Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1)

by Cathrina Constantine

  He knelt beside a cringing Seeley. Pushing back the curls that screened her lovely face, he planted a numbing kiss on her temple. Wet lips trailed across her cheekbone to bite her bottom lip. “Be a good girl and wait for me.”

  WHAT CAN MERE MORTALS DO TO

  ME AS I BATHE MY FEET IN THE

  BLOOD OF THE WICKED

  MARKUS DECELERATED NEAR a three-story colonial manor fortified with a concrete barrier. The area was desolate, with no other residence in sight.

  “Are we here?” questioned Jordan.

  “Yes.”

  “What are we waiting for?”

  “Ezekiel.” Reaching into his pocket, Markus pulled out a small bottle. “Here” He placed the blessed water in her hand.

  Periodically, he turned on the wipers to clear the windshield. A ting sounded on the car’s roof as the rain evolved into hail pellets.

  Fraught with anxiety and not knowing what lurked beyond those walls, Jordan spurred her courage. Mom needs me. Tonight, we rid the world of the man who murdered my Dad. That seemed like bitter compensation as darkness overcame them. Her teeth chattered as a numbing frost adhered to her bones.

  “Are you all right? No, of course you’re not,” he said, intensifying the hard lines of his mouth. “I should’ve taken you home. I’m an idiot.”

  Jordan was about to object when Ezekiel materialized in the backseat. In human form, he looked like the Grim Reaper in a black trench coat with his ebony hair branching out on his wide shoulders. He glared under his heavy brow.

  “It was a bad idea to bring her here.” His voice was cold, lacking discretion. “I don’t care what Ronan said.”

  “I know, but she would’ve followed. Then who knows what would’ve happened? At least this way we can keep an eye on her.”

  “What did Ronan say?” Jordan turned from Ezekiel to Markus. “You’re keeping secrets again.”

  Disregarding Jordan, Ezekiel sighed. “I’m not convinced that we’ll be able to free Seeley without additional power. It’s possible Jordan will be an asset in some destined way. On the other hand, her presence could prove detrimental.”

  “Hey, guys—” Detrimental my foot. “I’m right here and I plan to help. And one of you should have told Father James, we could use reinforcements.”

  “I did. He’s with us, in spirit.”

  “Let’s go,” Markus ordered.

  “You said Ronan’s working on the barrier, I couldn’t get in earlier,” Ezekiel said.

  “Let’s pray it’s possible by now.” Markus pushed wild hair from his forehead. “It might be advantageous to remain human.”

  “I disagree. We should breakthrough the main barrier, then transform to our human state. Lucifer’s enmeshed a web over the mansion.” Ezekiel’s tone was adamant. “Once inside, I don’t know if we’ll be able to escape unless Ronan has reduced the enchantments. We will last longer in human form.”

  “Aren’t you stronger as angels?” Jordan asked.

  “The unbearable evil may eliminate our strength rather quickly.” Ezekiel’s stony glance started a new wave of shivers.

  “But as humans you might die?” Her head swung back and forth between them.

  Neither one spoke.

  “Markus told me how sin grinds angels raw,” she said, “though angelic power could get us in and out awfully quick. That’s your plan?”

  “We cannot foresee the future,” Ezekiel said, features drawn. “Asa more than likely waits for us with a few unearthly tricks. Although, he won’t expect Ronan, his new protégé to knock down his defenses.”

  Jordan peered at Markus. “I can’t very well turn to spirit and materialize on the other side.”

  “You’re staying here.” Markus’s tolerant eyes flashed, giving one last order.

  “No way.”

  “Trebane’s setting a trap for you,” Ezekiel said, exacerbating his darkening facade. “Your mother’s the bait.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” she argued. “Besides, as soon as you leave, I’ll be out this door in a snap.”

  “Markus, keep her close.” Ezekiel surrendered. “I’ll fly in, you follow.” He disappeared.

  “Let’s go.”

  Markus lobbed Jordan over the brick barrier and alighted on the snowy ground next to her. Ducking from tree trunk to tree trunk, he seemed to be assessing the towering residence. They rested by a two-story ornamental trellis, then he hoisted her up, and swiftly scaled past her. He grasped a window ledge and flew a few feet to a balcony.

  Wish I could fly. Jordan clung to the trellis and reached for his outstretched, aiding hand. He swung her up to stand next to him. He then jarred the locked window and sent her sprawling inside before gracefully leaping in. She instantly felt the force field prickling her skin.

  MANIFESTING NEXT TO Seeley, Ezekiel’s face contorted, feeling the sting as well. Ronan’s incantations helped, but the depravity remained.

  “Zeke, I thought you’d never come.” Seeley rushed into his arms.

  Zeke held her off, examining her bruised face. “Let’s go.” Cupping the locked doorknob, he simply tore it from the hinges. The splintering alerted the household.

  Seeley shadowed him in the diffused light. They peered over the banister, and in a hushed voice, she said, “It’s a trap for Jordan.” She confirmed his suspicions. “Asa’s fixated on her coming here. He intends to perform the consecration.”

  Zeke descended the marble staircase. “This is too easy,” he whispered. Halfway down, he heard a thump from the second floor. “Markus and Jordan are here.”

  “No, she can’t be here.” She turned, ready to bolt towards her daughter. “We have to warn them.”

  Zeke filched her wrist, halting her. “The house is a menagerie. We’d be overtaken by the time we found them.”

  Suddenly, a lancing spell struck Ezekiel in the chest, blasting him off his feet. His body crashed against the wall, shaking the house to its foundation. He crumpled and tumbled down the stairwell like a sack of potatoes. With no idea where the spell had come from, Seeley pelted down the stairs after the falling angel.

  Ezekiel collected his strength just as an infestation of plundering demons stormed him. Reaching upward, fingers splayed, he prayed for a heavenly weapon. A glimmering sickle used for harvesting appeared. Zeke seized it and carved his way through the cursed creatures, feinting and striking on all sides. A gunshot rang out. With a flick of his wrist, he sent forth lightning. The bullets melted in midair.

  Seeley executed a heel-jerking jolt to a demon’s kneecap. She felt and heard the crunch of bone. The thing slouched to the floor.

  A maniacal creature scurried up Ezekiel’s back. Teeth, sharpened like shards of glass, chomped the side of his neck, gnashing a hunk of flesh. Bloodstained teeth glistened as the creature opened its mouth to bite again. Ezekiel reached back with the handle of the sickle, striking it in the head, but the creature stuck like superglue.

  Focusing her mind, Seeley hurled a range of objects at it. One by one, copper icons flew off the wall and clobbered the creature, sending it spooling off Zeke. She mentally gripped more sculptures, impelling them to crush demon skulls. From the depths of gloom, a pernicious entity surfaced, its wicked aura spread over them, blocking her telekinesis.

  “Mom!”

  Whipping her head toward the sound, Seeley detected Jordan and Markus on the second-floor landing, besieged by a bedlam of soulless demons. Moving fluidly, Markus heaved two screeching demons over the banister. Headfirst, they crashed with an ugly thunk, and grainy chunks of brain spewed over the white marble.

  Aware of mind-splitting incantations, Seeley covered her ears to thwart Asa’s psychic influence. She searched for the elusive sorcerer, determined to eliminate him.

  Out of nowhere, a torrent of scorching flames surrounded Zeke Caught in the hex, nearby demons combusted in the hellfire. On the verge of blocking the flames, Veronka, dressed in patent black leather, ambushed Seeley.

  “GET BEHIND ME,” M
arkus said to Jordan. A cadaverous beast lunged for the girl. He ripped its pea head from its neck. The possessed carcass, groped like a headless chicken, percolating gore until Markus booted it down the staircase. He sheltered Jordan from a torrent of descending creatures. Never one to go down without a fight, Jordan skillfully kicked and dodged, repelling a few gnarly characters on her own.

  No demon could outmatch Markus. He parried to the right and left without any weaponry, other than his mighty hands. As he exchanged blows with the never-ending tide of enemies, Jordan sensed his pain and weariness through their inner bond.

  Like her mother, Jordan used her mind, flinging demons over the banister. Unexpected fingers banded her neck, a sneaky predator reeking of excrement held her from behind. Feeling around for the bottle of holy water, she fumbled with the lid. She sprinkled her assailant, and its fingers slackened and juddered with a wordless open-mouthed scream; the predator smoldered. Its eyeballs melted and then combusted like a match head, adding more tang to the putrefied air.

  She leaned over the banister, pouring holy water on malevolent creatures below.

  “Jordan, smother that fire and release Ezekiel,” Markus hollered.

  At that moment, Jordan saw Veronka attack her mom, and unable to concentrate, she faltered. Her hesitation was their downfall, and she was snatched from behind again. A butcher knife hugged her chest with the tip pricking her chin. Peppery breath brushed her neck as Asa backed her toward the wall.

  An invincible Markus forged ahead, matching him.

  “I have no qualms about sticking this blade through her throat and consecrating Jordan here,” Asa threatened. “I’d prefer a stupendous ceremony, but what must be, will be.” Raising his hand, he unleashed a flare of magic, propelling Markus over the banister.

  Jordan shrieked, and at the same time, felt the blade cut her chin. A spark flared. Markus had transformed and landed on his feet in front of them.

  “You won’t last long in that state,” Asa heckled.

  Markus stood his ground, flinty eyes focused on Asa and the knife—calculating, waiting.

  Aware of her angel’s waning strength, she fought to wiggle free and was amazed by Asa’s inescapable grip. He met her resistance with a flick of the knife to her throat.

  As the gash squirted blood, Markus gasped.

  Believing the angel would protect her at all costs, Asa freed her and whispered a hex. Startled, she sailed up and over the banister. Markus lunged, snagging her wrist. Jordan dangled precariously.

  Seeley’s panicked cries added to the upheaval as she watched Jordan hanging in the air. Markus yanked her upward, and sensing Asa’s presence, flung her protectively on his far side. She landed on all fours and watched the gruesome act.

  By diverting Jordan’s angel, Asa had created an opportunity. After rescuing her, Markus began to morph, garnering strength. While vulnerable amidst angelic and human form, Asa expertly impaled him. The lethal razor-edged knife severed Markus, and Asa relinquished the blade in his gut.

  Jordan’s bone-chilling scream announced the tragedy. She felt as if she’d been gutted along with her angel. Markus gripped the hilt with trembling fingers. Baring his teeth in excruciating pain, he withdrew the blade. It slipped from his hands, clunking to the floor.

  Asa shrank back, face drained of color, fearing the angel’s inexorable strength. Markus lashed out a bloodied hand, catching the man’s chest and toppling him over the banister. Markus staggered and fell to his knees, gaping at the wound. The laceration flowed like a streaming gully.

  The mansion quaked. An emergence of warrior angels descended. With devastating efficiency, each exterminated a demon and then escaped the wickedness. Like guerrilla warfare, more came, and one by one, fought the beasts. Witnessing their supremacy, Veronka fled.

  Seeley used her power to part the fire, and Zeke flew to her side. Amid shrieks of beaten legions, they bounded up the stairwell, racing for Jordan.

  Markus was on his knees, his back to them. Blood pooling on the floor, he slumped forward.

  Jordan crawled to him, whimpering, “Markus, Markus, Markus…”

  Ezekiel knelt, gently rolled him over, and grimaced at the mortal wound.

  Seeley gasped.

  Jordan bent over Markus, and his fathomless eyes gazed into hers. The corner of his lip twitched, attempting a smile as his lids fluttered.

  “Don’t leave me, Markus. Don’t leave me.” Her eyes, drowning in tears, washed his face. “Markus, you can’t die. You can’t.”

  Ezekiel gripped the hand of his fallen friend, his stouthearted facade thawing.

  The ruckus had stopped, leaving the mansion disconcertingly noiseless. Blinking watery eyes, Jordan and Seeley beheld an unbelievable sight. A shower of blinding effulgence was overwhelming as lucent angels surrounded them. A heavenly song, beautiful beyond description graced their ears.

  Markus’s countenance altered. His body became dazzling white. The angels appeared to be ministering to him. He merged with their sheer incandescence and vanished, along with the celestial beings.

  “No! No!” Jordan cried out. “Markus.”

  Seeley clung to her weeping daughter.

  A shaken Ezekiel swayed to his feet. “We must leave quickly before they regroup.”

  He grappled with the two lamenting woman. Practically carrying them, he barreled down the stairwell and out of the mansion.

  I WILL GRIEVE AND COMPLAIN

  SUFFERING FROM TOTAL despair, Jordan had buried herself in bed and muffled weeping was a nightly occurrence. Seeley checked the time on her phone. Besides being after three in the morning, she’d seen another voicemail. Without even listening, she erased the apology from Declan who, wholly confused, explained the night had been one big blur. She needed to let him go, or else he’d be used as a pawn in her surreal life again.

  To weigh her options she’d taken a leave of absence from work. Deficient in courage to speak to him in person, she feared facing Declan. She’d be in his arms in less than a second. Give it time. He’ll get fed up and stop calling, or I’ll come up with some lame excuse about why he isn’t right for me.

  She padded to her daughter’s room and gathered Jordan into her arms. She rocked her until her sobbing ceased and felt her intermittent tremors. In the advent of a new day, a variable light excelled in the shadows.

  Jordan must’ve sensed the angel’s presence because she sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Markus?”

  When the angel Ezekiel formed, she flopped onto the mattress.

  “Did they find Asa’s body yet?” Seeley asked Zeke.

  “He’s alive,” he said dispassionately. “Beaten and downtrodden, but alive.”

  “How’d he survive that fall? I saw Markus fling him over the rail.”

  “Yes, but we didn’t see him hit the ground. No doubt Asa’s sorcery saved him.”

  “I want him dead.” Jordan’s tone was toxic. “He shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

  Seeley believed her daughter felt eviscerated. Markus had been a part of her.

  Ezekiel’s gaze skirted Seeley and settled on Jordan. “Soon, she’ll feel better and return to school,” he said. “I didn’t want her to be alarmed, so I came to tell you both, Rafe has been assigned to her.”

  A shimmering spirit stood beside Zeke: A familiar angel with brown eyes and coppery hair. Then he changed, becoming Markus.

  “Markus?” Seeley sounded astonished.

  Jordan leapt from the bed, calling out, “Markus,” and flew into his arms.

  “No, this is Rafe,” Ezekiel stated. “That’s why I’m warning you. He’ll look like Markus until the end of the school year, and then ‘Mark’ will move on.”

  Jordan pushed out of his arms. He impersonated Markus so well, except for the remarkable shade of his violet-blue eyes.

  “I don’t need another angel. I don’t want anyone else. Do you understand?”

  “I watched over your father,” Rafe said. “And after—” He paused. “It was hoped
I’d be acceptable.”

  “Yes, I know you. The day Jack died.” Seeley remembered only too well how tenderly Rafe had carried Jack in his arms. “Thank you, Rafe.”

  He offered a humble nod.

  “Why are you thanking him? Dad died. I only want Markus.” An inconsolable Jordan lashed out.

  “I’ll be near.” Ezekiel heaved a dejected sigh and peered at Seeley. “Go to Father James, he’ll help.”

  ENDURING A WEEK of self-pity, Jordan showered and went downstairs. Her grandparents and mother were eating breakfast. Henry labored from his chair and grasped her in a rousing bear hug. Depositing a plate on the table, Em pecked her on the cheek.

  “My, this girl is skinny, momma.” Henry tickled her beneath the ribcage. “We need to put some meat on these bones.”

  Jordan giggled, pulling out of his embrace.

  Em fussed like a mother hen, pouring orange juice and supplying her with fluffy pancakes. Em chatted about the weather, anticipating spring and wondering when her bulbs would flower. Henry harrumphed, foreseeing work ahead. He winked at Jordan, giving her another reason to smile.

  Jordan felt full of contained energy, like a rubber band ready to snap. She had a brilliant notion to pursue in their training, and asked her mom to schedule a workout at Jacob’s studio.

  JORDAN DANCED ON the mats in a relentless fury, bursting with youthful vitality. Springing and bounding, she performed front and back flips and somersaults. She weaved side to side and walloped the punching bag, glad to feel the grating ache.

  She twirled and leapt, booting the bag until it wobbled like a drunken bum, pumping hostility into the innocent bag of straw. Perspiration bathed her hairline, trickled along her temple and cheeks, and dripped off her chin. Wiping a damp brow, she battered the bag with rabbit punches, depleting every ounce of energy.

  Afterwards, Seeley and Jordan sparred with four partners, executing faultless martial art techniques. Rolling, tumbling, and squaring off for over an hour. The grueling sport left Seeley breathless.