by C. S. Wilde
After a moment of silence, the Captain said, “I deserve the pain. They’re probably suffering right now, and so should I.”
“Your suffering won’t help them.” She leaned closer and whispered, “They’re okay. I promise.”
The Captain’s jaw dropped when she caught Ava’s meaning. “By the Heavens. They really are?”
“Yes.” The word tasted like a lie. As far as Ava knew, Liam wasn’t okay. He suffered while she was here drinking her sorrows away.
Or gaining courage.
Her gaze searched for Ezra, who still scanned the room from the dance floor, looking for her. Agathe tried her best to catch his eye, but her attempts failed miserably.
Ava grinned.
The Guardian behind the bar returned with six more shots. She drank two in a row, her attention trapped on the Messenger.
“Are you used to drinking this much?” the Captain asked.
Ava shrugged and hunched over the counter. “Do you care?”
The Captain downed two shots herself and clicked her tongue. “Not particularly.”
Ava felt a pressure on her mental wall. She narrowed her eyes at the woman and asked, “What are you looking for?”
The Captain blinked. “Your wall is incredibly strong.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“But you’re a Dominion.”
“Yes.” Ava wished she could tell her more, but she had no clue why she could tap into different angelic powers.
If Jophiel himself couldn’t explain it, how could she?
The Captain studied her a little longer, then turned back to the two drinks left before them. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see my boys.”
Her forlorn tone was a cold blade slammed into Ava’s core. But the Legion was in her memories, and she couldn’t risk letting the Cap in.
Not yet.
“I can’t give you access.” She tapped her left temple, then laid her palm gently on the Captain’s hand. “But soon.”
She handed Ava the first of the remaining glasses, cheered, and then downed her own drink. Ava followed, quickly raising her hand to call for the Guardian.
He must be used to this by now because he soon came with four more drinks.
“Heavens, I might die tonight,” Ava grumbled, her words coming out slurred.
The Captain chuckled and patted her on the back. “You and me both, angel girl.” Her humor suddenly vanished as she stared ahead. “You know, when I died, all my memories came back. How Archie and I, well, Acheron was his name, how we loved each other …”
“I heard Acheron was a sensible and smart angel.”
“Younger than Michael too, who was like an older brother to him.” She giggled. “Oh, how the roles reversed.”
Ava noticed the tenderness in her words. “I would love to hear more about your adventures with them.”
Was there a point in knowing more about Liam’s past life, though? Michael and Acheron were gone forever. The Captain seemed to realize this because sorrow took over her features and she downed another drink, motioning for Ava to follow.
She promptly did.
“I remember Vera, too,” the Cap said quietly. “She took good care of me when I returned to my angelic form. She saw me at my worst and still, she stayed. I wouldn’t be here if not for her and Justine.”
Ava raised another glass. “To Vera and Justine.”
“Hear, hear.” She clinked her glass with Ava’s and drank. The Captain made a face as the liquid went down her throat. “Did you know Michael could’ve been the Sword instead of Talahel? But he preferred to keep fighting alongside his brothers, so that asshole got the job.”
Ava’s mind felt fuzzy. “Michael would’ve been a much better Sword than Talahel. Maybe then Vera would still be alive.”
“That she would.” The Captain raised her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Vera’s gone. Michael and Acheron are demons now, and they’ll never remember. They’ll never know.” She leaned closer. “He loved you, Ava. I’ve known Michael for centuries and Liam since he was seven. Neither ever looked at a woman the way they, he, looked at you.”
Ava’s throat tightened and breathing got harder. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I failed him. I keep failing him nonstop.”
The Captain glanced at the ceiling and raised one palm as if praying to the Gods for patience. “We’ve all fucking failed someone at least once in our lives. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Ava clinked her glass with the Captain’s. “That’s really fucking true.” She slapped her hand over her own mouth and whispered, “I said fucking!”
“I know!” The woman giggled. “I didn’t think you were capable of swearing!”
“Shhhhh.” Ava put a finger on her lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” The Captain winked at her, then took another glass.
The bartender was doing an outstanding job at getting them drunk beyond their wits.
A loud, flirty laugh caught Ava’s attention, and she looked back at the crowd. The Captain followed her gaze toward Ezra, who talked with Agathe.
The Throne had flushed cheeks and an easy smile on her lips, her body so close to his.
“Justine told me you’re his mate now,” the Captain said.
“That’s right.”
The Guardian put four more shots before them, sweat coating his forehead as he worked to attend all the inebriated angels who asked for drinks. Ava made a mental note to thank him later.
The Captain watched her own glass with predatory focus. “Ezraphael isn’t Michael, but Michael isn’t Liam anyway. Up is down and down is up.”
Ava took a swallow, not certain if she followed the Captain’s reasoning. Her thoughts mingled with one another, and she had to concentrate to speak. “Ezra needs me. I need him, too.”
“Do you?” She handed Ava another shot, and they cheered.
Heavens, Ava could barely feel her feet. Her mind was spinning. Her body felt overly light, but this was good. She had many reasons to feel guilty and frustrated, yet she couldn’t remember any of them. Happiness took over angst, bliss overcame sadness.
Ava couldn’t remember the last time she felt so fine.
“Your happiness lies with Ezraphael,” the Captain said with a long drawl. “You can never be with Liam, not now that he’s a demon. Both my boys are gone.” She downed her drink and asked for another.
“I …” The words were stuck in Ava’s throat.
“You don’t love the Messenger like you love Liam, I know.” The Captain shrugged. “But you don’t have a choice. A demon and an angel, together? When has that ever happened?”
Maybe with the Legion … but even that might be wishful thinking.
Enough about Liam.
Ezra was good to her. He could make her happy. She wouldn’t think twice before giving herself to him tonight.
The bartender handed the Captain more drinks.
“Perhaps you and I have more in common than you think.” She handed Ava a glass. “We’re both here and not with them.”
Ava leaned her head back and drank. She could feel liquid bliss pushing down her sadness and worry. No more about demons, Liam, and angels. She wanted to be happy, if only for now.
A hand rested on Ava’s shoulder and when she turned, a wide smile spread on her lips. “Ezra!” She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you could join us!”
He gaped at her with an amused grin, his hands pressing on the curve of her waist. “You’re drunk.”
She winked at him. “Heavily.”
Ava steadied herself on her feet, which proved harder than usual.
“Shelaria!” Justine approached the Captain from behind. Her friend was absolutely gorgeous in a glittering green dress. “There you are!”
“Mom’s here,” the Captain grumbled as she stood, doing her best to balance on both feet.
Ju
stine took one of her arms and wrapped it over her shoulders. The Captain leaned on her, clearly not able to stand by herself.
“I see you two had your own private party.” Justine pouted at Ava. “Next time, you better invite me. You owe me big time now.” She began moving away with the Captain. “Come on, dear. You’re not fully recovered yet.”
The Captain stopped in her tracks and pointed at Ezra. “You treat her right, angel boy. She’s special.”
A hiccup burst from Ava’s throat, and she made a salute. “Oh, Captain, my Captain!”
The woman waved a salute back dismissively, barely able to keep her eyes open.
She and Justine had disappeared into the crowd by the time Ezra’s touch hardened on Ava’s waist. She didn’t understand why he’d done it until she realized she had almost tumbled and fallen to the side.
“My hero,” she giggled as she caressed his strong biceps.
“I think it’s time to put you to bed,” he whispered and nibbled at her earlobe.
His breath bore the taste of Heavenly Tears and other drinks, the same as hers.
“Oops.” Ava put a hand on her lips. “Am I in trouble, my Messenger?”
He nudged his nose on her temple. “Perhaps.”
Happy. She could be happy with him.
He led her out of the ballroom and into the elevator. Ava felt so light, so carefree. She wanted to feel like this every day.
She hummed the tune of the last song that was playing before they left, something about endless fields of gold.
Ezra laughed, a sweet carefree sound that made her smile too. “You really had too much to drink.”
“Why do you love me so?” she blurted through her haze. “It oozes from you. When you let it out, that is.” She frowned. “Why are you letting it out now?”
“Because I like that you know. That you feel it.”
She tapped the bridge of her nose. “You just want to get in my panties.”
“That, too.” He smirked and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I care for you, Ava. So much …”
He leaned forward. Ava thought mindlessly that she should’ve stepped back, but then it was too late, and his lips were on hers.
They were warm and cold at the same time, passionate but lacking. This wasn’t him; it was her. She was the problem. So Ava wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss, hoping to find in him what she’d been missing all along.
Ezra took her with thirst. He pivoted around and slammed her against the elevator wall, his palms travelling from her breasts down to her butt cheeks. Excitement pooled in her depths as she rubbed against his bulging crotch.
Their ragged breaths mingled, and their excitement wafted in the cloistered elevator air, building, growing.
It was so warm …
Suddenly, Ava found that thing she’d been looking for. In him.
Finally!
She observed the man before her; the man she loved. His beautiful green eyes, his sharp squared jaw, the smooth olive skin that felt so good under her fingertips; even the prickly three-day stubble was there.
Flocks of dark hair brushed on his forehead as he gave her that perfect wide smile that was half-boy, half-man.
“I love you, Ava,” he said with Ezra’s voice.
Happy. She was so happy.
“I love you too, Liam.”
28
Liam
Small waves crashed on Liam’s bare feet. The pebbles on the shore pricked his soles, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the soothing sensation of water rushing on his skin. He hadn’t felt it in a while, and he didn’t know if he ever would again.
The city stood ahead like a mountain beyond the line of water. This early in the morning, the buildings resembled a conglomerate of sleeping gray towers. Ship horns rang faintly in the distance as cars crossed the bridge that connected the island to mainland.
He inhaled and closed his eyes, absorbing the salty tang of ocean air.
Her presence pulsed against his essence. Liam knew she stood behind him with her arms crossed.
“Why did you call me here?” Lilith asked.
He spun around and noticed her striking beauty had faded. Lilith looked exhausted and thin. So thin …
She scowled at him. At first he feared she had heard his thoughts, but Lilith wasn’t telepathic. The look on his face must’ve done the trick.
Liam stared at his own feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be meeting Master soon. I need you to help me protect my mind. Glamouring is similar to telepathy, right?”
“It’s a bit of both but not enough. Glamour stands somewhere between a Guardian’s empathy and a Virtue’s telepathy.” She shrugged. “If you wanted to hide your thoughts, you should’ve summoned Jophiel.”
“You know he and Jal are busy after what happened with the wolves. Look, Master is probably more powerful than a Possessor.” He tapped his forehead. “I need to protect what’s in here. They can’t get access, Lilith. If they do, the Legion is screwed.”
“Not exactly. Jophiel blurs the memories of all members,” she said as she stepped closer. “They’re clear to you, but to anyone peeking into your mind, everything Legion-related will be a disgruntled mess.”
That solved his main worry but not the main problem. “I need to get close enough to strike, and Master won’t let me if he reads my mind.”
She winced before throwing her hands in the air. “Fine. I can try. Maybe it will work, but that’s an enormous maybe.”
“It’ll have to be enough.”
She nodded, then crossed her arms, watching the line of water behind him. “How’s Archibald?”
Liam scratched the back of his neck. “He’s okay.”
The old man had gotten the twenty souls he needed to save his life, but he had grown quieter, more distant. Half the time, Liam doubted his mind occupied the same place as his body, but he figured this was Archie’s way to cope. Like he was shutting himself down to survive.
“Maybe I can help him,” she said.
She meant she could glamour Archie. Help him forget.
No.
The old man would never allow it. He might be wallowing and damaged, but he would never run from his demons. Literally.
“He’ll pull through.” Liam rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get this over with; we don’t have much time. I have to return to the Gorge soon.”
“Well, then. Picture a wall around your brain,” Lilith said as she fixed her red curls in a high ponytail that made her look slightly younger.
They stood face-to-face and all too near. Being this close to her made him uncomfortable. There were thoughts in his mind, thoughts that always reverted back to Ava. Thoughts that belonged to him and princess and no one else.
He stepped back and cleared his throat. “I don’t want you peeking in there.” He pointed to his head.
“I will have to.” She frowned. “The point of this exercise is to stop me at best and confuse me at worst. Now, close your eyes.”
Reluctantly, he did.
In the darkness, her voice came from everywhere. “You can shapeshift like a Beast which means you can probably mind-block like an Obsessor. So, let’s find your essence and see if we can bend it.”
Liam snorted. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Follow the darkness. And the light.” He felt her pointing somewhere behind him.
He turned and spotted a mass of darkness standing out from the rest. It beckoned to him, a dark deeper than dark. Liam hadn’t actually seen it; he’d felt it swirling in his core.
It moved forward, crossing the void that surrounded them. He followed it.
Soon enough, he spotted a beacon in the distance: a tower of golden lava bleeding into the dark. He couldn’t see where it started or where it ended.
The mass of darkness that led him here shot forward and spiraled up, wrapping itself around the tower.
“This is your essence, Liam. Dark and light
,” Lilith said with a certain awe, her voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
“Is it?”
He felt her pointing at the golden tower. “Call for them. Bend them to your will.”
Them? He frowned at Lilith’s voice because she was clearly losing her mind. Then he remembered where he was—inside his own essence.
He let out a deep breath and stretched his hand toward the mass of golden lava and smoky darkness.
As if they were wolves catching a scent, the booming forces halted. The lava stopped bleeding, the darkness stopped swirling around it. They just stopped.
And focused on Liam.
A cold sweat broke through his body. “Shit.”
“Don’t be afraid,” Lilith said right before the mass of light and dark shot at him.
The void around Liam rumbled and roared as the things approached. He kept his hand stretched, the other one protecting his face as if that could save him from the furious storm heading his way.
He closed his eyes. How that was possible he didn’t know—closing what was already shut—but he did it.
The rumbling stopped. Liam opened one eye to see golden and dark flames sprouting on his skin. He raised his palm and watched the forces play with each other. They didn’t hurt at all.
Why did he think they would hurt?
“Lilith?” he called, only now missing her presence.
She didn’t reply. She wasn’t here anymore.
A figure of light appeared ahead, cutting through the darkness. A man with long hair, hard muscles, and a kind smile. Liam saw himself in that man, even though they didn’t look much alike.
“Michael,” he muttered.
The man stopped before him, all dancing specks of light, as if he was made of fireflies. He was a good head taller than Liam. The Archangel gave him a friendly nod as his glittering wings flashed behind him, mighty as the man himself.
Michael pointed at the distance behind him. “Remember who we are.”
Something broke the darkness in a horizontal line. Liam couldn’t see it, only feel it.
A wall.
His golden and dark flames pushed him forward, dragging him through the darkness damn close to fucking light speed. When the forces driving him halted, he found himself before a giant wall of obsidian stone.
