by C. S. Wilde
“You coward!” Diego yelled from behind.
Through the gap in the wall of thugs, Ava saw him standing with his fists balled and nostrils flared, the soldier burning inside his frail body. His cane tapped shyly on the floor as he pushed himself forward.
The old man’s emotions flowed in cold whips around him: Abnegation. Resolve. Diego would put himself between the bullet and Samuel, but he was too slow.
Big Dog clicked his gun and grinned. “Last chance, dawg.”
Ezra stepped in front of Samuel, blocking the path to him.
Big Dog didn’t lower his gun. “You wanna die in his place? Fine by me, fucker.”
From beside Ava, Samuel shot one regretful glance at his father. He then turned forward, stepping away from Ezra’s protection. “You do what you have to do, but I ain’t killing my dad.”
“Samuel,” Ezra warned. “Get behind me. Now.”
“No. I’m not letting anyone else get hurt because of me.”
His emotions mirrored his father’s: abnegation, resolve. All too quickly, Samuel pulled his gun, his intentions as clear as day. He would end Big Dog, but that monster had the advantage, so he shot first.
At Samuel’s head.
Before Ava could react, a blur shifted toward Diego’s son. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed throughout the space, and then there stood Ezra, a shiny layer of gold covering the front side of his body.
His silver hair unknotted from his bun and flowed down on his back like a waterfall made of moonlight.
The layer of gold spread across him, finally coating his entire body. This was an ascended angel’s shield; Ava’s own was nothing compared to Ezra’s armor of pure power.
“I’ll never understand what makes men like you seek to destroy and harm,” he said as the crumpled bullet fell from his chest and clinked on the floor. “Don’t you know how wrong you are? Don’t you crave for the light?”
Big Dog didn’t reply. He simply stared at the golden figure before him with his jaw dropped.
“Puta madre,” Samuel muttered as he peeked at the deformed bullet on the floor, then at the golden angel standing before him and protecting him from harm.
The thugs around them withdrew their guns and aimed at Ezra, but instead of shooting, they strode carefully to Big Dog until their ranks formed a half circle around him.
His men might be loyal but they were also fools.
Ezra glanced back at Ava from his shoulder. “As I’ve ordered before,” he said patiently, “take Samuel to his father.”
Well, it hadn’t been her fault a wall of thugs had stood in their way. Nevertheless, she nodded and dragged a befuddled Samuel to the door.
“Stop!” Big Dog snarled.
Considering the number of guns in the room—and that some of the thugs held two weapons in their hands—Ezra wouldn’t be able to protect Ava and Samuel from all angles, no matter how fast he was.
“Samuel!” Big Dog yelled, anger and fear taking turns inside him. “You gonna pay, motherfucker. Nobody messes with Big Dog and lives to tell the tale.” He studied Ezra up and down with askance. “No matter what they fucking are.”
Ezra gave him a golden, bloodthirsty grin. “Careful …”
A swarm of pain and sorrow burst from Ava’s side. It came from Diego, who had just reached them.
“You’re the one who ordered a hit on me, hijo,” he deduced, not a hint of doubt in his tone. He leaned forward, looking past Ava and at his son.
Samuel lowered his chin to his chest. He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t. There was nothing he could say, really.
Diego shook his head, sniffing back tears. “I forgive you. I’m so sorry for being a bad father …”
“Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” he croaked, and at that the old man chuckled.
Ava’s smile bloomed as the years of anguish and sorrow in the two men began melting away like ice on a summer sidewalk.
This right here. This was healing. This was her purpose.
“You shouldn’t forgive me, papá,” Samuel added quietly.
Diego stretched his hand to him, even if he couldn’t reach it. “I already have, son.”
“Heartwarming,” Big Dog snarled from ahead. “Shoot the bastard.”
9
Samuel jumped away from Ava and his father, drawing the thugs’ wrath. Desperation infested her as bullets zinged across the room, all focused on Diego’s son.
Ava jumped after him, but she would never reach Samuel in time. It all happened in slow motion: the bullets cutting the air toward him, and Samuel facing them without fear.
The bitter taste of failure rushed down her throat, and the loss of the brave, prodigal son who saw redemption in his own doom squeezed her chest.
That until a blur flashed in front of them and the sound of metal hitting metal clanged from ahead.
Things quickly quietened. Samuel blinked and patted himself, his jaw hanging open. He clearly couldn’t believe he was still standing.
The Messenger stood before them, an impenetrable wall of golden muscle. Crumpled bullets rained down his chest, and relief washed through Ava.
“You’d do well to run now,” he snarled at the criminals, his fists balled.
The gunmen glared at one another and then at their weapons, as if they still couldn’t believe their own eyes. Their anger mixed with a certain awe and fear; glorious, growing fear. But that didn’t stop them from taking aim again.
One of them, however, didn’t focus on Ezra.
Big Dog smiled wickedly as he found Diego, standing too much to the left, away from the Messenger. While his men poured bullets at Ezra, he aimed his gun at the old man and pulled the trigger.
Ava never gave up on her charges.
Ever.
So she gathered her holy essence atop her skin, creating an invisible shield over her body and jumped.
This time, she wouldn’t fail the Garcías.
She pushed Diego out of the way just in time. The bullet pierced her feeble shield, punching and burning through her chest before bursting out of her shoulder blade.
She crashed with her back on the floor, nearly reaching the door. Blood began flooding her lungs, drooling from the hole in her flesh. She held the howls of pain that clawed through her throat as sweat bloomed on her forehead.
“Godsdamned, Ava!” Ezra screamed in the distance, but his voice was dimming, along with the shots that kept being fired.
Ava’s consciousness was slipping away. She couldn’t say why she remembered that Selfless father and his boy right then. Perhaps she was glad she had as much courage today as that child. Perhaps, she was glad to do what a Selfless did every single day: protect mankind, no matter the cost.
A smile cut across her lips. She would soon drift into oblivion, knowing that she’d met her purpose with honor.
Bullets kept ringing from a distance, and she spotted two figures crawling on their elbows and knees toward her.
Diego. Samuel.
The Garcías watched her with cold despair. They didn’t know what to do.
Honestly, neither did she.
“I never thought angels could die,” the old man muttered.
Samuel gaped at him, clearly assuming his father had lost his mind. “Angels, papá?”
“Samuel,” she spoke, drawing his attention. The blood that slowly drowned her reached her throat and trickled down the edge of her mouth. Ava coughed as an icy grip seized her. “Be good to your father.”
“I’ve wronged you, papá.” His voice was a whisper. “So much.”
“Don’t worry about that now, hijo.” Diego gave him a sad grin, then focused on her. “Ava, what can we do? How can we help you?”
She coughed more blood, the coppery taste flooding her tongue. “Just tell me how you got out of the safe house without alerting Wheeler.” She raised her hand and cupped the old man’s cheek, trying her best to soothe the sadness inside him. “I have to know.”
Diego laughed
but tears filled with sorrow still crowded his eyes. “I slipped some of my laxatives into his coffee.”
A laugh twittered in her chest. Heavens, the sound was so weak.
Diego held her hand with care and kindness. “I tracked you to the park, and after that it was easy. Please, Ava.” He sniffed. “Don’t die.”
A sudden surge of power made the hairs on her arm rise. Blue lightning cracked across the living room before a mighty blast flung bodies across the space—one even cut the air above them like a comet.
Samuel and Diego had thrown themselves atop her, forming a shell with their bodies to protect Ava from the blast, even though they didn’t have to—Ezra must’ve shielded them, otherwise they would have flown away too.
Tranquility swam through her.
This was why Ava loved being a Guardian. Humans were the greatest creations of the Gods. Their capacity for love and redemption was endless, and if she lost her immortal existence here, saving Diego and Samuel, well, she couldn’t think of a better way to go.
Darkness crept from the edges of her consciousness, and her body felt awfully light. She couldn’t tell if she was still breathing.
The room darkened, and then strong arms lifted her. Warmth swam across Ava, mending organs and flesh as easily as breathing.
She opened her eyes to see Ezra, the lines on his face harsh and furious. The golden shield atop his skin had disappeared.
He took her out of the apartment, cradling her against his chest, his motions fast and yet gentle. Only now did she realize the entire place had grown incredibly silent.
“You’re reckless,” Ezra grumbled, but the healing light of his essence still invaded her with love and care.
If Ava weren’t so weak, she would have replied with a witty “Obviously.”
He laid her down behind the elevator shaft as his healing light mended her lungs.
A cruel sense of helplessness filled her. If Ava weren’t a lower angel, she would’ve been able to heal herself. This way, Ezra wouldn’t have to waste time worrying about her, and Ava wouldn’t feel like a weak, useless infant.
Samuel and Diego followed after them, their worry seeping into Ava’s skin.
“She’ll be fine,” Ezra assured them as healing light emanated from his palms and seeped into her skin. He’d clearly sensed their agony as well. He then looked down at her with both annoyance and adoration. “My most stubborn Guardian.”
“Would I be your favorite if I wasn’t?” Ava managed, her voice still so weak.
He bent over and kissed her forehead. “You’ll always be my favorite, no matter what.”
Diego and Samuel exchanged a silly look.
“Get them!” The order came from inside the apartment.
Big Dog and his men must have recovered from Ezra’s power surge.
The Messenger stood up, fixed his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’ll excuse me.” The smile he gave them was pure delight.
He rushed back to the room as blue thunder cracked in the air. Bullets surged upon him, lines of light that zinged toward the Messenger, but he either dodged or blocked them all.
Ezra became a silver blur, moving around the room with the same speed his lightning boomed around him.
Silence slowly replaced the furious gunshots. The screams, too. All Ava could discern were the falling bodies Ezra left in his path.
Behind the elevator shaft, she, Samuel, and Diego were safe from the bullets. They also had a fair view of the madness ahead, as long as they stayed low.
“Holy shit,” Samuel gasped as he watched the Messenger in all his glory. “Who are you people?”
“They’re angels, son,” Diego explained. “They’re here to help.”
An incredulous frown creased his forehead. “No fucking way. You’re an atheist, papá.”
“They don’t care.” He nodded to the room, where a silver blur punched, kicked and electrocuted the remaining thugs. “How else would you explain that?”
Samuel’s mouth twitched but he said nothing. How could he deny what his own eyes witnessed?
The remaining thugs screamed and dashed toward the elevator, hoping for an escape, but Ezra got to them in time. He either knocked them unconscious or electrocuted them just enough so that they plopped on the ground like broken marionettes.
And then there was only one left.
Big Dog.
Hollow clicks came from his gun and he threw it aside with a curse. He pulled a knife from his boot and pointed it at Ezra. “Come at me, BC. I dare you.”
“I don’t need your dare, you cretin.” Ezra leaned his head left, studying him. “An animal to the end, aren’t you?” He stepped forward and Big Dog swung his blade in a warning.
Ezra didn’t stop.
“You’re what’s wrong with this world,” the Messenger went on, disgust in his tone. “People like you are the deviation of the Gods’ work. You’re here to destroy and consume, and you must be stopped before you drag more good people down to the Hells with you.”
Big Dog swung the blade again, his teeth clenched. “If I die today, I die fighting, motherfucker.”
“No, you don’t.”
In a blur of movement, Ezra appeared behind Big Dog and snapped his neck. The sound rang awfully like a cracking branch.
There was no shock on the fiend’s expression. Like Big Dog didn’t know he was already dead as his body crumpled to the floor.
A whimper filled with horror escaped Ava’s lips. She’d never seen someone die, especially in such a violent way, and especially through the hands of the kindest man she knew.
Ezra shot her a worried glance, but with a silent nod, she assured him she was fine. Or at least, she hoped she would be.
Ava might not agree with Big Dog’s brutal end, but she understood why the Messenger had to do it. The man was a cancer that infected everyone around him with cruelty and evil.
Yes, Big Dog had to be stopped, even though Ava preferred his imprisonment over an execution.
Ezra exhaled in relief as he walked back to them. Specks of sweat and dust peppered his clothing and skin.
He gently took her in his arms, lifting Ava as easily as if she were made of silk and air. His soothing light swam into her again, mending the minuscule cuts and burns in her lungs that still needed fixing.
“Let’s get back to the Order.” He turned to Samuel and Diego, who now stood beside them. “If I call my brothers and sisters to erase your minds, all the work we did to reunite you will have been for nothing. Do you understand?”
“We won’t say a word,” Diego assured.
“No one would believe us if we did,” Samuel chortled, then shoved his hands in his jean’s pockets. “You should go too, papá. I need to call the police.”
Diego gaped at him. “Are you mad?”
Before his father could argue any further, Samuel raised his hand. “I want you to be proud of me. After all I’ve done …” he sighed. “Maybe one day.”
Diego blinked back tears and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “That day has already come, mi hijo.”
Samuel didn’t believe him, even though Diego spoke the truth. Ava could sense Samuel’s shame and sorrow thrashing inside him. The prodigal son still yearned for redemption, and apparently, he knew exactly the way to do it.
“I’ll tell the police Wyatt tried to overtake Big Dog and this is the result.” Samuel nudged his chin at Ezra. “Those mind-sweeping angels of yours might come in handy to fix everyone else’s testimonies, BC.” He rolled his shoulders. “As for me, I’m gonna pretend I was unconscious through it all. That should do it.”
Ezra nodded, pride swelling in his chest. Ava could sense it. It was the same pride that had taken over her, too.
“I’ll send for them,” he said.
A swarm of sadness flowed from Diego. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his palm. “How can I ever repay you, Ava? You brought my son back to me.”
“I never did it for rep
ayment or gratitude, old man.” She winked at him from Ezra’s lap. “You finally have each other. I’m so proud of you both.” She fought the tears that pushed out.
Leaving her charges was always a desolating conclusion to her work, but this time it was harder. Almost as if Ava was leaving a piece of her heart behind.
With them.
The Garcías looked at each other before rushing forward and trapping Ava and Ezra in a tight hug.
She had to be strong, even if the tears tried to hurl their way out with a fury. Ava was a Guardian and she shouldn’t have favorites, but Gods help her, leaving those two had to be one of the hardest things she ever had to do.
“Thank you,” Samuel said, “for everything.”
They let them go after a moment that felt too brief.
She looked up to Ezra, and maybe Ava was seeing things, but she could swear his blue eyes were glistening.
He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “No need for thanks. We live for moments like this.”
10
A va often caught herself wondering how Diego and Samuel were doing. But her duty to them was over and she would soon get a new charge.
So was the life of a Guardian.
She stopped before Ezra’s office door, wondering why she’d been summoned here. Usually, Vera would’ve given her a new assignment, but when Ava asked the old owl for one, the woman simply smiled and told her to go to the Messenger.
Ava knocked on the frosted glass surface in front of her and waited.
“Come in,” Ezra said from inside.
She pushed the door open, and as always, he smiled when he saw her. “Have a seat, Ava.” He gestured to the white armchair near the window.
Today, Ezra’s hair was tied in a low braid. His silver bodysuit was sleeveless, showcasing strong arms. She took him in from head to toe; how perfect every inch of his body was.
He went to his desk and leaned on it, nearly using it as a seat. His hands curved on the edge of the table, highlighting the muscles that were already defined to begin with.