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

by C. S. Wilde

  The Captain nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “So, a demon killed Archie to silence him.” She shook her head. “It makes no sense. Why would Archie choose to become a demon, then?”

  Liam studied his own feet, his tone weak as he said, “I’m guessing his heart was broken, Cap.”

  “Why?”

  She still didn’t get it.

  “I don’t think he was killed by a demon.” The words hung in the air between them.

  The Captain’s eyes widened and she leaned back on her chair, her fingers digging deep into the leather of the armrests. “Impossible.”

  “I’m almost certain of it,” Liam said. “A few nights ago, a Warrior killed a vampire without any reason. The bloodsucker wasn’t attacking anyone. This entire thing stinks of a cover up that could destroy the entire Order and what it stands for.”

  Everything Ava so passionately defended, all that made her pure, kind, and perfect. The Hells he’d allow anyone to destroy that.

  The Captain winced. “So they’re weakening us from inside. Do you have a name in mind?”

  “No,” he lied.

  Ezraphael was top on his list, but Liam couldn’t be sure if this was because the Messenger might be guilty or because he just hated the guy. Better not to name someone so powerful without evidence.

  “Well, then.” The Captain fixed some papers on her desk. “Go find out who killed Archie and who’s behind this mess.” She bared her yellowing teeth at him. “And bring me their fucking head.”

  23

  Liam

  Jal had told Liam he would be at Club 23, a place located within the thirteenth sector, not far from where they had met Lilith—that fucking bloodsucker.

  From outside, the building looked like an abandoned warehouse just like the others that peppered the wide street—big cement blocks with broken windows. But this one had a tilted display above the iron door that read “Club 2.” The “3” was laying on the floor.

  Liam pushed the rusting door. The hinges were cracked, so it should’ve been easy to break in. But the door didn’t move. He tried again, pushing until blood thumped under his forehead.

  “The place has been glamoured,” Ava muttered as she watched the crumbling façade. “I can feel it thrumming against my essence.”

  “How can someone glamour an object?” Liam frowned at the decaying building. “As far as I know, glamour needs two people to work.”

  “Another mystery, then.” Ava took the metallic cards from her jacket pocket and handed them to him.

  “How are we supposed to use them?” Liam looked at the cards, studying their thin metallic surface.

  He searched for a place to insert them, but the iron door looked like it had been built in the past century. Then again, this was glamour, and things might not look as they seemed.

  “Here’s to nothing.” With a shrug, he slammed both cards on the door’s surface.

  Green light washed under the first card, then the second. With a click, the door opened.

  “Holy shit, it worked.” He scoffed as he put the cards in his pocket. “Whatever this glamour is hiding, it’s hi-tech as fuck.”

  “The technology is quite interesting,” Ava muttered. “Whatever this door is, it works like a barcode scanner.”

  “Have you seen anything like this outside the Order?”

  She shook her head. “I suppose if anyone had the means to do this, it would be Jal. But that doesn’t explain the glamour on the façade.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Liam pushed the door open.

  Ahead was a vast space drenched in sunlight—it poured through the giant glass roof. The floor was crowded with stretchers and medical staff dressed in gray who operated on injured werewolves. Holy wounds could be deadly to young In-Betweens, something to do with angelic light stopping their healing process. As a monster-slayer, Liam knew well how a holy blast from his gun, or a cut from a blessed blade, could end the life of a junior wolf or vamp.

  A few of the doctors dressed in gray lifted their sleeves and allowed vampires to feed on them to regenerate. Most vamps endured daylight like someone endures a hot day without air conditioning. The newly turned, though, were more sensitive.

  That’s why they had gathered under a small squared cemented roof on the left, which created a safe penumbra.

  From beside him, Ava watched the humans across the space, trying to decipher them. Their humble gray clothing was composed of large pants and shirts that resembled tunics. They didn’t seem to be in distress, but Princess kept trying to find the hint of a threat.

  He took her hand, and she looked down at their intertwined fingers with a soft smile.

  “They’re here to help, Ava,” he whispered near her ear.

  “They might’ve been glamoured,” she stated, still looking for things that clearly weren’t there.

  Hells, sometimes his gut instinct could be better than her empathy. “Do they look like mindless robots to you?”

  The humans smiled, their words kind to the patients who fed on them. In turn, the bloodsuckers controlled the hunger; even if they still starved, they jerked away from the humans the moment they sensed they might lose control.

  “Who are these people?” Ava muttered to herself.

  “They’re the Gray,” Jal’s voice came from behind them. “Priests and priestesses of the Legion.”

  Jal looked different from when they last met. His playfulness had vanished, his amber skin had paled, and dark circles spread under his eyes. Right then, he was not a demon, only a man on the brink of exhaustion. Liam knew that look well.

  “Legion?” Ava asked.

  Jal gave her an enigmatic grin. “I believe you’re here because of Archibald?”

  Liam stepped forward. “Time for me to claim the favor you owe me.”

  “Consider this one on the house,” he chuckled as if he’d remembered something funny. “Just keep in mind that some answers are not mine to give.”

  He showed them to a long wooden table near a window where they could talk in peace.

  Liam sat beside Ava, both of them facing Jal across the table.

  “The attack on the Order,” Liam started. “Did Lilith and Lothar plan all of it? Were you involved?”

  “Yes, they did, and no, I wasn’t. The vampire queen and the werewolf lord were too impatient. I suppose noble creatures tend to die in stupid yet honorable ways.” He gave them a sad smile. “Be that as it may, their attack almost jeopardized the entire operation.”

  “What operation?” Liam pushed.

  “You’ll soon find out. I’ve only been recently filled in. I might know more than you do, but not much.”

  He waved toward a vampire, who nodded and disappeared across the warehouse.

  “Who killed Archie?” Liam pressed, sensing he was close to getting the answers he needed. Finally. “What does the attack on the Order have to do with his death?”

  “Nothing and everything.”

  Blood rushed to Liam’s head, and he slammed a hand on the wooden table. “Stop talking in riddles!”

  “Easy, Selfless.” Jal’s eyes glinted in a feral manner, his sly grin widening across his face. Ah, there he was; the demon. The dragon. “You’ll get answers soon enough.”

  The vampire interrupted them, bringing a tray with three glasses filled with malt whiskey. He laid the tray before them and left, half-bowing to Jal as he did.

  Jal handed Ava and Liam their drinks, then took a sip of his own and closed his eyes, savoring the taste. “Ah, single malt, twenty years.” He nodded to their glasses. “Drink, angels. You’ll need it.”

  Liam didn’t hesitate to take a long gulp. He slammed the glass on the table, but Ava kept glaring at her drink as if it was poison. So he took her glass and downed it too. Gods knew he needed it.

  “Your number was on Archie’s call log,” Liam said to Jal. “He met with you before he died.”

  Jal bit his lip and looked down at his own glass. “He did.”

 
“Why?” Liam asked, a certain desperation in his tone. “Who killed him and why did he choose to become a demon?”

  Jal downed the rest of his drink and removed a crumpled envelope from his jacket. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  Liam’s name was scribbled on the envelope. Blood vanished from his brain so quickly, he thought he might faint.

  Ava squeezed his hand and leaned closer. “Are you okay?”

  He swallowed as he took the envelope from Jal. “That’s Archie’s handwriting.”

  Liam’s heart pounded frantically in his chest. Did he really want to read the old man’s last words? Where would this path take him? And why had Archie entrusted a demon with this?

  He glanced at Ava, and she smiled softly at him, silently encouraging Liam to do what he felt was best.

  “I’m here,” she said.

  He nodded, pulling the courage to go ahead from deep within and from his Guardian too. With a heavy breath, he opened the envelope, his fingers digging into the squared paper.

  “Kid,” Liam read the words aloud but had to stop. Tears bubbled in the back of his throat.

  He reminded himself he had to be strong now, so he swallowed back the mix of pain and sorrow that threatened to choke him and continued. “If you’re reading this, it’s because Kevin has debugged my phone. Also, I might be dead, which means I’m a demon now.

  Son, I’m sorry for leaving like this, but I had to do what was best for you like I’ve always done since I found you starving in the streets. You’re my kid, Liam. You always come first. One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  A small blotch stained the paper, a dry tearstain Archie left as he was writing this. Thorny agony pierced Liam from inside, but he sniffed and kept reading. He was Archibald Theodore Brennan’s son and one of the Fury Boys. The Hells he’d back away now.

  “Demons have left the In-Betweens alone for thousands of years, mostly because wolves and vamps brought a certain mayhem to mankind which kept the Order busy. But demons finally realized that when an In-Between turns a human, they take a potential soul from the dark. And despite the Order’s efforts, the number of In-Betweens has been growing exponentially for centuries now.

  Demons are done accepting those losses.

  So they began withholding the vampire’s food supplies and drugging the werewolves to force the Order to fall upon them. I guess they want the Order and the In-Betweens to kill each other.”

  Liam dropped the paper, his breathing ragged. He glared at Jal, his free hand atop his sword. “Why are demons doing this?”

  Jal raised his hands. “Hey, I have no part in this. I gave you the letter, remember?” He hunched over the table. “I belong in the gray lines. Not every demon is evil, not every angel is a saint,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “The light is too self-righteous and proud, the dark too mad and chaotic. What do you do when you no longer know where you stand?” He glared back at the vampires and werewolves across the warehouse. “You stand In-Between. Like them.”

  “A demon In-Between,” Ava muttered to herself. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead snapped her lips shut.

  He returned his attention to Archie’s letter.

  “You see, kid, someone in the Order realized that when an In-Between turns someone, they also take away a potential angel, or a soul that would’ve gone to the Heavens. That’s why the Order has been killing In-Betweens without asking questions. It’s convenient—and kind of genius if you think about it.

  Vampires feed on humans, and werewolves are half-human. If a war between light and dark would happen, the In-Betweens would side with their food supply and their half-brothers: humans. And by extension, angels. But the Order is clueless to this; they just want the potential souls they’re losing. Whoever has betrayed us is a fucking moron.”

  “This is sacrilege,” Ava muttered. “Angels would never,” her voice faltered. “What he speaks of is genocide. The path of the Gods does not lead this way.”

  “You saw what happened at the Order, Ava.” Liam peered at her, annoyed that even now she insisted on ignoring what was right in front of her.

  She winced, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes glistened. Something cracked inside his Guardian; Liam could see it. Guilt slashed across him, but there was nothing he could do. Ava had to see the truth.

  All of it.

  She stared at him for a long while before she nodded, a cue for him to continue reading.

  “The In-Betweens are just the start. I’m certain humans are next, but I’ll have to sacrifice everything to see how far this goes. There are only two things I trust in this world, son, and that’s my faith and you. If I have one last lesson to give, it’s this: don’t be afraid of the dark. Jal is a demon and a good guy, though he’ll deny this to the end of days. Things aren’t black and white. Not anymore.”

  Jal snorted, a grin spreading on his lips.

  Liam held the thin golden pendant hanging around his neck, a triangle within a circle, the symbol of the Gods. Somehow, he always felt closer to Archie when he did that.

  “Liam, these are the answers you need. We’ve given so much to this fight … it’s time to rest, kiddo. I left enough money with Jal to help you start living on a small, secluded island. Be happy. You’re better than all of this.

  And don’t worry, I’ll make them pay for what they did. It’s time for me to take care of you one last time. Please allow me to do so.

  I love you, son.”

  “I …” Liam wiped the tears that had accumulated in the corners of his eyes. He cleared his throat, steadying his breathing. Fuck it if he’d cry now, especially in front of Ava. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

  “It’s pretty obvious.” Jal shrugged. “You’re supposed to run away.”

  Liam frowned. “I can’t.”

  He turned to Ava with an apology on the tip of his tongue. If he ran, her duty to him would be done, and she’d be safe. They both would.

  Was he selfish by not doing what was best for her?

  The words hurt as they left his throat. “I’m so sorry, princess.”

  She laid a hand at the back of his neck, bringing him closer. She gently pressed her forehead against his. “When darkness comes, angels do not run. And you, Liam Striker, are the best one of us all.”

  Her words were a slap to the face and a warm kiss at the same time. Ava was an angel. Not the standard Order angel, but the kind Catholic humans worshipped: a pure, caring, and devoted creature. Liam wasn’t sure if he believed in the Gods, but he sure as Hells believed in her. Those damned tears bubbled again in the back of his throat, but he kept them in.

  Jal rolled his eyes. “How cute.”

  The demon suddenly straightened as if he were a wolf catching a scent, his eyes wide. A stroke of darkness stretched behind him, then dissipated to reveal wings dark as night and red as blood.

  “Motherfuckers,” he grunted right before the doors and windows of the warehouse burst open, and Warriors crashed into Club 23.

  24

  Ava

  Two pitch-black spheres cracked by purple lightning grew from Jal’s hands. His dragon wings spread wide, and with one boost he jolted toward the ceiling where an Archangel hovered over them, his blue and green wings setting him apart.

  Gabriel. The only ascended angel in the attack as far as Ava could see.

  Jal crashed against him with the fury of thunder while Warriors below cut and slashed through the warehouse without mercy.

  “This can’t be happening,” Ava told herself as she watched Warriors ramming their blessed blades through vampires’ chests, holy guns blasting werewolves’ heads.

  She stood there, frozen, witness to another massacre, this time against the injured and weak. There was no honor here, no kindness. This was retaliation, plain and simple. No matter how angels would justify it—and they would—this was not the work of the Gods.

  “Stay behind me!” Liam shouted as he drew his sword, his voice muffled by the screams an
d cries, the sounds of slashed meat and bone.

  “Which side are we fighting on?” Ava mumbled, gaping at the battling bodies.

  Liam pulled her closer to him, and when she looked into his green eyes, they washed away her shock and fear. “We’re on our side, princess.”

  Ava nodded, and slammed her back against his, ignoring the sinking sensation in her gut. “We must protect the humans. They’re the true innocents in all of this.”

  He nodded his approval; she could feel it through the shifts in his back muscles.

  They went forward and into the crowd, trying to find those wearing gray, priests of something Jal had called the Legion. Ava had her sword in hand, ready to cut and punch with no mercy; anything to protect the innocent.

  But the battle ignored them. Everywhere they went, the path cleared. No one, angel or In-Between, dared attack.

  “What in all the Hells?” Liam halted and so did she.

  “We’re in-between,” Ava muttered, the meaning of it sinking into her.

  Right now, she and Liam were no one’s enemies and no one’s friends. They were angels, so the Warriors didn’t attack them, but they had also been under Jal’s protection, so the In-Betweens who fought back avoided them.

  This was about to end, though, Ava could sense it thrumming within her bones. The point of no return.

  Some humans gathered near the left end of the warehouse. Fear oozed from them in cold clouds, their bodies trembling. They crowded with the young vampires who were too weak to battle.

  Not far from them, a group of humans was being punched and kicked, not by the vampires who fed upon them or the werewolves who’d love to taste their flesh, but by the angels who had sworn to protect them.

  Ava’s stomach lurched, and she swayed back. A red and thorny sensation filled her to the brim, and her teeth gritted so hard that the bite pricked into her jaw.