by C. S. Wilde
“Ava, please,” he mumbled, his voice falling. “I meant you no harm. I truly believed the sword would help you.”
“I know.” Ava sheathed her sword and turned toward the exit.
She didn’t look back, even when Ezra called her name, begging her to return.
20
Ava
Water cascaded down Ava’s body, cleansing her from the dirt and blood—souvenirs of battle—that clung to her skin. Her tears mingled with the flowing water. It felt as if more than blood and dirt were being taken from her.
Her lips quivered as she prayed for the dead, but there was no point. Angels and In-Betweens weren’t like humans. Their bodies were their souls, and once they died, there was no Heavens for them, no Hells, just … nothing.
The thought of someone disappearing into nonexistence made Ava sob harder. She stifled her cries with her hand.
A soft knock came from the bathroom door. “Ava, you all right?”
“Yes.” She gulped and took a deep breath. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Take as long as you need.” She could feel Liam’s forehead stamped against the door outside, or maybe it was just her imagination. “I’m off to bed.”
Liam had heard her cries, of this Ava was certain, and yet he did not push, did not intervene. Instead, he gave her the time and space she needed. And right then, she loved him for it.
“You need anything?” he asked quietly, trying to hide the worry in his tone. It felt like a gray mass as cold as ice, prickling against Ava’s Guardian senses.
“No, I’m fine,” she said. “Thank you.”
For a Guardian, she was becoming awfully good at lying.
Ava stepped into a dimly lit room. The scent of pine wafted from the wooden walls and floor. Persian carpets extended under her feet, and old tapestry paintings hung on the walls. The paintings showed the three Gods and the three Devils, fighting in heavenly battlefields crowded with Seraphs and Wraths. The armies of the Heavens and Hells.
Other scents suddenly overcame the pine, stenches of decay and blood so strong that Ava gagged. She might’ve lost her mind, but she could feel an invisible force trying to kick her out of that room.
She spotted an open door that led to the outside. The wooden floor creaked below her hurried steps. When she burst out of the place, she inhaled the cool night air, once then twice, soaking in all of it.
The moon hung high in the night sky, drenching the garden in silver light. All the plants were brown, dry and cracked, the tree trunks bare and black. Their curling branches were leafless, and yet, the dead garden had a stark sort of beauty that made Ava smile.
In the middle of the garden stood a metal gazebo filled with rococo swirls and a table fashioned in the same way. A thick layer of white paint coated both the gazebo and the table, capturing the faint moonlight.
The old man with the newsboy’s cap, the elder who followed her, sat at the table, his concentration on a chess game he played. He moved one piece forward, and his opponent, a young woman whose skin shone green and gold, smiled. Her dark green hair floated around her like waves crashing against the shore.
A sense of safety and love cascaded through Ava, flooding her with awe so grand that her knees buckled. She fell over them in a trembling heap. Without meaning to, she started to cry because the Goddess of Life and Love, her Goddess, the mother of all Guardians, stood before her.
The elder turned his attention to her, and so did the goddess. She smiled at Ava but didn’t say a word. Then she shook her head, her mane of hair dancing around her in slow motion. Every piece of her started dismantling, as if the Goddess was a tree shedding leaves in autumn.
She quickly gave place to an old bald man with a knowing grin and infinite kindness behind his eyes. The God of Knowledge and Logic stood up from his chair. He drifted toward Ava, his robe fading at his feet like a floating ghost. As he did, he shed his form once again to reveal a tall broad man with a flowing mane of red hair and strong muscles, a mighty sword attached to a belt around his waist.
The God of War should’ve been threatening, intimidating, and yet, all Ava felt was love and acceptance. He, they, loved her like she loved all her charges: unconditionally. And they were so proud of her, they didn’t need to say it. The sensation bloomed and spread inside her heart.
“My Gods,” she croaked, crouching on the ground until the tip of her nose touched the ashen earth. She shook and cried as she whispered, “Holy Gods in the Heavens, I am your servant. So long as I exist in your infinite Glory, the Gods are with me and I’m with the Gods.”
A warm finger touched her chin, lifting it up. This time, it was the Goddess of Love and Life, smiling down at her.
“What is your purpose, child?” she asked with all their voices, a mix of tunes. But there were more than three voices there. Ava counted at least six.
She parted her lips to answer, but couldn’t; she was shaking so much. She swallowed and tried to compose herself. “To help mankind, my Goddess.”
“You are special, Ava, so much more than you think.” The Goddess smiled before shadows wrapped around her, changing her features. Her kind eyes shifted into a predatory yellow, her teeth sharpened, and her nose fell on the ground in the way of a rotten fruit.
A freezing cold stabbed through Ava. The sensation she was alone in an empty room took over completely; a place where her screams would remain forever unheard. She cried but not with joy or fulfillment.
This time, she cried in fear.
She knew this devil from the depictions in the books. Belzebub, devil of Death and Desperation, his nose two reptilian slits, his skin a slimy gray. His oily dark hair dripped down his features. A face grew from his neck, a woman with purple shining irises, skin dark as the night, and hair silver like the moon. Berith, devil of Chaos and Violence. She smiled upon Ava, and Ava tried to recoil, but Belzebub never released her chin. His fingers were colder than ice and burned her skin.
A third head grew beside Belzebub’s, a man with a face of marble, his skin white as snow, his hair blue flames catching fire. Mammon, devil of Ignorance and Envy. His clear blue eyes sparkled, and his sharp toothed grin told Ava he’d feast upon her soul.
“Do not fear the dark, Ava.” They spoke at the same time, their shrill, cold voices mingling with the warm, assertive tones of the Gods as if they were part of the same thing, the same universe. Balances shifting. “Show your light to him. Let him show his darkness to you.”
Ava’s head hurt and she cried, forcing herself to move, but she couldn’t. “P-please,” she mumbled. “Let me go …”
“Tell us, Ava,” the voices rumbled. “Why do you think you’re here?”
She woke with a scream stuck in her throat.
21
Ava
The next day, when they arrived at the precinct, Ava found Justine sitting on a chair. Kevin handed her a glass of water and most of the liquid spilled from her trembling hands. She still wore Ava’s golden dress.
“T-the halls were painted red this morning,” she stammered as Ava approached. “No bodies but so much blood, I couldn’t stay there. All my fallen brothers and sisters …” Justine’s breath hitched, and Ava rested a hand on her shoulder. “I was enjoying a fun date while they suffered.”
“If it helps, most of the blood was from the In-Betweens,” Liam said from behind Ava. “Now, that was a massacre.”
Ava glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender as if her eyes had held him at gunpoint.
“It doesn’t help,” Justine said quietly. “Two of my research group are dead. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t—” She looked at her own hands. “I couldn’t help them.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ava said, her tone soothing.
She whispered the words of the Gods to Justine, assuring her that they were with her and she was with them. Golden sparkles floated from Ava’s lips and dove into her friend’s skin. This normally worked when appeasing her charges, but Justine hadn’t been one in a
while now. Besides, an Erudite’s telepathy could often block a Guardian’s empathy.
Justine sniffed. “Thanks for trying, dear.” Her expression shifted, quickly turning into something dark and bitter. “What they did is unforgivable. We must show them the wrath of the Gods, show them why no one has dared to attack the Order until now, and why no one ever will again.”
Ava frowned. “That is not the way of the Gods.”
Her friend snorted and took a gulp of water, steadying the glass with both hands. “It’s the only way now.”
Ava couldn’t believe her words. “The path of the Gods is the path of forgiveness, of love and understanding. Now more than ever, we cannot forget that. Otherwise we won’t be any better than the darkness we’re trying to fight.”
“The servants of the Gods are not pushovers,” Justine snapped at her, glaring at Ava with disgust. “At least, most of us aren’t.”
Ava gaped at her friend, ignoring the sting in her chest. “Fighting for revenge will only feed the darkness until it swallows everything and all of us.”
This seemed to stop her friend’s rage. Justine’s shoulders slumped. “I-I’m sorry,” she croaked, setting the glass on the table. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Ava kneeled on the ground, facing Justine. “A lot of Erudites and Guardians died yesterday. They deserved better.” She took Justine’s hands. “But someone is forcing the In-Betweens to attack humans, and the Order is annihilating them because of it.” She spoke as if this justified the attack. She knew it didn’t.
Both sides wrong, both sides right.
Justine’s lips curled. “Why should we help the In-Betweens when they chose to stay neutral? They certainly never helped us.”
“That isn’t a reason.”
Justine snorted, then caressed Ava’s cheek with her thumb. She sniffed back her tears. “You should ascend straight to Seraph, you know. You’d make an amazing queen in the Heavens.”
“How’s the debugging on Archie’s phone?” Liam asked Kevin from a few steps back.
Ava’s partner might act nonchalant, but pink, blurred tendrils of sympathy wafted from him and brushed against Justine. Her friend couldn’t feel it, of course, but Ava could.
“Done five minutes ago.” Kevin nodded to a desk in the back so they could give Justine and Ava some privacy.
“Took them long enough,” Justine chortled. “You should go.” She grabbed a tissue from a box on the table, then wiped her nose with it. “He’s your charge.”
Ava stood and laid a hand on Justine’s head. “Once upon a time, so were you.”
Justine smiled at Ava and patted her hand. “I’ll be fine.” She nodded to Liam. “Go to him.”
“I’ll return soon.” She squeezed Justine’s hand before walking toward the two men.
Kevin handed Liam a piece of paper as Ava approached. She inspected what was scribbled on the surface.
844-483-2293.
“It’s Archie’s last call,” Kevin said, pointing at the number. “I tried tracing it, but it’s blocked as Hells. No one took my calls.”
Liam peered at the number. “Hmm.” He picked his own phone and dialed, leaving it on loud speaker.
A click and then a voice.
“Liam,” Jal said from the other side, his tone low and tired. “Your timing isn’t perfect, but we have no choice. Does Ava still have the cards I gave her?”
22
Liam
Liam pulled Ava to a corner of the precinct near a window, where they could have some privacy. He peered at her tired and yet fierce blue irises, hoping they could show him her thoughts.
Ava had cried last night. He’d heard the muffled sobs while she was in the shower. Gods, he’d wanted to break through that door and hold her, wrap his arms around his Guardian and only let go once all her tears dried. But Princess didn’t need that. She needed space, and he gave it to her, all through the night and also during breakfast.
A mournful silence had filled the air around them this morning, a heavy grief over things lost. The streets and his job made Liam tough, prepared him for shit like that, but Ava was different. She had never faced sudden and ugly deaths, the kind that stuck to someone for years, especially in their nightmares.
He feared yesterday’s bloodshed would change her, darken her soul, if only a bit. Hells, years as a Selfless had certainly darkened his, but Ava remained true to her nature.
Justine might’ve lost sight of what mattered, but Ava never did, not for one second. Even after seeing her brothers and sisters bleed, after discovering her future mate was manipulating her, even after witnessing Lothar’s unfair death, Ava didn’t lose sight of what was important—of who she was or the principles she stood for.
She was clearly hurting, but she was still standing. The strongest woman Liam had ever met.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her in a whisper, hoping she would say no, that she would agree to stay in the precinct with Justine and Kevin, where she couldn’t be hurt, where she’d be safe. “What we’re about to do might be considered treason, especially after the attack on the Order.”
She scowled at him. “Why do you insist on treating me as if I were made of paper?”
He leaned back as if she’d slapped him, then ran a hand over his hair, letting out a weary sigh. “You’ve witnessed enough pain and bloodshed, princess. Digging any deeper could break you.”
“It could break you too,” she countered, her voice hoarse.
He almost chuckled. It would take a lot more than a bloodbath to break him.
“Liam, what we witnessed yesterday wasn’t the Order, and it wasn’t the In-Betweens. It was devilish work, unmerciful work.” She raised her right hand and cupped his cheek. “We need to stop it.”
He closed his eyes as he leaned against her palm, reeling in the feel of her touch. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” There was a ray of sunlight in her voice. “I’m here, and you’re my charge.”
For fuck’s sake! Liam flinched and jerked away from her. “You mean your partner. I’m your partner, Ava.”
Every time Ava called him a fucking charge, Liam wondered if she cared about him only because it was her duty. Plus, she’d had tons of charges throughout her angelic life. For all he knew, he was just a number to her.
Her befuddled stare looked stunning: rosy lips budded into a titillating pout, her delicate face frowning. Gods, Liam wanted to kiss her so hard he had to take a deep breath and focus.
“Yes,” she said, assessing him. “I’m your partner. And I won’t let you step into danger alone. Ever.”
He gaped at her, realizing Ava might be simply too good for this world. Too good for him.
“Princess—”
She crossed her arms. “I’m going with you, and we’re getting to the bottom of this. The Order, my Order, needs us to.” Before he could argue, she turned and strolled toward the exit of the precinct.
Liam smiled wide at his fierce Guardian, his kind, unwavering force of nature, before catching up to her. He nudged Ava’s shoulder with his elbow, shooting her a proud grin that was returned with one of her own.
His Princess. His Valkyrie.
“Where are you two going?” the Captain asked right when they reached the elevator.
Say what you will, but the woman had impeccable timing.
Liam turned around and walked to her, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, trying to look as innocent as he could. “Just checking stuff, Cap.”
“Checking stuff?” She narrowed her eyes at him, then pointed back to her office. “Inside. Now.” She turned and entered the room.
Ava began to follow him, but the Captain shouted from inside, “Just Liam.”
He sent Ava an apologetic shrug and entered the office, closing the door behind him.
Liam hated going into that office alone. It always preceded the scolding of a lifetime. So he crossed his arms and waited for it.
“You’re doing s
omething bad, aren’t you?” She went to her desk and dropped into the leather chair behind it. “Something so bad that you can’t report it to me.”
Hells. Sometimes Liam wondered if the Cap could read minds.
“Depends on the point of view,” he said, then chided himself. This wasn’t the moment to be snarky.
The Captain chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve known you since you were eight. I know when you’re up to no good. I can feel it in my bones.”
He straightened his stance but didn’t say a word. The less the Captain knew, the better, especially so soon after the attack on the Order. Nerves were tense and sparks flew in the air, waiting to ignite and burn everything.
The Captain formed a triangle with her hands. “Have you noticed that demons have been awfully quiet? Possessions have dropped to almost nil, dealings in exchange for human souls haven’t been recorded in the black market this week, and attacks on humans and angels have dropped. I haven’t had to call for angelic support for three weeks now.”
Whenever the Selfless uncovered second-tier demons wreaking havoc, they were ordered to call in Archangels, Dominions, or Virtues to handle the job. A Selfless, no matter how skilled, could never fight an ascended demon—or was it descended?—and survive to tell the tale.
“It’s not just the high-level assholes,” she continued. “Even lower demons who can’t control their instincts are behaving—as far as demons can behave, that is.”
He nodded. “Something’s not right, and it has to do with the attack on the Order.”
She leaned her elbows on the table. “What’s your take on all of this, kid?”
He smiled. Kid. Only two people called him that: the Captain and Archie.
“Frankly, Cap, I think demons are forcing the In-Betweens to attack humans, which then forces the Order to smite them. They’re making us kill each other, as we all saw by yesterday’s attack. The weird thing is, I think they’ve got the help of someone in the Order.” He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “My gut says this is why Archie died.”
