Rise of Silver & Steam (Alliance of Silver and Steam Book 0) Read online

  Rise of Silver & Steam

  Alliance of Silver & Steam Origins

  Lexi Ostrow

  Colliding Worlds Press

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Published by

  Colliding Worlds Press

  The right of Lexi Ostrow to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover art by: Dreams2Media

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons,

  living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by CLS Editing

  Copyright © 2015 Colliding Worlds Press All rights reserved.

  Foreword

  Dear Reader,

  It is important to notate that, in actual history, Big Ben was a construct on paper in the early 1830s. Construction did not begin until May 31, 1859. For the purposes of this series, history has been altered in traditional steampunk fashion, and also by creating Big Ben nearly thirty years prior. I hope you'll enjoy such an alternate timeline, and for more information on the amazing Big Ben in history, click here.

  xoxo,

  Lexi

  One

  1627

  Demetrious’ lips pressed firmly against hers. Seraphina’s whole body heated, despite the battle that was raging around them. A blood link could do that to a Pure Angel, but so could love. What they shared was both. When he pulled back, the rainy London weather hit her lips, and she missed his warmth immediately.

  “Be safe,” he whispered in her ear before turning to face the others. “The mission is the same. Protect the humans. They have no idea what has started this row. In and out. No humans hurt.”

  She watched as he turned on his final word, and moved silently into the tavern with three other Pure Angels. Seraphina focused on him and felt him through their blood link. She could feel it as he burst through the wooden door, as if she had splintered the wood herself. Closing her eyes, she gave a small nod and wished the quartet luck. Protecting humans was rarely dangerous with their strength, but she hated being separated from him.

  “You heard the commander. We know our orders, and the Incubus demons will be the hardest. Do not draw blood until you see their eyes go black or feel their persuasion. However, the Apostos demons that are in the area will be more dangerous. Kill them before they blind you,” Layel, Demetrious’ second, said with as much authority as Demetrious’ voice had held moments before.

  Layel’s wings were perhaps the whitest she had even seen, and as they shimmered in the rain, she couldn’t help but wonder what the humans would think if they ever saw them. Would they know of the beauty and serenity held within? There were no traces of darkness within Layel, and most Pure Angels desired him, humans likely would as well. He was untouchable, though. She’d never seen him look at any Angel, male or female. He was all battle, all protection.

  Walking slowly around the corner, there was no sign of the inky-dark Apostos Demons. They were demons of darkness, able to blind prey with their inner light, and then feast on them, body and soul.

  She shuddered as she felt Demetrious kill an Incubus through their link. It was time for their portion of the sect to protect the streets. She grinned at his triumph as if it were her own. It was, in a sense. Any time a battle group protected humans, it was a victory, no matter who had done the work.

  She blinked and realized that Muriel and Layel were already walking around the side of the tavern. Her hand slipped easily around the angelic metal blade, and she locked eyes with the two Angels that were to hunt with her.

  They didn’t get to say anything.

  Without warning, six Apostos were in their path. One’s eyes began to open, and she saw a spear sink into its chest. Layel’s spear. The warrior rarely used daggers or his physic gifts, and to an extent, she was amazed at his skill in battle where the rest relied on their demon talents. He was a champion with his spear and blades, though.

  Seraphina slammed her dagger into the Apostos demon’s chest. Light flared out of its eyes, and all traces of life slipped away. The wind whipped her hair in her eyes, and she fluttered her wings to pull the long red strands away.

  “Seraphina!”

  Layel growled from behind her, and she opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized they’d returned while she fought. Blood trailed over his chin, and Muriel had plenty matting her fair hair. She looked down at her own hands and saw the dark blood of her own kill, and her lips curved into a wicked grin—both she and Demetrious were succeeding.

  “There will be time for your celebrations later. This night will end soon, and we cannot be caught in daylight where human eyes will, without a doubt, see our wings.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and turned to throw a dagger into the chest of an Incubus Demon rounding the corner on their group. “Layel, it is a battle, it is us protecting our charges. Surely, even you can find some joy in triumphs.”

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a shrill scream followed them. Seraphina whipped her head to the left and stood horrified as an Apostos Demon sucked the soul from Samuel’s body. Like a bolt, she lunged and slammed her dagger between the creature’s shoulder blades. Her eyes slammed closed to avoid the blinding white light as the demon died. When she opened them, Samuel was still.

  “Leave him. There is no time,” Muriel’s voice screamed through the rain and wind.

  Blinking away her rage, Seraphina dropped her dagger. Eyes landing on an Incubus Demon, she inhaled deeply, daring its toxic scent to try to muddle her mind. Twisting her wrist, she curled her finger in the air, and then flicked her hand. The Incubus Demon lifted and connected with the tavern wall. He growled and attempted to stand, but Seraphina was faster, angrier. Her nails sunk into the demon’s chest, sending blood trickling over her hand in a stream, and the monster’s howl into the night. She shuddered as her nails squished into the Incubus’s heart, and the creature stopped fighting altogether.

  Screams were breaking through the stormy night. Human screams.

  Seraphina tugged her hand out of the Incubus Demon and tried to ignore the suctioning sensation as it freed from the dead demon’s chest. All around them, humans had piled out of the eatery. Many looked too drunk to understand, a few stood in awe, but the majority shouted obscenities and raced towards them.

  “Kill them!”

  “Angels aren’t real!“

  “Destroy the evil!”

  The humans’ shouts, sadly, were not swallowed by the dreary weather, and Seraphina sighed as she turned
and sent an Apostos Demon backwards with a kick to its midsection. She heard a gurgled cry and saw Muriel behead the creature from the corner of her eye. Another cry tore from the humans gathered, despite them having seen that what was murdered was not human or even animal. Their anger was tangible, shimmering in the air around her.

  Humans were supposed to fall into an obedient trance around all Angels. It would seem that when something, such as rain impeded their vision, they were able to maintain their wits. How has this never occurred before? Seraphina thought as she rolled the blade in her hands, not knowing what steps to take.

  “No one is to harm anyone.” Demetrious’ dark form passed through the hole in the building. His wings were unfurled, a glorious light, so different from the Apostos, seemed to radiate off of them. “We have come to help. You have had true evil amongst you this eve. We—”

  Demetrious did not get to finish. A human had lunged forwards and sunk a broken ale bottle deep into her love’s abdomen. She watched, horrified, as her lover doubled over in pain, blood beginning to expel from the wound. All at once, chaos erupted. Two more humans stepped forwards, and she saw them drive their knives into Demetrious, into his stomach and chest.

  Her body pitched forwards to the ground as the link they shared flared with Demetrious’ injuries. Convulsions wracked through her body, and she hadn’t realized she’d fallen to the road until her head slammed forcefully into it. As quickly as the assault had started, it stopped.

  Pain, terror and anger exploded forth into the dirt as comprehension dawned on Seraphina. Her fangs extended, and her eyes would have been a deadly black if she’d been able to see herself in a looking glass.

  Dead.

  Demetrious is dead. The thought was the final thing she comprehended. Suffering unlike anything she had ever felt tore through her body, like shears through cloth, and she struggled to push herself up. A severed blood link was oft debilitating, and she could feel her body trembling, could feel the haze of darkness settling over her as her mind and body tried to cope with the loss.

  “Not just yet,” her voice was scratchy and almost inaudible. She preferred it that way. It meant the humans had no idea what was coming for them. “I am done protecting you!” she screamed into the rain and wind, so loudly her throat went raw.

  Then she attacked.

  Layel let out the breath he’d been holding. His head spun from the chaos and terror around them. Slowly, his eyes scanned the dirt path and took in the blood, death and horror they had all created. That Seraphina had almost single-handedly created. There was no way to clean up what had been done though, not until she had been seen too.

  The rain had stopped. The battle had ended. Yet, the problem had just begun.

  “Hold her down! Be careful not to harm her,” he shouted at the Angel closest to him, Muriel.

  Without a word, the blonde took a step closer to the curled form lying in a pool of ichor. Layel watched as Muriel slowly reached her fingers towards Seraphina’s back and rested them betwixt her shoulders.

  Seraphina didn’t move. Layel took a step closer to the two female Angels. Seraphina could be in a state of shock. Layel had never been blood bonded and hadn’t felt a stirring of anything moments ago as he’d been otherwise engaged with an Incubus, but her agonized cry of Demetrious’ name made it simple to deduce what had occurred. Their leader, Seraphina’s lover, had either been dealt a blow or was dead. They had all shared a tasting of each other’s blood, to link them for strength, but it would not have been enough to alert them all to a lost life. It would have, however, been overwhelming for Seraphina.

  He’d ignored the Incubus he’d been battling at the time Seraphina had made the sound and had been stabbed himself before Muriel had killed the creature. His ichor was running dangerously into the dirt, but he couldn’t force himself to care.

  Layel had been too late, too slow, to stop Seraphina. He wasn’t even sure he’d wanted too as he’d comprehended how foolish the humans had been. However, with her manslaughter done, with the damage done, he wished he’d forced himself to intervene. The bodies on the ground would forever mark Seraphina as near Fallen, but they would mark his soul as well. She had done so with just cause, and he would not fall because of that.

  “Do not place your hands on me,” Seraphina’s voice was quiet as she spoke into the bloodied ground.

  “Seraphina, please rise. We are concerned.” Layel tried to keep his voice as level as possible, but his own emotions ran wild with the knowledge of how many humans had just been slaughtered.

  “I said do not place your hands on me!” Seraphina snarled and whipped her head back to look at them, causing Muriel to step backwards.

  There was a craze in her eyes. One Layel had never seen the likes of before, though it was akin to the look of a human or demon under a blood craze. Her lids were opened so wide, he could imagine how badly the blowing wind was hurting her. Yet, tears did not fall, and she did not flinch. Her eyes remained as they were, and Layel shuddered. Back and forth her eyes twitched, side-to-side in such a quick motion, Layel found himself unnerved by the action. Seraphina's upper lip was tugged back. Her fangs still showed, and Layel could see the blood splatters from the humans she had just murdered against her face and her teeth.

  Ignoring her warning, he reached towards her once more. Pain raced through his hand as her fangs pierced the flesh, dead in the center of his palm. His own eyes flashed a deadly black, showing the demon he truly was. Without thought, he struck her cheek. He was far stronger than her on any day, but she was crippled by grief and madness, and his blow sent Seraphina tumbling backwards. She tipped arse over tit and lay sprawled on her back, staring up at the sky.

  She made no sound or attempt to pick herself up. Layel sucked in a deep breath through his nose and moved to bend down beside her. Their eyes locked, and in hers, he saw pain and madness. A madness he feared would consume her if he did not act. Being blood bonded oft did not go well for both parties, and in that moment, he knew that Demetrious was truly gone and Seraphina was standing on a cliff’s edge— staring into the abyss.

  Ichor was the only solution.

  Layel had never partaken in a blood bond, he’d never wanted too. However, if Seraphina were not immediately linked to someone else, they would lose her to death, or worse, to Hell. Without thinking, he shifted his weight and dropped to the ground beside Seraphina. His fingers trailed over her chin in a manner that might have been deemed sensual had they been lovers. However, it had merely been concern.

  “Seraphina, you need to be rebound. The strongest of Pure Angels have fallen at the loss of a bonded partner passing. Your loyalty and tie to Demetrious were strong. You must do this to survive.” He scoured his blade over his inner right wrist and offered her his blood. “Take it. I will not allow any more to be lost. Leadership falls to me, and I will not let our brethren down.”

  Blackness seeped into Seraphina’s eyes at his words, and a deep hiss pushed past her lips. “You are nothing, Layel. You are a second-class leader who has no right taking his place. That is why you never did.” Her eyes flashed back to their icy blue-grey. “He is not gone. His soul can be found, can be brought back.”

  The hope in her voice was like a dagger slicing through Layel’s body. What she spoke of was a truth, but it was also an impossibility. “Seraphina, take my blood. You are not in your right mind. What you speak of is blaspheme.”

  She reared back, jerking away so quickly her foot jerked up and slammed into Layel’s outstretched wrist. She looked like a scared babe scuttling away from trouble. Abruptly, she rose to her feet, and her eyes finally looked at the damage around them, at her destruction.

  Layel moved towards her, as if to catch her when what she had done made her tremble, but it did not happen. Her lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t ignore the puff of breath on the cold night’s air. Violently, she shook her head and chewed her lower lip, her fangs no longer showing, just a normal set of teeth.

  “I can fix
this. All of this. I cannot amend for what I have done to these humans, but I can, and I will bring our leader back. I will bring my love back.”

  Her glorious wings opened in a flash, knocking Layel backwards onto his backside. Seraphina locked her eyes on his and gave a single nod. Realization burned brightly in Layel’s mind. He tried to dart forwards, to grab hold of her in some way, but she was too quick. With a strong flap of her wings, she bolted upwards into the pitch black night. A fear so strong he could taste the bitterness of it filled Layel’s entire being.

  Two

  Shivers ran like little bugs over her entire body. Everything was so cold. Bolting upright, Seraphina retched onto the ground beside her. Choking, she spat out the remnants and wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. Trembling, she forced herself to sit upright and tucked her legs into her chest, barely noticing as her wings scraped along the wall behind her. Her hands wrapped around her body, and she focused on healing energy, praying the warm, white light could undo what the dream had done.

  “Nightmare Demon,” Seraphina spat the word, but even as she looked around, she knew there was no demon tapping into her fears.

  Demetrious was dead. He’d failed three days prior in order to save himself in a battle that their sect had fought in to save humans.

  “And then humans betrayed us,” she snarled as she sat up, unsure if it was from the rush of pain or the bitterness of the memory.

  Nothing could make the images in her mind cease. Over and over, as if by magic, the memory of seeing and feeling Demetrious die played in her head. She’d flown far from Layel and the battle sect, not even wanting to deal with Samuel’s death. She’d lost control and had killed no less than a dozen humans. She couldn’t remember the way taking their lives had felt, just the terrified way Layel had looked at her, as if she were a Fallen Angel.