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

by C. S. Wilde

  Thick scabs covered the left side of Jal’s face, including his eye. His arm rested in a sling, his grey flannel shirt and pants hiding the burns that covered the left side of his body.

  Jal’s wings were tattered like a leaf ripped in several pieces, but they looked better than they had when he’d brought Liam to this place. A couple of days ago, the demon had been nothing but ripped, burnt flesh and snapped bones.

  “I assumed demons only showed their wings when they wanted to fly, fuck, or show off,” Liam said.

  Jal shot Lilith a playful grin. “Well—”

  “His wings are too damaged to be kept in the darkness,” the vampire explained as she watched a butterfly dance over the gazebo’s railings.

  The demon angled his head and peered at Liam through his good eye. “You know Lilith likes you, right?”

  The vamp huffed with annoyance. “I do not like anyone.” She curled her lips, showcasing her fangs at Liam. “Especially when said someone is an angel.”

  Jal raised his eyebrows at him as if his point had been made.

  “She’s not a favorite of mine either,” Liam said, disgust oozing from his tone.

  His words hurt Lilith; he could see it by the scowl she shot at him.

  Good that she was hurt. She deserved it. Back at the warehouse, Lilith had almost raped him in front of Ava. And he would have let her because he thought he was kissing his Guardian, not the dirty bloodsucker.

  The simple memory of the vamp’s touch irked him.

  Jal showed Liam the one free chair across the table, then turned to Lilith and grinned. “Sorry love, but we’re out of chairs.”

  She gave him a fake grin. “I didn’t want to stay anyway, Jal of Jaipur.”

  Lilith turned to Liam, her lips parting into what felt like an upcoming apology. Instead, she snapped her mouth shut and left.

  “You must forgive her,” Jal said as Liam sat. “It’s hard standing In-Between. Sometimes we tend to one side, sometimes the other. I’m sure she wouldn’t have gone through with it when she glamoured you.”

  Liam smirked. “You’d bet on it?”

  Jal’s grin showcased perfectly white teeth. He had never looked more like a dragon than right then, especially with the black scabs on the left side of his face. “No, I wouldn’t bet on it. Vampires tend to be lustful, so maybe she would’ve fucked your brains out, my friend.”

  “Are we? Friends?”

  “I saved your ass, so yes.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Besides, Archie has always been good to my people, and I have a feeling so will you.”

  “Your people?” Liam snorted. “You’re a demon, Jal. Don’t forget that.”

  “I prefer seeing myself as an honorary In-Between.” He wiggled his brow at Liam.

  “Why?”

  “History,” Jal’s voice was a murmur, his playfulness suddenly gone as he watched the path Lilith had taken to leave, almost as if he could still see her in the air.

  Liam knew when a subject had to be changed. There was a time for everything and this was not the time to prod about the demon’s past. He rested both hands atop the table, intertwining his fingers, then nodded to Jal’s wounds. “You look better.”

  “Don’t lie.” He glanced down at his broken and scabbed arm. “Gabriel did a number on me, but Ava finished the job gloriously. I’ve never seen light like hers. Your partner is something else, isn’t she?”

  Liam smiled to himself, remembering her silky hair sliding through his fingers, her smooth lips, and her delirious moans as she reached her apex beneath him. Three times. Princess was insanely responsive. And Gods, that thing she did with her hips …

  A brooding sensation pierced his chest. Even after all they’d been through, after being so deeply connected with her, Ava had decided to stand beside the Messenger. And sure, maybe Ava’s Guardian instincts forced her to help someone in need, especially someone she considered a friend—Gods knew why. Or maybe Liam simply wasn’t enough for her. Perhaps he was just one of her charges while Ezraphael was the end game.

  He blinked and cleared his throat. “She certainly is.”

  Jal tapped the table the way a judge pounds a gavel, indicating the end of a subject. The demon was more perceptive than he led on.

  “I assume you talked to Jophiel?” Jal asked.

  “I did.” Liam observed him. “Why are you here, Jal?”

  “I guessed that was obvious? Being a demon isn’t what defines me.” He shrugged. “Yes, I was once evil, but if you live as long as I have, the lines become blurred. I mean, it’s not like I’m as good as an angel, but I’m less angry than I used to be.” He leaned forward. “See, angels need to abide by the Order, but demons live in scattered factions. We rarely unite like you do. Which means we’re free in ways you can’t comprehend, and yet, we lack purpose, something beyond wreaking havoc upon angels and mankind.”

  “So that’s what you’re after. Purpose.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “Hmm.” Liam watched the beautiful gardens as he leaned back on his chair. “So you became a part of the Legion.” He motioned to the construction surrounding them.

  Jal blew air through his lips. “I did. Though Jophiel is extremely cautious, which unnerves some of the members.”

  “Like Lilith and Lothar.”

  Jal dropped his gaze to the floor. After a mournful moment, he said, “The wolf man wasn’t all that bad.”

  “I know.” He gave Jal a weary sigh. “Did you at least get what you wanted from the necklace we stole from him?”

  “The vision? Yes.” Jal scratched the back of his neck and accidentally pulled off a piece of scab. He tossed it on the ground with a flick of his finger. “The psychic saw the Order falling everywhere in the world, all of its branches burning with the main headquarters. A mess of war and blood, coated by shrieks of pain and sorrow. Really nasty stuff.”

  Fucking demon. He’d spoken as if the vision had been nothing more than a bad dream.

  “You seem pretty calm about it.”

  “I have the Legion. So do you and Ava.” After a quick silence, Jal tapped the table. “I still owe you a favor.”

  “You saved our lives,” Liam said. “We’re even.”

  Jal rolled his shoulders. “That was on the house.”

  “You do a lot of favors ‘on the house.’ Someone might think you’re going soft, demon.”

  “Oh, but I’m still a creature of the Hells.” Jal growled behind his playful grin, a gurgling sound fitting of a beast. He watched the garden for a while, then took a deep breath. “Archie’s away right now, but he’s also with the Legion.”

  Liam stared at Jal, his mouth half-open. “What?”

  “He is or so I’ve heard.” Jal watched his own fingers. “I haven’t seen him yet. He’s away on a super-secret mission.”

  Liam gulped, his heart beating in his ears. “Then you know who killed him.”

  “All I know is what I told you before: a blessed blade killed Archie—this one I heard through the grapevine, and you’re welcome, by the way.” Liam rolled his eyes, but Jal continued. “I don’t think anyone else knows he’s with the Legion, not even Lilith. Maybe Jophiel knows who Archie’s murderer is, but then again, that Seraph has a tendency for knowing everything.”

  Liam’s fist slammed against the table, making it shake. “Then why the fuck doesn’t he do something about it?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Jal frowned. “If he did, he would start a war. The Legion can’t fight the Order, not yet. Nor do we want to. We’re here to save it.”

  Liam growled in frustration, a sound that resembled Jal’s own draconian grumbles. “Then Jophiel should’ve told me who did it.”

  Jal frowned at him as if Liam had said something really fucking stupid. “I assumed you knew your partner better than anyone else?”

  Realization dawned on him, and it was a sucker-punch to his gut. “Archie asked Jophiel not to tell me.”

  Jal nodded. “As a demon, Archie’s testi
mony is worthless to the Order, which means you’d have no base for punishment. Killing Archie’s murderer would likely get you a death sentence, you know, a very real and final one.”

  “I don’t care.” Liam bit his own teeth. “I’ll kill whoever murdered Archie. Then I’ll run, maybe go to that island he wanted me to live on.”

  He wondered if Ava would join him, but he knew better.

  Jal leaned back in his chair, a pleased grin spreading on his face. “Sounds like a good plan. Make sure to jab your blade twice across their chest for me, will you?”

  “Hells, yes.”

  Liam closed his eyes, inhaling the sharp scent of leaves and flowers, enjoying the absence of car horns and any sounds typical to a city. His heartbeat slowed. He could get used to this. Perhaps in another world, another life, this peace would last.

  “I feel like I should tell you …” Jal’s voice made him open his eyes. The demon took a deep breath, barely looking at Liam as he spoke. “My psychic saw something else through the necklace.”

  “What?”

  Jal parted his lips but no sound came out, as if he had lost the courage to speak. He cleared his throat. “She saw Ava walking toward the sunset with the Messenger by her side.”

  Invisible needles jabbed Liam’s lungs, but he knew Ava would do what she needed to do regardless of how he felt about it. Hells, that determination of hers, that undying will to help others no matter the cost, it’s what had drawn Liam to her in the first place.

  He rubbed his forehead, then dropped his arms on the table. “Yeah, I know. Her duty always comes first, and her duty is to help those who need her. It’s why I …” He trailed off.

  “It seems to me that Ava follows her faith.” He pointed to Liam’s heart. “It’s time you follow yours.”

  30

  Ava

  Ava bent over her knees on the sidewalk, catching her breath. The mansion before her—a palace, really—was massive at three stories high and at least a football field wide. It had an old, crumbling façade, a missing roof, and a dying garden of dried leaves and dark gray earth. Two skyscrapers stood on each side of the mansion, but something seemed off about them. It was almost as if they weren’t there, even though Ava could see them.

  Anyone passing by would dismiss the mansion as abandoned, but a tingling sensation thrummed under Ava’s fingertips. She could feel the rift inside her pushing against the façade and the towers, the molten gold of the light beast trickling into her.

  Jophiel stood behind Ava, waiting for her to regain the ability to form words.

  “You’ve glamoured the place,” she finally said, then looked at the skyscrapers that cast no shade. “The entire block, actually.”

  “It’s not exactly glamour.” He shrugged. “You know how angels can mask their essence so humans won’t pay attention to them?”

  “Being there but not really?”

  Jophiel nodded. “Humans can’t see the entire block. What you’re witnessing is a failsafe because your perception is much stronger than a human’s. The Order does the same to its headquarters, by the way. Haven’t you ever asked yourself why a hundred story-high building passes unnoticed in the middle of town?”

  She turned back to the palace of decay and broken windows before her. “So what does your Legion really look like?”

  The elder chortled. “Perhaps after a few lessons, you’ll be able to break through the illusion.”

  She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “Lessons?”

  Jophiel nodded. “Come with me.”

  They crossed the mansion’s dead garden and entered the main hallway, going straight to the corridor beneath the inner balcony.

  The pathway led them to a round room that split into four dimly lit corridors, each going underground as far as Ava could see.

  They took the second path on the right and went down for what felt like an eternity. Soon the path stopped descending, and gray plaster peppered by cold LED lights replaced the dark wooden walls. The corridor’s ceiling went up, expanding until it reached at least two-stories high, perhaps more.

  An underground facility.

  “Why were you following me?” Ava asked, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous space.

  He didn’t turn back to her. “I could sense how wayward your light became with each passing day. I needed to make sure you were safe.”

  “Then why weren’t you at Club 23?” Poison oozed from her words, fueled by a petty need to hurt Jophiel. Ava chided herself, but the words were already out.

  “It happened too fast,” he said as they went on, a heavy weight in his tone. “I also couldn’t stop the attack on the Order. I should’ve seen the signs, but I …” He halted, lowering his head. “I wish Lothar and Lilith had been more patient.”

  She felt his sorrow, boulders pressing on his shoulders. Ava cleared her throat. “You should’ve told me and Liam about all of this.” She motioned to the gray walls. “Maybe we could’ve helped.”

  He angled his head, peering at her. “Your devotion to the Order blinded you, and Liam was too angry. Still is, actually.” He gave her a small shrug, then walked on.

  Big windows showcasing padded training rooms lined the corridor on both sides. This must be where the soldiers of Jophiel’s Legion trained.

  “So, we’re ready now?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “But life tends to make choices in spite of one’s will.”

  Ava pretended the sting didn’t hurt.

  “You instructed Lilith to show Liam his memories as Michael,” she said. “Why?”

  As they followed the corridor, Ava’s attention slid toward the enormous training rooms. Duels raged inside most of them, the sounds of battle muted by the thick glass. Human versus vampire, vampire versus werewolf, werewolf versus human.

  “Lilith was meant to trigger some of his memories as Michael, the ones his body could endure.” Jophiel stopped before a training room with padded dark green walls and floor. “It could’ve been done in a more subtle way, I’ll admit.” He opened the glass door beside the window-wall.

  Ava chortled as she entered the room. “Yes, it could.” She paused and then said, “Is he really my soulmate?”

  Jophiel winced and clicked his tongue. “Hard to say. Lilith saw the affinity between your essences and likely misinterpreted it. If Liam were your soulmate, the bond would’ve snapped into place by now. And it hasn’t, correct?”

  It pained her to say yes.

  He gave her a cocky grin. “What you should be asking yourself is: does it matter?”

  A smile bloomed on her face as Ava realized that no, it didn’t. Liam was still her partner, her friend, her lover. Soulmates were fables and fog; Liam was real, and he loved her. Gods save her, she loved him too.

  Jophiel closed the door behind them and knocked on the thick window-wall. “It’s been blessed by me. It should hold for our future trainings.”

  She frowned. “What are we training for, by the way?”

  “I won’t lie to you, child. I have no clue why you have a Seraph’s light. The fact you are standing before me is baffling.” He intertwined his fingers and tapped his hands softly on his chin. “You’re untrained, young, and take no offense, but you’re also weak. The light should’ve consumed you completely.”

  Flashes of the bloodshed at the warehouse burst in her mind, and then light, flooding everywhere, ripping flesh and bone apart. The only reason innocents hadn’t died was because Warriors had killed them before Ava. And the fact that she survived puzzled her as much as it must puzzle Jophiel.

  “I feel much better now, thank you.” She crossed her arms, uncaring about the irony in her tone.

  Jophiel patted the air with his palm. “I have faith in you, Ava, but you cannot control the light or use it to your advantage if you’re a lower angel.”

  She swallowed, her throat closing in on itself. “You mean I need to ascend to Dominion?”

  “High angel would be preferable, but I’ll take what I ca
n get. It shouldn’t be hard. You’re almost there. You simply need to acquire one more ability.” He lifted his index finger and gave her a mischievous grin.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

  Forcing emotions onto someone felt wrong, even if it was accepted by the Order.

  Jophiel straightened his stance and clasped both hands behind his back. His glare was a storm and a placid lake at the same time, and Ava caught a glimpse of the King of the first Heaven, the ravenous force of nature from the books, who now stood mightily before her in a human shell. “Forgive me if I gave you the impression that you had a choice.”

  Ava looked down at her sword as if looking for answers, or support, knowing fully how silly that sounded.

  “I dropped this sword into your plane of existence when the Earth was still young and the Order new,” he said, reading her thoughts. “This weapon is precious to me, and now to you as well, but it has freed what it was meant to free. Its purpose has been met.”

  “The blade is still sharp,” she countered.

  He gave her a knowing grin, then began strolling around the room, hands behind his back. “Your essence can tap into the powers of Erudites and Warriors. In time, we’ll practice such abilities, but today, we’ll focus on bringing you to Dominion level.” Jophiel motioned for her to sit on the padded floor. “Close your eyes.”

  She followed his command, hating the fact she’d have to force emotions onto someone. But Ava had to ensure that the disaster at Club 23 never happened again, no matter the cost. In the end, Jophiel was right: she had no choice.

  “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.

  She did. Once, twice. The room fell utterly silent, and Ava had the sensation of floating within herself.

  “You have many types of light within you, Ava. We all do. Today, you will search for the light that burned and consumed everything in its path.”

  “I’m afraid. What happened at Club 23—”

  “—can happen again if you fail to gain control.” Ava felt his weight dropping on the padded surface in front of her. “We all fear, child. It’s the mastering of fear that gives us power. Now find your light. You know where it is.”