WICKED (HARDBACK)

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Cassius Black clocked the four men shadowing him minutes after he’d left the headquarters of Cabalista. He pretended not to notice them as he headed east from Liverpool Street Station, too weary to fathom the reason why he was being tailed.

People rarely needed a motive to antagonize him these days. Most had regarded his existence as a stain upon this world even before the battle that had taken place three weeks ago, in the tunnels beneath London. The one where he had had to reveal his status as the most powerful angel on Earth in order to save countless lives and kill the sorceress who had terrorized England and Europe for a quarter of a century.

The fact that quite a few of the magic users and otherwordly beings whose skin he’d saved that day were now intent on making him out to be public enemy number one hardly came as a surprise to Cassius. He’d been stabbed in the back too many times in the past by his supposed allies to trust they would ever change their ways.

Since they couldn’t justify picking a fight with him, they’d found other methods to wear him down. Official ones he couldn’t ignore. Like the almost daily interrogations he’d been subjected to by the various supernatural agencies who governed the Fallen ever since he killed Tania Lancaster and ended her reign of terror.

The debrief session at Cabalista had been particular brutal today. He’d found himself struggling to maintain his composure as he was forced to stand before the demonic council and its leader and answer their never-ending questions for nearly three hours, his ire restrained by the thinnest of threads.

Russell Gilmore, the current head of Cabalista, was an otherworldly whose arrogance knew no bounds. His mistake in the tunnels had almost cost them the battle, a fact Cassius knew the demon would never acknowledge. Instead, Gilmore had made it his mission to portray Cassius as the one responsible for the deaths of the two Cabalista demons they had lost to the clash with Tania and her sect.

A light rain started falling across London, peppering his face with cool drops. Cassius frowned. He knew from the vibes he’d gotten from the rest of the Cabalista council that Gilmore would not get his own way. That the council members were choosing to indulge the demon at Cassius’s expense was something he was prepared to overlook for now.

Besides, there’s no way I’m going to let that asshole conduct his fake witch hunt to a satisfactory conclusion.

He soon came in view of the towering white steeple of Christ Church. The men kept trailing him, their presence a warm spot on the back of his neck. He headed past Old Spitalfields Market and entered a road lined with eighteenth-century merchant buildings and Georgian townhouses.

They caught up with him in a narrow brick lane one street over. The place was almost deserted at this time of day, the few people who passed the mouth of the footpath hastening their steps when they saw the men surrounding Cassius.

Cassius eyed his would-be attackers with a neutral expression.

He knew two of them were demons from their sulfurous scent. The other two, wizards whose soul cores reeked of Frankincense, were Level Three magic users at best.

“Care to tell me exactly what I’ve done to deserve your attention?” Cassius said quietly.

The men glanced at one another, as if they couldn’t quite believe he’d had the audacity to ask the question.

“Do we need a reason to loathe you?” the first demon said with a smirk.

Cassius prayed for patience. An afternoon spent indulging Gilmore and the Cabalista council meant he didn’t have his usual reserve of self-restraint. All his hard work these past few weeks would be in vain if he lost his cool now.

The demon moved, as fast as light.

Cassius rocked back on his heels as the otherwordly’s fist connected with his face, his jaw snapping to the side from the force of the impact. He turned his head and met the demon’s hateful gaze with narrowed eyes.

The guy had used enough force to kill a human.

The ground trembled beneath Cassius’s feet as the second demon called forth his Terrene powers. The wizards started murmuring spells under their breaths. Alarm shot through Cassius when a faint crack split the asphalt next to him. The air grew heavy with malice.

Are these guys stupid?!

Cassius scowled. The demons and the wizards were acting with reckless abandon.

I have to stop them before this goes too far!

Power pulsed through Cassius. He fisted his hands and let enough of it slip through to brighten his skin and eyes, a warning to the men preparing to attack him that he would not hold back.

The demons and wizards stilled. Something shifted in their gazes. Something that told Cassius things were about to get ten times worse. He reached for the dagger strapped to the small of his back, knowing he would have to be careful not to kill them. The last thing he needed right now was to be accused of murdering two magicians and a couple of demons. Never mind that it would be an act of self-defense.

The hairs suddenly rose on his arms. Cassius blinked as he sensed the presence of a powerful demon closing in on them.

A figure swooped down from the sky and landed lightly at the end of the lane. He folded his gray wings and studied them with a piercing stone blue gaze. Heat rippled through the air as he headed their way.

“What are you doing?”

The demons and wizards startled. Cassius stared.

The man closing in on them now radiated a shimmering haze that sparked with orange glows at the edges, the warm waves ruffling his light blond hair. Cassius didn’t have to be a genius to know he was looking at the barest hint of hellfire.

There was only one being on earth who could readily access it.

And that was Victor Sloan, the Fiery demon who fell to Earth nearly five hundred years ago, when the Nether ripped apart and brought an army of angels and demons down upon the unsuspecting humans and their greatest cities.

“I said, what are you doing?” Victor repeated in the same low, silken tone, his pupils flaring crimson with demonic power.

Cassius knew this little demonstration was more for the benefit of his attackers than his own. He’d known Victor for several hundred years. Unlike the fools who’d ambushed him, the Fiery wasn’t the kind of man who needed to put on a show of force to command respect.

“We were just passing through when this asshole picked a fight with us,” the first demon said, his tone defiant.

Victor looked at Cassius. “Is that correct?”

Cassius sighed. “No.” He tucked his dagger back in its sheath, the energy throbbing through his soul core abating as he curbed his powers.

“I didn’t think so either.” Victor’s gaze lingered on Cassius before shifting to his attackers. “How about you make yourself scarce before I decide to follow this up with your respective agencies?”

The demons and wizards glanced uneasily at one other.

A wave of hot air blasted through the alley, warming Cassius’s skin. Victor arched an eyebrow at the four men.

“Or would you rather I deal with you right now?”

The four men turned and disappeared hastily down the footpath.

“Is your face okay?” Victor asked.

Cassius gazed from his attackers’ fading figures to the demon beside him.

“It’s fine,” he murmured dismissively. “It’ll heal in no time.” He hesitated, wary. “How did you find me?”

A chagrined expression came over Victor.

“I saw Russell talking to those men after you left the council chambers. I could tell they were up to no good when they followed you out of the building.”

Cassius grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Your boss is a real jackass.”

Victor smiled faintly. “I know. And I’m sorry. I doubt he realized they would go this far.”

Cassius wasn’t surprised by the apology. Victor was one of the few people who had ever treated him civilly since the Fall. Though their paths had crossed on many an occasion in the last few centuries, they had been but passing acquaintances up until two months ago, when Cabalista and the other agencies called on Cassius to help them find Tania Lancaster.

Few people in the world knew that the organizations who governed the Fallen and human magic users secretly relied on Cassius to deal with their most challenging affairs, this despite making no secret of their dislike for him publicly over the years. Although Cassius was well within his rights to refuse to assist them, he knew helping them out from time to time kept them from persecuting him twenty-four seven. Besides, most of the cases they hired him for were ones where human lives were at risk. However much the world hated him, Cassius had never been able to turn his back on it.

To Cassius’s surprise, working with the multi-agency task force that had been put together to tackle Tania Lancaster and her sect had been less of a chore than he’d expected it to be. He knew he had Victor and a few key figures from the other organizations to thank for that. Though he wouldn’t exactly call them his friends, they weren’t his enemy either.

“Do you want to go for a drink?”

Victor’s question sent surprise shooting through Cassius. He masked it behind a steady stare.

“You don’t owe me anything, Victor. On the contrary, I’m grateful for your support these past few weeks. Especially today.”

Victor was the only one who’d asked him if he’d wanted to take a break during the endless questioning by the demonic council that afternoon. The demon may have been Gilmore’s second in command, but he didn’t bow to the Cabalista head nor blindly follow his orders, unlike some of the other council members.

Victor would have no trouble overpowering Russell in a fight. Though Russell was a formidable Aerial demon in his own right, a Fiery’s abilities could not be easily outdone by any power on Earth. Any power except for the one Cassius had recently demonstrated during his battle with Tania and her sect. Strangely enough, Victor had been the least bothered out of everyone who’d witnessed Cassius’s latent abilities that day.

It was almost as if he’d been expecting it.

Since Cassius had no interests in agency politics, he didn’t know the reason why Victor wasn’t the current head of Cabalista. The demon was more than capable of assuming the role. Not only was Victor a born politician, he was level-headed, pragmatic, and more attuned to the political undercurrents in the various otherworldly and magical societies than Gilmore would ever be. Cassius suspected the other agencies would appreciate working with Victor rather than the current Cabalista head. He was busy mulling over this and debating whether to politely bid goodbye to Victor and take his leave, when the demon spoke.

“I’m not asking you to go for a drink because of what just nearly happened,” Victor said quietly. “I’m doing it because I enjoy your company.”

Cassius’s pulse stuttered.

This time, there was no mistaking the interest in Victor’s eyes.

FALLEN MESSENGERS SERIES
Fractured Souls
Spellbound
Edge Lines
Oathbreaker
Harbinger
Crimson Skies
Wicked - Fallen Messengers Short Story Collection