by C. S. Wilde
The golden flames around his arm worked as a torch, and he could see his reflection on the surface. Michael’s, too.
Liam turned to the Archangel who stood beside him, his glittering form reflected on the obsidian. His former self watched his own reflection with a certain longing.
“Do you hate me for not being like you?” Liam asked quietly.
Michael chortled. “We’re one.”
“But I’m a demon now. I let people die, I … I couldn’t save them.” Fury possessed him all at once, and he fisted the wall. The impact reverberated down his immaterial bones, but it didn’t hurt more than his guilt.
Michael watched him in silence. “There’s always a price. If you let it happen, you were willing to pay it.”
He stared at Michael, not knowing what to say or do. Tears pricked his eyes.
“And yet,” Michael continued, “it all would’ve happened without you anyway. Firma would still have been killed, those humans at the pub, and that poor girl … Hauk would’ve killed the night guard, too.” He studied his reflection. “The guilt will always be with you, but sharing the burden with those who are truly guilty might help.”
“It’s not enough,” he muttered.
“It never will be,” Michael said. “We’re more similar than you think.” He observed Liam with love and kindness. “Don’t forget who you are. Also, watch over Acheron and Shelaria if you can.”
Who?
Images of Archie and the Cap flashed in his mind. A knot swelled in Liam’s throat, and breathing got hard.
“I’m trying, but the world keeps crashing around me, and—” The cry was right there, etched into his voice. He swallowed it down.
“It never stops.” Michael shrugged. “There’s always another mission, always the duty. But she can walk this road with you. And perhaps your feet won’t be so sore.”
She?
Did he mean Ava? “Is she our soulmate?”
“I could tell you.” Michael raised a sparkling eyebrow at him. “But you already know the answer.”
“Liam?” Lilith’s voice rung in the space around him. “Are you there?”
“I’m fine,” he shouted into the darkness. When he turned to Michael, the Archangel had disappeared. “I’m standing before a freaking wall!”
And talking to himself.
“This is insane,” he grumbled.
“It’s not,” she said, her tone still edging on worry. “I can feel the wall. I’ll try to pierce it, all right? Try to stop me.”
It was the same as trying to stop a car with his bare hands. Lilith broke through easily, and the impact threw Liam backward into the darkness. Breath fled his lungs but he quickly recovered, yet not before wondering how the Hells there could be a floor, and a wall, in his mind.
Mental projections, he guessed.
Lilith’s essence thrummed from beyond the pitch-black hole she’d pierced. The endless void around him spread atop the obsidian, and when it retreated, the crater was gone.
“Again,” she ordered from the other side.
Liam raised his flaming hand to find the spot’s surface as smooth as a black pearl.
“I’m having an acid trip, aren’t I?” He’d never actually had an acid trip, but it couldn’t be crazier than this.
Lilith went on, crashing through the wall and blasting him away, again and again.
“Fucking bloodsucker,” he grunted as he pulled himself back up for the umpteenth time.
He felt her grin from the open crack she’d just made. “I take it as a compliment. But you’re getting better. Come on, we don’t have all day.”
The light and dark in his body shook, growling at the hole—the path to Lilith.
Two beasts ready to prowl.
Liam didn’t have time to warn her before his powers shot through the gap and into the vamp, wherever she was.
His wall disappeared, and now Liam was standing inside a giant ballroom with a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Golden sconces cut across the marbled walls, drenching the fancy space in dim lights. Liam peered through the tall arched windows and at the night that swallowed the outside. A full moon shone beyond the glass.
He heard the ruffle of a skirt, and then Lilith passed by him. She wore a green corseted dress, and her hair was up in a loose bun that made her curls cascade down the back of her shoulders.
By her attire and this entire setting, this couldn’t be modern time. Liam guessed they must be somewhere in the 16th century.
The vampire queen looked younger somehow, or perhaps she just seemed happier. Carefree.
She bowed to a gentleman with amber skin and silky black hair tied in a low pony … holy shit.
Jal!
He was elegant in a black frock coat and white shirt. The demon bowed slightly to Lilith, gave her his hand, and they began dancing around the ballroom.
Liam had no idea where the mellow tunes that led the pace came from, but he guessed memories weren’t famous for being exact.
“Is this the last time?” Jal whispered close to Lilith’s ear.
The shine in her features faded, and all her happiness vanished. “I’m afraid so.”
He blinked back tears and kissed her forehead. “Then let’s make it count, love.”
On they went, dancing and turning until Lilith stopped. So did the music. Jal froze in place as his partner scowled at Liam.
“You weren’t supposed to see this,” Lilith snarled more than said, her fangs in full display.
“I-I …” He couldn’t gather the words.
In the blink of an eye, he was back at his wall, which had reformed itself. No hole pierced it anymore.
“Lilith, I’m so sorry,” he finally managed. “I hadn’t meant to—”
“It’s only natural,” she spat with annoyance. “You’re a demon, after all.”
Her words hurt, but he didn’t linger in them. “You and Jal were so happy. What happened?”
A weary chuckle rang from the darkness around him. “Fate ruined it, as it always does.”
Liam remembered the first time he met Ava. How beautiful her sky-blue eyes were and how the world stopped when she smiled. The feeling of her soft lips on his, and the warmth of her body as they made love … Gods. That was an eternity ago.
Yeah, fate could be a bitch.
Energy piled on the other side, a sign that Lilith was about to strike. “Focus, Liam.”
He spread his flaming palms on the wall.
The onyx surface thrummed underneath his fingertips, showing him the faces of all those he’d failed. He already knew Firma, but Liam had dug for the others’ names—being a detective had its perks.
Madeleine, the working girl. Juarez, the night guard. And Dhalia, the teenager.
Liam collected the names of all those who’d faced violence and cruelty because of this godsdammned war. Lothar. Archibald. Kevin. The Cap. He carved them in his mind for the reckoning with Hauk and Master.
His light shot through the obsidian wall, making it shine like the sun. His black flames ran through the surface, half-covering the light with veins of darkness.
This time, Lilith didn’t pierce through.
Archie met Liam outside the warehouse. The old man trapped him in a hug that both warmed his heart and scared the Hells out of him.
“Old man, what’s going on?”
Archie let him go. “You know the party planned for today? It’s Hauk’s wedding.”
“What the fuck?” Juniper came to mind, along with all the times she’d gone up to Hauk’s office. The entire Gorge had heard their grunts and moans from the second floor. Liam recalled the awkwardness in the air as the demons below tried to ignore the screaming lovebirds. “I assumed he and Juniper weren’t serious.”
“Me neither. My gut’s telling me something’s off.” For the first time in a while, Archie looked sharp and on edge, once again Liam’s fierce partner.
He was glad the old man had gathered his shit, especially now. “Whatever i
t is, we’ll figure it out.”
“Always, son.” He patted Liam’s shoulder. “I won’t let you down again.”
His nostrils flared, and he slapped Archie’s chest. “You never have! We’re both doing our best, and you should remember that.”
It wasn’t enough for his father, it never would be; he could see that. But they had other matters to worry about.
They went inside the warehouse and observed the tables covered with black cloth. They were filled with snacks and drinks. Black ribbons hung from the walls and ceiling but still allowed daylight to venture through the windows. A soft, melodic tune came from the speakers at the back of the room.
He sat with Archie on a large beanbag in the corner. Soon enough, Pedro found them and sat beside Liam.
The fucker followed him like a puppy.
Ahead, Hauk talked with the Possessor as he held a drink in his hand. He seemed happy; no, ecstatic. It was odd seeing that asshole this way.
Liam’s attention went to the Possessor, and his blood ran cold in his veins. His throat tightened, and he had to remind himself to breathe.
“I hate those things,” Pedro whispered from his left, nodding at the languid figure covered with a long black cloak. Death as in the horror stories. “You think they’re fixing the date when we’ll meet Master?” He rubbed his hands eagerly. “It’s like meeting the devils themselves, you know?”
“We’re two lucky sons of bitches.” Liam forced a smile. “It means a lot that Hauk trusts us with this.”
The Possessor raised a finger at the Gorge’s leader, displaying bone-white fingers that could very well be exactly that: bones.
Hauk patted it on the shoulder as old friends do, almost as if he were assuring the Possessor everything would be fine. Liam couldn’t catch what “everything” might be, though.
The music grew louder as a girl all clad in black entered the warehouse. The hem of her dress brushed the floor as she moved, and her bouquet was made of black and blue roses. Her curly hair was trapped in a puffy high bun, and her dark beady eyes were contoured by coal eyeliner.
Liam froze, and his stomach dropped to his feet.
Dhalia. The girl from the pub.
This was a nightmare; it had to be.
By her eyes and sharp teeth, she was newly turned. Hauk had raped her, forced a deal on her, then released the poor girl only to come back later and end her life.
There was something wrong with this picture, though. Dhalia smiled, her attention fixed on Hauk, who watched her with adoration. They looked nothing short of an elated bride and groom.
The demon opened his arms and she increased her pace, rushing toward her freaking rapist!
Liam’s breakfast sizzled in his stomach.
Dhalia hugged Hauk fiercely, the way only a lover would. Apparently, she’d forgotten all the unforgivable things he’d done to her.
The Possessor had used his own darkness to seal the deals. Maybe this erased the victim’s memory. Maybe it changed them.
Failing to control the rage and desperation thrashing inside, Liam stood and walked to them. He’d let that girl suffer once. He wouldn’t do it again.
“What in all the Hells?” he blurted.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Hauk drew a line with his finger on Dhalia’s chin and gave her a peck on the lips. “My bride’s darkness is Master’s darkness, and it’s glorious.”
Dhalia grinned at her groom with sharp pointed teeth.
Liam’s chest hurt.
Gods, how he had failed her. How he’d failed them all …
He swallowed down the rush of red, roaring wrath, only now remembering he balanced on a tight rope.
“Look, I’m all up for this, but doesn’t she remember?” Liam poked Hauk with his elbow. “If I were you, I’d be careful. She might chop off your dick on your honeymoon.”
The demon burst in laughs, then patted him starkly on his back. “I appreciate your concern about my dick, but she won’t harm me.” He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. “Master’s gifts are plentiful.”
“I remember everything,” the girl said, her chin held high. “And I don’t care. A part of me even enjoyed it.”
Liam’s throat might’ve turned into shards of glass. “Is that so?”
She considered the question for a moment. “I suppose it hurt when my love took me from my home and slammed a dagger in my chest, but when I woke, I was blessed by the dark. I’m immortal now. What a wonderful gift he gave me.”
What kind of brainwashed shit was this?
Hauk kissed the girl’s temple with the gentleness of a caring lover. “She’s here because she enjoyed being with me. Naughty little thing.”
She’d enjoyed being raped and murdered? No chance in all the Hells.
Perhaps the darkness the Possessor imbedded in her tainted Dhalia’s mind. Liam’s own darkness had been cruel and maddening but not like this.
This was much worse.
He faked nonchalance as he tapped Hauk’s shoulder. “Hey man, I’m happy for you.” He ogled Dhalia up and down and felt dirty for it. “Maybe one day you can get me a bride, too.”
Hauk bared his teeth in a ferocious grin. “All of Master’s children will get what they deserve.” He stepped aside and clapped his hands, addressing all demons in the warehouse. “It’s time!”
They all gathered before the Possessor and the starring couple.
The thing uttered ancient words Liam couldn’t understand. Eventually, pitch-black clouds puffed from Hauk’s body and mingled with Dhalia’s own darkness. After a moment, the clouds disappeared in thin air.
The Possessor hissed, “It issss done.”
Hauk kissed her, and the demons around them cheered loudly. Their sick matrimony had been sealed.
Gods, this was torture.
Booming music exploded from the speakers as a rush of demons went to congratulate Hauk and his bride.
Liam stepped back and went to the bean bag. Archie sat there alone, watching the crowd, his expression revealing nothing.
“This won’t destroy me, kid,” he whispered as he watched Pedro shake Hauk’s hand. “I want these bastards’ heads more than anything.”
The force of nature called Archibald Theodore Brennan was back, and he wouldn’t take any prisoners.
“We’ll end this, Archie. Even if it’s the last thing we do.”
Liam’s darkness suddenly tingled. Someone was watching.
The Possessor observed him from underneath its hood, three yellow eyes glinting in the darkness.
Liam felt languid, cold fingers caressing his wall, and when he forced his light to the surface, pulsing underneath the veins of darkness, the fingers retreated.
He cleared his mind just in case, fueling his brain with images of a world ruled by demons, and then red pulsing hate. Hate for angels and for Ezraphael. Hate for the Order, too.
The Possessor chuckled and stepped toward him. “Massster will be delighted to meet you,” it hissed more than spoke. “Your esssence isss exquisite.”
Liam forced pride and gratitude onto himself. “It will be my honor.” He glanced at Archie, who watched them with worry. Liam nodded to him. “It will be an honor for us both.”
“Hauk sssaid just you and the other.” The thing pointed at Archibald. “Thisss one hasss yet to prove himself.”
Well, at least he tried.
“Sounds peachy,” Liam countered with fake glee. “When will I be meeting Master?”
The thing inhaled deeply. “Tonight, young demon. Tonight you’ll face the one we worship.”
29
Liam
The sun was still shining by the time Hauk left the party to consummate his marriage. Well, leaving was an overstatement; he simply went to his room on the second floor.
Knowing how loud Hauk could be, Liam was grateful for the booming music that permeated the ground level.
One hundred demons partied and drank furiously—the Gorge’s numbers had increased since he’d joi
ned. Some challenged their peers in arm wrestling, others danced around like maniacs. A group on the left battled playfully and for no reason, while some, such as Phil and Lacey, lost all common sense and had sex in front of everyone.
No surprise. Demons tended to go overboard in everything they did.
It was dark by the time Hauk called Liam and Pedro to his office upstairs.
They entered the space to find the Gorge’s leader behind his table, reading some documents. His wife lounged on a wine-colored couch near the corner. She looked blissful and exhausted.
Liam promised himself he would figure out what the Possessor did to that poor girl. Thousands of humans out there would share the same fate if they died, people he and Archie had helped damn.
Hauk raised his head and winked at Dhalia. Pheromones hung heavy between them, their arousal a near physical force. Liam’s stomach churned, but he kept his face a mask.
The demon turned to him and Pedro, then propped his elbows on the table. “Now that I have my wife, I can focus on other pressing matters,” he said. “As you know, a werewolf stole the wolfsugar we had stored in the warehouse. I did not forget about it. I will not forgive.”
“Yeah, we heard,” Pedro said. “We want to catch that fucker, too. They killed Abrielle, and she was a fine piece of ass, you know what I’m saying?”
Idiot.
Liam whistled. “A dog doing that much damage? It’s nuts. They must be really desperate.”
“Yes and no.” Hauk raised his index finger. “Someone from the Gorge leaked information to the wolves. They knew exactly where to go and where to find the guards. They had the advantage over Abrielle, and they killed her with one bite. No normal wolf could’ve done that.”
“Maybe it was the werewolf lord,” Pedro offered.
“If Lothar was alive, I wouldn’t doubt it.” Hauk shook his head. “But his son is weak.”
Liam tapped Pedro’s chest. “We’ll find out who it was, boss.”
“No need.” Hauk peered at them with undecipherable eyes. “I trusted this information to only a few, but any of them could’ve opened their mouths. Including both of you.”
