Clockwork Angels Books Novels & Stories

Please. What do you mean?” This time he chuckled. “Oh, little one. It’s simple. Our biology tells when the perfect time to shift is. For wolves it’s between fifteen and sixteen. For vampires we know around thirteen sometimes it’s a bit late coming close to fifteen. Witches and fires shift around seventeen and angels shift sometime between sixteen and eighteen. You still have time. Until your eighteen. Your just not a normal Shifter. You still may be human but you could still be a dark angel. If your special you could be a white angel but there hasn’t been one for hundreds of years so it’s very unlikely.”

Byron I strode through the dark corridors of the dungeons, passing by several cells, most of which held Hollowborns we captured. Hollowborns were the second plague of our time. Capturing supernaturals and stealing their magic. I always enjoy torturing them. But today, I'd come for a different reason. I stopped before the cell that held the werewolf. The gates had been laced with wolfsbane, making it impossible for her to try to escape. It didn't seem like she was planning on it, judging by how she curled against the wall, hugging her knees tightly. She didn't seem to notice my presence, or maybe she just didn't care enough.

My trembling hand skimmed over the brown old pages, the light provided by the small flashlight shakily dancing over the book, my slightly labored breathing being the only sound reaching my ears as I sat hidden behind the huge chair, hurriedly skipping over the words. "...a fallen angel is a wicked or rebellious angel that has been cast out of Heaven...” “For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into Hell and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until judgment...”

Haven’t gone through the codes book I decided to start tomorrow with the first code “the activation of the angel of death at the cemetery. The book described the angel of death as the wicked angel. The death angel is dumb and deaf. it doesn't have any sympathy for anyone. It operates when the opponent number ranges from thousand upwards. I commanded the astral mirror to wake me up when it is 12 midnight. In my sleep, I heard a loud noise of alarm I woke up and it was exactly 12 midnight. I wore my gown and vanished in the air to the cemetery. I knelt on the material crossed my hand and activated my spiritual eyes as the book has stated.

“Wait here, reception has a package for me.” Serenity nodded as Noah left the apartment, locking the door behind him and she sighed. She’d never been one to sit still and she climbed to her feet, going to the bookshelf. Prying yet another tome off the shelf, she went back to the sofa and sat down, opening it. This book was slightly different than the others. It told of angels and their powers. Of their blood thirsty needs. Of their lust for violence. Every page was splattered with dark stains and Serenity told herself it couldn’t be blood…

"Just—any book that mentions angels." Her lip twitches into a smirk but there is not even a hint of amusement on her face. She clicks her tongue and the lights flicker. I take a step and whirl around as the room grows dark. Before my eyes can adjust, dozens of glowing white shapes surround me—no, hundreds of glowing white books. I hear a sharp wince following by the rustle of clothing. "These are all the texts that mention the angels." I clench my jaw hard. "All of them?"

I was the bridge, the one who would ensure the frequency reached its target without tearing us apart first. ​The first of the Clockwork Prophets appeared at the mouth of the pass just as the moon rose. They were terrifying to behold. Massive, multi-legged walkers made of brass and iron, their chimneys belching black smoke into the pristine air. Thousands of smaller, spider-like drones scurried between the legs of the giants, their mandibles glowing with a blue, electrical fire. ​They did not send a messenger. They did not ask for surrender. They simply began to move toward us, a slow, grinding tide of metal that promised only annihilation.

“When I first met him, I thought he was crazy. Time travel is another myth in my timeline. Its stories and made up. We left the museum and I was supposed to have a visit with my mother after taking the two children home, but she didn’t show. So went back to the museum and back to the clock.” Angela smiled, “You felt the pull.” Jenna looked at her confused, “The pull?” she asked. Angela nodded, “Angelo is the clock’s keeper, but the clock itself pulls to those who want to change their destiny, and then Angelo can decide if he feels they are worthy.”