Cursed Darkness (Angels of Fate Book 2) by Wilde C.S

Author:Wilde, C.S. [Wilde, C.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

21

Liam

L iam didn’t remember how he’d gotten here, crouched on the sidewalk under a bridge. Holes filled with rainwater peppered the cement on the street—he didn’t know why he noticed that. “Fuck the police” was spray-painted on the underside of the concrete above.

Funny. He’d been part of the supernatural police once.

His breathing rushed, and his head spun.

Damning himself was the only way to gain Hauk’s trust, and he’d done it. A victory that tasted like defeat. Liam already felt the Selfless inside him disappearing into oblivion.

He remembered the young girl’s face, her unblinking eyes staring at the ceiling, her back on the bloodied floor as she waited for the Possessor to arrive.

Once Hauk was done with her, he gave her a choice: eternal life or the uncertainty of a normal death. The girl wrinkled her forehead. She didn’t understand what he meant, but eternal life had its appeal, especially to a human who had been through the Hells.

She made the obvious choice.

Liam had to leave the pub before the Possessor arrived. He couldn’t keep a contained façade anymore. That thing would see right through him the moment it stepped into the place.

Archie didn’t move to follow, even though he was back from his mental shell—or whatever the Hells he called it.

If Liam knew the old man well, he was beating himself up for bringing him to the Gorge.

Well, he shouldn’t. Liam was Archie’s son, yes, but he was also his partner. This had been his choice, even if he regretted it.

He’d hurried to the exit but slipped on the slimy floor, painting himself red. When he tried to get up, he slipped again before gaining some footing—thanks to Archie, who rushed to help him.

Liam left the Gorge behind as fast as he could, but he still heard Archie calling his name and demons laughing their asses off.

“You’ve been baptized by blood, brother!” Hauk shouted.

Delusional prick!

Now Liam watched his red and shaking palms. Blood was sticky on his clothes, on his hair, on his cheeks, in his damn soul. The teenage girl, the hooker, Firma, their faces flashed in his mind nonstop, bathed by red, always red, red everywhere.

A scream broke from his lips. He rocked back and forward as soul-purging bellows cut through his throat.

He failed them. He failed everyone he wanted to protect.

At some point, Liam wondered if the walls of his throat had turned into raw flesh. It didn’t matter. If he kept screaming, maybe all the pain and guilt would leave with his voice.

Michael, the Archangel Liam used to be, had killed humans once. His darkness had taken the best of him and it took the best of Liam too, except for tonight.

Tonight, it urged him out of that pub.

He bent over and threw up, bile burning his already grazed throat. His head thumped and his chest hurt.

Liam’s darkness was the same that had consumed Michael once, and yet it hadn’t encouraged him to join the carnage back at the pub.

It’d wanted to take him away.

Liam’s voice, Michael’s voice, echoed in his ears.

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