Blessed Fury: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Angels of Fate Book 1)

by C. S. Wilde

  His groans of pain came out shallow from outside the apartment.

  Lothar grinned at Ava as he took one of the guns.

  Heavens, she’d face her final death today.

  Instead of shooting her, the werewolf lord pressed his hand around the gun, and metal crumpled like paper until the weapon turned into a ball of iron. He dropped it to the ground and laughed an unnatural, graveled sound. He then left the other gun atop the kitchen counter, as if daring Ava to lunge for it.

  The bones in Lothar’s body cracked underneath his skin, reshaping him entirely. His nose stretched into a snout, and his legs turned hinged. Dark hairs sprouted everywhere as his hands morphed into claws.

  Fear froze Ava where she stood. Her first instinct was to run, but she wouldn’t have time to pick up Liam in the corridor and take him with her, not when he was likely injured. She had to buy Liam time by keeping Lothar busy.

  She pulled out her sword and remembered her first and only lesson with her partner. Steady base, tight defense. Quick, simple movements. She spread her essence atop her skin, hardening her protective shield just as Lothar finished his transformation.

  The mighty wolf man stood on hinged legs, his dark grey fur long and silky under the sunlight that peered through the windows. He snarled and crouched on all fours before lunging at Ava.

  The ground shook beneath his steps, and Ava gripped the sword harder, even if her hands quivered violently. She might drop her only defense against the beast any second now.

  Instead of crashing into Ava, Lothar suddenly halted and stood straight, towering over her. He watched the tip of her sword with amusement.

  Drool dripped from his snout and fell on the floor. He growled a laugh, then slapped the sword out of her hand the way one would slap a bug. All too quickly, he punched Ava through the open door and into his bedroom.

  Her body crashed through the bed posts and then slammed against the wall. Her spine and skull pounded with pain, her vision blinking in and out as she fell on the mattress. When Ava patted the back of her head, her hand came back bloodied. Either her shield was too weak or this creature was too powerful. She had no time to find out, because Lothar prowled toward her, crouched on all fours, his murderous sneer showcasing sharp teeth.

  What wafted from his essence was violent and raw, but strangely enough, Ava caught a dose of harmless mischief mingled with it. Like he was playing with her. In all honesty, would she still be here if Lothar wanted her dead? He could’ve also shot Liam when he’d grabbed his holy gun, but he hadn’t.

  Heavens, was she already losing her mind?

  From the living room floor, Ava’s sword pulsed, beating in time with her heart. She felt the pulse thrumming under her skin, down to her bones, and then deeper, so much deeper, piercing through her essence. Each beat tore a rift inside her, a warm, golden line that grew with every thump.

  Beat. Rip. Beat. Rip.

  The gunshot came from the living room and slammed into Lothar’s back. The werewolf whined and crumpled on the floor, but he would recover quickly.

  Liam leaned on the kitchen counter, the left side of his forehead painted red. He had the smoking holy gun in his hand.

  Ava didn’t flinch. She jumped from the bed and ran toward him, picking her sword up from the floor on the way. Angry barks erupted from behind her, but she didn’t look back. Liam fired again and again, blue blasts that shot past Ava and hit the werewolf chasing her.

  A fourth shot was followed by the thump of a bulky body hitting the ground.

  Liam grabbed her hand as she reached him. “Let’s go before he heals.”

  They were almost at the door when Liam shouted in pain and let go of her hand. The werewolf had sunk his sharp claws in Liam’s left leg. Blood burst from Liam’s ripped veins, and arteries too, considering how far the blood sprayed.

  Lothar reacted slowly, blinking in and out of consciousness, the human in him fading. Ava could see the beast trying to take over behind his red eyes, but also the man trying to stop it.

  Sweat bloomed in Liam’s forehead as he held screams. He withdrew his sun dagger and slammed it into Lothar’s claw. The wolf growled in pain, sluggishly letting go of his leg.

  “Go Ava,” Liam ordered through gritted teeth, his calf in shreds. “Now!”

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  She sheathed her sword and tried to snatch Liam up, but the half-conscious wolf man let out a long snarl, his eyes glinting with fury and something primeval, something that hadn’t been there before.

  Even in his wolf form, Ava had been able to see a part of Lothar beneath the beast, but now he seemed devoid of logic and reason, the human in him completely gone.

  “Fuck,” Liam muttered before Lothar grabbed his good leg and swung him out of the open window.

  13

  Ava

  Ava’s breath caught in her throat as Liam spun midair. He grabbed the edge of the balcony’s glass railings just in time, and his body thumped against the surface from the other side. His fingers strained to prevent a deadly fall, but by the pain carved on Liam’s face, he wouldn’t hold for long.

  Ava ran toward the window that led to the balcony, but something snatched her foot—the injured werewolf had grabbed her calf.

  Lothar was extremely weak and bordering on unconsciousness, and still, he grabbed her with the strength of an iron chain.

  The sword’s pulse beat inside Ava, and her chest began to glow. The glimmer swam down her legs, rushing through her veins, until it concentrated on her calf. The pulse beat again, and her tendons shone bright before smoke burst from her skin, the scent of burnt dog hair and flesh invading her nostrils.

  Lothar howled in pain and let her go, brandishing his burnt hand in the air. She turned to Liam just in time to see him mouth a curse and fall.

  Lothar’s barks boomed behind her as Ava flung herself out of the window and over the balcony, falling fast, cutting through the air.

  She reached Liam mid-fall, pressing his muscular frame against her. The befuddled look on Liam’s face called her an idiot.

  She didn’t care.

  Ava pulled her shield from within her essence, hoping it would be enough, even though she knew better. The rift inside her beat in unison with the sword on her waist, and a thick layer of molten gold spread across their bodies, coating their skin. She and Liam became golden statues in a deadly fall.

  Would they bleed red or yellow?

  They hit the ground the way a comet ends life on a planet. The sidewalk caved with the impact, and a wall of debris rose around them, quickly leaving a cloud of pulverized concrete dust hanging in the air.

  Even with Ava’s strongest shield, bones should’ve cracked, organs should’ve been smashed. Instead, Ava felt as if she had landed from a small jump.

  The few people on the street screamed and ran away, one or two drivers left their cars to do the same. The clean-up teams would have fun fixing this.

  Liam gaped at the layer of shiny gold on his skin, which had started receding back into Ava until they were both as they used to be.

  “What the Hells,” he muttered, glaring at her.

  A wolf’s howl came from the building’s top floors, and Ava scrambled to her feet, helping Liam up. She swung his arm on her shoulders and off they went.

  Liam winced and held grunts of pain. The deep cuts on his leg poured blood, and Ava could see half of his tibia. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he kept limping on one leg, his breathing shallow and ragged.

  They managed to reach a small park, not far from Lothar’s building, before Liam let go of her and fell on the ground. “I can’t. You need to run, princess.” He unsheathed his sword. “I’ll buy you time.”

  He coughed and a trickle of blood flowed down the edge of his mouth. Damned the Hells, his lungs might’ve been punctured.

  She sat by his side. “I’m not leaving.”

  The pulsing light inside her shot through her veins again, making her hands glow. Ava stared at them in wo
nder. This glow was different from the one that had burned Lothar—Ava had no idea how or why she knew that. While the other glow sought to burn and destroy, this light was warm, soothing. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to do.

  She spread her hands on Liam’s leg, and he recoiled in the way of someone being branded by a hot iron. But the pain couldn’t have been that bad, since his leg soon relaxed under her touch.

  The rift inside Ava’s essence hurled warmth, as if a shining summer day had burst within her. The light in her hands spread across his leg, penetrating skin and bone, mending limbs and tissue as easily as Ava could lift a finger.

  “How are you doing this?” Liam wheezed, then coughed more blood. “Have you ascended to Dominion when no one was watching?”

  Ava glanced behind her back, fear and hope making a strange mix. If she had become a Dominion, she would have wings by now, but there was nothing there. Ava quickly realized why. “I haven’t forced emotions onto someone else. It’s the last power required for a Guardian to ascend to Dominion.”

  Liam glared at her healing hands. “Well, it seems to me you’re almost there.”

  Another howl came from the werewolf’s apartment, and a gray dot fell from the top like an arrow ripping through the air. Then a harsh thump followed, similar to the one they made when they landed.

  Lothar might’ve broken some limbs, but he would recover quickly from the fall. Experience had shown her that a werewolf’s body could be remarkably resistant.

  The deep, bloody gash on Liam’s leg still glared at her, but she also had to fix his lungs, or he’d drown in his own blood soon enough. Ava urged the light to flow, but the glow began to wane. She pressed her hands harder on Liam’s leg, praying the light would obey. Instead, it blinked out.

  The beating pulse of light was gone, the rift in her essence fast asleep. She tried to summon the light again.

  “Gods, please,” she prayed.

  Nothing happened.

  Lothar’s howls cut closer. She turned around and in the distance saw the werewolf running on its four paws. He’d be here soon.

  “Princess.” Liam took her hands and kissed them. “You need to go. I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

  Ava could envision Lothar’s claws deforming Liam’s face in one strike, then tearing his body in two, blood splashing everywhere. The thought made bile thrash in her stomach.

  Liam might return as an angel, but Ava had never lost a charge, never given up. And she wouldn’t start now.

  She gave Liam an assuring smile as she tried to control the shaking of her body. “You’re my partner.”

  She stood and turned toward the incoming beast whose red eyes glinted with raw and primeval madness. Lothar was so big that the impact of his steps coursed through the ground and went up the bones in her legs.

  “Ava, run!” Liam screamed.

  Instead, she took the necklace from her jacket pocket and held it toward the wolf man. “I’m sorry we stole from you.”

  The beast stopped a few feet from her. He shook his head, and when he blinked at her, Ava spotted the human underneath the wolf.

  Lothar took a shuddering breath and shook his head again, as if he were still fighting the beast. When he stood on his hind legs, Ava knew the human had won the battle.

  He growled at her, drool dripping on the ground, but something else brushed against Ava’s Guardian essence, something that hadn’t been there before. Something sweet and soft like a feather. Mercy. Then a bark, and even though Lothar hadn’t used words, the command was clear: return the necklace.

  “I-I can’t,” she said. “We need it to find out who murdered Liam’s partner.”

  The wolf man cocked his head to the side, then whined at Liam, a frown full of pity on his forehead. He was sorry about Archibald, that much was clear.

  “Yeah, me too,” Liam said.

  Lothar growled, and his gray hairs stood on edge. Liam seemed to understand what the wolf man had tried to convey, because he chuckled. “Well, I couldn’t exactly ask. We both know you’d never give it to me, no matter how much you liked Archie. He might’ve treated you kindly, but I was always an ass to you and your packs.”

  Lothar chortled at this, his tongue sticking out, which made him resemble more of a Labrador than a fierce wolf.

  Liam nodded at his injured leg as if to make his point. “Besides, I entered your apartment and shot you five times. If that hadn’t drawn out the wolf, I don’t know what would.”

  The wolf man huffed something akin to a laughter. “Rules of the game.” The words scraped Lothar’s throat, each letter labored and heavy, as if forming them had been hard for him.

  Liam nodded. “Call it even?”

  A gust of wind came from above, and a feeling of peace and safety invaded Ava. She looked up to see a winged shape landing, then magnificent silver wings with golden tipped feathers stood before her.

  Ezra unsheathed his sword and faced the werewolf. “I’m quite certain that harming a Selfless is against regulations.”

  Lothar growled at Ezra, his fur standing straight. Words formed on his snout, but they came out drawled and deformed. “Wicked angels.”

  “Hey, we did it for a reason,” Liam shouted from behind, then coughed blood.

  But Lothar hadn’t meant to denounce them to the Messenger. He was calling Ezra a wicked angel, which was nothing short of blasphemy.

  Ezra kept his sword aimed at Lothar. “The necklace is part of an ongoing investigation. You will provide it peacefully.”

  The werewolf’s nostrils flared, his pointy ears up. He swayed back and forth on his hind legs, almost as if trying to decide whether to attack or run. “You watch us suffer.” A bark, followed by the snapping of his jaw. “My children, drugged. You murder them. The Gods don’t listen.” He pointed at Ezra and snarled. “Soon the injustices will be repaid. Pray I don’t find you on the battlefield.”

  With that, he crouched and left on all fours, each paw strike a punch on concrete.

  Ezra sighed and sheathed his sword. He turned to Ava and placed both hands on her cheeks. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled at him. “I am now.”

  He glared at Liam, the fury of the Gods crisp in his blue irises. “Your duty was to protect her!”

  Liam pressed his lips so tight they became white. He was about to say something, but instead he broke into furious coughs that painted his hand in red.

  “Please help him,” Ava begged.

  “He’s better to the Order as an angel.” Ezra’s tone was a wall.

  “He’s my charge.” Tears piled in the back of her throat. “Please?”

  Ezra shook his head and grumbled something under his breath. He then kneeled and placed one hand on Liam’s chest, another on his leg.

  “Don’t blame Liam for this,” Ava said. “I chose to be here.”

  Ezra didn’t utter a word or even look at her as light shone from his hands.

  Heavens, he was furious.

  She cleared her throat. “How did you find us?”

  “Your name was on the inspection warrant. I put a track in the system for Ava Lightway. I needed to be sure you were safe.” He turned to Liam. “Lothar is a type five. He’s not the werewolf lord without a reason.”

  “I know,” Liam said, his cough now gone.

  Ezra brushed his own hands as if he were a doctor cleaning up after surgery. Liam’s skin and flesh looked perfectly fine, not even a scar remained.

  “The Virtues will have to work overnight to wipe the minds of the people in this quarter.” Ezra stood and turned to Ava, disappointment in his tone. “Why did you steal from that creature?”

  “It’s a lead into the vampire attacks on sector thirteen,” Liam said as he forced himself up, still getting used to pinky new flesh and mended bones.

  Ava went to help Liam stand, but the proud glare he shot her stopped her midway.

  “Is it?” Ezra narrowed his eyes at Liam, then focused on Ava. “Does your charge speak the t
ruth?”

  The Captain’s words echoed in her mind. “Stick with this one, and you might have to go against everything you stand for.”

  Ava hated lying. She had done it once or twice when she was alive, but never had she lied as an angel, and especially not to Ezra. The Messenger had shown her nothing but love and understanding since they’d met a hundred years ago. She should tell him the truth; perhaps he could help. But Ezra knew the one rule Guardians lived by: a charge always comes first. And her charge needed her to lie, lie to an angel Ava admired and cared for.

  A bitter taste coursed down her throat as she swallowed. She remembered Archibald telling young Liam about faith, and that it rested inside one’s heart.

  “Yes,” she said, silently praying for forgiveness. “Liam’s telling the truth.”

  Ezra observed her for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed.

  He had such unwavering faith in her …

  “Well then.” He laid a hand on her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I expect a full report within two weeks. After that, we’ll discuss your new mission.”

  “A new mission?” she asked.

  Ezra scratched the back of his neck, glancing quickly at Liam and then back at Ava. “It has been decided that the three high angels are to choose mates, angels to help them manage the Order, kin souls who can act as our right hands.”

  “So you’ll have a harem?” Liam asked, arms crossed. “Because mates also have sex with each other, right?”

  “Don’t mistake a mate for a soulmate, Selfless. A mate is a friend and advisor, a soul similar to ours, someone we trust. Sometimes mates do become lovers because of this kinship, but not always.” Ezra’s tone swayed as he glanced at Ava. “And yes, an angel can have many mates, but I only wish for one.”

  Ava gulped and stepped back. “Me?”

  Ezra leaned forward, his lips an inch from hers. “I would be honored if you’d consider standing by my side. As I’ve said, we don’t need to be romantically involved.” He brushed a stray flock of hair from her face. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish we were.”