By: Heather Killough-Walden

The Lost Angels

Book Five: Samael


Long ago, the Old Man gathered together his four favored archangels, Michael, Gabriel, Uriel and Azrael. He pointed to four stars in the sky that shined brighter than the others. He told the archangels that he wished to reward them for their loyalty and had created for them soul mates. Four perfect female beings – archesses.

However, before the archangels could claim their mates, the four archesses were lost to them and scattered to the wind, beyond their realm and reach. The archangels made the choice to leave their world, journey to Earth, and seek out their mates.

For thousands of years, the archangels have searched. But they have not searched alone. For they are not the only entities to leave their realm and come to Earth to hunt for their archesses. They were followed by another….


Kevin paused for just a moment to read the “Cash Only” and “Restroom is for customers only” signs on the glass door of 4357 N Western Avenue in Chicago. It was just after 3 a.m., and of course the diner was open. Apparently there was a phone inside, and a massive sign on one entire wall of the establishment highly recommended ham on the bone.

But that wasn’t what Kevin was after.

His green eyed gaze slid from the signs to the glass itself, and his vision adjusted. There were two couples inside and a group of five kids, teenagers. The couples had that traveling look about them, worn from the road, red-eyed and frizzy-haired. They were clean but for that inside-of-the-car residue that sticks in the pores and gums up the joints and smells like exhaustion.

The kids, on the other hand….

Kevin lowered his head. His gaze sharpened, his green eyes shifting into yellow, then orange and finally red. He peered hard – and listened. Three boys, two girls. They weren’t speaking to one another, but their bodies told a story without words. Bouncing legs, hands that combed through sweaty hair, eyes that darted to one another, then out the windows, and throats that worked nervously were side-bars and footnotes to the truly telling side-effect of their night. Their hearts were beating with a terrible restlessness, hard and painful and full of desperate life that was begging to hang on but was overworked.

Kevin would guess meth, from the smell of it. There was some cocaine in there somewhere too, and a shit load of hard liquor. But it didn’t matter. None of it would have any effect on him.

All he wanted – all he needed – was the beating heart. The fact that it was beating for all it was worth, as if there were no tomorrow, was even better.

Kevin glanced over his shoulder at the shadows moving in the street behind him. Lightning sizzled across the sky overhead. Chicago was in turmoil and had been since around the time Michael and his slut had done the deed. But it wasn’t the Culmination.

Not just yet. In fact, the big “C” was what he and the others were supposed to prevent from happening. By killing the last of the archesses. Whoever she was.

Later. Right now, Kevin was hungry, and he could sense his brothers were too. They moved closer to the diner behind him, creeping from their places in the darkness as if unsure. They were undergoing epiphanies, the lot of them. And they were suddenly as drawn to this edible pain relief as he was.

As he’d always done, he led the way, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

It was relatively quiet inside; the sounds of traffic and thunder were muted from behind the glass. But the quiet didn’t last long, as the other Adarians piled in slowly one after the other behind Abraxos. Little by little, the conversation within the diner stopped. All eyes were on the newcomers now.

Kevin didn’t wonder why. What a scene they must have made.

There was a time, what felt like an eternity ago, that Kevin had gone by another name. He’d sported it proudly, as proudly as his wings. He’d been handsome then, and he’d known it, and those who’d followed him in what would eventually become an uprising in the angel realm, were just as beautiful. Angels always were. And the more powerful they were, the more glorious that beauty.

Outwardly, their appearances were little different now. They were minus their wings, and their skin was a tad more pale. Perhaps their eyes burned with fire rather than light; their expressions held a wealth of emotion, and their gazes were trapped in memory. Every single one of them had known murder from both sides of the coin. Most of them knew betrayal, and that was worse.

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