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

by C. S. Wilde

  “Your papa called me worse things,” Gabriel sneered. “Try to keep up, will you?”

  A flash of light revealed his sea-green wings, and then Gabriel boosted out of the precinct with the Captain in his grip.

  33

  Liam

  Liam’s breathing echoed in his eardrums as he rushed through the empty streets that led to the docks. He smelled seawater, and soon enough, the harbor came to view.

  He patted the two holy guns hidden beneath his jacket, then his sword, and the two sun daggers on his belt. Before he’d left the precinct, he’d made sure to pack enough heat. This might have given Gabriel a few minutes of advantage, but if Liam was going down—and he knew he would—he’d go down with a bang.

  He had run into Jal and Kevin on the way, but he’d wasted enough time getting his weapons. As Liam ran past them, he’d shouted, “Dock 5, get help!” and that was it. He didn’t stop, even when they begged him to, and soon enough, their pleading voices faded in the distance.

  Now here he was, ready to face his end.

  The place was eerily empty. Seagulls’ caws rung in the distance, and a soft breeze caressed his skin. Fading sunlight drenched Dock 5 in dim orange.

  “Gabriel!” Liam shouted as he threaded the space, his sword in hand.

  No reply. He turned left near a container and found him.

  Gabriel watched the canal and the city that stretched beyond it, his sea-green wings folded behind him. Not far from the Archangel, pinned to a red container, was the Captain, her hands and feet nailed to metal, shaping a cross.

  She hung there, lifeless, her mouth hanging open, her empty eye sockets staring back at him.

  Blood rushed to his head and he gasped, sniffing back the tears. “Fuck!” He looked away, but the scream still burst from his throat, a mix between a sob and a howl.

  If only he hadn’t stopped to grab the weapons …

  “Then we’d both be dead,” the memory of the Captain’s voice echoed in his mind.

  She would have also told him to run from here as fast as he could, but that, Cap, he couldn’t do.

  Liam swallowed back the tears and focused.

  “Why do you feel her death so?” Gabriel asked without turning to face him. “At least she’ll be reborn as a Virtue. I believe that’s what she used to be. The Powers have likely already blessed her deep in her mind. She’ll enjoy a few moments as an angel before I finish her off. Now that’s true angelic mercy, brother.”

  Liam raised his sword. “You’ll be dead by then. I won’t let you kill her twice.”

  “You saw the path once.” Gabriel turned to him, hands behind his back. He clearly didn’t see Liam as a threat. “You were one of us, but you betrayed me.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  Gabriel smiled and walked to him. Liam didn’t step back, his grip firm on his sword.

  The Archangel stopped only a few inches from him and leaned forward. “Kill. Them. All. Does that ring a bell?”

  The words made Liam dizzy, his mind fuzzy, and he closed his eyes, trying to center himself.

  Screams burst in his ears, flashes of people running from him, fire in the background. When he looked down at his hand, he was holding a man’s head by his hair. He shouted and dropped it.

  Was this the Hells?

  Liam fell to his knees and bellowed, the agony in his cries also shattering him inside. His body now acted on its own will, as if he was trapped inside a marionette.

  “Make them pay, Michael!” Gabriel stood before him, his image wavering like a TV with a bad reception. “Humans murdered one of ours, and what did the Gods do? Nothing!” Gabriel held a weeping woman by her long dark hair. “We’ll bring doomsday upon them ourselves.” His blade slashed across her throat, and blood spattered on Liam’s face. “Kill their precious and their brave. Kill their weak and useless.” Gabriel licked his lips. “Kill them all!”

  Liam glared at his own blood-soaked hands. “What have I done?” It was Liam’s voice, but he hadn’t meant to say it.

  He looked up at Gabriel but he had disappeared, along with the screams and the fire, leaving Liam alone in a freezing dark.

  Remorse slammed against him, a cold flood that slashed across all his senses. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was so angry!” he told himself, not understanding his own words.

  The choking grip of agony released him, and Liam glared down at his now perfectly clean hands. He moved his fingers, and they obeyed his command.

  An image wavered in the darkness. A tall Archangel walked toward him, his black uniform ripped and cut by blades. Long dark hair curtained the sides of his face, and sweat plastered a few strands to his forehead. It struck Liam then that the Archangel’s wings were white as snow.

  His chin had a dimple, his nose was too flat, and a scar cut across his left eyebrow. He didn’t resemble Liam much, but the Archangel was Liam. He couldn’t say why or how he knew, but he did.

  Michael.

  Gabriel materialized in the Archangel’s way, both their images flickering holograms in the darkness.

  “Raphael went in peace,” Michael said, raising his silver and blue sword. Liam’s blade. “He chose to perish rather than to kill the humans who threatened him. He was better than all of us. We should aspire to be like our fallen brother.”

  “We’ll never be like him, Michael,” Gabriel snapped. “Darkness lives inside us now. There’s no coming back.”

  “The Gods forgive, brother,” Michael countered, a certain pity in his tone. “There’s a difference between having darkness within and letting it consume you.”

  Gabriel bared his teeth. “Raphael was a fool, and so are you!” He boosted forward, his sword in hand.

  Their bodies clashed, their blades clanging loudly. But Michael was winning, and with one strike he flung Gabriel’s sword away. He pressed the tip of the blade softly against Gabriel’s chest. “We must pay for our sins.”

  “Why do you deny the darkness in you?” Gabriel spat. “Embrace it!”

  “Not like this.”

  A sphere of red lightning hit Michael from behind, throwing him on the floor.

  Liam blinked, and now he was lying on his back, on the same spot Michael had fallen.

  He stared at Gabriel and Talahel, who looked down upon him. Once again, he couldn’t move his body. He was trapped inside Michael’s memories.

  “We should kill him,” Talahel said with contempt, his cold eyes assessing Liam—well, Michael.

  “Give him time.” Gabriel turned to the Sword. “As a high angel, you can sign off on his Selfless reincarnation. No one will know.”

  Darkness crept from the edges of Liam’s vision. He tried to force himself awake, but his eyelids were so heavy …

  “He’ll remember what happened once he dies and becomes Michael again.” Talahel raised an eyebrow. “Easier to kill him now.”

  Gabriel grabbed his shoulder. “He’s my brother-in-arms like Raphael once was. Give him a chance, and if he still doesn’t join our cause, I’ll end him myself.”

  Dizziness took over, and when Liam opened his eyes, he was standing on the pier. He inhaled deeply, feeling as if he had been underwater for a long time.

  Gabriel frowned. “Daydreaming, brother?”

  “Y-you made me kill people,” Liam stammered as he patted his chest and arms, making sure he was really here. “We lost someone we loved, and we killed the humans who hurt him. An entire village, Gabriel. We killed them all.”

  “Someone we loved?” Gabriel snarled, his nostrils flared. “I lost much more than a brother when Raphael died, Michael!” He fixed a flock of his lemon-colored hair back, straightening his stance. “Besides, I didn’t make you do anything. We both wanted revenge for what they did to him, and we got it.”

  Liam raised his sword and shifted into a battle stance. “I won’t let you walk away.”

  Gabriel snorted at the blade. “Do you truly believe you can beat me?”

  “No.” With his free hand, Liam w
ithdrew the gun from the holster and shot Gabriel in the heart, point blank.

  The Archangel had been focusing on his blade and failed to dodge the blast. It pushed Gabriel several feet back, but Liam knew it wouldn’t kill him, not when he had the strength of Archangels and the healing inherent of second-tiers.

  Gabriel put a hand over his wound, which had already started to heal through his ripped black uniform. “Pathetic.”

  He jolted at Liam, his movements a blur, but Liam dodged the attack by an inch. Before the Archangel could turn around, he aimed the gun at Gabriel’s head and fired.

  Luck was definitely on Liam’s side.

  The blast flung Gabriel into a container, making a huge dent on the metal, and Liam heard the Archangel’s wings crack between his body and the harsh surface. Blood poured from Gabriel’s forehead, but considering how close he had been to the blast, his head should’ve been blown to pieces.

  The Archangel’s limp body slumped against the container.

  Liam couldn’t wait; Gabriel’s healing had already started. He aimed and ran toward him, and as he did, Liam thanked Archie for teaching him how to get a good shot while moving. He focused on Gabriel’s head and fired.

  The bullet hit metal.

  Fuck, Archangels were fast.

  He felt Gabriel’s presence looming from behind, his breath brushing Liam’s neck. He turned back to look straight into Gabriel’s furious eyes. Half of the Archangel’s face was painted with fresh blood, and the spot where the bullet had hit him showed the white surface of a cracked skull.

  “Nice try, brother.” His breath stank of mint and blood.

  Liam tried to step back, but Gabriel grabbed both his wrists, his grip like iron. They stood there, the pressure of Gabriel’s hold increasing, but Liam refused to drop his sword and gun, even though pain swarmed up his bones.

  Gabriel laughed. In a few minutes, his head would be completely healed. “Your stubbornness is admirable.”

  The Archangel pressed harder, and Liam’s hands opened. He bit back the yelp of pain that scratched his throat. His sword and gun clanked on the ground, and pain pierced through his tendons, but Liam didn’t scream. He wouldn’t give Gabriel the pleasure.

  “Time to die, Michael,” Gabriel said with a sneer, but all joy suddenly vanished from his face.

  “Let him go!” Ava’s voice came from behind the Archangel.

  The tip of her blade pressed the back of Gabriel’s neck.

  Liam lost his footing, and he couldn’t breathe. No, no, no! His princess would die with him today.

  Gabriel turned slowly, pulling Liam with him. As he moved, Ava’s blade drew a thin line of blood on his neck that quickly healed. She didn’t flinch or move back, she merely glared at Gabriel with an unmerciful fury that belonged to the Valkyrie inside her.

  The Archangel smiled and licked his lips. “Oh, this will be so much fun.”

  “Don’t touch her!” Liam pushed against Gabriel, trying to set himself free, but one twist of Gabriel’s hand sent Liam down to his knees.

  The screams burst inside his throat, but Liam kept his lips closed, trapping them there.

  Fuck. The asshole had broken his left wrist.

  “Let him go!” In one swift move, Ava pressed the tip of her sword against Gabriel’s trachea. “Now!”

  “Or else what?” Gabriel laughed. “You’ll kill me, Guardian?”

  “Ava, run!” Liam managed between hushed breaths. Seeing her so close to that sadistic fuck hurt more than his broken wrist. “Just run!”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said, her attention fully on Gabriel.

  “Cute.” The Archangel shrugged, never letting go of Liam. “You’ll die together. How tragically beautiful.” A jealous glint flashed in his eyes. “It’s an honor, really. Not everyone gets the same chance.”

  He let go of Liam, swiveled out of the blade’s reach, and jabbed a punch on Ava’s stomach. She stepped back and bent over, her sword clanking on the ground as she gasped for air.

  Liam’s head thumped with rage and pain, but his movements felt detached and calculated.

  He had to save Ava.

  He crouched over his elbow so Gabriel couldn’t see him pulling the second holy gun from the holster. But the Archangel’s attention snapped at him. The fucker grinned all too widely, like monsters in movies.

  Shit.

  Liam pressed the trigger, but Gabriel became a blur once again. He missed the shot, and then something slammed against his chest, a fist or a foot, he couldn’t say. His back slammed on the ground, and then Gabriel was looking down at him with a hint of curiosity.

  Liam fired, once, twice, but the Archangel dodged the blasts and kicked the holy gun away—snapping a bone or several in Liam’s right hand.

  He held his screams once again. He was getting good at this.

  The Archangel pressed his foot on Liam’s chest, and it weighted like a fucking concrete wall.

  “You need a diet,” Liam gasped, blood thumping in his head as he tried to push free of him.

  “You’ve developed an interesting sense of humor. It’s funny how you’re Michael and, at the same time, not like him at all.” Gabriel smirked and removed his foot while raising Liam’s sword—how he’d gotten to it, Liam didn’t know.

  The asshole was way too fast.

  “Goodbye, brother.” He shoved the blade into Liam’s chest.

  34

  Ava

  The crush of despair cracked Ava’s essence into a million pieces. She stood there, breathless, broken beyond repair. A piercing wail stung her ears, and she realized it had come from her own throat.

  Gabriel yanked the blade from Liam’s chest with a wet, sharp sound that destroyed her.

  It was silent now, painfully so. Ava’s breaths rung in her ears as she watched the blade drip red on the floor.

  Liam’s red.

  The bastard gave her a victorious grin before stepping aside, showing her the way to Liam. “I’m not wholly devoid of mercy, Guardian. I know how important your charges are to you.”

  Ava shouldn’t trust Gabriel, but she had no choice. Her legs carried her forward.

  Her knees scraped the cement floor as she knelt by Liam’s side. The pain of her wounds was nothing.

  “Stay with me,” she begged.

  Liam tried to speak but choked on blood instead.

  The beast roared inside Ava, shooting golden light from the rift into her body. Warmth flooded through her arms, quickly reaching her hands, which glowed like tiny suns.

  She pressed them atop Liam’s wound.

  His organs and flesh began to mend underneath her palm. The light weaved them together. She could feel every tendon connecting, the walls of slashed muscle closing over the cuts.

  Ava could save him. There was still hope!

  “Not so fast.” Gabriel whacked her away with a bone-cracking punch, which flung Ava against a container’s wall.

  Her body slammed into the hard surface, the back of her head crashing on metal. Her legs became butter beneath her, and then she dropped on the floor, dazed and bordering on unconsciousness.

  As Ava tried to focus her blurred vision, she spotted the Captain’s body pinned against a red container to her left.

  Her eyes were missing.

  Ava’s head spun, and she tried to center her thoughts. She was too hurt and weak to stand, so she crawled on her knees.

  “Liam,” she muttered, stretching a hand to him, painfully aware that he was too far.

  Gabriel approached Liam’s body, raised his sword and sunk the blade into her partner’s flesh. Twice.

  A new scream ripped through Ava, shattering everything on its way out; her soul, her thoughts, her reason. And then she couldn’t scream anymore, only sob.

  Liam’s body stopped moving.

  Gabriel turned to her with a grin. The sword was still shoved in her partner’s chest.

  “Your turn, pretty Guardian.”

  Ava couldn’t speak, despair tra
pped her where she was, her body numb. Liam was her charge, her partner, hers, and she had failed him as a Guardian, as a lover, as a friend.

  Amidst the sobs that tried to choke her, she bellowed, “Why?”

  Gabriel yanked the sword from Liam’s body and strolled to her. “Isn’t it obvious? He had to die.”

  A thick layer of Liam’s blood painted the blade, and bile rose up Ava’s throat.

  She had lost a part of her, one that had crept up inside without being noticed, making itself vital.

  Liam was gone, his voice silenced, and the quiet killed her.

  “No hard feelings.” Gabriel put his hand on his heart as he approached. “But I can’t let you walk away, either. I’m sure you understand.”

  She didn’t. She didn’t understand any of it. The Order was falling, Liam was dead, and her world was burning. The man who had become her safe haven now laid lifeless on the ground.

  Gabriel stopped beside her, holding Liam’s sword high. He observed her with fake pity. “I would say prepare to meet your makers, but it’s not like you’ll go to the Heavens, is it? Your next stop is oblivion.” His smile showcased madness. A flock of his yellow hair brushed on his forehead. “Farewell, weak little Guardian.”

  Weak. Little. Guardian.

  Golden lava gushed from Ava’s rift, enveloping her body. She saw the sword coming down in slow motion and closed her eyes.

  Let it be done with.

  The blade slammed down on her neck, and the sound of metal hitting metal clanged loudly. Her head remained in place.

  Her shield’s molten gold had swept over her skin, cold and tingling. Gabriel’s blade had scratched its surface, but it’d felt like a papercut.

  She took advantage of his surprise and jumped up, sucker-punching him miles into the water.

  She glared at her golden wrist with a mix of shock and awe. A Dominion or a Virtue couldn’t punch like this. She doubted a Warrior could, either—Ava would know. She had faced a Warrior’s knuckles back at Club 23.

  This … this had been an Archangel’s punch.

  She waited for her head to hurt, knowing she had used a power that wasn’t hers. But Ava felt nothing.