Killer Angels Book Summary Novels & Stories

He reached out with his uninjured right hand, his large fingers gently tracing the line of my jaw, his thumb brushing away a stray speck of soot from my cheek. "I've been ready for thirteen years, Rowan," I answered softly, a genuine, rare smile breaking across my face as I looked up into the amber depths of his eyes. The ghosts of my past–my mother, my father, and my little sister–were finally resting quietly in the soil, avenged by the very blade resting at my hip. I wasn't an assassin running from the dark anymore; I was a survivor standing in the light. Aaron raised his silver ritual blade, the polished edge catching the bright morning sun as he turned to face the circle of pack members.

"He wanted you to have it when the time was right." Arthur froze. "My father?" "He was one of the Watchers. Before they purged them. Read it carefully. And don’t trust the ones who speak the loudest." Inside the journal were entries written in cryptic metaphors, alluding to the church's hidden agenda—a society within the clergy that manipulated spiritual narratives to keep control over gifted individuals. The most chilling passage read: The girl with the flame in her veins will be offered before the ancient altar if she is not hidden. She is the key and the lock. Protect her, even if it kills you.

Alessia's POV I am smeared with my tears because my vision is dimming at the bottom of the cliff. I can't seem to accept that he fell off the cliff and he saved me, that I should have saved him. He did something wrong, but I changed my view of him. In every evil, there is a hidden well. And just like good, there is underlying evil. Even the relic also fell down the cliff. Why do things seem to be getting worse? When will these problems end? How do I tell Elijah—or should I say how do I get out of here now that Erigor is gone?

Amber, chocolate, flecks of gold, and in the center a rust-like color. “Why would the death of one of the Killing Corps demand a cleaning?” I asked, staring deep into his eyes. The ticking of the intricate clockworks of his brain could almost be seen as he thought about not only answering the question, but how much to give away if he did. “We’re the sadistic children even the CIA doesn’t want to admit are theirs. Nothing to tie us to them so they can have full deniability.” My heart stopped, and I froze. CIA?

“Yes, especially now. The Devils are vulnerable to attacks, to inner rebellion and dissent, to retributive acts, to people looking to silence them. Vic and the boys have dirt on everyone, Annie, and although Wolf Connor has assured their ex-partners that nobody in the club will rat anybody out, lots of other clubs are nervous, especially since a rival club has basically imploded recently. The President of The Fallen Angels, Ace Cuddy, turned on his own brothers and turned informant, and helped to being down Kirk Jensen’s entire operation.” “I read about that in the papers,” Annie said. “It was a bloodbath. Weren’t most of The Fallen Angels members killed in a shoot-out or something?” “Yes. T

I go to my seat and put my bag there. “You asshole! How could you think of something like that? We are family here! We are not just classmates but a family. No one can be a killer to us. I know we are not too good but killing someone? Heck, we cherish each other here, Clark! Open your mind and stop thinking that one of us is a killer! Think, dude. One last time that I will hear you are thinking like that, I will punch you until you vomit blood,” Ace said madly.

Your angel herself appointed that poor guy to kill you yet this psychotic bastard killed him. "Dammit!! I'll kill you bastard" I bursted staring at my phone and with my corner eye I saw the Satan across me subtly jolted. In the end, Angel died and that mafia bastard survived. Anger was dripping from me after reading this book. Bullshit. Stupid Angel!! Instead of killing him, she killed herself. Bitch!! "Ughhhhhh!!! Bitch!!" I groaned as Harold was watching me with wide eyes. Probably shocked but I was angry.

The bullet was still inside, I could feel it grinding against bone when I moved, but digging it out without tools would do more damage than leaving it. The sun was rising over Catania, painting the sky in shades of red that reminded me of blood and fire and all the things I'd tried to leave behind when I'd taken vows in a church that seemed like it belonged to someone else's life. Father Damien Cross had been a lie I'd told myself, a fantasy that I could atone for fifteen years of murder by wearing a collar and offering absolution I'd never deserved. But Damien Moretti was real, the killer who'd earned his father's respect by being more vicious than anyone expected, and he was who I needed t

He had such nice black hair and such pale skin. "How does pale skin such as yours endure such harsh summers?" She asked, but no response, just the soft breathing that passed his pink lips. "You don't seem so bad." Ariel said. White men are dangerous. The remembrance of Ivory’s words caused Ariel’s face to scrunch up in confusion. "Dangerous? He looks so peaceful here. Angelic almost. How could someone so intriguing be dangerous?" Satan was once an angel. Way to counterattack yourself, Ariel.

"Yes, she cursed that, 'there will come a day, when I too will use the dark magic like they did'. But I laughed at her face and killed her without remorse. Warrior Angels were created to punish and restore peace, and I was doing just that. Later on my way back, I found a book. I took it with me back to heaven. I kept it aside and forgot about it for a while. One day I accidentally came across the book, it was opened wide to a page. I read the words on the page out loud. It turned out to be a spell that will leave all my fellow Angels in a sleep-like state. I don't know about it then, but later I found out that it is a dark spell to control others. The Lord above aka your God found out abou