This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 by Levana Hyll
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Levana Hyll
ISBN: 978-1453727959
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
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Prologue
Angelos City, Angelorian continent, Seraphia; 3432:
Kabiel gazed into his vid-crystal, recording the beauty of Seraphia's sun as its reflection dissolved into the shimmering sea. Unable to resist the call of the breeze and open sky, he opened his wings and ascended into the pink and lavender streaked heavens.
He focused his vid-crystal on the pearl-grey castle below, surrounded by deep green lawns, pewter fountains, and ancient trees. The holy city of Angelos was his home and home to over ten thousand reapers, like himself. Beyond the fortress-like wall encircling the holy summit, lay Angeloria, a sprawling metropolis built along the cliff walls descending from the mountain top. The setting sun cast a rose glow on the stark white buildings as the white-winged citizens bustled about in their daily routines.
Chanting drew his attention and he refocused the crystal orb on the moving mass beyond the wall.
"Ah, yes," he sighed, looking at the thousands of alien beings congregated there. "There they are...as far as the eye can see...calling to their god." He'd almost forgotten it was off-world visitors' day. "You'd think by now they'd grow tired of chanting his name."
He panned up, capturing the return of the remaining black-winged holy warriors. They descended from the sky, alighting within the barricaded area just before the gates of Angelos. Were it not for the barrier, the flood of intergalactic beings would stampede right onto sacred ground.
Pushing back errant wisps of breeze-tousled dark hair from his face, he shook his head. "They stand there all day long, once every moon cycle, calling him...and what does that son-of-a-bat do?" Kabiel's black wings hummed, whisking him to the balcony he'd been perched on moments before. Beyond open balcony doors, he focused his vid-crystal on a young holy warrior bathing in an opulent gold tub. "He snubs them like the conceited ass he is," he concluded loudly so the other warrior could hear him.
Davariel ignored him, like usual, as he raised a large sponge over his head and squeezed, letting the water rinse the perfumed soap from his long, blond hair. He kept his eyes closed and opened his lips to breathe while the water and suds licked down his glistening body. The golden sunset made the droplets of water shimmer like thousands of diamonds upon his open jet-black wings.
Kabiel shook his head, realizing he was staring, again. Wouldn't do for Dava to catch him drooling over him like one of his angel-struck followers.
"Look at that pretty girl indulging in her bath," Kabiel teased to break the obvious silence.
Davariel's grin stretched across his angelic face, his eyes blinking open. Tucking his wings behind his back, he spread his thighs and raised his hips. "Come here" he purred, "let me show you how much of a girl I am."
Kabiel snorted, trying to hide his smile. "Have you no shame, reaper? I'm recording this for my dear sweet mother."
"Oh, well . . ." Davariel laughed, rising from the water, "in that case, let's give her something beautiful to visualize when she mounts your father." He gripped his erection and stroked in a lazy rhythm, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Kabiel burst out laughing when he tweaked one of his nipples with his free hand and wiggled his tongue with all the perversion he could muster.
"Brat."
"Me?" Davariel made a show out of looking offended. "She's the one always trying to get her hands into my soctanal," he replied, mentioning the traditional fledgling reaper's black satin loincloth.
Kabiel gave him a wry grin, but knew he was telling the truth. His mother was obsessed with his reaper brother. It was the reason why Kabiel never brought her around anymore, preferring to go home to visit instead, and even that wasn't often. He found it annoying to see her flushed, fanning herself with her pretty, white wings as she asked about dear sweet Dava. Meanwhile, his father, seated right next to her, would scowl like a thundercloud at both of them. Still....
"We're supposed to be angels." Kabiel wiggled his wings for emphasis.
Davariel rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Death angels, Kabi." He lowered himself back into the warm water. "We kill demons and devils. Nothing angelic in killing."
For a moment, he slipped beneath the water, but resurfaced, spreading his wings wide, and shaking them. Droplets of water rained everywhere.
Kabiel, shielded himself and his vid-crystal from the deluge with his own wings. "That's what we reapers are born and bred to do," he pointed out from beneath his feathers.
******
The sound of the door squeaking open drew their attention. Without looking, Davariel already knew it was the high priest, Gadriel. The older reaper frequently came to him when he bathed. It seemed today would be no different from usual.