Mark of Orion Read online

  Copyright © 2019 Sheila Richardson

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the author or publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. While this book is based on Christian principles, it is not, nor claims to be a book of theology, commentary, or a biblical reference guide.

  S. L. Richardson

  www.slrichardson.com

  Available in these formats:

  ISBN: 978-1-7340644-0-7 (eBook)

  ISBN: 978-1-7340644-1-4 (Paperback)

  Cover Design: Natalie Narbonne at Original Book Cover Design - www.originalbookcoverdesign.com

  Book Formatting: Haunted Unicorn Publishing

  Editing: Alexandra Ott

  Published by Flasheila Press | Friendswood, Texas

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Please Write A Review/Don’t Miss Out!

  Light of Orion - Coming Soon!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  For my family, who’s undying love and support gave me the courage to write this book

  For our Lord, who makes all things possible

  Prologue

  Dark Prince

  Humans...

  They made killing easy.

  Delightful.

  So absorbed with themselves, they never looked into the darkened corners, sure their childhood monsters weren’t lurking, eager for their next victim.

  But they were.

  He and his accomplices blended into the shadows across the street from the church. His fingers tapped a wicked metal blade not of this world resting on his hip. Anticipation hummed through him, hungry for his sinister plan's fruition.

  The nun emerged from the church. Its brick front and looming tower with large wooden double doors dwarfed her. The somber habit hid her body, her hair under the black veil. But the unshapely garment couldn't conceal her ancient cursed lineage from his infernal senses.

  The moonless night was crisp. Leaves swirled on a soft breeze down the deserted street, carrying her scent where he lay in wait. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  So fresh.

  So naïve.

  So pure.

  As soon as he opened them, his seething rage clouded his vision. His hate for the nun was as pure as her vocation. She represented everything he despised, yet she possessed what he desperately needed... her soul.

  The nun took a few steps but paused. She twisted, her eyes scanning the shadowy street behind her. She peered in his direction as if she sensed something hidden in the shadows. He pressed deeper into the blackness. Hunting the prey was as delicious as catching it. He would stretch this cat-and-mouse game out longer. Feeding off her fear excited him, but time didn't warrant such a decadent luxury.

  The nun hurried down the sidewalk, risking a hasty glance over her shoulder. She headed for the lone car in the vacated parking lot, keys jingling in her grip. He sneered, propelling himself out of the shadows.

  It was deathly quiet as he started across the street. Just how he liked it. His three accomplices materialized out of the shadows and followed him. His black blood pounded, intoxicated by the promise of her dormant ancient soul.

  Her car's remote chirped, piercing the still night. She reached for the handle but stiffened. She spun, and her face paled. A sharp gasp escaped when she saw what bore down upon her. She scanned the lot, glancing back at the church, but the icy mask of terror froze on her face. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

  She pressed backward against the car door as they surrounded her. Her chest heaved as her eyes scoured his high forehead, sharp nose, and chiseled jaw. They darted over his black leather clothing and widened when they found his sword dangling from his hip. The scar across his left cheek lifted as he leered at her. Recognition tightened her features while her lips worked in silent movement. He couldn't detect her mumblings, but he didn't care.

  His deep voice spoke, void of emotion. "Crying out for God? Begging Him to save you? You'll understand soon. He never comes."

  She's mine tonight... including her soul.

  But the murmurings continued. Her doe brown eyes gaped at him, yet something else flared within.

  Peace.

  His hot hand slapped her face, snapping her head back. Now she turned and faced him with horror and pain. Her shaking hand covered her bright red cheek.

  That's more like it.

  He pressed closer, suppressing the urge to strike again.

  "Anne, do you know who I am?"

  Her throat convulsed as her parted lips trembled.

  "Yes. Mother Superior warned me of you. You're a Prince from Hell." Her hand trailed down her cheek and smeared the blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. "You can kill me, but I'm not afraid." Her other hand clasped the wooden crucifix, with a silver metal figure of Jesus on it, dangling from her neck by a long leather cord. "My heavenly Father awaits me."

  A low rumbling started in his chest as a hideous smile stretched across his white marble-like face. The three Fallen behind him joined in with their cackles of laughter. The Prince shook his head, snickering at her bold statement.

  "So stupid in your blind faith."

  He seized the fist clutching her crucifix, engulfing it. He squeezed, pressing the crucifix into her delicate palm. She whimpered as blood trickled down her wrist.

  "Let's play a game. You know who I am, but do you know who you are... what's entombed within you?"

  Confusion and desperation alternated on her face. No recognition in her eyes this time, only useless tears. The Prince was correct. Only he knew the aged secret.

  Prying her fingers open, he tore the bloody crucifix from her maimed hand and yanked. He sneered as he flung the object of his repulsion to the ground.

  "Those wretched nuns never told you, did they? Cold jealousy hidden under all their righteousness sealed their withered lips. Even better."

  "God will still forgive you. It's never too late−" she stammered between her shallow breaths.

  His maniacal laughter echoed through the night air. "I have no int
erest in your God's forgiveness. He doesn't frighten me." He lifted his brow as he scanned the starless night. "Looks like He hasn't heard your sobs. It's too late, anyway."

  A bright, hot light exploded between them. Another flash threw him from the nun. Anne gazed at the brilliant light. An exuberant smile spread across her awed face.

  A magnificent creature glowed within the light. The angel stood tall in her pure white armor, except for a red-hilted sword strapped to the red belt around her hips. Her large, luminous white wings extended behind her, each feather catching the breeze. Long silver hair enveloped her like an aura, and her crimson eyes sparkled. The angel drew her blade and stood ready for battle.

  "So, your mighty protector arrives. A little late, aren't you?" The Prince glared at her in open mockery. "Did we catch you lounging in the clouds adoring your Maker?"

  "What brings you out of your fire pit, Prince? You never leave your hovel. You always send your Fallen to do your dirty work." She cocked her head. "Something must have changed. Need some fresh air?" She lifted her brow, matching his mockery.

  The Prince waved his hand, dismissing her.

  "This air is too cool for my taste. But, yes, there's been a significant change... my future."

  At once, the three Fallens' black wings swept out from behind them, sending ash and smoke into the air, covering their quick movements. The angel raised her weapon while her other hand sought the nun. But she was too late. The nun raced toward the protection of the church. Two Fallen gave chase; their red pupils, encased in obsidian eyes, flared with hate as their hyena-like cackles filled the air.

  "You can't fight us all." He laid his black-veined hand on the sword's hilt.

  The remaining Fallen lunged at the angel from her right. She swung her sword with both hands, striking across its neck. The head stayed in place for a moment, then tumbled, silencing its shrieks of outrage. His body and putrid black blood changed to ash, disappearing with the breeze.

  The Prince fumed at his Fallen's demise. He reached for the angel, but she pumped her wings and took flight for the Fallen closing in on the nun. The Prince also gave chase. He must stop the angel and the nun from getting inside the church, evading his destiny.

  "Grab her!" The Prince snarled as he pursued them.

  "Get inside the church, Anne!" The angel dived to intercept the Fallen.

  Anne glanced up but stumbled as her foot caught the habit's hem.

  "Meira help me!" Anne scrambled up, calling out to the angel.

  The Fallen screeched as they drew closer. Anne lost her footing again when she glanced back at her pursuers.

  Foolish girl doesn't have a chance.

  The Prince concentrated on the angel. He targeted her back and tackled her mid-air. The collision sent them spiraling to the ground, cracking the concrete.

  They surged to their feet, readying their weapons. The Prince paced around his enemy.

  "Do you actually want to battle me? Leave now and let me have your precious charge. Stay and fight for her, you die, and she's still mine. Your choice."

  Meira swung the sword in a wide arc, striking his side armor. He twirled and attacked, cutting his sword down on her shoulder. The heavy blow found a crease in her armor, slicing her, spraying her silver blood into the night. She cried out, falling to one knee.

  The Prince rushed her. He swung across again, but she tucked and rolled away. She pushed up to her feet in a combat stance, meeting his next advance. They attacked each other, their swords a clash of matching blows and hostility.

  She thrust forward, missing her mark. The Prince seized the opportunity and landed a strike to her hand. Her blade, freed from her grip, clanged, hitting the concrete. She shouted out, diving for her weapon, but he snatched it away.

  "You've lost your sword, angel. That's a shame." He shoved it into his belt. "I enjoyed our fight. Got my blood pumping for the kill." He continued circling her as she picked herself up, challenging him. Her angelic powers healed her wounds, but she was left defenseless.

  "Meira," he taunted, "I warned you that you were no match for me. None of you pathetic heavenly beings can match my powers."

  "You disgust me!" she spewed in his face. "How dare you crawl out of your fetid pit to kill a nun!"

  "You think it's just your nun I want? Your thoughts are so small." His wicked grin mirrored all the loathing he had for her and her kind. "My plan is just beginning, but you'll never see it."

  The Prince charged. Meira spun away, surprising him with her speed. Her powerful wings lifted her up, and she slammed her boots against his chest. He fell back but snatched her boot, pulling her down with him. She landed on top of him, driving her fist into his mouth. His tongue flicked across his lip, tasting blood. His fist shot out and landed on her jaw, knocking her off of him.

  She darted away, but he was right behind her. She spun and raised her hand. A red bolt exploded from her hand and soared at him as she took flight. He jumped, but it struck his leg, catapulting him backward. His armor absorbed the energy before he even took flight.

  How dare she!

  The Prince fired a swirling ball of energy from his hand, striking her wing. She shrieked as it knocked her out of the sky. She landed with a thud, and another crack split beneath her.

  Even though her strength tested him, the thrill of their battle fanned his want, his need to kill. He came down next to her and gave her side a vicious kick. She raised her hands again, but he pulled out her sword. He slashed across her wrists. Silver blood sprayed as her hands toppled to the ground. He shifted and stabbed the top of her wounded wing, pinning it to the ground. Tremendous satisfaction spiked through him as he twisted the sword, separating her wing. Her screams were music to his ears. He removed the sword and dragged her up by her hair, his face inches from hers as her broken wing fell uselessly at her side.

  "When will you learn these humans aren't worth fighting for? All they do is sin time and time again, not even asking for your help. Ungrateful filth. If you were my guardian angel, I'd call for you so I could watch your exquisite agony while I commit my heinous sins."

  His arm snaked around her, trapping her struggling body against his.

  "I have an offer for you. Come back with me, and I'll let Anne go."

  Her chest heaved, pain and hatred boiling in her eyes. "I'd never go with you and neither will Anne. She's taken her vows. You lose." She panted in his face, her wrists sealed by her healing powers.

  "We'll see about that." He scoffed at her arrogance while shuffling footsteps drew near. The two Fallen stopped behind the Prince. Anne's voice warbled as she spoke.

  "Our Father, who art in Heaven..."

  One Fallen grabbed Anne's hair and jerked her head back. He unsheathed his twisted dagger, pressing it against her neck.

  "Say that prayer one more time, and I'll cut off your head." His spittle sprayed her face, silencing her words.

  "Last chance." The Prince’s lips pressed to Meira’s hair, awaiting her answer.

  She angled her head, the breeze lifting her long silver hair. At that moment, he hoped she'd agree to his preposterous offer. He wanted this pure creature for himself, for his pleasure.

  "Never!" Her eyes went flat and lip curled, revulsion exuded from her.

  His eyes narrowed. She'd regret her decision, but he'd enjoy watching her pay for it.

  "No matter, I still have a use for you."

  His fingers clamped around the angel's jaw, pressing deep into her skin. She grunted against him.

  "Anne, do you love your guardian angel?" the Prince asked.

  She nodded as tears streaked down her face. "With all my heart." Her body shook as her cries got louder.

  "Do you love her more than yourself?"

  Anne looked stunned, but her adoration for Meira glowed when she looked at her.

  "Don't answer that, Anne! Don't listen to him!" Meira shook her head. "He's a liar!"

  Meira looked back at the Prince. Silver tears fell down her translucent cheeks.<
br />
  "Please, leave her alone. Set her free!" she pleaded. "She's an innocent."

  "Never." A smile emerged when she bucked against him.

  "I insist you answer me, Anne. Do you love her more than yourself?"

  "Yes, I'm nothing compared to her."

  The Prince's devious smile spread. He motioned to a Fallen. The Prince shoved Meira to the ground. She tried to flee, but the Fallen slammed his boot on her broken wing.

  "Hold your dagger to the angel. Cut her head off if she moves." The Fallen seized her around the neck. He gnashed his teeth in her ear as he pressed the blade under her chin.

  "Not too tight; we wouldn't want Meira to miss this," the Prince chided as he strode over to the nun.

  His nostrils flared, inhaling the stink of fear rolling off of Anne in waves. Fear was the ultimate control, and control was the ultimate power. He had both. She recoiled as his black-veined hand grazed her swollen cheek. Her terrified eyes darted between him and Meira.

  "If you care for your guardian angel, you can spare her. You just have to do one simple, unselfish act for her." The Prince grinned down at her.

  Hope reflected in Anne's eyes. That was what he needed to see... what he craved. Give them hope, and they were putty in his hands. He stroked her hair like he was calming a frightened animal while blocking her view.

  "Anything." Her voice quivered.

  "Give her to me," the Prince said to the Fallen holding her, who bowed as he released her.