by C. S. Wilde
Ava tracked the path until she stopped before Tearwinder Lake. The footway went up the left margin of the lake, and she let out a weary sigh. The right side of the path was open to cold wind gusts and there were no trees to protect Ava, just a nasty fall if she slipped.
Still, she went on. As predicted, the wind stung against her skin as powdery snow slammed on her face, making it numb.
Lord, she hated the cold so very much.
Thankfully, her journey was almost over. She could spot the beginning of town through the woods. Smoke went up from the chimneys, which meant heat. Her heart leaped at the sight.
Little Charlie had been through so much in his life, all the children had. Born in broken families or the result of torrid affairs, thrown to waste like garbage, Ava’s children deserved any luxury she could afford them.
If she pushed her flirting skills up a notch, maybe the butcher would give her enough meat for two whole days at the orphanage. Now that would be truly grand.
A low whine caught her attention. Uphill, and deeper into the forest, a little fox had been caught in a metallic trap. It was so small, only a pup.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Ava muttered.
She couldn’t let it stay there. Harmed and cold, it would surely die.
Ava lifted the hem of her dress and climbed up the hill. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” she said to herself and the fox, her cheeks flushed and stinging because of the cold.
The little thing whined as she approached. She crouched and depressed the trap springs, setting the pup free, but in its agony, the scared animal jumped over her. Ava dodged just in time, yet lost her balance.
She tumbled backward and rolled down the hill, hitting her back against the snow that covered the path. She bounced like a ball, momentum throwing her off the cliff, and then there was only air beneath her.
She fell for what seemed like forever, horror stealing all the air she would’ve used to scream, until she hit the hard surface of the lake with a loud thud. Ice cracked underneath her.
Ava’s skull snapped and she felt warm liquid bleed onto the cold behind her head, but the spot soon became numb.
Her mind felt fuzzy, and she couldn’t move her body. She had to get up, go to town … Little Charlie asked for meatballs today.
She laid there, freezing. She forced her body to move but couldn’t lift a finger. Soon enough, the cold stopped. Ava couldn’t feel her body anymore.
She knew what the numbness meant. For the first time in her life, Ava missed the cold. Tears piled up in her eyes, but froze midway down her cheeks.
I haven’t done enough, she thought to herself. Please Lord, it’s not my time yet. Not like this …
Slowly, darkness crept from the edges of her consciousness. Her heartbeat slowed, and Ava decided to sleep for a little while. Resting to save her strength made sense, and yet she knew she shouldn’t. If she slept, she might never wake up again.
Her eyelids closed anyway.
When she woke, a woman with honey-colored hair and blank eyes was staring down at her. Her kind smile told Ava everything would be all right, even though Ava knew better.
“Can you help me?” Ava asked.
“In a way.” The woman smiled at her. “But first, Ava, tell me why you think you’re here.”
She knitted her eyebrows. “I slipped.”
The strange woman nodded but didn’t say much, almost as if encouraging her to go on.
Ava swallowed, and her heart skipped a beat—the few she had left. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
Only now did Ava realize that the woman wore a sleeveless dress made of blinking stars. She should be freezing, but she seemed perfectly fine.
“Who are you?” Ava muttered.
“I’m the Angel of Death, and I’m here because you’re ready. Your kindness to others has not gone unnoticed by the Gods.”
“Gods?” she frowned.
Plural?
“Yes, but who knows if the Gods are three or one? Does it really matter?” She sighed. “Maybe they’re light, maybe they’re darkness, maybe both. To be perfectly honest, no member of the Order has ever seen them, not even the high angels.” She giggled to herself, then crouched closer to Ava as if she was about to tell her a secret. “Did you know that in India they worship many Gods, and one of them is shaped like a blue elephant with many arms? That would be exceptional, don’t you think?”
Ava didn’t know what to say. The Angel of Death made no sense.
“The Messenger might be the speaker of the Gods,” the woman continued. “But he simply receives messages from the three Seraph kings in the Heavens, never directly from the Gods, you see. Even Brother and I have never seen them, only the Seraphs. Maybe they are the true Gods …” The Angel of Death watched Ava’s confusion and waved a hand in the air as if she were whooshing a bug away. “You’ll understand soon enough.” She clapped her hands together. “Today you may choose to become an angel and carry out the Gods’, well, your Lord’s, work.”
“Or you can become a demon.” A man came into view, looking down at her, his long blonde hair nearing white. His eyes were two black beads. “Not that a do-gooder such as yourself ever would.”
“Shush, brother,” the Angel of Death said.
“She does have the choice.” The man turned to Ava. “I’m the Demon of Death, and you should know you can also become a vampire or a werewolf if you don’t wish to pick a side.”
Vampires and werewolves? Like in the horror books she had read late at night as a child, when her mother was sleeping and the house was quiet?
Before Ava could utter a word, the Angel of Death snapped, “She’s not a neutral, brother.” Annoyance coated her tone. “Let her essence speak to you, and you’ll see. She has darkness and light, but she does not stand in-between.”
“Fine.” He crinkled his nose. “This one is so complacent, though. I doubt she’ll ever—”
“I think she’ll do just fine.”
The Demon of Death shrugged, studying Ava. “What do you see in her?”
“Fire.” The Angel of Death turned to her and smiled. “I see fire.”
The Demon of Death squeezed his eyes at Ava. “Where?”
“I-I want to go back,” Ava muttered. “The children need me.”
The Angel of Death laid a hand on Ava’s cold forehead, and it sent a jolt of warmth through her entire body. “The children will go on without you Ava, regardless of your choice. They’ll follow their paths and they will die, like everything in this world does. Most will be reborn as humans again, while some might ascend to the Heavens or descend to the Hells. And few, very few, might be given the choice you have now. So let your essence speak to you.”
Everything darkened. Ava couldn’t keep her eyes open. “Choose what’s inside your heart,” the Angel of Death’s voice boomed through the darkness.
Ava didn’t need to scavenge for the answer. It came to her as easily as breathing. She wanted to help those in need, do good, and thus, she would. The words came out of her more like an instinct, something she couldn’t quite control.
“I choose to be an angel,” she muttered before giving herself into oblivion.
26
Ava
“Ava!” Liam’s voice came from a long distance. “Ava, wake up!”
His desperation slipped into her skin, a gnarling angst that made her want to scream. She tried to follow his voice but couldn’t. Her eyelids were so heavy, she was so tired …
Drifting back into unconsciousness was easy, the darkness and quiet invited her like a warm bed after a hard day’s work. Liam’s voice was gone now, so Ava slept.
She wasn’t sure how long she remained floating in that peaceful void. Perhaps days, perhaps years.
“Ava?” It was Justine’s voice, coming from behind.
When Ava turned around, she spotted her friend floating in the darkness. Justine’s hair and light-gray kilt flowed around her as if she were underwater.
“Oh thank the Gods!” Justine slammed both hands on her own chest. “You’re alive!”
“Apparently.” Ava studied the darkness around her. “Where am I?”
“You’re unconscious, that’s for sure, which isn’t good at all. It’s been two days since the explosion.”
“Explosion?”
It came to her as fast as lightning hitting the ground. A sun had burst from within Ava, shining and disintegrating everything in its path except for its creator.
She glanced at her arms and feet. They weren’t gleaming, and she seemed to be in perfect shape. But then again, this wasn’t her body, just a mental image of herself.
Or so she assumed.
“The Order and the precinct have gone Defcon one,” Justine said. “I doubt the Captain has even slept, and poor Kevin …” She studied her own feet. “I had to force him to eat; we were all so worried. We weren’t sure if you and Liam were alive. The analysis from the clean-up teams didn’t show your DNA in the wreckage, so we had hope.” Justine’s voice failed, and she sniffed back a tear. “I tried contacting you for so long.”
Ava moved toward Justine, drifting in the darkness, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “What are they saying about the explosion?”
“It’s being ruled by humans as a gas leak.”
“And by the Order?”
Justine shrugged. “Ezraphael has admitted to giving you the sword of revelation. He said it was supposed to unlock your powers so you could stand beside him, but he also said you weren’t ready. For that he blames himself, and Talahel is asking for proper punishment.” Justine leaned her head left and shrugged. “Then again, it was the Sword’s watch dog who led the attack on the warehouse without approval, so he isn’t exactly free of guilt.”
Ava’s heart tightened. “You mean Talahel’s trying to blame me and Ezra for killing his men?”
Justine knitted her brows and winced. “Kind of. Everyone understands why those Warriors attacked. The In-Betweens killed our brothers and sisters, Ava.” She sighed. “And so did you, because of Ezra. That sword is beyond powerful.”
It hadn’t been the sword. Ezra’s blade had acted as a catalyst, yes, but the explosion, the lightning, all of it had sprouted from Ava’s essence. She could feel the source of power ingrained within her, always there, always asleep.
Not so asleep anymore.
Ava’s blood boiled, and she grasped Justine’s shoulders. “Gabriel’s Warriors killed innocent humans. They murdered the weak and the wounded, and then they beat me without mercy.”
Her friend took a moment to acknowledge this, her eyes wide, her jaw hanging. Justine shook her head and chortled, as if Ava was telling her a joke. “Why would they—”
“Evil has infiltrated the Order,” Ava said through gritted teeth. “It weakens us from inside, using excuses of revenge and anger. We must fight it.”
Justine shook her head weakly. “All humans who died are claimed to have been victims of the In-Betweens or from your blast. Not that it’s your fault,” she added quickly. “It’s on Ezra. He should’ve never given you the sword.”
Ava glared at Justine, a mass of annoyance filling her from inside. Was this what Liam felt when he’d tried to convince her?
“Justine, listen to me,” Ava commanded. “When did I ever hurt a human, intentionally or not?”
Justine blinked, as if the information was finally dawning on her. She opened her mouth, but the words disappeared midway. Finally, she managed, “I believe you. I’ll always believe you, but this means we’re in monumental trouble. Ezra is the only force against this madness, and he’s losing the battle. Instead of punishing Gabriel for his insubordination, Talahel is claiming his actions bring up an important discussion.”
“War against the In-Betweens,” Ava muttered.
“Yes.” Justine held Ava’s hand. “Do you think Talahel has been tainted by evil?”
“Either him or Gabriel. There were no Erudites or Guardians in that warehouse, only Warriors. But we can’t be sure if more are involved.”
“Ava.” Justine’s voice quivered. “Archangels and Warriors are the army of the Order.”
She took a deep breath. “I know.”
Justine swallowed and straightened her stance. “All right. What do you need me to do?”
“Tell Ezraphael. Tell him what happened in the club; that the wounded and the innocent were murdered by angelic hands. Tell him that demons are tampering with the wolves’ wolfsugar and stealing legal blood supplies from the In-Betweens. He must speak with the Gods or whoever sends him messages from the Heavens, and he must trust no one.”
Justine nodded, this time avoiding her stare. Ava knew Justine long enough to know when she was hiding something. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“The Captain was worried. You have to understand …” Justine’s voice failed. “She put a track on Liam’s phone. It pinged back to the Order’s servers, but she had no idea it would.”
Ava inhaled sharply.
So that’s how the Warriors had found them. She and Liam led them straight to Club 23. Before Ava could speak, Justine added, “I went into the Captain’s mind when she was distracted.” She increased her grip on Ava’s hands. “When she lost Archie, it was as if a part of her died too. To her, Liam is what’s left of him. I heard her agony, her fears ...” She blinked back tears. “You must understand.”
“I do.” She caressed Justine’s cheek. “She only wanted to protect us.”
Justine pressed her lips in a smile. “I’m at the precinct now, but I’ll head to Ezraphael’s office immediately.” She looked to her left as if she were listening to someone, and then she nodded. “Kevin is asking if Liam is all right.”
Ava’s blood froze in her veins. Liam. The image of him being taken away by Jal sprung in her mind.
“I-I don’t know where he is.” The darkness, before so welcoming and peaceful, now chewed her essence at the borders.
Did they escape in time?
The light within Ava, asleep beyond the rift, pulsed lazily. Once, twice. A violent stir rolled around the void.
“Heavens,” Justine muttered, gaping at the trembling space.
In an eye-blink, her friend disappeared.
A loud cracking noise swam across the void, and then the darkness fell around Ava like shards of night. She opened her eyes, and a desperate gasp flooded her lungs as she shouted the most sacred word she could remember.
“Liam!”
27
Ava
Liam was watching her, his green eyes crystal clear, a three day stubble peppering his squared jaw. He smiled down at Ava with a beautiful grin that was half-boyish, half-man, and Ava’s shattered world felt right again.
He’s here. He’s safe.
Relief washed through her, and her muscles relaxed.
“Welcome back, princess,” he said as he caressed her forehead, the feel of his skin smooth on hers.
Ava opened her mouth to say she was so glad to see him, but her lips felt cracked and her throat made of sandpaper. Liam noticed her unspoken need. He grabbed a big water glass that stood on the bedside table and handed it to her.
She sat up and drank at once. When she looked down, she realized she was wearing the same flannel shirt and pants of the humans Jal had called priests of the Legion.
The sting of betrayal still hurt. Angels had murdered the innocent and the wounded. Those she’d once called brothers and sisters had behaved like demons. But Ava didn’t want to think or remember, and because she tried nonetheless, her head spun. She slammed a hand on her forehead.
“Easy, princess.” Liam took the empty glass from her hand and put it back on the bedside table. “You’ve been sleeping for two days now.”
“So I heard.” She noticed the question in his face and added, “Justine contacted me while I was unconscious.”
Ava studied the room. Dark wooden walls filled with tapestry paintings surrounded them, pictures of heavenly wars and hellis
h damnation. The wooden furniture, carved to minimal details, belonged to a century or two before Ava had been born. The puffy, comfortable poster bed in which she laid on wasn’t from recent centuries, either.
Ava had never been here, and yet the place felt oddly familiar. “Where are we?”
Liam sighed and rubbed the base of his palms along his eyebrows. “It’s a long story.”
His tanned skin looked unnaturally pale, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. Ava brushed his stubble with her thumb, assuring herself one more time that he was okay.
“When was the last time you slept?” she asked.
He gave her a careless shrug. “About a day ago. I’ve been dozing on the couch, though.” He nodded to the tufted sofa on the opposite side of the room. It looked in worse shape than the one in his apartment.
Seeing Liam so exhausted brought a squeezing pain into her chest. She moved to the left side of the bed, a silent invitation for him to join her.
He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not sleepy, princess. It’s fine.”
“It’s not that,” she said, a desperate plea in her tone.
Ava’s world was crumbling around her, but it stopped when Liam was close. She didn’t know how to tell him this, that he’d become the only safe and sure thing in her life, but he seemed to understand either way. He nodded to himself and laid beside her, his arms bringing Ava closer to him so that her head rested upon his chest and her body cupped the left side of his.
They stayed this way, in silence, Ava hearing the steady ta-dum, ta-dum, ta-dum, of his heart.
This, she figured, this was what the Heavens must be like.
“You wouldn’t wake up,” he said quietly. “I-I didn’t know what desperation was until I shook you and you wouldn’t wake up.” He took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I had to lock myself in the bathroom yesterday because it was either that or showing Jal I was having a fucking panic attack.” He bit his lip. “I thought I’d lost you, Ava.”
