Blessed Fury: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Angels of Fate Book 1)

by C. S. Wilde

  “No one has access to that department, not even the Messenger, the Throne, and the Sword. They sign off on reincarnation requests, but after that …” She shrugged. “You were born like every other human on Earth, but how that came to be? I don’t think anyone in the entire Order knows. Other than the SRD, that is.”

  “Hmm.” He observed her through narrowed eyes. “Anyway, I might not remember my time as an angel, but I try to be good.” He scratched his forehead. “Mostly because of Archie. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Probably in a really fucked up place.”

  A fog of longing and sadness brushed against Ava’s essence, and she wished to blow it away. But only Liam could do that, at least on the long-term.

  Short-term, however …

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “No Guardian feel-good bullshit. I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t, but Ava always respected her charge’s will.

  She looked down at her food, which to Liam’s credit, looked worse than it tasted. Heavens, she missed the buffet at the Order, where she could fetch anything her stomach desired: eggs, sausages, pancakes, even tapioca or pho-bo. All the world’s cuisines were mankind’s gift to the Gods.

  Ava ate her breakfast faster than she’d expected. She must’ve been starving.

  “Are you sure you’re in this with me, princess?” Liam said without paying her any attention, his focus solely on finishing the last bite of his pancake. “There’s still time to back out.”

  “You’re my partner. My first duty is to you, always.” She reached for his hand and grabbed it. “Besides, I’m a Guardian. I don’t back away from my charges.”

  No matter how hard getting through to them may be.

  She nodded to his empty plate. “You’re finished?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her, his eyes soft.

  She swung her fingers in the air, and their plates floated toward the sink. Her jaw hung open as she watched the uncluttered area. “You cleaned the dishes?”

  “Thought I should before you complained again.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t get used to it.”

  She raised her hands in mocking surrender. “I won’t.”

  Ava set the two plates down in the sink and spun the handle, all with her mind. Water poured from the faucet as soap floated toward the plates, and soon, a brush started cleaning them.

  She felt a pang at the back of her head, but it wasn’t unbearable. Not yet. Lifting the plates didn’t demand the same effort as the table back at the pub, but if Ava did this longer than a few seconds, the dreaded after-effects of using a power that didn’t belong to a Guardian would take over.

  “I still can’t figure out how you do this,” Liam muttered to himself.

  Truth be told, neither could she. If not the Gods, than who’d given her telekinesis?

  The thought made her head hurt even more, so she changed the subject. “What’s the plan?”

  Liam stood and went to his bedroom. “We go to the precinct,” he said as he disappeared beyond his door.

  After a moment, he walked back into the living room wearing a black shirt that clung to his chiseled form. He took the black leather jacket from the coat rack and put it on.

  He had fixed his sun dagger on the left side of his belt and the silver Archangel sword on the right. Liam had taken his weapons with him before going to bed—either he was very protective of them, or he didn’t trust Ava. She guessed the second.

  In time, she told herself. The Selfless were known for being suspicious. Tricks of the trade, she supposed.

  “Have you ever been to a precinct?” he asked as he patted the gun hidden underneath his jacket, almost as if making sure he hadn’t forgotten it.

  She cleared her throat. “This would be my first time.”

  “You’ll like it.” His lips hooked on the left side of his face as he eyed Ava up and down, his attention entirely hers.

  Heat flushed to her cheeks, and she became extremely aware of her bare legs. A part of her wished to pull down the shirt to cover more skin, but another part wanted, needed him to see her. All of her.

  Before she could move or speak, Liam shook his head the way one dismisses a thought. A frown creased his forehead as he said, “You should get dressed.”

  The Selfless precinct—which Liam called the Nine Five—resembled the human police stations Ava had seen while working as a Guardian. Desks towered with paperwork lined the vast space, and people hurried everywhere as the ringing of phones created background noise.

  A pair of tough-looking Selfless wearing brown leather jackets brought in a vampire woman. Red lines tracked down the edges of her mouth, and the typical stench of rotting blood wafted from her body. Definitely a newly turned. New vampires reeked of coagulated blood, while ancient ones stank of termite excrement. Ava knew this because she had crossed plenty of In-Betweens while working as a Guardian—luckily, they rarely attacked when unprovoked.

  The fang marks on the woman’s neck proved she hadn’t died before being bitten; that she hadn’t made the choice. Yes, this woman had been turned by another vampire.

  She trembled, her eyes dazed. Her entire body looked sunken, as if her bones were about to collapse in on themselves. The newly turned couldn’t control the hunger, especially if their makers didn’t stay to help the transition. And this particular vampire must’ve been starving before attacking some poor soul—hence her nearly skeleton-like figure and the blood in her mouth.

  The Selfless duo showed the vampire no mercy, pushing her toward a row of cells near a big window. Ava frowned at that. Sunlight didn’t hurt older vampires, but it could be extremely unpleasant to their newborn, especially one this weak.

  Much to her relief, the Selfless put the woman in a cell with no direct sunlight. They were angels after all, and angels abhorred cruelty.

  The dress code in the Nine Five seemed to be a leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers—sometimes black military boots. She saw it on the Selfless who engaged in chitchat around the water cooler, in the ones who made phone calls or typed into their computers, and the ones who paced around the precinct dressed the same way too.

  As she and Liam moved forward, Ava looked down at her white bodysuit, the belt and linen kilt, knowing she’d draw attention. Sure enough, the voices dimmed and all eyes fell on her.

  Men and women nodded at Liam as they passed the rows of desks, but when the Selfless looked at Ava, their mouths twisted in a bitter way.

  “Sorry, princess,” he whispered, “but the guys are upset with high command for leaving a fellow angel out to dry.”

  “I understand,” she said. “I have no issue with being the focus of their anger. Having a face to blame can help with their healing process.”

  “Even though you didn’t do anything wrong?” He stopped and frowned. It was the most glorious sight, that puzzled look on his flawless face.

  She shrugged. “That’s unimportant.”

  “Hmm, curious ...” He observed her a little longer, a hint of amusement hidden in the corner of his lips. Then he kept heading toward the office at the end of the room.

  The glass door and glass windows were closed by shutters so no one could see what happened inside. Just as they were about to reach the door, a voice came from behind, “Oy, Liam!”

  A red-haired boy in his early twenties—skinny like a stick and with freckles spread all over the bridge of his nose—caught up to them. His eyes were glistening, and his skin flushed. “We have to bring Archie back,” he demanded more than said, completely ignoring Ava.

  Liam patted the boy on the shoulder. “Kev, I promise you I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “And bring Archie back, yeah?”

  Liam gave him a broken glance that shifted quickly to his own boots. “I’ll try.”

  The boy nodded, his lips pressed into a confident grin. “If anyone can bring him back, it’s you, mate.”

  Grief and guilt oozed from Liam in c
old clouds that brushed against Ava’s essence. He knew no one could bring Archie back, and the boy must know this too; he simply couldn’t handle the fact right now.

  “The Messenger assigned me a new partner for the time being.” Liam cleared his throat and turned to Ava. “This is Ava, hmm, what’s your last name again?”

  “Lightway.”

  The boy frowned. “Archie is Liam’s partner.” He observed her with curled lips. “A fuckin’ Guardian? The Messenger lost his fuckin’ mind, heh? I mean, her name’s Lightweight for the Gods’ sake!”

  “Lightway,” she corrected, using her best Guardian voice, the smooth monotone that always appeased her charges. “And I’m not here to replace Archibald. I’m only here to help.”

  The boy kept squinting at her but addressed Liam. “Mate, if they were gonna pair you with a lower angel, the least they could do was give you a Warrior instead of a fuckin’ Guardian.”

  “Kev, go easy on her,” Liam said, even though he had told Ava the exact same when they’d first met. “You used to be a Dominion before being reborn, so that means you guys are on the same team, right?”

  The boy shrugged. “Dominions are ascended angels, mate. We’re more useful than a clueless third-tier.”

  Something burning swirled in Ava’s chest. She was tired of being underestimated just because she was a Guardian, the most harmless of all lower angels. If she was so useless, Ezra wouldn’t have assigned her this mission. She trusted his judgement above all else, and she would make him proud whether this boy believed in her or not.

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” she said, immediately chiding herself for the bitterness in her tone.

  The boy, however, seemed pleasantly surprised. “Not like most Guardians, are we?” He grinned at her in an all-knowing manner. “No offense, love, but you lot only make people happy. Wait, not even that; you simply soothe them with your weak light. Also, your shields are pitiful. Guardians are only useful when they ascend to Dominions, like myself.”

  “I’ll remind you that you’re a Selfless right now, not the Dominion you used to be,” Ava countered through gritted teeth.

  “True.” The boy waved his hand up and down, showcasing her to Liam. “That doesn’t change the fact that they gave you a fuckin’ kitty, mate.”

  Heavens, the boy was blunt. Ava couldn’t decide if this annoyed her or amused her. Maybe both.

  Liam cleared his throat and a flock of black hair fell over his forehead. “She can move stuff with her mind, Kev,” he said quietly.

  The boy raised his brow at her. “Call me intrigued, love.”

  “It’s not much,” Ava said shyly. “My Erudite friend taught me how to do it.”

  “Odd.” The boy tapped his chin with his fingers. “You shouldn’t be able to use telekinesis or telepathy, even if only a bit. It’s not a part of your Guardian essence.”

  Ava shrugged, which was the only explanation she had. Justine had never found this odd, but then again, Justine knew less about angelic matters than Ava did.

  The boy observed her a little longer, then took her hand and shook it. “Name’s Kevin, by the way.”

  She bowed her head to him. “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”

  “Didn’t know Guardians could lie so well, love.”

  She winked at him. “We’re a box of surprises, aren’t we?”

  A smile bloomed on Kevin’s face, and he slapped Liam’s chest with the back of his hand. “Oooh, I like her, mate.”

  Ava’s partner rolled his eyes and then nodded to the closed room. “Captain’s busy?”

  “Give her time. You know how much Archie meant to her.” Kevin turned to an empty desk at the far right, and sadness grew thick in the air around him. “To all of us,” he muttered.

  “Speaking of which,” Liam said, “can you run Archie’s call logs from the last five days? Last I saw him, we’d encountered a vampire who claimed someone was tampering with wolfsugar and stealing the vamps’ blood supplies.”

  Kevin’s brow crinkled. “Why would someone do that?”

  “To increase In-Between attacks on humans.”

  “Hmm, and then the Order would strike them without mercy,” Kevin added with a nod. “It’s a lead, I guess. I’m working on the logs already, but they’re blocked and encrypted.”

  “You think Archie did this?”

  “Very likely, but I can’t tell for sure.” Kevin shook his head. “If he did, though, it means he didn’t want anyone following his footsteps.”

  A flash of sorrow swam across Liam’s features. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “Quite right.” Kevin bowed slightly to Ava before returning to his desk at the corner of the large common room.

  Liam tapped Ava on her shoulder and motioned her to follow him. They took an elevator near the exit that led them underground.

  “Do you think the surge of In-Between attacks is being caused by someone?” she asked, still getting used to Liam’s theory. She’d heard faintly that the number of attacks on humans had grown, hushed whispers within the Order’s halls.

  Liam leaned against the gray elevator’s wall. “All I know is that it’s a smart way to annihilate the In-Betweens without getting hands dirty. But why someone would want to do that … no idea.”

  The elevator opened to a long cement corridor lined with enormous training rooms that resembled those used in the Order. Big windows showcased ceilings at least three stories high.

  Ava knocked on a window, and a surge of power reverberated through her bones. The glass had been blessed, which meant it could withstand strong impacts such as the blast of a holy gun or an Archangel’s punch.

  Back in the Order, the training rooms were all white, and the ambiance could be programmed to any desired setting: rain, desert, bursting volcano, or freezing Antarctica; the options were endless. She had never fought in one, only accompanied Justine as an audience because her friend was always flirting with a Warrior—the “cute fight-club types,” as Justine used to call them.

  Here, however, the walls and floors were padded and dark blue. Ava doubted the Selfless could choose any ambiance. Ropes hung from the ceiling, and parallel bars stood stacked on the left end of the room along with balance beams and pommel horses, which Ava assumed worked as obstacles during training.

  It didn’t seem fair that the Selfless precincts had less resources than the Order. After all, the Selfless were protecting humans, more so than any other angel. Even worse, their bodies were weaker—stronger than the average human, certainly, but weaker than an angel’s.

  Perhaps Selfless was a more appropriate name than she had assumed.

  Liam entered the last training room and withdrew his silver and blue sword. “Now, princess, I did promise your boyfriend I’d show you how to use one of these.”

  Ava froze, then glanced down at Ezra’s golden and white sword sheathed on the belt around her waist.

  Gods, give me strength.

  9

  Ava

  Her new partner showed Ava how to steady her base, then proceeded to the basics of sword fighting. Block, charge, turn. Slash.

  It was hard at first, but the few lessons she’d had during initiation soon bloomed to memory. After one hour, Ava managed to keep a decent base and a good defensive stance, which she counted as a small victory.

  Next, Liam told her to run thirty laps around the room. Having the endurance of angels helped, but Ava barely managed to complete the last lap. Her legs hurt, and so did her lungs.

  Liam tapped the back of her calf with his foot. “Sixty more.”

  “Demons in the hells,” she blurted, immediately making a note to pray for forgiveness later. Blasphemy wasn’t a terrible sin, but it was a sin nonetheless.

  Liam showed her no empathy. He simply nodded ahead in a clear command for her to go on. And so she did.

  When Ava finished the last lap, her legs caved and she fell on the floor, panting, her chest heaving up and down. Sweat coated her entire body. />
  Liam gave her a ridiculously short moment to recover before bending over and offering her his hand. “Resting time’s over, princess.”

  “I’m not a harmless princess.” Never breaking eye contact, she got up by herself. Her legs shook with a fury, but they didn’t let her down.

  He gave her a mocking grin. “I never said harmless.”

  She smacked a loud slap on his shoulder. Ava didn’t approve of unnecessary violence, but this had been extremely necessary. And it’d felt good.

  Liam faked an “ouch” with that unnervingly perfect grin still stamped on his face. “You might be a Guardian, but there’s something wild and untamed burning in there.” He pointed at her forehead, squinting as if he were searching for something.

  She straightened her stance. “You barely know me.”

  “I’m good at reading people.” He rubbed the spot she had hit. “Also, you just harmed your charge and that makes my point.”

  “Well, my charge deserved it,” she said, crossing her arms.

  A laugh burst from his throat, a genuine, earthy sound that made Ava want to smile too. “Touché, princess.”

  Liam steadied his base in a clear cue for her to do the same. He then unsheathed his sword and acquired an attacking stance. So did Ava.

  “What’s the story behind this sword?” She nodded to the weapon.

  Liam glanced at his silver blade, which even under the training room’s burning LED lights emitted a dim glow. “It’s Archangel Michael’s sword. It was a gift from Archie.”

  Ava’s weapon dropped to the padded floor, and her jaw almost followed. “You can’t be serious.”

  He nodded at her fallen sword, one eyebrow raised. “Do this during a battle and you’re dead.”

  She blinked and quickly picked up her weapon, steadying her stance. “How?”

  “I guess Archie had contacts in high places.” He shrugged. “The transfer of ownership went through the legal requirements, by the way. Archie didn’t steal the sword, which is what most of you think when you see me with it.”