Vendetta, p.1
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       Vendetta, p.1

           James Somers
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  Descendants Saga – Crisis Sequence

  Crossover Novel


  James Somers

  2014© James Somers

  Discover other titles by James Somers

  This Ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All characters and events are fictional except where taken directly from the Holy Bible or World History

  Because VENDETTA is the final novel in the Descendants Saga and also the Prologue to the Crisis Sequence, I am giving it away free to celebrate the end of one very fun series and the beginning of another.

  Since VENDETTA is also a CROSSOVER NOVEL I’ve included the VENDETTA: CRISIS SEQUENCE cover here so that readers and fans will know what to look for with the next series. I hope you enjoy this finale and join me for the follow up series with a whole new cast of characters.

  Don’t forget to check out the cover for

  CRISIS SEQUENCE: RAGE at the end of this novel

  For fans and those who enjoy Audio Books:

  Descendants Saga Novels are now available at

  And Don’t Forget—

  The Realm Shift Trilogy Audio Books

  Perdition’s Gate Audio Omnibus Edition

  Serpent Kings Saga Audio Omnibus Edition


  Lush rainforest spread out beneath Lucifer in every direction toward the horizon. He floated down beneath the upper canopy of flowering trees. The month was December. The year 1943.

  A glorious freedom to plan and work toward the fruition of those plans kept the fallen angel giddy these days. He did not miss the old rivalry with Black. Not even a little.

  Over two decades earlier their sibling rivalry had ended in the city of Trinity created upon the spiritual plane by the three cherubim. Black had been kept preoccupied while Brody West crept upon the angel with Malak-esh in hand. An angry, vengeful thrust of the blessed sword through Black’s mortal host had been quite enough to finish the job. Black had been cut off from the mortal plane, drawn backward into Tartarus never to be heard from again.

  The cherubim had likewise been cast into the angelic prison where they too awaited final judgment. All that they had remade upon the spiritual plane had been washed away by the Almighty and his heavenly host. Only a void remained now. It could be used for traveling, but there were no longer any destinations there.

  Lucifer remained free to do as he pleased. He had kept Southresh attached to the mortal plane since the mad god continued to prove useful to his plans, particularly in the matter of relations between Adolf and the Japanese. However, should he turn from his service, Lucifer would cut the ties that bound Southresh to the world and be rid of him.

  Dense foliage surrounded the angel as he drifted forward. Ungurahui and Rubber trees abounded in the rainforest. Lucifer noticed quite a few Walking Palms seeming to creep sluggishly upon their long stilted roots. Others, growing shallow in the soil, were supported by extensive buttress root systems.

  Red Howler monkeys whooped high up in the canopy. A jaguar had pounced upon a capybara beside a stream and was busy taking its fill of the large rodent. A hungry ocelot watched the jaguar feeding, coveting the kill but not daring to tangle with its larger cousin over its meal.

  Golden Lion tamarins swung from branch to branch unconcerned at the moment. Dwelling in the upper canopy, they had little to fear from such predators. A three-toed sloth lumbered along a branch nearby at its snail’s pace, a single baby clinging to its mother’s mossy fur. The ocelot kept an eye peeled, hoping for a fortuitous fall.

  Lucifer took all of these rich details in, gliding through the air. The animals may have sensed him, but none could see him at the moment. He did not wish to spook the people dwelling here in the Amazon.

  Flying insects buzzed through the humid jungle. Snakes of numerous varieties slithered and slinked across the jungle floor, or through the branches of trees in search of prey. But none of these concerned the angel at all, though his movements seemed very much like them.

  It did not take him long to find what he was looking for. A group of Indians were huddled together among the ground foliage, peering up into the canopy. Their red skin contrasted with the greenery, but with their meager garments and body paint the effect was diminished so that they blended well enough.

  A howler had spotted them despite their camouflage. The simian lookout began to call out to his group, warning them of danger below. Lucifer watched as one of the Indians leaped into the air, soaring high into the canopy after the monkey.

  The howler attempted to flee, but the lithe Indian took off after him, branch to branch, leaping and flying through the air. After a furious chase that lasted mere seconds the Indian proffered a crude knife. A moment later the monkey screeched out its last breath.

  The body dropped from the tree where it had been killed, hitting the jungle floor about thirty yards from the huddled Indians. They moved quickly and quietly to get the beast before another predator came after it. The last thing they wanted to do was fight with a jaguar over their dinner.

  The Indian who had made the kill floated gently down beside his fellows where they were gathered around the carcass. The bloody knife was put away as he touched down upon the ground again. None of his companions seemed to find anything unusual about the Indian’s ability to defy gravity in this way. Nothing could have been more normal to them.

  Lucifer smiled, revealing himself to them. They were startled at first. Who wouldn’t be at having someone like Lucifer suddenly appearing before you? Especially when you had, only a moment ago, been under the impression that no one else was around.

  Still, they did not attack. They knew better than that. He was known to them already, though not under the friendliest of terms. After all, knowing one of the Fallen did not mean you looked forward to their arrival at your door, or jungle, as the case happened to be presently.

  He had appeared in the garb of a gentleman. By his polished dress, Lucifer might have been out to a fine restaurant in Paris, or a Broadway play. He seemed completely foreign to this environment, which was how he liked it. The better to make these folk uncomfortable in his presence. Set them ill at ease, off balance, through his unpredictability. When people became anxious they often made mistakes—blunders that he could then exploit.

  Standing among the undergrowth in his black suit with the red cravat, he leaned slightly upon an ebony walking stick with a silver serpent’s head knob on top. The Indians never took their eyes off of him. They were tense, possibly expecting the worse. Lucifer might as easily kill you as look at you, and all with a smile upon his face.

  He allowed them to linger in this uncertainty for a moment before addressing them. There was a noticeable shudder from the group when his lips parted to speak. He smiled in his easy way like a wolf among sheep.

  “Take me to Luxana.”


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