marcus
collapsed against her frail form and drifted into the
darkness.

He knew
what the end of Apollyon’s attack meant.

He had
failed her.

Amelia
was gone.

***

Chapter 16

Pain beat
deep in Marcus’s chest and throbbed through his bones. He couldn’t
recall a time when his rebirth had hurt. His first memories last
time he had died were full of warmth and light, not agony and
darkness. How had he remembered that?

Marcus
slowly opened his eyes. The bright light he expected wasn’t there.
A dull golden glow filled his blurred vision. Shapes shifted across
the fuzzy canvas, growing darker and then lighter, and he tried to
focus on them. The only sound that came to him was a high pitched
ringing. He frowned, drew in a shaky breath, and blinked several
times. His entire arm burned when he lifted it and rubbed his eyes
with his knuckles, trying to clear his vision. It helped a
little.

A darker
shape appeared in front of him, coming in from his right. No, not
in front of him. Above him, he realised as something prickly dug
into his bare back, bottom and legs.

He
narrowed his eyes and the shape grew clearer. He recognised
them.

Taylor.

He wasn’t
dead.

“Keep
still.” Her voice was distant in his ears, watery sounding. She
placed her hands on his bare shoulders when he tried to sit up,
pushing him down into the sharp spikes sticking into his back. He
grimaced and then stared at her, trying to get his head back into
order and remember what had happened. He had been sure that he was
going to die.

Other
voices started to drift through the ringing in his ears as it
dulled and he tilted his head to one side. Across scorched black
ground he saw Einar knelt beside someone, his hands shining
brightly as he swept them over her body, light beaming down on her.
Marcus looked at his hand and then his arm. He could remember his
flesh burning away under the duress of Apollyon’s power. It was
perfect again now. Not a scratch or a bruise to show for his
battle.

His eyes
slowly widened as more came back to him and he looked back at
Einar.

Amelia.

Serenity
knelt on the other side of Amelia’s body to Einar, her eyes closed
and words Marcus couldn’t hear falling from her lips.

Marcus
shoved Taylor aside when she tried to stop him again and pushed
himself up. He made it onto his knees and then retched, coughing up
blood onto the charred stubs of corn.

“You
shouldn’t move.” Taylor tried to take hold of his arm.

He
shirked her grip and continued, bringing his right knee up first
and setting his foot down, and then slowly following it with his
left. It took all of his strength to push himself up into a
standing position and all of his willpower to remain there once he
managed it. The sharp broken stems of corn pierced his bare feet
but he didn’t care. His head spun and the urge to vomit rose up
again. He swallowed it down and stared blankly at Amelia’s body as
Einar and Serenity worked furiously to save her. Was it too
late?

Taylor
spoke to him again, her words lost on him. He couldn’t rest. Not
now.

He
laboured onwards, the warm air washing over his bare body, the
gentle whisper of it and the effort of moving causing every inch of
him to ache and throb.

Apollyon
paced a short distance away with Lukas and his redheaded woman
speaking to him. He didn’t look as though he was listening. The
agitated way he moved backed up the anger Marcus could feel burning
within him. The sky above them was black, the clouds heavy and
forbidding, and not even the light of sunrise could warm them. They
were as dark as the man controlling them, turbulent to reflect his
distress. Heaven would pay for what they had made Apollyon do,
Marcus was sure of that, but it wasn’t any consolation.

Marcus
took a heavy step forwards and followed it with another, keeping
his momentum going as he stumbled across the blackened ground to
Amelia. Pain blazed in every muscle and bone, paralysing him and
stealing what little strength he had. Serenity looked up as he
reached them and caught him as he fell to his knees, hitting the
ground hard. She muttered something soft in French against his
shoulder as he collapsed into her. The overwhelming urge to sleep
crashed over him but he fought it, pushing away from it and
Serenity. His gaze dropped to rest on Amelia. Her face was still
but he couldn’t see any peace there. Cuts littered it and patches
of skin had burned away, leaving angry red welts on her pale face
and her body. Her dress was ruined, the remains of the blue fabric
doing nothing to hide her body from everyone’s eyes.