by C. S. Wilde
She took a deep breath and sank within herself. After a while, she found it in the darkness of her consciousness: the pulsing rift that spewed molten gold coated by golden lightning. And inside it, shining like a sun through the crack, lived the light beast.
“Good,” said Jophiel’s soothing tone. “Let it speak to you.”
Ava touched the outskirts of the rift. Golden lightning wrapped around her arms, and she nearly jerked away but Jophiel ordered, “Do not fear.”
So she didn’t, or at least tried not to. The cracking lightning danced atop her skin, as if it were a puppy begging for her to throw a ball. Beyond the rift, the light pulsed something that felt like a pleased purr.
“It adapts so quickly,” Jophiel muttered, wonder in his tone. “Let the light soak into you.”
As if it had listened to the Seraph’s commands, the lightning dove into her skin, sending a warm, giddy sensation through Ava’s core.
“Is it working?” she asked.
“We’re about to find out. Use the light to push your emotions toward me.”
Ava loved her empathy. It soothed her charges and helped with their pain, but it only worked if they were open to it. Never did she force the words, never did she take over.
“Isn’t free will a gift of the Gods?” she asked, trying to steady her quickening heartbeats.
“You’re not interfering with free will, child,” Jophiel’s voice ran with a hint of annoyance. “You’re merely projecting your emotions onto someone else.”
“It still feels wrong.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Look for a good memory and push it toward me. That should make it easier for you, yes?”
Somehow, the light knew what to do. It guided her to a well of darkness, diving with Ava down the empty void. After a long while, they hit a black-glassed surface that reflected Ava’s glowing figure.
She watched herself floating in the darkness, her body enveloped by a halo of light while lightning cracked around her. Her skin was golden and so was her hair, which floated as if Ava were underwater.
She raised one hand. Her reflection did the same, if only a little slower.
A deep darkness stared at her from beyond the glassed surface. It reminded her of Jal’s demonic energy. It oozed cold and desperation as it moved inside its cage. Ava couldn’t see it, but she could feel it, a tiger eager to break free.
The lightning around her whipped at the obsidian glass, pushing Ava forward, but she stood her ground.
From an unknown distance, the light beast roared something that felt like a demand. It hit her all of a sudden: the light wanted what was behind that glass.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to see beyond the obsidian surface. Darkness, pure and consuming, stared back at her. A jolt of fear swam across Ava’s skin.
“Not today,” Jophiel warned, his words sharp and on edge. “Force your emotions onto me.”
Ava focused, and her light pushed her upward, away from the darkness. Memories and sensations flooded into her. She saw flashes of her mother caressing her cheek, and Ezra telling her he was so proud. Then little Charlie’s hugs, and Sister Mary’s soft smile, followed by Justine’s fierce loyalty, and then the faces of all her human charges, all the people Ava had helped since she had become a Guardian. And then Liam, kissing her, looking at Ava the way one would look at the Gods.
Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks. “Are you feeling this?”
“No,” Jophiel said with a hint of frustration.
The lightning that cracked around her turned to Jophiel in the way of a dog catching a scent. She couldn’t see him in the darkness, but somehow her light tracked him. It spread in a pulse, scanning the entire room, including Jophiel’s body. Ava could see him even with her eyes closed. He sat with his legs crossed, facing her, his shape made of glittering sparkles against the darkness.
“Spectacular.” His voice was embedded with a smile. “Try to shoot your emotions toward me using your light. That should work.”
Ava nodded, and her light plunged toward him, slamming into Jophiel. It trailed a path into his consciousness until it reached a massive iron wall that stretched beyond her vision. Ava couldn’t actually see the wall, but she could feel it, endless and indestructible amidst a desert with roaring skies.
The golden lighting that cracked around her sucked her happy memories and then pushed them against the wall. The lightning struck the surface with a fury, but nothing happened.
“I can’t break through,” she said.
He let out a busty laugh that felt unnatural to a human. “Of course not. Try to make the feelings slip through it. Like a sponge.”
That sounded absurd. The wall was massive and impenetrable. It would take some sort of mental drill to even make a scratch.
Still, Ava pushed her light forward, and it swam atop the wall’s surface, looking for a soft spot.
Glimpses of a giant old man sitting on a golden throne flashed in her mind. His white beard was bushier, his face made of sharper, merciless lines, his skin the color of bark, but his blue eyes were kind and welcoming. His golden wings must be the span of an airplane, and they shone behind him with such intensity that it seemed the sun was eternally rising behind him.
“Is that you?” she asked.
Jophiel nodded, his form imprinted in her light. “Somehow, your empathy has morphed into telepathy.” A certain awe peppered his words. “Follow your essence, it wants to show you something.”
By now, Ava’s bones should feel like they were rusting, and a monumental headache should spread beneath her skull, just like it did whenever she used Erudite abilities. But Ava couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so good.
Suddenly the wall disappeared, and she was looking down on an Archangel—she could tell because of his wings and his black bodysuit. Ava floated near the ceiling of his dark room.
She had never seen wings like those, with feathers the color of snow. The Archangel crouched by his bed, his hands intertwined as he muttered prayers. She sank toward him, watching the angel from the opposite side of the bed.
His skin was tanned, and his black hair reached his shoulders. She couldn’t see his face, hidden behind his fisted hands, but he was shaking and crying.
“Mighty Jophiel, King of the first Heaven, hear my plea,” the Archangel said, his deep tone familiar and yet so foreign. “I must be punished for I’ve lost my way. Evil is coming, and I can’t fight it alone. Mankind cannot fight it alone. Help the Order, oh holy one closest to Earth, leader of the first Heaven. Give me strength for what I’m about to do.”
His voice was filled with pain and sorrow. Ava wished to wrap her arms around him and mutter the words of the Gods in his ear.
The Archangel repeated his prayer non-stop until he got tired and leaned back. His face was made of sharp cuts and squared lines that felt familiar, but it was his clear green eyes, kind and sad, that broke Ava.
She gasped. “Liam!”
Her lightning whipped, boomed and cracked, the snarling beast ready to attack and destroy everything.
He’s hurt!
“Control it, Ava,” Jophiel demanded.
The lightning growled at Jophiel, refusing to obey. It charged the air around them with electricity, gaining momentum for the inevitable blast.
The release of the beast.
“You won’t burst again, Ava,” Jophiel said calmly. “Believe this.”
She didn’t. That storm of light raged inside her; Gods, she would explode and take out the entire Legion.
“Help me,” she croaked, her body shaking.
“Do. Not. Fear.” His voice boomed around her, digging into her bones.
Liam was in the Legion, and if she went off, she would kill him. She would kill everyone. So Ava focused on his smile, and then on his thumb brushing her cheek. The kisses that had trailed blazing paths across her skin only a few hours ago.
A sense of peace flooded her, soothing her fears and the beast at the same time.
Slowly the lightning calmed, and then all at once it snapped back into the rift inside her, leaving Ava feeling empty and alone.
“Wonderful!” Jophiel clapped. “We made great progress today.”
“Did we?” Ava opened her eyes and glanced sideways at her shoulders.
No wings.
He blew air through his lips. “You didn’t expect to become a Dominion after your first lesson, did you?”
“Are you guys meditating or something?” Jal’s voice came from the door.
Ava turned around to see him and Liam entering the room. She wanted to run to her partner, trap him in her arms and never let go, but Liam didn’t even glance at her.
“I called the Cap,” he said, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the floor. “I’m heading back to the precinct. I gave Kev the lead on Gabriel and Talahel, so let’s see what he comes up with.”
“Don’t worry, pretty angel,” Jal added. “I’ll make sure your partner doesn’t get into trouble.”
Ava frowned at Liam. “You’re taking a demon to the Nine-five?”
“Not to the precinct, only to the vicinities.” He tapped Jal’s good shoulder.
“The truth is I need fresh air,” Jal said. “Our garden gets boring after a while.”
Watching Jal’s body was hard. Half of it was covered in scabs, his wings tattered and burnt. Surely, not all of this was her fault, but Ava’s light had wounded him so much more than Gabriel’s attacks.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “I’m fine, angel girl.”
She stood up and stepped toward them. “Well, let me join you. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
“He’s been praying to me,” Jophiel said as he stood from the padded ground. “He’s praying right now, but he’s not ready to listen. Not to me, at least.”
“Who?” she asked, but deep down, she knew who he meant.
Ezraphael.
“The Messenger is drowning in the darkness around him, Ava. I know you can also feel it. It has already begun taking over. You must do what feels right to you.” Jophiel pressed a hand against his heart. “But without you, Ezrapahel will succumb to the darkness.”
She turned to Liam. Her Guardian instincts told her that the veil of nonchalance behind his eyes only masked a world of hurt.
“I have to,” she said, her legs suddenly weak.
He raised his head and stared at her. Into her. “I know.”
“I’ll meet you at the precinct once I talk to Ezra, I promise.” She shot him a supportive grin.
“It’s fine, Ava. You wouldn’t be who you are if you didn’t help someone in need. Focus on that.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But you’re not stepping inside the Order. Not until we know who in there killed Archie. It’s not safe.”
Jophiel closed his eyes and silenced, as if he were listening to a song no one else could hear. Finally, he opened his eyes. “Ezraphael isn’t at the Order.”
31
Ava
Ezra stood on the ledge of a building’s roof. He watched the city below, clearly ignoring Ava’s presence behind him. A soft wind tousled his long silver hair, which was odd. Ezra rarely let his hair loose, and if anything, the Messenger was a creature of habit.
The feeling that something wasn’t right thrummed in Ava’s bones.
She stepped forward, and he slowly turned to her. At first, he watched her as if he couldn’t believe she was here. Like Ava was a dream. A cloud of anguish swirled inside him and prickled against her essence.
“Ezra,” she started, but the moment he heard her voice, something snapped inside him.
He rushed toward her without warning, closing Ava in a tight hug, his fingers digging into her skin.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “I shouldn’t have given you the sword of revelation.”
Ava didn’t know what to do. Her hands remained frozen midway, uncertain if she should hug him back or not. She settled with, “You should’ve told me the truth, Ezra.”
He let her go and stared at her, hurt wrinkling his forehead.
Only now did she realize how Ezra had changed. His sky-blue eyes had turned opaque, his cheeks were sunken, and his skin was paler than usual. His once lustrous silver hair had lost its shine, the strands oily and glued together.
The Messenger was a shell of the mighty angel he’d once been, and still that fierce beauty remained, even if faded under a stale, worn façade.
Heavens, what had happened to him?
“My intentions were good,” he whimpered. “I only wanted to boost your light. I needed you to be strong so you could stand by my side.”
She held back a contemptuous snort. “The path to the Hells is paved with good intentions, Ezra.”
“So goes the saying, but …” He blinked, then shook his head. “I needed you, Ava. So much. I’ve been the Messenger for an eternity, sometimes I …” He lowered his head. “Sometimes I forget things that should’ve been ingrained within my essence. Things that come so naturally to you.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “Ava, you remind me of the Guardian I used to be. I hope you’ll still consider becoming my mate.”
She jerked her hand away and stepped back. “How could I possibly—”
His pain burst from him and slashed Ava in a thousand pieces. Ezra didn’t deserve her anger or her despise. Not long ago, she had looked up to the Messenger, trusted him with her life. Her heart too.
The kind man she once loved was still there, inside this broken and frail angel. Ava simply needed to bring him to surface.
It might doom her someday, this indestructible need she had to help others. But she couldn’t leave Ezra, not when he needed her the most.
“You need help,” she said. “I won’t deny that to you.”
“Thank you.” Ezra gave her a brief smile, then noticed her gray clothing. “What happened to your uniform?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She stepped closer. “Did Justine come to you?”
His throat bobbed, and he turned away.
A flash of despair flicked through Ava. “Ezra, what did you do?”
“The words Justine spoke are sacrilege,” he said through gritted teeth. “The Order, my Order, has not been tainted by evil. Those humans weren’t innocent. They were siding with the In-Betweens like Gabriel said. It was a blessing you killed them all with your light.”
“The Warriors killed them, not me!” Her voice broke. “How can you say that a massacre was a blessing? You’re the Messenger, the most merciful and loving angel in the Order!”
Had Ezra been brainwashed? Gods, was he so far gone?
Maybe she couldn’t save him. The bitter tang of failure made her stomach clench, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
Ava bit her teeth, and closed her hands into fists. She was a Guardian, the best in all the Order. She had never given up on a charge, and she wasn’t about to start now.
Ava took a deep breath and focused on the matter at hand. “What did you do to Justine?”
“I put her in detention, of course.” He avoided Ava’s furious glare. “It was a merciful decision. The sacrilege she spoke of demanded her head.”
Ava gasped and stepped back. “There’s evil in your words. Madness too.”
“Ava, please …” His eyes glistened with tears. “Can’t you see our faith is being tested? This is the moment we need to remain strong.”
Ava nudged her own heart. “My faith is just fine. Yours is the problem.”
He threw his arms up in an exasperated manner. “Those creatures killed our brothers and sisters! They painted the hall red with their blood! I wished to forgive them, to think they didn’t know better, but Talahel helped me see.” His tone wavered. “Sometimes, we must be ruthless.”
She slapped him with all her strength. It didn’t affect him much; his face barely moved. But he stood there, frozen, his eyes wide as i
f he couldn’t believe she had just done it.
“Who are you?” she spat.
Ezra blinked, his eyes glistening. He turned to Ava and ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving up and down. He tried to speak but no words came out, so he crouched down and interspersed both hands, pressing them against his forehead in prayer.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He held a sob, his body trembling. “I feel like I’m choking on air.”
A bitter sensation crawled up Ava’s throat, regret for slapping him when he was already so weak. “You’re the Messenger. Leader of all Guardians, the strongest child of the Goddess of Love and Life. The best angel in the entire Order. Do not forget who you are, Ezra.”
He rocked on his heels, back and forth, and Ava doubted he had listened. So she knelt beside him and laid a hand on his back. She summoned the light from her rift. If she was to soothe a high angel, she would need a lot of it.
“The Gods are with you,” she muttered as she pulled the light. Golden wisps sparkled around her palm before merging into his skin. “And you’re with the Gods.”
He closed his eyes, taking what she offered. Slowly, his body relaxed.
“Your touch is a blessing,” he whispered.
But something inside Ezra caught her light’s attention. The cracking lightning that lived inside her flowed through their connection, diving deep into his consciousness until it found an ivory wall weaker than Jophiel’s. The lightning whipped and cracked against the surface.
Ava ordered the light to return, but it ignored her command. It scanned the wall through its unending length until a scene burst into Ava’s mind.
Ezra paced around a big room made of ebony marbled walls that resembled the night sky.
Talahel observed him through predatory hazel eyes. The Sword’s orange hair was tied in a long braid behind his head, the sides of his temples shaved, making him resemble a Viking warrior from history books. Swirling tribal tattoos decorated his skin on both sides of his head.
“I’m going to the hospital to heal that Selfless,” Ezra said.