Angelic Outcast (Heavenly Chronicles #1) Read online

  Angelic Outcast

  1st in the “Heavenly Chronicles”

  Jessie Wrights

  Artan never knew what to expect when he was called to service on Earth, but the sight of his future charge made him think this one wouldn’t be so bad, until he gets shot during his first meeting with Elizabeth Savante. Turns out she already has a protector, and he is none too pleased to find that Heaven has taken an interest in his partner.

  Khris thought he was safe, his work with Liz kept him constantly moving and out of Heaven’s cross hairs. That is until an angel shows up and tells him that a demon is after Liz. And, to make matters worse, Liz is completely psyched about it. Now he has a choice, he can stay and help protect the best thing that ever happened to him, or he can run before Heaven finds out what and where he is.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jessie Wrights

  ISBN 978-0-692-84111-2

  Editor Elizabeth Wright @ https://www.facebook.com/editingbyelizabeth/

  Cover © 2017 by Winter Bayne @ www.winterbayne.com

  Cover Model Vikkas Bhardwaj @ vikkaszone.com

  Stock images provided by Katie Litchfield @

  http://thy-darkest-hour.deviantart.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  In faith, love, and trust we place our lives and souls into the hands of God and His servants.

  In our hearts He rests, and His voice guides. Listen to Him and may He fill your life with joy.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  1

  Descent

  1

  2

  First Confrontation

  27

  3

  Recovery

  50

  4

  The Gorge

  69

  5

  Safe House

  89

  6

  Khris’s House

  116

  7

  Nareste’s Release

  144

  8

  Unexpected Arrival

  177

  9

  Infiltration

  199

  10

  Interception

  224

  11

  Repercussions

  240

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I want to thank my great team, Elizabeth Wright, my editor, and Winter Bayne, cover artist. Without you two ladies, this never would have been possible.

  I also want to thank the fellow Authors, Bloggers, and especially Readers that helped to make the success of this book and it's subsequent sequels possible.

  1 - dESCENT

  Striding quickly through the golden marble halls that led to the council chamber, Artan was filled with anticipation. He never knew what to expect when he was called to stand before his Tribunal. The council’s purpose was to assign tasks to the Angels under its command, and as an Ophanim he had been charged with the safety of many humans throughout history.

  They had almost all been interesting in one way or another, and he wasn’t one to scoff at human company, but more than once he had questioned the merits of the humans he had been assigned, at least to himself. He long ago accepted that he would never understand how the Tribunal chose who deserved their protection and who didn’t, but he followed his orders faithfully, at times sacrificing those he felt were more deserving. But he trusted their judgment, most of the time.

  Upon entering the chamber, he took a moment to gaze at the splendor above. The ceiling of the room depicted a long-forgotten battle, brought back to life in full color until one could believe that they need only reach out and they could touch. Angels of all shapes and sizes fought bravely against an opposing army of Fallen; Angels that had turned from Heaven and had chosen to serve Morningstar, Heaven’s greatest enemy. Angelic weapons flared as they sliced through demon flesh, while along the edges of the mural, humans watched in a combination of horror and awe. Artan didn’t know the artist, but he had been told that the painting had taken several lifetimes; it was to serve as a reminder to all Ophanim what, exactly, it was they fought to protect.

  Compared to the mural, the rest of the room was bland in its plainness. Modeled after the architecture of ancient Greece and Rome, the decorative columns spaced evenly around the room were the only feature that broke up the monotony of white. That, and the half-moon circular table made from a solid slab of white-gold marble that took up the far section of the room where the three Angels of the Tribunal sat.

  The Angel sitting in the center of the table called out when he realized that Artan was waiting. Elion had the appearance of a man in his early to mid-twenties, even though he was one of the oldest angels Artan had ever met, but that meant little to a race of immortals. Artan was still considered young by Angel standards, not yet seeing his second millennium. Though Elion was by no means unhealthy, he wasn’t in fighting trim as so many of the Ophanim and Chayot were, giving him a leaner physique than many Angels of his class. His curly black hair and bright blue eyes only served to make him look more like a teenager than the elder he was.

  “Ophanim Artan. Your newest charge is a woman by the name of Elizabeth Savante.” Councilor Elion declared, while an image formed in the center of the room. Artan felt himself grow warm at the sight that took shape in front of his eyes. A woman with the body of a warrior and a modified automatic machine gun cradled in her two delicate hands. Dark brown leather covered her lean but fit body from neck to boot covered toes. Her long hair was the only concession to her femininity, but that didn’t change the fact that she was most definitely a woman. Appearing to be of South American decent, her skin shone the color of caramel and her long hair was so dark brown it was almost black.

  Elion continued his briefing while Artan examined his new charge, “She is a protector of innocence. Many of the children she saves will have important roles in the future. She has been declared a target in the Halls of Hades and a Corrupter will soon be sent to acquire her. If it cannot turn her, it will end her life. It will be your duty to protect her while you deal with any demons, until Morningstar or one of his subordinates decides that she is more trouble then she is worth.”

  Basic protect and discourage. Depending on how determined Hades was to kill her, he could be in for a very eventful period. Normally this would suit him, since at least he wouldn’t be bored, but depending on how close they got, it was always hard to hide such activities from the charge he was protecting. Almost all of what humans would call supernatural creatures, had some type of cloaking to keep themselves hidden, but that didn’t work when things were blowing up and being destroyed around the one they were hiding from.

  Artan’s musings were interrupted by the bang of a gavel, “The transport chamber already has the coordinates for your destination,” Tristian announced, with a clear dismissal. The Angel was a hulking brute that was as muscled as Elion was lean. It was rumored he sparred with no less than three partners at any one time. “Here are the details of your assignment,” as Artan was tossed a small crystal. The data crystals were the Angels’ equivalent of a human flash drive. It would have all the information Artan needed.

  So far, Artan didn’t think that this assignment was shaping up too badly. “I understand.” He gave a salute to the triad before leaving the room.

  After he was gone,
“Are we sure no warning should have been given?” Oria asked, “He does not know that these will be his last days among us.” She was slightly worried for the Angel. Of this tribunal, she was the gentlest; her talents resting in the realm of foresight and strategy, rather than in battle.

  “He is on the path. He must find his destiny on his own. We all knew he was never meant for this life. Now he will form another that will be more suited to him,” Elion intoned. Though he, too, was slightly worried for Artan; his road would be a hard one and Elion never liked to see his brethren struggle.

  The area where he landed on Earth wasn’t the worst he had ever been sent to, but it did rank in the top ten. An insect infested, humidity ridden jungle on one of the most politically unstable continents in the world was not his idea of a vacation spot, but, of course, if she was a debutante living on a private beach then she wouldn’t be needing his protection. Straightening his spine, retracting his wings, and materializing the clothes that he would need to blend in as well as he could, he headed off in the direction his senses told him was the way to his new charge. One of the benefits of being an Ophanim was that once he was assigned a charge, he could find them anywhere in the world. It just became harder the further away they were.

  Working his way through the brush, he came across a small village nestled in the thick cover of the jungle. The thatched huts were so overgrown by mosses, that he was well past the outskirts before he realized where he was. Hoping no one had seen him, he backed up into the cover of shadows. His charge was close, he could feel it.

  Listening hard for any signs of life, he was drawn by the sound of childish laughter. Following the sound, he stuck to the cover of the huts and shadows until he could assess the situation. Standing tall in a rare sunny spot provided by an opening in the canopy, he sighted the woman he was looking for and his breath caught. With a single sunbeam shining on her, the light kissed her smooth skin and turned her hair to flames. Her sudden laughter had his spine stiffening before she moved; spinning out of the reach of a small boy that was trying to tackle her in what was obviously a game. That was when he noticed the dozen or so children running around the area. It was also when he heard the hammer of a gun being cocked behind his head.

  Khris had heard someone stumbling around. Most of the village men had gone out for the day, and the few who remained had hidden in their huts from the outsiders. Never mind that their group was comprised of two adults and a bunch of kids. But they, begrudgingly, let them camp nearby in peace and that was all Khris cared about. He was used to rejection and so were most of the kids.

  Finding an Angel lurking around wasn’t what he had expected, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. Normally, he would have disabled him and got Liz and the kids out as fast as he could, or gone off on his own to try and lose him. But since the Angel held no weapons and was trying his best to look like a mortal, it gave Khris pause. No Angel would come after someone like him without a weapon in hand, even though they were never truly unarmed. If he was lucky this one wasn’t after him, and if he was here for Liz, then they both needed to know why.

  The silence coming from behind him was starting to concern Artan. He could survive a gunshot to the head, but he would be incapacitated for hours as his brain regenerated. Finally, a cold voice hissed from behind him. “I wouldn’t try anything funny. She doesn’t like it when things die in front of the kids, but there are always exceptions.”

  “I am not here to cause any harm.” Artan reassured, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. Not that it really meant anything, but his captor didn’t know that.

  “I didn’t think you were. No one who sneaks around so poorly could cause much harm, at least if they didn’t mean to get caught.” the voice scornfully rasped.

  “So, how about lowering the gun?” Artan suggested, in his most convincing tone.

  “Don’t think so. I haven’t quite made up my mind about you yet. She hasn’t seen you, so I still have the option of taking you out, golden boy. Which, by the way, kind of stick out like a sore thumb there, buddy, way to blend. Anyway, I kind of like having her all to myself and I don’t much care for competition.” Artan felt the gun move from his head to his back.

  Hoping that he was getting somewhere with his captor, “I am here for her protection, she pissed off someone big and there is a hit out on her.” Artan had memorized the cover story in order to convince his charge to cooperate.

  The man behind him snorted with laughter, “If that’s the story you’re going with, good luck. She’ll probably see right through it, but it‘ll be amusing watching you try.” Without warning the gun was removed from his back and a shot rang out. As a sharp, burning pain spread through Artan’s leg, he crumpled to the ground. Clutching at his leg to stop the bleeding, “Now, you can talk to her,” the man behind him said with a chuckle.

  Artan could hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Looking up with hatred in his expression and every intention of putting this uppity mortal in his place, Artan met the gaze of one of the darkest mortals he had ever seen.

  Appearing of Mediterranean descent, the man had the dark complexion and black hair that came with the region, and narrow hazel eyes with a slight tilt that shifted color with the light, from brown to green to an almost orange. Dressed in a black shirt and pants, it would be easy for him to meld into the shadows that surrounded them. But it wasn’t his clothes or physical appearance that rubbed Artan the wrong way, it was the man’s essence that coated him like a second skin. It brushed against Artan’s senses like an oil slick, dirty and suffocating.

  He was easily over six feet in height, with a sturdy build and obvious muscles that would make any warrior Angel proud. He also held the six-shot revolver in his hand with the confidence of someone who knew well what they were doing with it. Artan could honestly admit that, if they were both human, the outcome of a fight between them would be uncertain, but Artan was as far from a human as a man was from a dog.

  For a moment, Artan contemplated the possibility that he might be the Corrupter. But as unusual as his aura was, it wasn’t right for a Demon or even a Possessed, and he would most likely be dead already. One thing he could also give the man, he was quiet on his feet.

  Had Hades developed a way to mask its operatives, and if they had, what game was he playing? Artan almost immediately dismissed the notion. What did disturb him was that there had been no information about this man in the data he had been given.

  With a grunt, Artan pushed himself back to his feet. “That way.” The man punctuated his order by motioning with the revolver in his hand. Limping as well as he could, Artan stepped toward the woman with a wince. It felt as though the bullet had gone through his fibula. His leg would heal, but shattered bones still hurt.

  “We have company, Liz.” The man shouted to get her attention, as she was busy trying to calm the children who were spooked by the gun shot.

  “Khris? Where have you…” she started to ask as she turned to face him, only for her voice to stop and her expression to harden. “And who is this?” her voice dropping into that hostile tone that only women seem to manage, and that all men with a brain knew to fear.

  For a moment, the man named Khris actually seemed chagrined, “I hadn’t actually gotten around to asking that yet,” he admitted reluctantly.

  Dang it, he was in trouble. Liz didn’t like it when he had to hurt people, but she understood when it was necessary. She wouldn’t see how his shooting the Angel would be necessary in this instance, and he couldn’t tell her without revealing himself. If it did turn out the Angel was here for him, or he decided to take Khris out of the equation, the wound would give him a little extra time to get away. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, so he braced himself for the scolding and temporary cold shoulder he could see coming.

  “Of course, because, naturally, shooting him and rattling the wits of everyone within a mile was so much more important,” she scolded as she walked up to Artan without hesitation. Liz really d
id have more brawn then brains sometimes, in Khris’s opinion. “I would offer to fix you up, Angel, but we both know you don’t need it,” Liz quipped, using the same sarcastic tone with him that she had with Khris.

  Following the exchange with amusement, it took Artan aback when the conversation suddenly switched to him. Catching her last words, Artan blinked at her in obvious surprise, “Pardon?” he asked.

  Smiling arrogantly, “I’m a Mystic, basically a good witch. Your kind stick out clear as day to me,” she went on to explain.

  Khris made a choking sound behind him.

  Elizabeth took a moment to shift her gaze from Artan to Khris and a silent communication passed between them, but from the woman’s expression, she was clearly displeased with him. “So why are you here, Angel?” shifting her attention back to Artan.

  Though entirely unexpected, this was good, in a way. He’d never had a charge that actually knew what he was before. Though why the fact that she was imbued with powers had not been revealed to him was a gross oversight that he would have to look into. There were too many holes forming in this assignment for his piece of mind; first the man named Khris and then this. But if she already knew about his kind then it would be easier to get her to cooperate with him, “I was sent to protect you.” Khris snorted in derision behind him.

  “So, you’re a guardian angel?” Liz replied, intrigued. Since she was a child, she had been able to see the Angels that wandered on earth, but this was only the second time she had ever spoken to one. The first time had been when she was a child; that one had warned her that it was not allowed for mortals to talk to them, but, surely, she could talk to her own guardian?