The Third Throne: Angel of Vengeance Read online

  The Third Throne:

  Angel of Vengeance

  Tabitha Barret

  © Copyright 2016 Heather Baker

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  For copyright and publishing information, contact Tabitha Barret at her website http://www.tabithabarret.com

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to persons real, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Books in the Third Throne Series:

  The Third Throne: Angel of Darkness

  The Third Throne: Angel of Death

  “While seeking revenge, dig two graves - one for yourself.”

  - Douglas Horton

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 7

  Chapter 2 28

  Chapter 3 48

  Chapter 4 59

  Chapter 5 76

  Chapter 6 91

  Chapter 7 112

  Chapter 8 135

  Chapter 9 148

  Chapter 10 170

  Chapter 11 188

  Chapter 12 208

  Chapter 13 222

  Chapter 14 245

  Chapter 15 272

  Chapter 16 292

  Chapter 17 315

  Chapter 18 328

  Chapter 19 346

  Chapter 20 365

  Chapter 21 383

  Chapter 22 395

  Chapter 23 415

  Chapter 24 434

  Epilogue 456

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my friends, family, and fans for supporting me on this wild ride. You have no idea how exciting it is to see the characters that I have known for years finally filling the pages of my books. The secret world that has held my attention for decades is finally alive for others to read. It’s very thrilling and terrifying. I hope my readers and my fans love this world as much as I do.

  Thank you to my wonderfully patient husband who listens to little bits of stories and character developments here and there, even though I haven’t told him the whole story yet. He nods and agrees with me and smiles until I leave the room, then goes back to watching the game. I love you and thank you for putting up with my long hours and crazy rants about my characters. Thank you for proofing everything that I write and shipping copies of my books at the last minute.

  I wish to thank my two children for putting up with quick dinners and hours without seeing me, while I’m madly typing away. Most of all, I’d like to thank Thing One for making this book so much more than I thought it could be. Because of your unbending criticism of my work, I was forced to reevaluate my storyline. Without you, half of my book would have been a boring mess. Your frustrating need to have a war between my monsters and my Celestial Warriors caused me serious headaches and countless hours creating dozens of new characters, but in the end, I’m glad that you were unyielding in your demands. Thankfully, the story wrote itself, as it often does. I know the book is better because of your war. One day, when you are allowed to read my books, I hope that you are proud of me and enjoy the battle scenes.

  To Diane, my first fan, I hope this one is steamy enough for you! To my pain in the ass beta reader and proofer Min, I appreciate your criticism, even though I hate you for it. You never hold punches and sometimes that’s what I need, though not what I want. I hope you are starting to understand my vision and are enjoying the journey I’m taking you on.

  Lastly, thank you to all of my friends for supporting my writing and jumping up and down when I receive news about awards or comfort me when I’m upset about a review. Thank you to Kelly, Christie, Gilda, Raisa, Lynsey, Jason, and Wanda. You guys are my family and I love you for it!

  Chapter 1

  Sumer, Mesopotamia, 2956 BCE

  “Again!” Aeries shouted.

  “I cannot take any more, Aeries. I cannot see,” Balthazar pleaded. He wiped the blood from his eyes and willed his forehead to stop bleeding long enough to see his enraged opponent. Aeries had struck him hard enough that he nearly lost sight in his right eye.

  “Your enemy will not care that you cannot see! Do you expect them to stand around waiting for your vision to clear? No! They will slit your throat!” Aeries bellowed. “Use your other senses. Listen to my footfalls. Reach out to find me, if you must. Smell the sweat in the air. Do whatever it takes to determine my location. If you do not, you will die!”

  Balthazar saw a blur of metal through his swollen eyes and felt the breeze from Aeries’ sword across his face. There would be no additional warning. The next hit might very well remove his head from his neck if he did not defend himself.

  Balthazar pushed himself to his knees and swung wildly, hoping to deter Aeries long enough to get to his feet. Unfortunately, Aeries had anticipated his move of desperation and knocked him in the back of his skull with a vicious elbow. Balthazar stumbled forward and fell victim to the nausea rolling through his stomach and head. He vowed to dull down every blade that Aeries owned before their next lesson. Aeries would take issue with his weapons being damaged, but Balthazar did not care.

  Aeries advanced on a doubled-over Balthazar and kicked him in the backside, sending him into the sand again.

  “Pathetic! How am I supposed to train him? He allows a simple thing like blindness to defeat him,” Aeries snarled.

  Alazar, the Angel of Death, crossed the sandy sparing circle behind their latest dwelling on the edge of the city. He put his hand on Aeries’ shoulder in an attempt to calm the Angel of Anger.

  “I told you to train him how to fight, not leave him for dead,” Alazar sighed.

  “He is not working with me. He refuses to take direction,” Aeries huffed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and threw his sword into the soft ground.

  Alazar rubbed his forehead, seeking the patience to deal with both of the Predznak.

  “Aeries, you once trained the Celestial Warriors. I am sure there was someone more pitiful than Balthazar. I know he is the former Angel of Meekness, but I know you can do this. I have seen you turn the weakest angel into a force to be reckoned with. I know you will succeed, but you need more patience. This is not how you used to train the warriors back in Heaven. You would never have kicked a student while they were down,” Alazar tsked at Aeries, hoping to deflate his infamous rage.

  Aeries sighed and rolled his shoulders. “That was before, Alazar. I am not that angel anymore, just as you are no longer the Angel of Determination. I will succeed, but Balthazar needs to find the will to fight. I cannot ignite the fire inside of him. He needs to do that himself. I can teach him the moves and give him the skills to succeed, but without the fire in his belly urging him to win, he will never be a warrior.”

  Alazar nodded his head in agreement understanding the problem.

  He walked over to Balthazar, who was leaning against a hollowed-out stump. He wiped the blood from Balthazar’s eyes with his sheepskin shawl. Balthazar’s long curly brown hair was matted with blood. Dirt clung to his sweat-covered cheeks and chin.

  “Balthazar, I did not choose you to become the Angel of Vengeance, you volunteered. I have no idea what made you choose to become a Predznak for the Bringer of the Apocalypse, but it is your responsibility to do your job and stay alive. I will not always be there to protect you. Our Master will need us to be strong so that we may carry out her commands and end the world when she decrees that it is time. How are you going to accomplish your task while sitting in the dirt nursing your wounds?”

&n
bsp; “What does it matter? Our Master is not here. How do you know what she will require of us if you have never met her?” Balthazar looked away, disgusted that he would one day have to bow to a Master. “Father did not tell us to bear arms when he asked for volunteers. He asked for angels who would tempt the mortals. As the Angel of Vengeance, I understand the sin that I embody. I understand revenge and retribution. I know how to tempt the mortals to commit these sins. Vengeance is not about drawing a sword and killing. It is about seeking false justice to right a wrong, regardless if it is an imagined slight, or an actual crime. What does that have to do with fighting?” Balthazar asked for the thousandth time. He hated having this argument, but he did not want to bleed anymore at Aeries’ hands.

  Alazar grabbed Balthazar’s chin and forced him to look at him. “When our Master arrives, do you want her to find a group of doleful angels who have sat on their backsides for centuries whining that they did not know what to do without her guidance? We were created to tempt the mortals to choose a path, Heaven or Hell, good or evil, but there is more to it. Not everyone agrees with what we are doing. Not everyone believes the world should be destroyed during an Apocalypse. There was dissent during the Premena Ceremony. Many angels were afraid to volunteer, but others refused because they opposed the creation of the Bringer of the Apocalypse. She will have many enemies, Balthazar. If one of those enemies tries to stop her when she decides it is time to start an Apocalypse, we will need to defend her and kill anyone standing against her,” Alazar explained. “You all elected me as your leader, so it falls on me to prepare the nine of you for what the future may bring. Now, since I am no longer Determination, I cannot give you some inspirational speech about how you should never give up. All I can say is, do not die on my watch. Be an asset, not a liability. I do not want my first conversation with our Master to be about why she needs to find a new Angel of Vengeance.” He feared what would happen if the Predznak were not ready to stand beside their Master. She could very well dispose of them and choose new angels, angels who could protect her.

  Balthazar wiped his nose. He understood Alazar’s concern about being a liability, but he did not see how having his backside handed to him every day was going to keep that from happening. He would never be good enough to defeat Aeries and prove himself worthy in Alazar’s eyes. If their Master’s enemies attacked, he could tempt them to seek vengeance on a different target. No bloodshed would be required. The Angel of Death did not comprehend any alternatives to killing in order to win. He had a narrow view of defeating an enemy and it always ended with them splattered across the landscape. There were other ways to best an enemy, if only Alazar could understand that. Besides, Alazar did not force the other Predznak to take up arms. Why should he be the only one to suffer? Haydn, the Angel of Distrust, had chosen to become skilled with knives, but no one broke his bones when he faltered during his practice sessions.

  “Why don’t you make Tristan or Zacharael learn to fight? Neither of them knows how to use a sword. Why am I being singled out?” Balthazar asked, frustrated that he would become blind before Alazar accepted his shortcomings.

  Alazar sighed. “Balthazar, do you remember what you were like in Heaven? I do. You cried when it rained in the Mortal Realm because you feared that it would crush the flowers. When the clouds hid the sunshine from the trees, you cried because the trees would not receive enough light to grow. You groveled at everyone’s feet, including mine, when you accidentally walked in front of us. You agreed with everyone around you, never having an opinion of your own. Heaven forbid we were mad at you; you would hide in your room for a week afraid of offending us. Everything was ‘yes, sir,’ and ‘no, sir,’ and ‘I’m sorry, sir’. I will never understand why Father allowed you to volunteer to become Vengeance. I wanted to argue with Father, but Gabriel stopped me. He told me that it was Father’s decision and that I was not allowed to question it. I wish to Heaven above that I had questioned Him. Instead, I am forced to toughen you up. What would the mortals think of the Angel of Vengeance if he cried for the flowers?

  “As far as Tristan and Zacharael are concerned, their power is enough to protect them. Tristan can use his power to fill an enemy with fear and reduce them to a sniveling child. Zacharael can convince the mortals that they do not want to see him hurt. If all else fails, Zacharael can divert a mortal’s attention with his handsome face. You, on the other hand, tempt mortals to lash out at one another. One day, one of your temptees will turn on you and blame you for tempting them. They will want revenge on you when they come to their senses and see the damage they have inflicted under your temptation. The same thing has happened to Aeries and Haydn. I personally had a woman attempt to slit my throat in my sleep after she killed her cheating husband and the village called for her demise. What will you do if a temptee turns against you, cry, and beg for mercy?”

  Balthazar remembered how shy and timid he had been in Heaven, but he felt different since becoming Vengeance. He no longer cried when it rained or when someone was mad at him. Hell, he had not cried after losing his fight with Aeries. He had learned to quell his tears shortly after leaving Heaven. Though Alazar considered him weak, it did not mean that he was completely helpless. He could make each of the Predznak so consumed with vengeance that they would forget their mission and spend the entire day plotting and scheming against each other, if he wanted to. He did not need a sword to accomplish that. No, he needed to figure out how to make Alazar understand that his fighting lessons were pointless. Alazar was right about one thing though; a Predznak should not shed tears for anyone or anything.

  Balthazar hung his head and cursed this existence. Why had he decided to leave Heaven? Why had he believed that he could become a Predznak? Alazar and Aeries would never accept him as an equal.

  Solren, Tristan, Haydn, Rayan, and Elrick came around the corner of their hut and shook their heads when they saw Balthazar bleeding on the ground.

  Rayan’s shoulders slumped. “I hate watching Aeries harm Balthazar. I spend more time sewing Balthazar up only to repair new holes the following day. Do you think we can sneak away before Alazar sees us?” the Angel of Agony whispered to Solren, the Angel of Illness.

  “Good, you are back. What is the situation with the locals?” Alazar asked, turning his attention to the other Predznak.

  Tristan, Rayan, and Solren groaned when Alazar spotted them. They sat down along the mud wall waiting for their next assignment while Elrick, the Angel of Hunger, stepped forward.

  “I have good news, Alazar. I have tempted Nuesh, the leader from the north, but he resisted my temptation. I was surprised because he seemed eager to conquer the neighboring tribes. I thought he wanted to build up his empire to secure his safety and obtain more resources, but he refused me. It is a good sign. He is the second leader to back down from my temptation. With him and Kizurra refusing to engage each other in battle, there will be less bloodshed. I am optimistic for continued peace. We may be able to move on from this territory soon,” Elrick said brightly.

  Alazar crossed his arms and thought about Elrick’s report. With the tribes willing to live in harmony together, there would be little reason to tempt the mortals under their rule. The leaders of the tribes should be able to keep their subjects in line and prevent them from starting a war. With peace and prosperity on the horizon, there would be less chance for the mortals to be indifferent toward Heaven, or angry enough to choose evil. The Predznak could move on to a more hospitable location, far away from the coarse sand and beastly temperatures. It was rumored that Sumer was nearly as hot as Hell, which he hoped never to confirm in person. Hell was the last place he wanted to visit, though Sumer would be last on his list of locations for tempting the mortals.

  Balthazar pushed himself to his feet, thankful for the break in his training. He hoped to slip away and lie down on his mat to rest, until he saw Sacha, the Angel of Deception, appear in the distance approaching from the direction of the closest tribe. He knew Sacha would do something to anger
Alazar. Alazar would in turn take his frustration out on him and order Aeries to pound him into the dirt again.

  Balthazar watched Sacha stride up to Alazar and braced himself for the inevitable exchange of words that would cause Alazar and Sacha to choke each other. It did not bode well that Sacha looked smug, almost gleeful, which meant that he had stirred up some kind of trouble.

  Alazar turned to Sacha and glared at the angel. “Do I want to know why you look so happy?”

  Sacha walked past him, bumping his shoulder into Alazar’s, and kept walking until he rested against the wall of the hut next to Solren. “I just saved us a lot of time and effort,” he said smoothly. “You should be thanking me, Alazar.”

  Alazar let out a long breath and tried to remain calm. “What did you do? What lies have you told now? I’m sure whatever it is will result in some kind of chaos.”

  Balthazar watched Sacha shrug, but became worried when Zacharael slowly approached from the same direction Sacha had come from. Zacharael did not typically get along with Sacha, so he wondered what they had been doing together.

  Alazar grabbed Zacharael by the shawl when he entered the practice circle. “Where were you?”

  Zacharael hesitated, but didn’t answer. Instead, he glared at Sacha.

  Balthazar took another step back and crouched down to pick up his borrowed sword. It looked like he would undoubtedly go another round with Aeries, or maybe even Alazar himself.

  Sacha pretended to brush sand off his arms. “While the Nuesh and Kizurra did not hunger to fight each other to secure their homes, they did desire to bring glory to their people by defeating the barbarians residing so close to their borders. Enkara’s tribe is more than willing to meet them on the battlefields to secure the safety of their people. Zacharael’s temptation was stronger than Elrick’s and now war is imminent. All I had to do was spread enough rumors to cause dissension among the masses until they could practically taste the blood of their new enemies on their tongues.”