Angelus Read online

  Dedication

  FOR MY DAUGHTER,

  WHO IS ALL THE INSPIRATION I NEED

  Acknowledgments

  Five years ago, when I sat down to write the acknowledgments for Archon, the first installment in the Books of Raziel trilogy, the day when I’d sit to write them again for the final novel in the series seemed like a speck on the horizon of life.

  Yet here I am.

  I’ve spent a literal decade in Angela Mathers’s world. In that time, I’ve learned so much about myself as a person and as a writer that in many ways, I can say these novels are a part of me. It is a surreal feeling to leave these characters behind. But like all turning points in life, this stage was inevitable. These acknowledgments are a fond farewell from me to a world I’ve created, but they’re also an embrace of the future and all those who’ve made it possible.

  So I sincerely thank my husband, my precious daughter, my parents, my family, my close friends, and all the fans of this trilogy for their encouragement, faith, and pride in my work. No words can ever express how much that has meant to me throughout this journey.

  I also sincerely thank my agent, Ann Behar, my editor, Kelly O’Connor, copy editor Laurie McGee, cover artist Nekro, and the team at Harper Voyager who worked to turn this book into a concrete reality. Thank you for all you’ve done to help make my dreams come true.

  My dear cockatiel, Caesar, thank you for always chirping your enthusiasm over the years.

  And God, who makes all things possible, thank You for carrying me through them.

  Until next time, everyone!

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  GenesisThe Story So Far

  Zero

  Part One: Reawakening One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Part Two: Reunited Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Part Three: Regret Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Part Four: Ruin Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Part Five: Revolution Thirty-four

  Part Six: Return Thirty-five

  Glossary of Terms, Places, People, and Things

  About the Author

  Also by Sabrina Benulis

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Genesis The Story So Far

  Before the beginning of all things, there was a Mother who sang and carried the stars within her.

  Worry consumed her because often the stars near her heart burned and jostled, as if fighting one another. Then the unthinkable happened, and she gave birth to twins long before the appointed time. These children were meant to be equal in every way, but from the start one twin decided to claim dominion over our universe. He attacked his sibling, murdering him, and from then on a fragile balance weighed toward the side of shadows.

  The Mother who had carried these gods fell into the deepest despair and took her punishment to the depths of the eternal Abyss.

  Innumerable cycles of time passed before an angel named Raziel found her again.

  Raziel was one of three powerful sibling angels, and they had also been told their purpose was to share equal rule over the universe. Yet the jealousy and rivalry between two of them, Israfel and Lucifel, grew to a feverish pitch, and upon returning to his home in Heaven, Raziel found his sister, Lucifel, instigating the infamous War that would divide the angels forever into two opposing kingdoms.

  It was a dreadful time of blood and feathers falling like the snow.

  Raziel was the last to fall. Horrified and determined to end the bloodshed, he had confronted God and begged for intervention to stop Lucifel’s rebellion. Instead, he plummeted to his death in full view of his siblings, one of whom loved him more than life itself.

  The glorious time of Israfel’s rule as Archangel in Heaven was over.

  Lucifel too had failed to claim the crown she so desperately desired, and she fled to her new kingdom of Hell. But the Throne of Hell was little more than a prison, and Lucifel found herself swiftly jailed by the angels who had once worshipped her. They called themselves demons, and though their kingdom remained forever dark and dismal, they never forgot the glories of long ago.

  This truce between angels and demons could not last. Instead, Lucifel’s influence grew from the darkness, and her twisted ideals seeped throughout the universe. Seeking the mysterious power contained in Raziel’s Book, one of his greatest treasures, it is claimed she means to destroy the universe that mocks her suffering.

  The last hope for a crumbling world is a being called the Archon, also known as Angela Mathers. Angela is human, but her unique soul is protected by the spirit of Raziel. She alone can successfully oppose Lucifel and open Raziel’s Book for the power of good rather than evil. However, the Book is not a thing but a person, and Angela knows that to open the Book would mean murdering her best friend, Sophia. She has refused to do so, seemingly sentencing the universe to a fate of silence worse than death, because it would be one without resurrection.

  Angela Mathers firmly believed that even Hell could not separate her from her friend. She suffered, and bled, and fought in a twisted demonic maze to save the Book from destruction, only to unwittingly allow Lucifel to escape back to Heaven.

  Now Angela sits on the Throne of Hell, fulfilling a prophecy of Ruin. But Ruin does not always mean destruction. Sometimes it means Revolution. Crowns pass from one person to the next, yet it takes a special soul to heal the burdens of all.

  The Mother’s song no longer echoes throughout the universe, and new notes wait to be revealed. Now, the moment of change has finally arrived. The end of a cycle of pain has begun.

  For though souls have hurt, and bled, and cried, the light ever returns in a rushing, relentless tide.

  Zero

  LUZ

  Father Schrader clutched the parchment in his hands and stared up at the scaffolding climbing the side of St. Matthias Church. He’d been careful to erase each of his footprints as he’d advanced through the heavy snow, leaning down to fill them back in before anyone noticed. Perhaps that would all be for nothing. Surely, the scaffolding would rattle the second he set foot on it.

  He didn’t have much choice. The church doors were probably locked.

  He glanced around, observing the nearby buildings. Most of them were in a state of heavy decay. Only one or two probably had any inhabitants. Faintly, down a long cobbled alley, he could see flickering candles set in one of the windows. As if the people inside sensed they were being watched, the candles suddenly snuffed out.

  Father Schrader looked up at the dark sky. He listened for the telltale sound of heavy wingbeats.

  Nothing. Now was his chance.

  He folded the paper into fourths and set his numb hands on the metal scaffold. The first two sections used ladders rather than stairs, and a layer of glassy ice slicked the rails. He bit his lip, trying to ignore the painful chill already leaching into his palms. His teeth chattered despite his heavy coat. “I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered to no one in particular, and his voice sounded hollow in the lonely air.

  He really should have sent one of the novices on this mission. But Nina
Willis had insisted that it was best he go himself.

  With painful slowness, he ascended the scaffold. It didn’t rattle after all. Perhaps it was too cold, as if the church also had a skeleton and bones that could freeze solid.

  His foot slipped once, twice. Adrenaline raced through him like fire, and his heartbeat galloped. Then, at last, he reached a platform next to one of the broken windows. It had once held a sparkling picture of the Annunciation. Now it was a busted menagerie of color. The angel’s face in the picture had shattered, leaving behind a headless figure with white wings. Father Schrader settled down beside the hole in the angel’s face. His hands shivering with cold, he pulled out the parchment and reread it. The writing looked hasty, more scratches than letters.

  Father Schrader,

  Some of the members of the Vermilion Order have been meeting secretly at St. Matthias Church. Fury says they often arrive at midnight, but it’s too dangerous for her to enter the church herself, and besides, the angels are shooting down too many crows for sport. None remain at that location, and so my presence would be suspect too. I have a bad feeling about what’s going on there. We’ll do our part to scour Luz and find Gloriana’s mirror tonight—and take it before anyone notices. If we don’t hear from you by morning, Juno will come looking.

  Best of luck,

  Nina Willis

  Father Schrader hesitated for a moment. Then, his mind set, he tore the parchment into minuscule pieces and shoved them into his pocket. If he was killed, let his murderers think he’d acted alone.

  The silence gnawed at him. His heart still racing, he turned and looked out over the western side of Luz.

  The grander mansions owned by the Vatican still shone with an ironically optimistic golden light. If he focused, Father Schrader could discern the steeple of St. Mary’s Cathedral, and surrounding it, many of Westwood Academy’s tallest buildings. Beyond them lay the poorer divisions of the island city, and then the landscape sloped downward, and most of the houses descended with it, until one stood at the edge of an eerily calm ocean. Ordinarily, the view from where he sat would have been even more spectacular. Glorious lights had probably kissed every window in the city only a few months ago, during the festive Christmas season. Amazing, the shadows that fear brought.

  Because in the sky overloaded with stars, another city revolved. It seemed large as a galaxy, and its multicolored brilliance emanated power and majesty. From its sparkling depths, angels flew and entered Luz, and its light shone like a moon in Luz’s perpetual night. The beauty of the angelic city almost matched the terror it induced.

  Worlds that should never have contact with each other were on the brink of colliding.

  Father Schrader startled. Voices had started to echo inside the church. Carefully, he turned, leaned close to the hole in the window, and peered inside. A suffocating darkness filled the space, but his eyes eventually adjusted. Slivers of light from the angelic city penetrated even here.

  There was nothing to see at first. Just rotten pews and snow.

  He searched in the direction of the altar. Shadows moved and conversed anxiously with one another. It was clear that some of them wore the long black coats of novices. Others were priests he recognized from conclaves in Luz. Others wore ordinary clothes, but their stance and louder voices suggested people in authority. The jumble of voices made it impossible to glean anything from their conversation.

  Then, every voice silenced. A few candles were lit, and the faces above them searched the ramparts of the church for spies. One of those faces focused in on the Annunciation window.

  Father Schrader ducked. Despite the cold, sweat beaded his forehead.

  But nothing happened. He must not have been seen.

  Inch by inch, he dared to rise and look through the hole again. There were more lights now, and he recognized a few individuals with absolute certainty. Two of them were female: a novice under his direction named Lizbeth and a young girl from the elementary grades. He didn’t know her name, but she’d been to him for confession multiple times. Her blond hair caught the light and seemed to shine. Many of those in the church spoke to her with a reverence almost as shocking as her presence.

  Then she turned aside to speak to Lizbeth, and her eyes flashed an ominous shade of crimson.

  It couldn’t be.

  Father Schrader held his breath, struggling to hear. The young girl’s voice floated toward him like an echo.

  “. . . I will not tolerate anyone standing in my way. Besides, I respect you enough to see you as less than absolute fools. Neither the Archon nor Her supporters will win this battle. So make certain that if you join my mother’s cause, you have no intention of turning back. She tolerates betrayal even less than myself . . .”

  “How do we know that you won’t betray us?” a bombastic voice said. “Do you think we allowed you to take those souls from Memorial Cemetery without suffering for it? Even now—and forgive me—but it almost feels like a mistake. You’re unlike the other angels, after all. You must understand our concern . . .”

  Father Schrader recognized that voice. It was Bishop Kline, the mayor of Luz in all but actual title.

  The priest shivered more. How fortunate he’d decided not to be open with any of his superiors.

  “Do you mean you’re suffering from a guilty conscience?” the girl asked. Her eyes glowed softly. “That is none of my concern, priest. Besides, consider the great good you’re doing in exchange. My mother, Lucifel, will reward you for your service. Trust me, unlike how she has been portrayed throughout history, she tends to keep her promises.”

  “But if you would just tell us what you intend to do with them—”

  “Does it matter?” the girl said. “In your beliefs they are beyond pain. That should be enough to console you for now.”

  Bishop Kline’s hesitant stance suggested he wasn’t quite sure of his beliefs anymore.

  Father Schrader struggled to control his ragged breaths. He’d encountered this strange angel before. Her name was Mikel, and, stunningly enough, she’d just revealed herself to be the Devil’s daughter. But why were the angels stealing human souls? The frightening hunger behind Mikel’s burning eyes could mean all sorts of things. Though there was sadness too. Its oppressive weight seemed to tighten the world around them all.

  Even so, he couldn’t understand. Why would angels obey Lucifel? She ruled over Hell.

  Unless—

  Had she infiltrated Heaven again somehow?

  Now a young male novice stepped forward. The gold cross at his neck gleamed brightly. “Enough of this fearmongering,” he said bravely, inching toward Mikel.

  His left hand fidgeted behind his back with something else that caught the light. A dagger.

  He searched his companions nervously, but none dared to move with him or back him up. “What can your kind possibly do for us?” the novice continued, his voice trembling. “You’re nothing but winged monsters. And you—you’re the most monstrous of all. I know what will happen. Whether with the Archon’s help or without it, we’re doomed. Lucifel will destroy us when she tires of our existence. You’re probably taking those souls to devour them, or to use them for some hellish purpose. I remember what that demon did in St. Mary’s. So then, this is for my dead sister,” he shouted.

  He lunged at Mikel with the dagger.

  A few individuals rushed to hold him back. Cries of anger and fear reverberated through the church.

  Instantly, the little girl dropped unconscious to the ground and the novice began to scream.

  His screams ceased as abruptly as they began. The little girl stirred in her sleep and a priest swiftly knelt by her side, lifting her up into a sitting position. “She’s alive,” he said sharply to the others who’d gathered around them. A collective sigh of relief went through everyone.

  But the novice who’d dared to attack Mikel now stood with his eyes glowing red.

  “Would anyone else like to try something stupid?” the angel said through him.
/>   Everyone turned and stared at him, wide-eyed. No one said a word. Mikel had jumped from one body to another in the space of a thought.

  “This should convince you,” she said softly, “that the Archon’s power can’t match my mother’s or mine. And if you think the Supernal Israfel will save you, consider that he’s imprisoned by Lucifel now as well. If Lucifel’s new reign is about to begin, make the intelligent decision about whose side to be on. The universe’s last hourglass has turned over, and God no longer holds it. It is us or Angela Mathers. And I doubt she’ll feel very merciful toward the humans who made her life so miserable.”

  So that was it. Despite whatever was going on with the human souls taken from Memorial Cemetery, Mikel’s intention was for Angela Mathers—the Archon—to die if she returned to Luz. It was pure insanity—Angela could certainly choose to end the world, but she could also choose to save it. Lucifel, on the other hand . . . no human really knew her goals, but they couldn’t be good.

  Yet it made little sense. Nina had told Father Schrader that Mikel had been helpful previously.

  The angel probably had her own motivations. Her oppressive sorrow might be a clue. But regardless of everything, that meant once they’d brought Angela back from Hell, she would have to be protected. No one could afford her death. The Book of Raziel had to be opened and the final choice to ultimately save or destroy the universe made, and before it crumbled apart or—just as terribly—the dimensions collided together.

  He could only wonder what was keeping Angela from making that choice already.

  Father Schrader shifted his weight to his knees.

  An echoing creak shuddered through the scaffold. A piece of the platform snapped.

  Mikel whipped around to look up at the hole in the window.

  She saw him. Her red eyes narrowed angrily.

  The others in the church shouted in confusion. Father Schrader sensed rather than saw that Mikel was coming after him. Trembling violently, he scrambled backward and began to half climb and half slide down the first ladder back to the ground. If he slipped, he’d certainly either die or at least break bones.