Page 12 of Wicked Savior
Wailing and cursing filled the air. Humans bolted to mountains and ships, but it was futile. The few supernaturals here, including the Nephilim, scrambled to find portals and bolt holes to other worlds.
Not many humans were brave enough to follow. Most of them stayed, believing the rain would stop. I knew better.
Before the creation of everything, the Earth was covered in water. I watched the land rise and waters recede. I watched the creation of light and life. I marveled at the wonder of it.
Its destruction broke something inside me. I watched the same waters rise and cover every bit of the Earth, extinguishing the lives of everyone I knew. Good and bad. Humans and Nephilim dead. Everyone but Noah, his family, and a few animals. Anger tore through me, ripping me apart at the devastation and the loss of those souls.
The Earth fell silent.
My tears ran with the rain the day I lost all hope of returning to grace. The desire to love and devote myself was gone, washed away with the sins of the world.
With nowhere to go, I came here to find a new life.
Underworld offered no refuge. An archangel in Hell is already a target, but I was Satan’s killer. The angel they’d chosen to replace the Devil. With his death, they were stuck with a vicious ruler who cared little for his people. They instantly declared me “public enemy number one.”
And with that title, the warrior in me returned with a roar. A savage, take-no-prisoners soldier, I relished every opponent who died by my hand. The feelings of weakness and uselessness I experienced while walking the Earth blew away like cobwebs caught by a stiff wind. The only thing I knew was pain and death. It was glorious.
And it paid off. Annihilating my enemies gave me status, wealth, and the comforts I’d been denied since I was cast out. But more than anything, I gained power.
When the Devil asked for my fealty, I spit in his face. I would never vow to uphold the tenets of evil, nor would I give my vow to those who did. It was a line I refused to cross. We battled in a legendary fight to the death. It took 665 days to vanquish my opponent. The next day, I crowned myself ruler of the Underworld.
Many thought they could take me. They were wrong. The crown clenched in my fist would never go to someone else. This world was mine.
The Underworld Army swore fealty to me, but at best, it was reluctantly upheld. Until Vargas, a respected general, stood in front of his men and loudly declared his loyalty. After him, others followed. Once I had followers, my power grew exponentially.
When I held a majority of the people’s favor, I turned from fighting to ruling. Underworld was a mess. Internal squabbling and civil unrest plagued the kingdom. The different species were divided, all with separate rulers and kingdoms of their own, and I realized the only way we were going to collectively become powerful was by uniting into one kingdom. Mine.
I chuckle. Easier said than done. It took over a thousand years for us to conquer our enemies, both internal and external, and find peace. And another thousand to build us into the powerhouse we are today. Underworld. The one word guaranteed to make our enemies quake in fear.
Brutal, yet organized. Underworld operates on the tenets of free will, not as a proponent of evil or champion for the greater good, and for the most part, it thrives.
I grimace at the black leathery hides on the floor. But maybe it’s time to make a few changes.
ChapterSeven
LUCIFER
The History of the Druids is resoundingly boring and astonishingly inaccurate. The leather tome in my hand offers little evidence of their power or magic. Instead, it’s entirely focused on the high rank they held in society as scholars and learned men and their abilities to commune with nature or mediate between humans and gods.
I snort. As if the gods listen to humans.
It also says the Druids didn’t exist before the second century BCE, but I knew of them long before that time. I toss it in the trash and reach for another book.
Vargas shimmers into sight, his dark eyes shining with glee.
Leaning back, I stretch my shoulders, easing cramped muscles. My mouth twitches. “Had a bit of fun, did you?”
“Highlight of my current non-existence,” he jokes. “None of the angels could see me, but a few of the old ones could sense something sentient was nearby. If I stepped close, they would move away or whisper so low I couldn’t hear them.”
Sounds like a party. “How many showed up?”
“A couple platoons were stationed around the alley, and roughly twenty-five high-ranking angels came and went during the investigation,” he informs me. “It’s a good thing I’m in this current state. Nobody else would have been able to get near them.” Satisfaction and pride shine in his eyes.
A whistle escapes me. Almost a hundred angels outside of heaven congregating in one place? “It’s been a while since we’ve seen a force that big on Earth, but Balith was well respected and a general. Did they determine his cause of death?”
Vargas scowls. “No. There isn’t a mark on him. Nothing. It’s as if he lay down and died like a dog. They have a lot of theories, similar to the ones we discussed, but nothing concrete.” He paces back and forth. “Frankly, the idea of something that powerful running around killing immortals sets me on edge. Maybe I should have Ishkova run the men through some training exercises.”
Before I can reply, he stops in front of my desk. “You said Balith was following someone? A woman?”
