ARCHENEMY

BOOK 1 OF THE XAVIER TRILOGY

CHRISTINA BAUER

COPYRIGHT

Newton, MA 02464

www.monsterhousebooks.com

ISBN 9781946677709

First Edition

Copyright © 2023 by Monster House Books LLC

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

DEDICATION

For All Those Who Kick Ass, Take Names

and Read Books

CONTENTS

Collected Works

ARCHENEMY

1. Xavier

2. Xavier

3. Xavier

4. Xavier

5. Xavier

6. Xavier

7. Xavier

8. Xavier

9. Xavier

10. Xavier

11. Xavier

12. Xavier

13. Xavier

14. Xavier

15. Xavier

16. Xavier

17. Xavier

18. Xavier

19. Xavier

20. Xavier

21. Xavier

22. Xavier

23. Xavier

24. Xavier

25. Xavier

26. Xavier

27. Xavier

28. Xavier

29. Xavier

30. Xavier

31. Xavier

32. Xavier

33. Xavier

34. Xavier

35. Xavier

36. Xavier

37. Xavier

38. Xavier

Also By Christina Bauer

ARCHNEMESIS

EVIL QUEENS AND GOBLIN KINGS

ANGELBOUND

PIXIELAND DIARIES

DIMENSION DRIFT

BEHOLDER

Appendix

If You Enjoyed This Book…

Acknowledgments

About Christina Bauer

Subscribe

Bonus Images

About Aurelian

About Merit

About Boris

About Senenmut

COLLECTED WORKS

CHRISTINA BAUER, AUTHOR

Angelbound Xavier

The real story behind our favorite archangel

1. Archenemy

2. Archnemesis

3. Archangel

Angelbound Origins

About a quasi (part demon and part human) girl who loves kicking butt in Purgatory's Arena

1. Angelbound

2. Scala

3. Acca

4. Thrax

5. The Dark Lands

6. The Brutal Time

7. Armageddon

8. Quasi Redux

9. Clockwork Igni

10. Lady Reaper

11. Reaper Games

12. Angry Gods

13. Phantom Corsair

Angelbound Offspring

The next generation takes on Heaven, Hell, and everything in between

1. Maxon

2. Portia

3. Zinnia

4. Rhodes

5. Kaps

6. Mack

7. Huntress

8. Gage

*This is a finished series.

Angelbound Lincoln

The Angelbound experience as told by Prince Lincoln

1. Duty Bound

2. Lincoln

3. Trickster

4. Baculum

5. Angelfire

6. Rixa

7. Mordred

Fairy Tales of the Magicorum

Modern fairy tales with sass, action, and romance

1. Wolves and Roses

2. Moonlight and Midtown

3. Shifters and Glyphs

4. Slippers and Thieves

5. Bandits and Ball Gowns

6. Fire and Cinder

7. Fairies and Frosting

8. Towers and Tithes

9. Evil Queens and Goblin Kings

Dimension Drift

Dystopian adventures with science, snark, and hot aliens

1. Scythe

2. Umbra

3. Alien Minds

4. ECHO Academy

5. Justice

6. Slate

Pixieland Diaries

1. Pixieland Diaries

2. Calla

3. Dare

4. Winter Prince

5. Ley Queen

*This is a finished series.

Beholder

Where a medieval farm girl discovers necromancy and true love

1. Cursed

2. Concealed

3. Cherished

4. Crowned

5. Cradled

*This is a completed series.

ARCHENEMY

1

XAVIER

ENGLAND, 2770 BCE

The first rays of dawn touch the forest outside my hut. Gentle breezes shake the oaks, setting off a chorus of rustling leaves. The scent of all things green and fresh fills the air. Inside my home, mice skitter around the straw pile that serves as my bed. Months ago, those little creatures might have snapped me out of a deep sleep.

But I’m already awake. Why? I’ve avoided any slumber for the last six weeks. It’s not easy, yet I have no choice.

Because when I dream, I see her.

The woman in red.

Lying on my back, I lace my fingers behind my head and wonder who’s behind these unwanted night visions. All the while, I don’t think about the woman in red. I don’t picture her ruby-colored hair and matching dress. Or how her wide eyes gleam with intelligence while her full mouth appears ripe for a kiss. And I definitely ignore the way she exudes feline grace with every movement. The very core of my being craves her. Again.

And I’m not even dreaming. This is bad.

I’m a warrior angel. Since the dawn of time, I’ve only focused on battle. Women are to be protected, not desired. And especially not a quasi-demonic lady who sports a dragon scale tail… like the one in my dream.

Crunch! Crunch!

Uneven footsteps sound on the dried-out leaves outside my hut. I know that particular stride. It’s Mortimer, High Druid of Stonehenge. Normally, I dread the fellow coming around. Now, I welcome any distraction.

The footsteps stop. Mortimer starts chanting something about the coming of summer and visiting the great god, Cernunnos. This kind of thing can go on for hours if I don’t break it up early.

“Come in!” I call.

Mortimer stops chanting. He slides away the panel of thatched branches that serves as my door.

Mortimer’s a lanky fellow in loose black robes. His long face holds a pinched nose and a full beard. Like always, he carries a staff topped by a round stone. After stepping inside my hut, he bows in my direction.

“I greet thee, Oh God of the Wild, Cernunnos.”

When I first moved here from the desert realm, I tried explaining how I’m an angel from Heaven. It didn’t go well. Humans don’t handle strange things easily. Eventually, the druids decided that I am actually Cernunnos, their forest god. One day, humans may know angels so well, I’ll be forced to hide my identity. For now, I consider the ‘Cernunnos mistake’ to be a step in the right direction.

I sit up on my straw bed. “And greetings to you, Mortimer the Druid.”

“You live in filth.” Sadly, Mortimer knows I’m not the smiting sort of deity. He sasses off all the time.

“You’re not wrong.” My hut is filled with spell ingredients. Herbs hang in bunches from the ceiling. Other magical supplies—everything from new seeds to old dragon scales—lie in wooden bowls on the floor. Packets of pre-made spells sit everywhere. “I should clean up.”

“It’s not your dwelling I refer to, but you, oh Cernunnos.”

“You’re not wrong there, either.”

Dust covers my dark skin. My hair is matted, as is my uneven beard. What were once pristine robes are now rags. And my white wings are speckled with dirt.

I’m a total mess. And it’s all because of her.

“Ah, that.” I purse my lips and debate what I should tell Mortimer. The short answer is, not much. Sadly, my sleepy mind has other ideas.

“I’m having dreams again,” I admit. “Fantastical stuff.”

“Oh!” Mortimer rubs his palms together. “In these night visions, do you live in a golden palace and consult with the king and queen of the desert realm?”

Mortimer is talking about my friend, the god Osiris, and his wife, the goddess Isis. I lived with them for years before Osiris died. It’s not something I discuss. Ever.

“I told you about that?”

“Yes, at the half moon.”

“Guess I’m sleepier than I thought.” I rub my eyes. “My adventures in the desert realm are not a fantasy. That was my life before I came here.”

“Ah.” Mortimer runs his bony fingers through his long brown beard. “Perhaps you’ve been dreaming how the god Osiris taught you the secrets of spell casting?”

I lift my brows in surprise. “I told you about that, too?”

“At the quarter moon.”

“I’m far sleepier than I thought.” I bob my head, trying to find the words to explain everything to Mortimer. “Although my time with Osiris may sound like a fantasy, it actually happened. And Osiris is the God of Reincarnation.”

Mortimer wags his finger at me. “Do not say such things. You are Cernunnos. Other deities do not exist. Your blasphemy will bring down wrath on our people.”

I debate about correcting Mortimer, but he’s more skittish than most druids. “Perhaps we’ve visited enough for one day.”

“Come now, tell me what troubles your dreams.” Mortimer sits down beside me on the pile of straw. “Start with these fantasies about Osiris. Perhaps that will help.”

Memories appear. It’s two hundred years ago. I wear my desert realm garb of a linen kilt and slippers. My head is shaved and my skin is slick with sweat. Heat beats down on me as I race along the Nile, calling for Osiris. Panic zings through my limbs. Questions ricochet through my mind.

Where is Osiris?

How could I allow him to confront his unpredictable brother, Set, alone?

I speed along for what feels like hours, calling for my friend the entire time. Some humans offer to aid in the search. I gently refuse their help. No humans can see Osiris, let alone track him. At last, I discover a body lying in the reeds by the Nile. Rough wounds cover his torso—the kind of slices that can only be made by Set’s massive sword.

It’s Osiris. He’s dead.

For a long moment, it’s all I can do to stare at the corpse. Osiris is gone.

“Xavier, did you hear me?”

I blink hard, pushing the recollection away. “Yes, Mortimer?”

“You were about to share the tale of Osiris.” Mortimer sets his hand on my shoulder. “I came here to check on you. Allow me to do that. Talk to me.”

Guilt weighs on my shoulders. I should never have let Osiris face Set alone. Now, my adopted brother rules the Duat underworld where he exists as an undead thing. I’ll never see him again. It’s why I came to the Northlands in the first place—I must forget Osiris. Perhaps moving here was a mistake. I thought life in a different culture would help me. Instead, I dream about a woman in red.

Life here isn’t working. Time to move on.

Rising, I begin collecting all my spell packets into a single leather satchel. “Actually, it’s beyond time for me to leave. I’ve always wanted to live somewhere with more snow than rain. I’m sure you understand.”

“You’re going now?” Mortimer stands as well. “That isn’t a good idea.”

Snap!

Suddenly, the packed earth cracks around Mortimer’s feet. Lines of red mist rise up from the ground. The tendrils of smoke twist into the shape of ghostly faces. All of them are screaming. None make a sound.

A chill runs down my back. Mortimer’s eyes take on a frantic expression. His mouth stretches into an unnaturally large smile. The tendrils of red smoke keep twisting around his body.

This isn’t Mortimer anymore. Someone else has possessed my friend.

“Who are you and what have you done with Mortimer?”

It’s Mortimer who speaks, but another, deeper voice comes from his mouth. “Your druid friend is in this body, but he is no longer the ruler of his own flesh. You now speak with the maker of your dreams. I’m the one who created the woman in red.”

Only one entity tells you he’s magically invading your night visions. My skin prickles over in shock.

“I know who you are. Set, the God of Chaos.”

“Correct.”

The word hits me with such force, I have trouble pulling air into my lungs. After all, I came to the Northlands to escape memories of Osiris’ death. Now, the deity responsible for killing my friend is tormenting me with dreams of the perfect woman.

More red smoke rises and twists around Mortimer’s body. When the haze clears, the druid is gone. Instead, an eight-foot-tall humanoid looms before me. The man has dark skin that glistens as if he were just dipped in blood. He wears the garb of a pharaoh. And there’s no missing his donkey ears and aardvark snout.

That’s Set, all right.

2

XAVIER

Set looms before me. Chaos magic radiates from him with such force, I feel the energy rattling my bones.

“Where’s the gratitude?” asks Set. “I send you dreams of the perfect woman, and you’ve not a single word of thanks. It took me ages to design a woman to trap you. Perhaps even cut your throat while you sleep. I even took inspiration from other realities, just to ensure you’d be powerless to refuse her.”

“Other realities?”

“You can’t think this is the only version of us in existence. And chaos knows no boundaries.”

A familiar mix of anger and frustration twists up my back. I open my mouth, ready to counter that I’ll never fall for Set’s ‘chaos woman.’

I stop myself before speaking a word. Claiming I don’t care for this dream lady doesn’t ring true, even inside my own mind. The reason is simple. For years, I’ve lived in the woods with only Mortimer and his predecessors for companionship. A beautiful woman is a good way to grab my attention. And this is Set’s classic mode of attack—chaos and distraction.

“I see what you’re doing,” I state. “I’m supposed to worry about the woman in red and avoid the true risk here.”

“Ah, you refer to my wish to annihilate all life on earth.” Set grins. “It’s what I do, isn’t it? Remember when great lizards roamed the land? I wiped them out. But it was an unfinished eradication. Human life should never have been able to rise up. Now I must finish my extermination.”

“This is all based on one assumption.”

“And that is?”

“You’ve actually escaped your prison under the Red Pyramid.” Now, it’s my turn to smile. “I don’t believe you’re free.”

Set chuckles. “You are clever. I see why Osiris kept you around. Too bad you weren’t wise enough to stop dear my dear brother from fighting me alone. I plunged my blade into his heart.”

My blood heats with rage. How can he talk about murdering Osiris? I force my breathing to slow. This is simply another distraction. Don’t play into his schemes.

“As I said before, I won’t be lured away from what’s important here. Did you escape, yes or no?”

“Of course, I am free. Can you really believe that Osiris’ silly boy, Horus, would cast a strong enough spell to keep me imprisoned forever?”

Set does have a point. Horus insisted it was his blood right to imprison Set. It was more of a drunken rampage. The move was so unexpected, it even caught the God of Chaos by surprise. No one thinks Set will stay trapped forever.

I purse my lips and consider. If Set has really escaped, I’d have a dagger in my throat, same as Osiris.

This is all a lie.

Even so, I must test my theory. Glancing around my hut, I spy the pre-made packet for a spell of revealment. All I need is enough time to cast it. Set isn’t the only one who can use distractions.

“How’s life under the Red Pyramid?” I ask. “You’re trapped in a great cavern made entirely of onyx. What chaotic illusions you must conjure in order to pass the time.”

“I picture killing you, often. Do you wish to kill me?”

“Attack me and find out.”

“I spend my time thinking about a single question. Why did my brother, Osiris, save you?”

With these words, more memories flood my mind. I recall the day I met Osiris. It was the War of the Clouds. Angels and demons fought in the sky over the desert realm. I was one of the many who were wounded. I fell from the clouds to land on the desert below. Bodies and blood were everywhere. Osiris came by, picked me up from the battlefield and healed me. Afterward, he taught me spell craft for years.

“I don’t know why Osiris picked me,” I admit. “Just as I don’t know why he insisted on fighting you alone.” I meet Set’s gaze. His blood-red eyes seem to shine with a potent mixture of jealousy and rage.

“That can’t be true. You must know.” With that, one thing is clear. At last, the God of Chaos is fully distracted.

Here’s my chance.

Scooping up the spell packet, I rush to kneel at Set’s feet, right at the spot where the ground first cracked open before Mortimer. Crushing the packet in my hand, I press the ingredients against the broken earth and focus on the angelic magic within me. A chill pools behind my eyes—that means my irises are glowing blue with angel power. I speak the incantation.

Truth and dawn

Lies be gone

Energy and magic surge up my arms. White light erupts from the ingredients I’ve pressed against the cracked soil. Pale beams shine out from between my fingers and onto Sets’ long robes.

I look up. If the spell works, then the ground will seal over and Set will vanish. That isn’t what happens.

“I summon my chaos.” Set raises his arms. “Give me the truth!”

Ssssss!

Fresh plumes of red smoke erupt from the break in the ground. Waves of chaos energy move through me. It’s as if insects are crawling under my skin. Crimson mist soon fills my hut.

Boom!

The walls of my home blast apart, revealing the oak forest beyond. As always, no one is near, except for one person.

Mortimer.

My druid friend now stands with his back against the trunk of a mighty oak. Set stands before Mortimer. The God of Chaos holds a sword. The tip of the blade sits right above the druid’s heart.

“Answer my question,” says Set. “Or Mortimer dies.”

Questions echo through my mind. Is Set here? Or am I seeing another one of his chaos illusions? Even if it’s probably a lie, can I take the risk that it isn’t?

I look down at my pitiful spell. The sad little beams of sunlight aren’t strong enough to do much of anything. How can I know if this is all an illusion or not?

A sad fact becomes clear. I don’t know what’s real. Which means Mortimer’s life could really be at risk.

“I really don’t know why Osiris befriended me. Cast any spell you like. This is the truth.”

Set presses the very tip of his blade into Mortimer’s chest. My friend screams. Worry twists through me. I’m a low-level warrior angel. I can’t win in hand-to-hand combat with Set. My best chance is the incantation Osiris taught me.