by C. S. Wilde
This vision hurt her the worst, because this was Liam as he used to be. The Liam she had failed. The Liam who had died so that this demon was born.
“Back to the way we were?” he asked with a cruel smirk.
Her chest pricked, and Ava barely managed to breathe. “I’m not sure that the angel you fell in love with still exists. I’m not her anymore, even though I wish I was.” She reached for his hand, but he pulled back.
She wanted to tell him about the darkness inside her and how she had beheaded Gabriel without any mercy or guilt. How she had gotten her wings through fury and bloodthirst.
“I’m not the Guardian you used to know. You would be so disappointed in me now,” she whispered.
“You’re right,” he growled. “You’re not my Ava, you bitch.”
His words hurt like physical blades that pierced her chest and ripped her soul.
Liam walked forward, a train of wrath and muscle about to run her over. Anger and contempt gushed from him, but by all the Gods, she would not fail him again.
She would not run.
“Please,” she begged, shrinking before his looming form. “I won’t fight you.”
“Enough!” Jophiel boomed as he approached. “This is no good for either of you. Liam, you must understand that Ava’s work with the Messenger is of extreme importance—”
Liam bellowed something raw and guttural, a cry that shook the room’s glassed wall. Flames burst from his skin again.
“Perfect Ava with her perfect Messenger,” he spat with revulsion.
“Control it,” Jophiel warned.
Perfect? There was nothing perfect about her. How could he see her that way?
“Princess, princess, princess.” He shook his head. “You’re right. We’re not who we used to be anymore.”
He swiveled and punched Jophiel in his stomach, surprise giving Liam all the advantage he needed.
The Seraph flew across the room and into the window. His body slammed against the blessed surface, and it cracked.
The unbreakable window actually cracked.
Before Ava could react, Liam took momentum and boosted toward her, jabbing the side of her ribcage. The sheer power of his attack flung her onto the opposite wall.
Breath fled her lungs as her back hit concrete. Her entire body hurt, and she struggled to balance on her own feet. She vaguely recorded the scent of burnt flesh.
When she looked down, she noticed her white bodysuit had been vaporized over the wound. Dry, blackened skin formed a circle across half of her trunk.
Her healing took over, numbing the overwhelming pain, which wasn’t greater than the pain of knowing who had inflicted it.
Let him give her the final peace.
Ava had failed Liam, and she deserved to be punished. No more light and dark, Order and Legion. No more Ezra and Liam.
Nothing but blissful oblivion.
He blinked and stepped back, glaring at his shaking, burning hands. “Ava, I’m so sorry.” He turned to her, tears streaming down his face and turning to vapor because of the heat. “I slay monsters. I’m not one of them!” He bent over and clawed both hands on his head. “Shut the fuck up!”
Somehow she had fallen atop her ankle in a bad angle, so she limped toward him as her healing took care of it. “You can get through this.” Tears blurred her vision. “You will get through this.”
“We won’t.” The Liam she knew disappeared, replaced by the demon. He stomped toward her and raised his flaming hand.
Ava prepared for the strike and the burn. If this was her end, she would face it without fear.
But the flames vanished.
Instead of ending her, Liam caressed her cheek with his palm. It felt warm to the touch, warmer than human skin but not scorching.
“I will never hurt you again. I’m so sorry, Ava.” His face crumpled in pain. He bit his teeth and closed his eyes. “Shut up!”
He stepped back, and fire bloomed over his body again, turning him into a human torch. He kept shaking his head as if a thousand bees were zinging around him. When Liam fell to his knees, bellowing his lungs out, Ava thought she had lost him forever.
She had failed to protect him, and now he was being consumed by darkness.
Well, she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. To the Hells with duty, with the Order, and the Legion.
“I will be here for you,” she promised. “I won’t abandon you again.”
He glared at her with absolute horror. “No, Ava! By the Gods, I can’t hold it much longer!”
A blur of light grabbed Liam by his neck, lifting him off the ground. Golden light coursed through Jophiel’s veins, glittering rivers underneath his dark skin.
The Seraph’s light burned Liam so fiercely that the scent of singed flesh wafted throughout the room.
“Stop!” she yelled. “You’re hurting him!”
“This will help him find his angelic light, Ava. It’s there, drowned by the dark,” Jophiel said simply, his attention on Liam. “It will be painful, but no one can heal him better than I.”
Liam’s cries filled the room, piercing her ears, her heart, everything.
“Stop!” She balled her fists.
Her golden shield spread atop her body in a thin, cold layer that tingled her skin. “Stop, or so help me Gods, I’ll make you release him!”
Jophiel observed her from above his nose until finally he gave in. His skin stopped shining and he freed Liam, who slumped on the floor.
His breaths were a horrid wheezing sound that belonged to a dying man.
Ava threw herself at him, checking his burnt flesh. She shot her healing light into his body, and maybe she was going crazy, but she felt it connect with something underneath the darkness.
A shy, flickering light of Liam’s own.
Her beast of dark watched from inside the rift, and Ava could swear she, it, waited for something. But what it was, she had no clue.
Liam raised his face, and Ava peered right through the demon, into the man he used to be.
He gave her a weak smile. “Your light, princess …” He closed his eyes, and his muscles relaxed under her touch.
“You better take her from here, Jo.” A bulky demon with sandy hair leaned against the doorframe.
He was absurdly tall, and Ava blinked twice to make sure she hadn’t gone mad.
She had to be hallucinating. The man was a giant, but then again, he wasn’t exactly a man. His darkness was strong, and it thrummed against her essence, telling her what he really was: a second-tier demon.
His wings weren’t on display, which meant he didn’t mean to fight.
“Their light and dark are connected in a strange way,” Jophiel told the demon. “Liam isn’t strong enough yet, which is why his darkness reacts so violently to hers. Their powers want to connect but can’t. I’ve never seen something similar to this.”
“Well, we can’t run any risks, not with everything that’s at stake.” He nudged his chin toward Ava as he walked inside the room. “My son has a mission. Being close to you clearly won’t help. I’m sure you understand the sacrifices we must make in the name of duty.”
Ava stared at him. “Archibald?”
That was all she could muster. Heavens, he seemed much younger than the picture on his file.
The man nodded. “Hello, Ava. I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
Jophiel went to her and kindly took Ava’s hand, bringing her to her feet. “Let’s go, dear.” When he grabbed the sides of her arms with his strong hands, she realized this wasn’t a request.
“I’m not leaving! Not again.” She tried to break free of Jophiel’s grip, but his fingers were iron and stone. “I abandoned him once, for duty, for the greater good, and look what happened.”
She couldn’t recognize her own voice. A deep sadness was carved into her tone, tattooed there forever.
“If you care for him, you must let him go.” Jophiel pulled her away from Liam too easily, as if Ava were made
of sticks and air.
She looked back at her partner, her charge, her lover, who now crouched on the ground, his forehead stamped on the padded floor, his body shaking.
“Go,” Liam croaked, his voice almost muted.
Her legs faltered, but Jophiel kept his hold on her as he dragged her out of the training room.
She fought him with all the strength she could gather, and still, it wasn’t enough.
They passed by the broad shouldered giant, and he laid a bulky hand on her shoulder. “Give him time,” he said kindly. “Give it to yourself, too.”
If she could speak, she would have begged him to let her stay.
“Liam needs to disperse his darkness,” Jophiel told Archibald.
The demon let out a weary sigh and cracked his knuckles. “The boy has always been good at releasing steam. Should be no problem.”
“What do you mean?” Ava managed.
Jophiel and Archibald exchanged a worried glance before he continued dragging her out of the room.
The giant demon closed the door behind them.
Soon screams gushed from inside; angry war cries that turned into beastly growls. And they belonged to Liam.
Jophiel kept dragging Ava, his arms tightly wrapped around her.
The windowed wall of the training room shook.
She fought the Seraph, but it was the same as trying to break free from a giant python tightly coiled around her. At some point, he held her so strongly that Ava could barely breathe.
“What’s happening?” she demanded. “Please, let me go! He’s hurting him!”
From the distance, Liam bellowed her name.
She cried his.
Jophiel didn’t stop.
11
Ava
Memories of what happened crowded Ava’s thoughts. She tossed and turned the entire night, and she cried—Gods, she sobbed.
“Will you want me now, Ava?”
Guilt, freezing and consuming, bolted through her nonstop. The doubt Ezra had planted grew stronger with each passing hour.
Had she truly mixed her feelings?
The Guardian Liam put on a pedestal was far from perfect. In all her kindness and devotion, she had gotten him killed. Also, that foolish angel had been certain she loved him, but maybe she was wrong. And in being wrong, she hurt him.
She hurt them both.
Getting out of bed the next day felt as easy as carrying a mountain on her shoulders, but eventually, Ava went on to perform all her duties as Ezra’s mate.
She attended meetings with Dominions, Virtues, and the occasional Archangel. She also listened to their wishes and complaints, patiently telling them she would pass them on to the Messenger. Which she didn’t, of course, since Ezra was avoiding her.
He should’ve attended at least four meetings but was nowhere to be found. He also ignored her messages.
Ava hoped he wasn’t upset that she had left him at the Legion without explanation, but she knew better. Confronting him seemed like a bad idea in any case, so she gave him the time he needed.
The following days passed in a succession of neatly-timed events. Ava would get up and check the tablet on her dresser for all the meetings she had to attend. Ezra always planned the schedule beforehand, so they were never in the same space at the same time.
She would then go about her day, more automated robot than anything else. Ava fulfilled her duties, had lunch—whenever she managed to eat more than a forkful—and worked on ad hoc requests, such as running background checks on humans who would attend an upcoming political event.
Dominions Cheng and Luzacima handled the care of two key politicians in the matter, guiding them as Ava had once guided her charges.
She was glad to help with the research, but deep down, cold, gray jealousy filled her chest. While Cheng and Luzacima were out there helping others, Ava was stuck here, trying not to think of anything.
She missed fieldwork and helping those in need. But how could she watch over someone when she’d become romantically involved with her last charge? Maybe Liam would still be alive if they hadn’t been together.
Back at the docks, she’d felt his life slipping through her fingers, and there had been nothing she could do.
What kind of angel did that make her?
This morning, she simply didn’t get up. Ava lay there, watching the ceiling of her room, stuck in a numb void and feeling that she failed everyone around her: the Legion, the Order, Ezra, Liam, and especially herself.
“Dominion Lightway,” the robotic tune of her scheduler rang from the tablet. “You are late for your ten o’clock meeting.”
As much as she would prefer it, Ava couldn’t waste an entire day, not when she was the Messenger’s mate. Her duties always came first.
Eventually, she got up.
At lunch time, hunched over the cafeteria table, she drew circles on her plate with her fork, avoiding the cold vegetables and chicken.
“Oh, Hells.” The voice came from Ava’s left, and when she raised her head, she saw Vera standing beside her.
The old owl sat across from her and leaned over the table, her words a whisper. “All this sadness and angst are nearly palpable to other Dominions. Hide them, Ava. They’re no one’s business but your own.”
She blinked, taking longer than usual to digest her former mentor’s words. Finally, she nodded and strengthened her mind wall, wrapping her essence around itself.
“Always keep you to yourself.” Vera gave her an approving nod. “Hiding emotions is the greatest skill a Dominion can have.”
Ava frowned. “Why?”
“We are the most powerful children of the Goddess of Love and Life.” The old owl forked her food and ate quickly, speaking between swallows and mouthfuls. “We’re supposed to inspire and take care of others. If everyone could see we don’t have our shit together, our reputation would be ruined.”
Ava chuckled at Vera’s knack for telling things as they were, then pushed the vegetables around her plate with the fork. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with the Legion?”
Vera peered at Ava, her mouth a flat line. “Does it matter?”
“I suppose it doesn’t.”
“Indeed.” After a long pause, her former mentor sighed. “Still, I owe you the truth. I didn’t tell you because you had a lot to handle. Besides, the last time we spoke you hadn’t been assigned to that Selfless yet. And then the attack on the Order happened, and all Hells went loose.”
Ava drew a deep breath. “Everything changed so fast.”
“It did. But the world doesn’t change, dear. Only we do. It’s a reflection of our choices.” Vera let her words hang between them as if she expected Ava to figure some hidden meaning woven into them.
Instead, Ava crossed her arms and looked away. “I just want to curl up in bed and sleep.”
“A bit of advice?” Vera offered but left Ava no time to oppose. “The choices you made have consequences, and you must face them. Only then,” she pointed at Ava’s chest, “will the void inside you go away. And maybe, you might find the answers and the balance you so clearly crave.”
“You sound a lot like a certain Seraph we know,” Ava grumbled.
Vera shot her a proud grin. “Why, thank you.” She clasped her hands on the table and leaned closer. “You know, Ezra is a worthy angel.”
Ava narrowed her eyes at her, wondering where Vera was going with this.
“He always tried to break the stupid rules,” she continued. “It was the good in him, Ava, shining through. He’s important to the Legion and to the Order.”
“You’re stating the obvious,” Ava countered dryly. “I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case.”
She raised one knowing eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you?”
Ava couldn’t say. She loved Ezra for his kindness and his heart, and when he’d needed her, she didn’t hesitate to stand beside him.
Loved. The word sat there, its mere presence making her uncomfortable.
“I would like you to see her,” the old owl blurted. “When she’s ready, of course.”
“Who?”
“Shelaria.” She tapped her own chin. “You used to know her as the Nine-five’s Captain.”
“She doesn’t want to see anyone.” Ava’s voice was a dim sound. “Justine is taking care of her.”
“Yes, but eventually the Captain will call for you. I’m the Dominion assigned to her emotional health, so I would know.”
Of course. Justine might take care of the Captain’s thoughts and memories, but Vera worked on her emotions. One was complementary to the other.
As far as Ava knew, turning into an angel after being a Selfless wasn’t an easy process. Centuries of memories flooded their sense of self, mingling with the memories of their past human life. Many angels went mad in the process and required extensive help, sometimes for decades.
“She will also want to see Liam.” Vera rubbed her forehead. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Liam, Ezra, Shelaria. They all hung heavy on Ava’s conscious. The sudden need to cry climbed up her throat, but she swallowed it back.
“I’m failing everyone I care about,” she mumbled.
The old owl smirked and held Ava’s hand. Love and compassion shot from her, feeding Ava’s essence. “That’s simply not possible, dear. You and Ezra are the best angels I ever trained.”
Vera wasn’t one to enjoy long displays of emotion, so she gave Ava a supportive nod before clearing her throat and leaning back on her chair, arms folded. “You’re clearly done with your food.” She looked side to side as if making sure they had enough privacy. “Let’s walk. I need to discuss something with you.”
They put their trays away and exited the cafeteria. Up here, in the levels exclusive to ascended angels, the corridors were wider and brighter than in the lower levels.
Nothing in the Order was fair.
Her dark and light beasts growled in unison. Ava couldn’t stand the inequalities either, but she calmed the powers inside her. It was only a matter of time until she and Ezra changed things.
