by C. S. Wilde
“To us all.” She slammed her hand twice on the desk. “Now, we shall discuss the matter of the In-Betweens. The Messenger’s statement is quite alarming. If demons are behind the increase of In-Between attacks on humans, they must be stopped.”
“This is nonsense, my Throne,” Talahel said, leaving the visitors’ gallery to enter the center of the courtroom. “Demons can’t articulate on such a level. The In-Betweens lie. And even if this were true, what do we owe those who didn’t choose the light?”
“They didn’t choose the dark, either.” Agathe frowned at him. “And we owe them mercy if their attacks are the result of desperation.”
“Their depositions aren’t valid to the Order,” Talahel argued. “We cannot rely on In-Betweens to tell the truth, and we never have. This is simply their attempt to harm humans without receiving the adequate punishment.”
“That might as well be,” Agathe said. “Dominion Evestar, however, had an excellent idea.” She nodded at Vera, who in turn smirked at Talahel. “We will build a task force.”
Talahel blew air through his lips. “A task force? That’s completely unnecessary. If it will make my brothers and sisters happy, I will ask my angels to—”
Agathe raised her hand. “I appreciate the offering, brother. But the arm of the Order should not investigate this alone. You already have so much on your shoulders.”
The Throne actually meant this. There was no inch of irony in her words. She truly wished to help that animal. Ava could feel her compassion and kindness flowing in soft clouds around her.
“I shall assign two of my most trusted Virtues,” the Throne continued. “You will assign two of your Archangels, and Ezrapahel two of his Dominions. They shall dig deeper into this matter and report directly to us. In the meantime, we will continue to smite In-Betweens who threaten humans, even if they’re being forced to do it.”
“I choose Vera,” Ezra said as he entered the center of the courtroom, standing beside Talahel and yet paying him no attention. “I also choose Dominion Phillae.”
Talahel’s hands balled into fists, but he kept a poised expression. “Sithrael and Monahe.” He glanced at Ava, a threat hidden within his soulless eyes.
“Very well,” Agathe said. “I choose Virtue Moon and Lisle.”
Lisle bowed to her. “I shall make you proud, my Throne.”
“I know you will,” she said without looking at him. “Well then, now that this matter has been settled, I’m needed in another hearing.”
With that, she vanished in a cloud of smoke as dark as her hair. Every high angel had a special power unique to themselves, and Agathe’s was teleportation.
“Pointless, really, for her to have wings,” Virtue Lisle said as he walked to his desk and gathered his papers.
Vera gathered her own folders. “In this world, nothing is ever pointless.” She went to him and tapped his shoulder. “Come. Let me buy you a coffee. You played a fair game.”
He chuckled. “You can be nice when you’re not being a bitch, you know.”
“Why, Lisle, I’m always a bitch.”
As soon as they walked out of the room, the tension between Ezra and Talahel became invisible thunder cracking in the air.
“I’m deeply sorry about Gabriel’s fate.” Ezra’s composed demeanor revealed nothing. “But he spoke of an alliance with demons to eradicate In-Betweens. Such horrible crimes can’t go unpunished, don’t you think, brother?”
“That is indeed terrible.” Talahel frowned, feigning disgust.
Oh, what an actor he was.
“I’m glad you stopped him before it was too late,” he went on. “However, I simply can’t imagine Gabriel killing innocents in such manner.”
Ava left the witness stand and went to Ezra’s side. “His fingerprints were on the Captain’s body.”
“Were they?” Talahel raised his shoulders.
“Oh, you’re good.” She bared her teeth at him. “But I’m better.”
She would tie him to the demonic activity, and she would have him locked up for genocide.
Nowadays, the In-Betweens weren’t taken captive, nor did they have a right to trial. They were simply killed because they had attacked the Order. Their basic rights were annulled on that same day, thanks to the Sword.
Hatred grew strong among angels, tainting everything the Order fought for. All because of demons—all because of Talahel.
Ava would end him with her bare hands; the threat sizzled on the tip of her tongue.
Ezra softly pressed her forearm in a silent message that said, “Careful.”
“I’m a high angel, Dominion Lightway. You stand no chance against me.” Talahel clicked his tongue and surveyed her wings. “I wonder how you got those beautiful snow-white feathers.” He frowned at Ezra. “They’re as white as Michael’s, are they not?”
Ezra ignored his provocation. “A remarkable coincidence indeed.”
“Hmm.” Talahel shrugged. “I suppose yours comes close, being light silver and gold and all.” He tapped Ezra’s shoulder. “It’s truly a pity. I loved Gabriel, as I love all of them.” He turned to Ava. “Remember, Dominion Lightway, that you have murdered an entire troop of my Warriors. If you didn’t have the protection of the Messenger, you’d be dead by now.”
With that, he went to the door.
“I will remind you again, brother,” Ezra said through gritted teeth. “That revenge is not the way of the Gods.”
“Indeed.” Talahel glared back at them from over his shoulder. A cruel grin cut across his lips. “But perhaps it is my way.”
5
Liam
Liam watched the training room’s ceiling spin. His shallow breaths dragged in his ears, and he felt drunk even though he hadn’t taken a drop of alcohol.
He tried to focus, but the ceiling still whirled above him.
The metallic taste of blood spread in his mouth. At some point in the last hour, he must’ve cut his tongue with his sharp teeth.
His muscles hurt. No, his damned bones hurt. He doubted he’d ever get up again.
“Come on!” Jal’s voice came from afar, and Liam scowled. “We don’t have all day.”
He felt someone kick his calf. Drowsily, he grumbled, “Fucking demon.”
After the darkness receded and Liam returned to his own mind, Archie ordered a strict training schedule for him. When he wasn’t fighting the old man, he was fighting Jal. And when he wasn’t fighting either, Liam was too tired to even breathe.
Today, he’d battled Jal through the entire morning.
Striking the demon proved harder than he expected. Jal was stronger and faster, and when he slammed an ear clap near his temples, Liam lost his balance and thundered to the ground like a falling tree.
“I assumed you were the good cop in Archie’s routine,” Liam said as he tried to sit straight. The room span furiously, so he laid back again. “You were supposed to go easy on me, right?”
“I let you hit me once. That counts.”
Yeah, and Liam’s punch didn’t leave a tiny blotch on the demon’s face.
Asshole.
Archie and Jal trained Liam so hard that they would often carry him to his cell—sometimes Liam was awake, sometimes unconscious. If he had trained with Archie, he was probably not only comatose but barely breathing.
The next day, however, he woke perfectly healed from his battle wounds.
And then it all started again.
Ava was his trigger; that much was clear. Every time he thought of her, the darkness went berserk.
Archie said no one could tell exactly why, but Jal had a theory of his own.
“The dark is you, dumbass,” he said this morning before they’d begun. “No one watches your back more than yourself, capisce?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Look, missing Ava hurts, right? So the darkness is trying to protect you. Every time you think of her, it goes berserk so that you stop thinking about her.”
He’d chortled. “Prote
ct me? The fucking thing doesn’t give me a moment of peace. It’s always driving me mad, not only when I think of Ava.”
Jal leaned forward and whispered as if he was about to tell Liam a big secret. “Yeah, but when you think of her it goes crazier than usual, doesn’t it?”
Well, he couldn’t argue with that.
In any case, Archie and Jal’s training worked. The darkness stopped fighting against Liam to fight with him and soon enough, he became used to it. So when mad ideas and visions bubbled to surface, he found that razor sharp determination that took ahold of him when he fought.
Boom, alignment.
The darkness was no fool, though.
Liam was constantly on edge, constantly fighting, and sometimes he got tired. The darkness often took advantage of these moments and swallowed him entirely, showing him images of the Legion piled with corpses, assuring Liam it had been his fault.
Once, it showed him Jal’s beheaded corpse, and another time it was Jophiel hanging from a cross. This thing inside took his fears to a whole new level.
Eventually, Liam controlled these fits on his own. But when he imagined Ava making love to the Messenger, he lost it so bad that Archie had to punch him unconscious.
“Are you getting up or not?” Jal asked from a distance, his voice now clearer in Liam’s ears.
The ceiling had finally stopped moving.
“You suck,” Liam grunted as he pushed himself up.
Jal was dabbing a towel over his naked torso, drying his sweat. He grabbed another towel from the bench next to them and shot it at Liam, who began drying his bare chest.
Lilith watched them from the bench. She drank from a wine glass filled with thick, dark liquid that sure as Hells hadn’t come from grapes.
“My, oh my, what a show, gentlemen.” She licked her lips, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes gleamed with predatory glee. “Do let me know the next time you’ll be training, yes?”
Liam rolled his eyes, but Jal puffed up his chest like a peacock in heat. A flirty grin crossed the demon’s squared jaw, and Lilith grinned at him in return, a spark of lust breaking the air between them.
Today, the vampire queen wore her red hair in a high bun with a few loose curls framing the sides of her face. Instead of her typical corseted dress, she had a very business-like black suit and skirt which contoured her curves all too well.
Especially her plump chest.
“Much as I loved my corseted dress, I suppose I must keep up with the times,” she said, clearly enjoying the attention she received. “Don’t you think, Liam?”
“I don’t care,” he snapped, looking away.
If Lilith were anyone else, Liam would say she was beautiful, tantalizing even. Then again, the vampire queen had glamoured him. She had also said he and Ava were soulmates.
Lilith might be pretty, but she was also a liar.
He draped his towel over his shoulder. “Well, I’m done for the day.”
The vampire queen drank her glass empty, then leaned back on the bench. “You’ve had some rough weeks. If you need help relaxing, just let me know.” She winked at him. “I can send some of my girls for you.”
He glared at Jal, silently asking him to intervene, but the demon simply shrugged and added, “Sex could help blow off some steam. And Lilith’s girls have experience with … things.”
“I don’t need to pay for sex, thanks,” he grumbled.
“Who said anything about paying?” Lilith frowned. “I do not run a brothel, you idiot. My girls enjoy activities of the sexual kind. Pleasure is what both sides get from this deal. And something tells me you aim to please.” She analyzed her own nails. “Carmelita and Annabelle have already made themselves available, should you so wish.”
He couldn’t remember what Carmelita and Anabelle looked like, but he must’ve walked past them in the Legion’s corridors.
The fact he hadn’t noticed them, or any woman really, showed him how far gone he was. How completely Ava owned him.
His thoughts rushed back to his Guardian, naked and underneath him, and his groin reacted to her.
He took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Liam turned to leave, aching for the coldest shower he could get.
“Wait a sec there, baby demon.” Jal caught up to him. “I have to take you somewhere. Let’s shower and then get rolling.”
Hmm, odd. Archie had ordered Liam to stay at the Legion and never leave without him.
Jal must’ve read the question in his face. “It’s Archie-approved, all right?” He tapped Liam’s shoulder playfully, but sensed his hesitation. “Okay, fine. He has no clue. But I wouldn’t be a demon if I didn’t break the rules every now and then.”
Jal and Liam crossed the park in silence, following a dimly lit path lined by lamp posts that belonged to the previous century. Car honks, shouting, and sirens—typical city noise—rang faintly in the distance, almost as if the park could absorb sound.
They both wore tight black shirts and dark blue jeans. Jal had lent a good deal of his damned and fire resistant clothes to Liam, which meant they often dressed the same. The smartass comments from Lilith about them being Tweedledee and Tweedledum had been endless. Still were, actually.
“What do you know about the current state of things?” Jal asked as they walked.
Liam shrugged. “Ava is in the Order, trying to imprison Talahel and help Ezraphael.”
The mention of her name stirred the darkness a little. He harnessed the focus he’d learned during his battles and surprisingly, the beast went back to sleep.
“Yes,” Jal said. “Ava’s mission is vital to our success. You have to know that. She didn’t leave you for nothing.”
True.
Still, Liam forced himself not to dwell on her sweet smile, her lavender scent, her soft curves …
“Without the Order,” Jal continued, “the Legion won’t have enough power to save the In-Betweens, humans, and even angels themselves. See, right now the Order is more castle of glass than mighty hand of the Gods. Ava is trying to save it from the inside, and none of us can help her … at least not in any significant way.”
“So, what’s the Legion doing?”
“Mostly?” Jal scratched his chin. “We’re protecting the In-Betweens while Jophiel comes up with a way to join our forces with the Order.”
Liam snorted. “The Legion considers the In-Betweens equal to angels. Humans, too. I don’t see the Order accepting that anytime soon.”
“Baby steps, yeah?”
Two pretty brunettes passed by them in jogging suits. They smiled at Jal and he whistled at them, watching the women go.
“The transition Jophiel wants is complicated,” he went on once they turned a corner. “Especially since angels hate werewolves and vampires for their attack on the Order.” He grunted to the night sky. “Thanks a lot, Lothar.”
“He’s not there,” Liam muttered, shoving his hands on his jean’s pockets.
The werewolf lord was dead. As a supernatural, he was simply gone. No Heavens for him. No Hells, either.
Just oblivion.
“Anyway,” Jal shrugged as he walked, “amid this mess, we can’t forget our true enemy: the demons who force the shift on werewolves and steal legal blood supplies from the vamps.”
“We don’t have enough manpower to protect the In-Betweens from Talahel and stop these demons, do we?”
“See, I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.” He punched Liam lightly on his shoulder, then joined his own hands. “As I said, Order plus Legion equals victory. It’s the only way.”
Liam considered this for a moment. “So, what are we doing here?”
“Well …” Jal scratched the back of his neck. “Remember the ‘we need all the help we can get’ part?”
Liam nodded.
“After Lothar’s death, werewolves deserted the Legion. We have a couple of rogue tail-swingers but not nearly enough.” He raised his index finger. “That’s where I step in.”
Right ahead, a group of humans sat in a circle under a willow tree. It was new moon today, so the figures blended perfectly with the darkness.
“They can’t hear or smell us from here.” Jal held Liam’s shoulder, stopping him. “After Lothar’s death, his birth son Suther ordered all packs to leave the Legion.”
Liam gaped at him. “Lothar had a birth son? Sure, vamps and dogs call anyone they turn their children, but can they actually procreate?”
“None of us can, knucklehead. Suther is Lothar’s actual son from when he was human. Daddy died and became a werewolf. Decades passed, his son aged, and when it was Suther’s turn to go, he became a werewolf too.” Jal watched the group with a certain sadness. “It would be heartwarming if it wasn’t so tragic.”
The story sunk into Liam, piercing his chest. He understood how painful losing a father could be, blood related or not. Even if Archie was fine now, he would never forget the sound of the old man’s heart monitor flatlining.
“Follow my lead,” Jal said.
The dogs raised their heads, catching their scent as they approached. It worked both ways. The stench of wet fur invaded Liam’s nostrils, too.
The men and women showed them their sharp canines but didn’t stand.
A first warning.
These weren’t weak werewolves or newly born, either. The size of their canines and their muscular build told Liam these were pack leaders.
Alphas.
The head of the group sat cross-legged atop a square rock. He might not be the biggest of them, but his proud straight posture denoted that here he was king.
“Always look them in the eyes,” Jal muttered.
“Not my first encounter with a bunch of Alphas, demon.”
“Then freaking look them straight in the eyes, demon.”
Liam wasn’t used to being called a demon yet, and the insult stung. He’d have to get used to it at some point, though.
Might as well be now.
As they approached, the man on the rock growled at them. A final warning.
Jal halted, so did Liam.
The man was actually young. Even though he resembled a bodybuilder and seemed to be taller than Liam, his face said he couldn’t be older than twenty. He had Lothar’s hazel eyes and the same straight nose, but his hair was longer and slightly curled. Liam bet that under the sun, it would turn a honey-gold like his father’s.
