Splinter angel book 1, p.1
Splinter Angel: Book 1, page 1
Splinter Angel
Book 1
AvaritiaBona
Mango Media LLC
Copyright © AvaritiaBona 2025 produced by Mango Media LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher at admin@mangomediapublishing.com.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book cover by Slothbeing. Typesetting by Miblart.
Dedication
To my early readers, especially those who bugged me to start posting this publicly.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
31. Chapter 31
32. Chapter 32
33. Chapter 33
34. Chapter 34
35. Chapter 35
36. Chapter 36
37. Chapter 37
38. Chapter 38
39. Chapter 39
40. Chapter 40
Chapter one
Nicola Stamper was having a good time. No, a great time! He was in an exclusive nightclub, he was with his friends, he had his dad’s credit card in his pocket, and he had a beautiful girl sitting next to him. But with great credit limits came great bottle orders. Nicola had had too much to drink. Nic was not feeling so great.
He turned to Stacy, his “girlfriend,” and saw her looking at him funny for a moment. She looked away, nodding quickly toward the door before she went back to the ditzy girl that all his friends knew. “Sorry, boys,” she cooed, her voice cutting through the music. “I’ve gotta take this one home before he becomes completely useless.” She smiled suggestively as she took his arm and hoisted him to his feet, to the cheers and jeers of his friends.
“Go easy on him, Stace!” someone called, and she stuck her tongue out at the speaker, her eyes smoldering in a way that almost made Nic jealous.
God, she’d been perfect tonight, hadn’t she? Touchy, just clingy enough, talking him up to his friends, making nice with their girls… should he go for it? The piss said yes, definitely! But there were good reasons not to, weren’t there? He knew her too well, didn’t he? Or rather, he knew about her. He wasn’t sure that anyone actually knew Stacy. Maybe his dad did? Anyway, no. Terrible idea. He’d seen what she could do.
As Stacy straightened Nic’s shirt, he was vaguely aware of her glancing at someone and jerking her head toward the door. Oh, right. Charlie. Charlie was here. Of course.
“Come on, big boy,” Stacy said just slightly too loudly, nestling in next to him so his arm was over her shoulders and her own around his waist, propping him up. Fucking hell; he kept forgetting how strong she was for such a little girl. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The man at the door let them out with a respectful, “Good night, sir. Madam,” and they were outside in the cool air of a clear London summer night. Nic straightened unsteadily, leaning on Stacy, unsure what had just happened. They’d been drinking, talking about getting a couple of chalets in Switzerland for winter…
“Charlie will be here with the car in five minutes,” Stacy said near his ear, her voice all business now. “Think you can stay on your feet that long?”
“Yes,” he stated confidently as his left knee almost buckled, and Stacy had to steady him. He looked at her as he tried to figure out if he should go in the alley to vom, go take a piss, or try to do neither so he didn’t disgust Stacy. Fucking hell, she was well fit, wasn’t she, with her sidecut and her tight purple dress and her yank accent and her ink? Yeah, she was a little older, but, like, hot older. It almost made him wish she really was his girlfriend. But she wasn’t. It was important to remember that, but it was also important that other people think so. Oh yes. Very important.
“Aaaaay! Nicky-booooy!”
There came a holler from the club entrance. Aston and his girl Tricia had come out, and they were coming over. Shite! Had to sell it, right? He was supposed to tell her first, but…
“Sorry about this, love,” Nic mumbled. Then he bent way down and pressed his lips to Stacy’s.
Anastasia Cole was not having a good time, but it was about to get better. In a few minutes, Charles would bring the car around. He’d drop Ana off at her apartment, and she could finally get out of this ridiculous dress and these idiotic shoes, get cleaned up, and sleep for the next ten hours. Maybe have some hot cocoa at some point. With marshmallows.
Well, that wasn’t quite fair to the outfit. She liked the dress, and the shoes weren’t too uncomfortable for a 3 inch heel. What she disliked was the context in which she wore them. Who she needed to be to sell the illusion of “Stacy.”
In any case, Nic would soon be Charles’ problem. Until the next time he wanted to go out, that was, which mercifully wasn’t that often. And in only a few weeks the boy would be off to college. No, “university”. He’d already been to “college.” After years in Britain she still wasn’t quite used to the lingo. Once the semester started she’d only have to deal with him a few times per year, and what a relief that would be. Playing besties with socialites was exhausting, but not Nic-level exhausting.
To be fair, tonight hadn’t been as bad as it might have been. Nic had neither hit on any other women in front of her nor thrown up down the front of her dress, so that was something.
Then someone shouted, “Aaaay, Nicky-boooy!” and Ana’s evening went to shit.
Ana threw a glance at whoever that was, her left hand going to the clasp of her purse, but it was only Nic’s friend Aston and his girl-of-the-moment Patricia. Ana didn’t like surprises, but they were both drunk and unlikely to cause any trouble. She’d have to play Stacy for a bit longer, that was all. Everything was fine.
Then Nic said, “Sorry about this, love.”
Ana didn’t like surprises. When she turned to look up at Nic and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, mashing his lips against hers, she very nearly took him down.
It wasn’t the fact that he kissed her. She had kissed him before. Many, many times. They were posing as a steady couple, after all, and physical affection was an important part of selling that. Neither was he a terrible kisser, so it wasn’t exactly a burden. But they had a procedure. He was supposed to telegraph or explicitly ask her — in an appropriately romantic way — ahead of time. That way she could act appropriately. As it was she froze for a moment before relaxing against him and responding, and she had to hope that Aston and Patricia were too drunk to notice the lapse.
But she could handle that surprise, annoying as it was. What she could not handle was the way she, a couple of seconds in, suddenly felt faint. The way her knees went weak. It was like the world had dropped out beneath her, and Nic was the only point of stability that existed. Was she—? No. Surely not? She had kissed a lot of people, and she would be damned if this brat—
Ana's hands hit the floor hard, the air leaving her lungs with a pained gasp. She hadn’t even known that she was falling, but Nic took the brunt of it. She felt something cold and smooth against her hands, nothing like the pavement she would have expected, and when she checked her surroundings, everything was wrong. It was dark. There were no streetlights, though she could see the flickering lights of small fires — torches? — nearby, which lit up a faint haze in the air. They were surrounded by tall standing stones, and beyond those, trees, and the air smelled like pine and leaves, ozone and sulfur.
This was all wrong.
Alright, she told herself. Stay calm. Assess the situation.
First, the client. Nic was under her, out cold, but looking otherwise unharmed. With any luck he wouldn’t throw up and drown himself before she could figure this out.
Second, the situation. Outside the city. No idea what happened, and no immediate way to figure that out. Drugs? Gas? Leave it for later.
Third, threat assessment.
“It worked! It worked! I told him I could do it!” came a mad, high-pitched cackle from somewhere to her left. She freed her hands from under Nic and pushed herself up to her knees. Her wrists and elbows felt fine, so she probably hadn't injured anything. Good.
“Go!” the voice chortled. “Take the boy and tie him up, then reset the ritual! Soon—”
“My lord,” came a different, lower voice. “There’s two of them!”
“What?” said the first voice. Sitting up, Anasta
“As you say, my lord,” said a third voice. Ana did not like the leer implicit in his tone at all.
As two of the figures began to approach, Ana pulled out the very illegal semi-automatic pistol she kept in her purse, racked it and flicked off the safety with a practiced motion, and trained it on them. “Stop right there, or I will shoot,” she said, making sure to be loud and clear. No room for misinterpretation. One of the men hesitated, looking confused but not afraid, and they came on. She gave them two more steps to change their minds.
The pistol barked and bucked in her hand, the comfortable, acrid smell of propellant quickly crowding out the scents of the forest. Eight-seven, six-five, she counted silently. Five rounds left. The man on the left stopped on the spot, looking down with a confused moan before he dropped. The other continued forward. The pistol barked again, and he fell six feet from her and Nic. Four rounds left.
“Stay where you are,” Ana ordered the third figure. With her pistol trained on him, she slowly got to her feet.
“What—?” the figure said, then seemed to recover. “Useless thugs,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself, as Ana circled to get a better look at her opponent. “Have to do everything myself…”
With the light no longer directly behind the man, Ana could see that he was fairly old. He had a neatly trimmed, gray beard, and was wearing a fancy robe of some sort, like he’d just come from a costume party. That mattered little, however, as he reached to his belt and drew what was, unmistakably, a long, thin sword.
“Drop it,” Ana instructed him. “I will not warn you again.”
“Foolish girl,” the man sneered and took a step forward. “What those two would have done to you will pale —”
Three-two-one. Two in the chest, one in the head, just like Mr. Stamper taught her. One round left. Nine more in the mag in her purse.
There was a blue shimmer around the man as the first bullet hit him. Then he dropped like someone had flipped his switch to “off,” his sword clattering to the ground.
Ana’s vision blurred slightly around the edges. She blinked as she approached each of the fallen men, checking for a pulse before proceeding to the next. The blurriness didn’t seem to want to go away, so she rolled her eyes while blinking hard, which sometimes worked. When her eyes reached either lower diagonal direction, text scrolled into her vision.
Congratulations! You have defeated: Human Summoner (22), Human Cultist (10), Human Cultist (12). You have been awarded: Growth Crystal (Major), Growth Crystal (Minor), Growth Crystal (Lesser).
Attention: Growth Crystals are set to auto-consume. You have been awarded 1100 Experience Points.
Congratulations! You have reached Guardian Angel, Level 3. 6 cumulative Advancement Points awarded.
You have joined the Party of Anastasia Cole, Human Companion (3).
When she read that line, the world stopped. Her vision was completely filled by a translucent field of information. She couldn’t hear, smell, or feel anything. She couldn’t move, frozen in a crouch with her hand on the neck of the old guy with the sword. She couldn’t even breathe, but after a few moments she realized that she didn’t feel a need to. It was literally as though time had stopped, except for her mind.
Advancement initialized. System insertion detected. Partial calibration performed. Multiple incompatible Skills detected. Incompatible Skills not included in Summary.
INDIVIDUAL SUMMARY
Name: Anastasia Cole
Race: Outsider, Summoned (Human aspect)
Age: 26
Classes: Guardian Angel (3) (Hidden, shown as Companion (3))
Experience: 400/800
Attributes: Base Multiplier Effective
Strength 14 1 14
Endurance 16 1 16
Vitality 15 1 15
Agility 18 1 18
Dexterity 15 1 15
Perception 13 1 13
Acuity 13 1 13
Willpower 15 1 15
Charisma 18 1 18
Connection 13 1 13
Advancement Points: 6
Abilities:
Hidden Class (Guardian Angel) (Guardian Angel 1)
Guardian Angel (Guardian Angel 1)
Devotion (Guardian Angel 1)
Danger Sense (Special) (Guardian Angel 3)
Skills:
Command 2
Inspect 1
You have 6 Advancement Points available. Please spend Advancement Points now!
“What kind of nerd shit is this?” Ana grumbled silently to herself. For which might have been the first time in her life she wished that Nic was awake, and that she could ask him if he knew what was going on. He understood this stuff. He’d even drag her along when he played his pretend games with his nerd friends, and she'd be the picture of polite disinterest, looking pretty while playing with her phone.
To be fair, they had all had fun, nobody got too drunk, and none of them had ever tried to feel her up. All in all, those nights were among the better social events Nic had taken her to, much better than when he went out with his friends from "college."
You have 6 Advancement Points available. Please spend Advancement Points now!
She still couldn’t move. The text wanted her to do something and she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be free until she did it, but she had no idea how.
“How do I do that?” she tried to say, but thinking it seemed to be enough. “What are these points?”
Advancement Points are earned by gaining Class Levels, or by completing certain Achievements. Advancement Points must be spent if possible when opening the Individual Summary. Advancement Points are used to increase Attribute Multipliers, at ten percentage points per Multiplier Step, and a cost equal to the Multiplier Step you wish to buy. Each Step must be bought in order.
“Alright,” she sighed mentally. “Boost my fucking… perception, I guess, as much as possible, and let me try to fix this.”
Perception Multiplier increased to 1.3 for a total of 6 Advancement Points. New Effective Perception: 16.9.
You have no Advancement Points to spend. Advancement finalized.
She could finally move again. She quickly walked back to Nic. He still lay exactly where she'd left him, not having reacted to the gunshots at all. When she got closer, she saw why.
There was a dark patch spreading slowly around Nic's head. He was breathing, but when she lifted his eyelids he didn't react. He didn't focus. His pupils were unevenly dilated, which was a really bad sign, and when she shone her phone’s flashlight into his eye, nothing happened. When she pressed hard on his nail beds, he didn't so much as twitch.
With a sinking feeling Ana reached one hand around the back of Nic's head and probed gently. His skull gave a little in a way that a skull is definitely not supposed to.
"Shit," Ana hissed to herself, digging out her iPhone from her purse. No signal. She dug Nic's phone out of his jacket, holding it up to his face to unlock it. Same problem. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Nic's dad, her employer, was not going to like this at all. And for all that he loved his son and took good care of his employees, Carl Stamper was a very, very bad man. She had known that since the night she met him. It had been pretty obvious. Good men did not have a habit of helping teenage street rats cover up crimes, especially when that crime was stabbing a man to death behind an IHOP.
The dead man had robbed her, smacked her around, and was probably intending to do worse, but still.
Mr. Stamper had been good to her. He'd helped her get her GED, had taught her or had her taught all kinds of things, and even helped her move to the UK to work for him. For years, he'd been like the father she'd never had. But that wouldn't stop him from feeding her to his pigs when he found out that his precious boy had gotten brain damaged on her watch. She wasn’t exaggerating, either. Protecting VIPs wasn’t all he did. He’d never asked Ana to help out with the less legal side of his business, but she knew all about it.
