Dark Angel John Sandford Novels & Stories

she said with a gentle smile. "What am I?" "You are an angel, capable of good and evil. Angel's like you are born every hundred years. Your purpose on earth is to bring peace to all. From what I have seen, you seem to be a very pure being, but at the same time there is a darkness swallowing you whole. You must never succumb to your dark side or else you could be the end of all living things" she explained. "An angel?" I asked bewildered. "Yes. That's the reason why your wolf is white, it represents your angel side. You are the only white wolf in the entire world"

My heart raced against my ribcage with each step I took, and seeing my friend’s blood on my hand, I couldn’t help but feel my chest ache. Entering the bathroom, I stared at my reflection for a second as I turned the faucet on to wash the blood off my hands. My eyes held anger, hatred, and darkness like never before, and I knew that all these emotions were directed at ONE person, and one person alone. I, Alpha Dante D’Angelo, will not rest or stop until you are dead, Giovanni D’Angelo. It is time for you to sleep with one eye open, because I am coming for you…

"But believe me, I didn't betray you. We can't undo the past, but we can shape the future if we work together." As his words continued to reverberate within the space, a transformation seemed to unfurl before me. Antonio's identity emerged, an intricate mosaic of lineage and legacy. His voice, infused with a potent mixture of authority and ancestral lineage, resonated like the echoes of a distant storm. He unveiled himself as Antonio Rico Luca, the descendant of Luca Osvaldo, a figure shrouded in the mystique of a Dark Angel of merciless Deaths. The weight of his lineage bore down upon his declaration, an assertion of power and consequence that sent ripples of apprehension through me.

A silence would form, with only rain to fill the void, but my reins were not under control. — Your house has almost no windows... Are you a vampire? — I whispered. — I don't think so, Angel. He looked at me lying on the bed, covered by his sheets and dressed in his clothes. He didn't seem to mind. — I like it when you call me Angel... In his voice it seems to sound more...—I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and losing myself in my reasoning. — I don't know...

His eyes are locked on mine. "You want me to drink from you?" His voice is laced with mockery now. "Are you that desperate to die, Angel?" My stomach drops. He leans forward suddenly, the bottle dangling loosely between his fingers. "I've wanted to die for years," he says, his words soft, but they pierce deep into my soul. "I tried everything. Pills. Blades. Jumping from buildings high enough to crush every bone in my body. Nothing worked. The spirits won't let me go. They like the house they built inside me too much."

We were sitting inside Deena's living room, and I'd spent the last two hours telling her everything. The festival. The hotel. Emilio. Ophelia. And most importantly...Azrael. When I finally told her who Angel really was, Deena stared at me for almost thirty seconds. “So wait...your Mr. Angel is the Azrael Valchini?!” I nodded, taking a sip of wine. “You've heard of him?” “Girl! Who hasn't! He's like one of the richest men in the world right now thanks to some tech software program.” Now that surprised me. With everything that's been going on, I hadn't had the chance to do a full background check on him. So he's also a tech genius?

Every day I cried for you, thinking the Goddess was showing me what could have been, but she was actually showing me what was to come. Your birth mother was an angel, and your birth father a demon. I was near a river I often visited when I heard your mother's sobs. She was clutching you, and when we locked eyes with me, she handed you to me and grabbed my hand, showing me everything that had happened through her touch. Your father was a demon, and despite their races, they were madly in love. Your father is the King of the Underworld. An angel's highest rank is a guard of the Gods and Goddesses themselves; your mother was the daughter of Jeremiel, one of those guards.

Even though Eden Joy was wealthy, it did not belong solely to Zeke and his son! They were only two of the top-level executives. After coming up with an idea, Zeke looked toward the old man wearing a robe next to him. He looked like a sorcerer with long hair. “Master Sandford, I’m afraid that we will need you to take the trouble on this.” Master Sandford said with a calm expression, “Sure, just prepare the money.” Master Sandford was a pre-celestial fighter who was exceptionally well-trained in fighting. He was commissioned by Eden Joy to kill quite a number of people, and he had never failed his missions.

[Victor’s POV] After finishing my second bottle of whiskey, I was drunk. The pain from my severed fingers on my left hand seemed numbed by the alcohol, but the pain in my heart only grew. With a creak, the door was pushed open. I suddenly sat upright. I struggled to my feet and reached out carefully, as if touching a fragile illusion that might shatter at any moment. My voice came out in broken fragments. “Rachel… you’re back…” “Darling, what’s wrong with you?”

She said in a sad tone as she stared at their photo. Angel lost her mother because of an accident when she was 13. It was two months after Angel passed the first stage of transition and found out that she was a Sin. The loss hit her hard and got deeply depressed, to the point that she attempted to kill herself atleast five times. Then, she met Aldrin. Al saved her and introduced her to the world of Sins and combat. It was when Angel started to live a double life to save her sanity and escape her depression. She used training to clear her mind and saw combats as her stress reliever. “Sometimes, I feel bad for this little guy.” She sadly uttered as she caressed Jiro’s face in the picture.