Death's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels by Heather Killough-Walden Read Free Book Online Page A

empty. There was no reason for people to remain once the shops had closed down. The calls of the sea lions just off the south side of the pier were harsh in an otherwise eerie silence.
    Azrael strode slowly out of the shadows and approached the empty stage upon which performers plied their trade during the day. Beyond that was a massive, beautiful carousel. Az could imagine that during operating hours it whirred in a blur of color and sound as children lined up to ride dragons and sea creatures for three dollars a pop. Now the complex structure was covered in a plastic tarp, unmoving and silent.
    Az took it all in with the same quiet sense of awe that he always felt when gazing upon the echoes of the world. Nighttime held afterimages of people coming and going, buying and selling, smiling and waving good-bye. And by the time Az’s boots followed the footsteps left hours before, only memories remained. They smelled like cotton candy and sea salt and waffle cones. And they felt like the caress of ghosts—there . . . but gone.
    Azrael moved gracefully down the pier toward the sailboats anchored off the north side. He made his way past a handful of seagulls fighting over the remains of a corn dog and stopped at the wooden barrier, allowing the wind to whip through his hair. Then he closed his eyes and sent out a mental call.
    At the moment, Valley of Shadow was on tour across the United States. With the help of the archangels’ mansion, Az and his band mates always showed up in time for each of their appearances. In fact, they were scheduled to play in San Francisco in two weeks. Azrael knew that Sophie planned to be in California by that time. He also knew that she would most likely jump at the chance to see the show. That is, if she wasn’t allowed to psych herself out when he invited her. Azrael could easily make certain of that.
    In the meantime, he had two weeks to charm his way past her defenses and win her trust. That was the difficult part, and it wasn’t something he could use his powers for. No matter how strong supernatural creatures were, one thing they could never master was the ability to make someone love them. There were drugs that made women pass out, there were spells that made them sexually aroused, and vampiric powers could force submission with no more than a passing will. But true love was evasive and unattainable by any means other than one: it had to be earned.
    And the truth was, Azrael wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. From the moment he’d laid eyes on Sophie as she’d helped Juliette down that aisle, Az had known that he was gazing upon a piece of his soul. The sunny piece; the opposite of his dark, dark moon.
    But she didn’t love him. She lusted after him and dreamed of him and fantasized about him—or, at least about the Masked One—but she didn’t love him. Why would she? She had absolutely no reason to. She didn’t know him. Not yet, anyway.
    Sophie was planning to leave Scotland the following day. He’d caught that thought skating through her mind. There was no point to her remaining there; her best friend would be honeymooning, and knowing Gabriel, there would be no interrupting that. Sophie didn’t want to feel like a third wheel, so she’d booked the trip home for sunrise.
    And that was where things got complicated for Az. His brothers would most likely insist that she allow them to simply open a portal in the mansion for her and send her home the easy way, but that would fix only part of the problem. She might get home faster, but she would still be traveling by day.
    Az might be the former Angel of Death and the king of all vampires, but his weaknesses were as strong as they came. He wouldn’t be able to watch over her once the sun came up. She might’ve been oblivious to it, but she needed watching. Sophie was an archess, and the Adarians were still at large. Their leader, Abraxos, was more dangerous—and more determined—than ever.
    There was also Samael and his