Grey

Prologue

"I know something's changed. I've heard the rumors," the platinum-haired Angel seethed as he paced around his dark-skinned brother. They both had white wings, or- at least they used to before the dark-skinned Angel had his ripped off. They sat, broken and tattered, a few feet away from him. Now, all that remained were bloody stumps above his shoulder blades and a growing dark pool on the boulders beneath him. He was bound with dark chains to a large lump of granite that stuck up like a thumb from the otherwise flat mountain top.

"I'll never tell you," the dark-skinned Angel spat furiously, burning tears streaming down his beautiful, agonized face. The platinum Angel let out a low chuckle as if he knew that wasn't the case.

"Now, now, Riel. Is that any way to speak to an Archangel?" came the platinum Angel's smooth voice, melodic like a lullaby.

"You're no Archangel. Not anymore," Riel shook his head. The platinum Angel merely grinned, his snakelike emerald eyes glimmering with the challenge.

"One does not simply cease being an Archangel," the Angel purred. "Tell me what's changed, why there are murmurs of a new player in the Reckoning," he pushed.

"I'd say go to hell, but-," Riel cackled dryly.

The next moment, a gurgling howl erupted from Riel's gaping lips as the platinum Angel dragged a hot blade down his arm. Dark blood collected at Riel's fingertips and slowly dripped to the ground, staining the earth.

"You're wasting my time, Riel," the Archangel grumbled lazily as if losing interest. His pristine white wings folded neatly behind his back, a taunting image to the Angel who'd had his severed.

"You're going to kill me regardless," Riel choked out, droplets of blood spattering with every labored cough. It was no easy feat to kill an Angel, but an Archangel could make short work of it if he so desired.

"If you tell me, then perhaps I won't. Perhaps I'll let you escape, go and tell our Mother what horrors I've done to you. Maybe she'll give you your wings back. You know I enjoy a challenge," the platinum Angel gave a serpentine grin.

Riel was naturally a trusting individual, as all Angels were. Unfortunately for him, this particular Archangel knew all of their weaknesses and how to manipulate them. That was, after all, his defining trait.

"She was born under an August moon. Her soul is the strongest to be created in millennia. She will die before her 20th birthday, and her soul will be up for grabs. Jordan Greene," Riel relented, his voice exasperated and full of pain.

The Archangel recognized that name. He had hired a mercenary to recruit her soul not last week, as he usually did with every unPledged soul that passed. However, this one was different. This one, he couldn't trust the mercenary to do alone.

That's when a brilliant idea formed in his devious mind.

"Thank you," the platinum Angel gave Riel a friendly smile and watched the flicker of hope glow in his eyes. Then, with a quick movement, watched the flicker grow cold when he removed Riel's head from his shoulders. Blood and sinewy muscle spattered across the mountaintop, spraying his pristine wings and his white tuxedo with droplets of dark red. Shame, he thought. He'd just had this suit dry cleaned.

He knew now what he had to do. He could not lose this soul. The mercenary had been failing him as of late, regardless of how much he'd paid him. Luckily, that mercenary had zero ideas what his employer looked like. Given that Riel was a fairly new Angel that had been Created after his mercenary's fall from Heaven, it could be assumed that they had never crossed paths either. That had presented the Archangel with an opportunity. He could masquerade under Riel's identity, playing the Heavenly Angel, and try to gain Jordan's trust as well as keep an eye on his mercenary. He could knock out two birds with one stone. If his mercenary didn't succeed in gaining her soul's Pledge, then surely he could.