Read Armageddon (Angelbound) for Free Online

about to say ‘I’ve no idea’ when Lincoln leaps to his feet, his eyes wild with rage. “What in blazes? You’re a Grand Master monopsyche?”
    Grand Master mono-what? Whatever that is, I’ve never seen Lincoln so angry before.
    “Yes,” says Hildy quietly.
    “And did my father hire you?”
    Hildy nods and looks away. “Yes, he did. I’m so very sorry.”
    “This is the last straw!” Whirling on his heel, Lincoln grabs a porcelain vase from a nearby table. With a great swoop of his arm, he chucks it against the wall where it shatters with a crash. Lincoln grabs another vase, but I step into his path before he can smash it.
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I guide Lincoln to lower his hand. “Look at me.” I cup his face in my palms. “Calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”
    A guard’s voice sounds at the door. “Is everything alright in there?”
    “We’re fine,” I call in a loud voice. “You’re dismissed.” I add in the secret phrase that means we’re really safe. “The angels are at ease.”
    “Excellent,” says the guard. “I’ll take my leave.”
    I gently slip my hands into Lincoln’s. His palms vibrate with tension, which makes me more nervous than ever before. “Please, tell me.”
    “That mark on Hildy’s arm,” says Lincoln in a low voice. “It’s the sign of a rare type of thrax warrior.”
    “I’m a bodyguard,” explains Hildy. “And I’m a shitty liar, too. I told Connor and Octavia that I could never keep my powers a secret, but they wanted to hire me anyway.”
    I nod slowly, my brain trying to process what’s going on. “So, Connor and Octavia hired a bodyguard for Maxon. I’m still not understanding why that’s a problem. A lot of nobles have bodyguards.”
    “Hildy, tell the Queen who you are and what you do. All of it.”
    “I’m a monopsyche,” Hildy winces as she speaks the word, like she’s waiting for me to lose my mind as much as Lincoln. “Ever heard of it?”
    “No.”
    “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We’re a specialized type of thrax bodyguard and not part of the mainstream. You have to be a Striga mix.”
    “A mix?” I repeat. “You mean like, one parent is Striga, and the other is from a different house? I didn’t even know they allowed that.” Striga are a little creepy in how they discourage marriage outside their own.
    “It isn’t allowed at all, but it happens,” replies Hildy. “The heart wants what it wants, you know? And unplanned pregnancies happen, too. When a baby’s involved, the parent has two choices. They can either be shunned from Striga for life, or drop their newborn off at the Wastelands, an isolated school in an even more isolated corner of the Striga realm.”
    “You mean, like one of the places left over from King Aethelwulf?” That psychopath was the last King of Antrum to come from the House of Acca. His great contribution to thrax history? Deciding that the best way to fight demons was to cut them off at the source and declare war on Hell itself. Antrum almost fell apart.
    “Yes,” replies Lincoln. “The Wastelands were Aethelwulf’s creation, one hundred percent.”
    I rub my neck, still trying to understand why Lincoln’s so upset. “So, you’re an orphan who was trained at this school for monopsyches. And what did you learn there, exactly?”
    “Mixed kids like me, we end up with special powers. I can merge with another thrax’s mind, which makes me a great bodyguard. That’s what monopsyche means, a bodyguard who can merge their consciousness with someone else’s.” She fidgets with the buttons on her coat. “Look, it’d be easier if I show you.” She stands up and offers Lincoln and I her palms. “May I?”
    “Depends,” I reply. “What are you going to do?”
    “I’ll take you both into my mind to see my memories.”
    I rise to my feet. “Hey, if it clears this up, then I’m in.”
    “Thanks,” says Hildy. “The things that monopsyches do are hard to explain.” She shakes