Seventeen-year-old Mateo Ward has spent his existence watching the lives of simple and average human beings while craving simplicity of his own. For the last Archangel, a craving like this was beyond his reach the moment the King of Hell, Lucifer, placed a bounty on his head after birth.
As the Last Archangel of Caelum, Mateo is the only one powerful enough to defeat Lucifer and control the Three Worlds: Caelum, Inferi, and Terra. The only problem? He's a teenager who has never trained, can't control his powers, and numbs his problems with alcohol and girls.
With time running out, Mateo must round up an army of disorderly friends in order to defeat Lucifer, fight for his people, and win his freedom.
Seventeen-year-old Mateo Ward has spent his existence watching the lives of simple and average human beings while craving simplicity of his own. For the last Archangel, a craving like this was beyond his reach the moment the King of Hell, Lucifer, placed a bounty on his head after birth.
As the Last Archangel of Caelum, Mateo is the only one powerful enough to defeat Lucifer and control the Three Worlds: Caelum, Inferi, and Terra. The only problem? He's a teenager who has never trained, can't control his powers, and numbs his problems with alcohol and girls.
With time running out, Mateo must round up an army of disorderly friends in order to defeat Lucifer, fight for his people, and win his freedom.
This was the only time it felt good to be me.
Another loud party, another round of hours wasted forgetting our troubles, and I couldnât get enough of it. It had been that way since we were sixteen years old, and I didnât have plans to change it. I mean, I always regret it in the morning. My hangovers only fueled the fire of my self-loathing and I knew better than to go as hard as I did, but I never cared. How could I? Everyone around me was coming of age and signing up for war or dropping like flies. There was still time to enjoy the end of the high. At least, thatâs the narrative my friends pushed whenever I wanted to stay home and relax.
âShots!â Damian shouted into my ear, miming the action in case I couldnât hear him over the pounding music.
He pointed at the kitchen table not far from him. It was littered with shot glasses and liquor that made him grin. I nodded and offered a pair of thumbs up before closing my eyes and focusing on my surroundings. The sound faded into a slower song, but the bass still shook the hardwood floors and sent a feeling of pure bliss through me.
A few girls shouted in approval and the sea of people Iâd drowned in pushed closer to me as more guests joined the dance floor. It reeked of anxiety and the sweet taste of lust lingered on my tongue. Still, the feeling of desperation from every corner of the room was the most powerful one.
It wasnât like I enjoyed any of it. I hated it. I couldnât remember the last time I felt my own range of emotions. Itâs like they no longer existed. A small price to pay for a large gift Iâd never asked for. Damian was waiting for me with a shot glass filled by the time I found my way off the dance floor and over to the messy table. We tapped the bottom of our glasses onto the table and its sticky surface, clinked them together, and knocked them back in one swift movement. It was way too practiced and perfected for it to be random but then again, it was us. Everything we did was in sync and perfect. We were like an old married couple.
âJesus Christ, what the hell was that? Gasoline?â
Damian coughed before offering up another shot, âDonât complain. Weâre here to get fucked up, not babysit.â
We took the second round a lot more reluctantly, our old tap and clink moving slower than before. The liquid burned with a lot more venom and made my head spin. My eyes tried to focus through the darkness and land on a solitary spot that might help while I sat at the edge of the table with jelly legs. Wobbling around at a party like this was not an option.
I wasnât necessarily a lightweight. Half of my nights were handled with bottles of scotch and brandy alone, but with the few sleeping pill. Iâd taken before Damian dragged me out of our place, I was suddenly fighting off the dying need to rest while slipping into a drunken state. Iâd be grasping at nothing to keep me from falling soon. So instead, I sat and mentally prepared myself, perfectly aware that Iâd made a mistake. There was no going back.
My eyes drifted to Damian, whoâd managed to find a spot beside me despite the cluttered table and its faulty legs. Where one of us went, the other one was surely right beside them. âMaybe itâs because Iâve had an edible or something but Iâve gotta admit defeat. Ali knows how to throw a better party than us.â He muttered as his eyes scanned the nearly trashed living room.
I snorted, âYou hate Ali.â
âSure, but I'm not a sore loser.â
I ruffled my best friendâs hair and brushed aside the bitter taste that settled on my tongue at the mere mention of the hostess. Seeing her earlier that night had been enough to hold me over for at least another day or two.
She was the very definition of perfection in my eyes with her brown skin and raven black hair that always made me weak. When they werenât enough, her light gray eyes and soft voice finished the job. Although Alissandra Daelus seemed small, kind, and delicate, she was also fierce, outspoken, and intelligent beyond comparison.
We kissed once during a game of Truth or Dare when we were twelve. As much as I tried to, I never could forget that day or the way her lips felt against mine. Iâd been crazy about her ever since, bind or no bind.
Damian, however, despised Ali. He didnât see perfection in her the way most others did, which was only right. They were both born different. While Damian still served a purpose for our people, Ali was simply Aliâan ordinary girl with no title given to her at birth or gifts assigned to her the older she got. She had her wit and her drive, that was it. She was one of us by birth alone but with nothing to back that up. I know that hurt her more than Damianâs passive aggressive ways.
Ali rounded the corner, almost as if sheâd heard her name, with her arm linked through her best friend Hazelâs and her head thrown back in laughter. My legs stretched themselves out for me to stand awkwardly while my fingers moved to adjust my shirt. Ignoring the way Damian mocked me was part of the routine.
Even if he couldnât stand her, he encouraged me to make a move, but I never knew how to talk to her. Every time she was near or tried to strike up a conversation, I froze up and started babbling like a complete idiot. Besides, it wasnât like I stood a chance.
She was always attached at Nicolas Pax's hip. I envied his too perfect golden locks, diamonds for teeth, and the charm that was gifted to him before he could even speak. He swooped in like a hawk with a refill for Ali and wrapped an arm around her waist.
âMatty! Dame!â Ali gushed drunkenly as she pried herself from her boyfriendâs hold and rushed towards us happily. I repressed the sudden urge to roll my eyes and gag. I hated that name. No one knew that better than Ali, the person who gave it to me. Yes, there was a period in my life where I wanted to shed my name and all its biblical glory to settle for Matthew, the more modern version. And yes, everyone in my life laughed in my face when I talked about it and mocked me for weeks, but the notion alone got them to at the very least call me 'Mat'. Something about âMattyâ made that all go away.
âYou guys came! Zella! Look! They came!â
âYouâre leaving the window for bad jokes wide open for me, Ali. Please, donât tempt me.â Damian sighed sadly.
âOf course, we came,â I shook my head at my best friend and looked down at a beaming Ali. âWhen do we ever miss parties?â
âSomething always comes up when itâs one of my parties.â A smirk spread over her perfectly full lips. âAnd everyone knows I throw the best parties.â
âExcuse her, sheâs wasted.â Hazel cut in merrily, kissing Damianâs cheek and blocking the space between Ali and I with a hug.
Hazel was always there with a genuine and warm smile that left my insides fuzzy and haunted by an unfamiliar sensation. She was what most humans considered an angel. Caring, healing, and always by your side. Sheâd been Aliâs best friend since sheâd first come to Terra and theyâd never grown apart.
âIâm not wasted. Iâm happy.â Ali corrected with a pout as she rested her chin on Hazelâs shoulder.
âSheâs wasted.â Damian and I muttered collectively before beaming at the pair.
Aliâs tongue showed itself off for a few seconds before her lips pressed themselves against Hazelâs flushed cheek. I averted my gaze and focused on the patterns of lights flashing against their living room wall.
âI need to pee.â
The announcement broke from my lips suddenly and earned me brief stares of confusion followed by an outbreak of stupid smiles.
Damian hid behind his red cup, but I knew by the way his eyes came together to crease and almost close that he was stifling laughter. I hated him sometimes.
âCome on then,â Ali giggled as she reached between Hazel and I to grip my wrist and tug like a small child. I stared at her through wide eyes and tried to make sense of the look of amusement she offered in return. âYou can use the restroom in my room.â
She pushed me through the crowd towards her bedroom. Iâd never actually stepped inside, but had seen the door every now and again on my occasional visits. It wasnât hard to miss. Her initials were painted brightly in silver against the purple door, but she and I were hardly friends. I never once thought to step in without being invited.
We stumbled inside and shut out the noise behind us before she climbed onto her bed and pointed at the door across the room without uttering a word or paying me any mind. I appreciated it. I didnât need to sound like an idiot in front of her. So, I proceeded to handle my business in peace.
When I stepped back out, Ali was still in the same spot, unbothered and in what looked like a moment of sheer bliss. I longed to know what that felt like. Her head lifted slightly to catch sight of me before her hand patted the spot next to her. A silent invite to join her in bed was all Iâd ever dreamt about since we were kids and now that I was finally on the receiving end, I wanted her to take it back. Still, I climbed up next to her and rested on my back. My eyes focused on her while she kept her gaze on the ceiling.
âWhatâs up?â
âThe stars.â She answered quietly.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as my eyes narrowed to inspect Aliâs profile. Maybe I was hearing things.
âHow trashed are you exactly?â
The question left my lips playfully and made Ali roll her eyes. She turned to face me briefly, long lashes fluttering madly against warm cheeks, and grabbed my chin to turn my face towards the ceiling. Sure enough, there was a collection of stars painted in silver and gold against her bone-white ceiling. They glowed despite the darkness and sent an odd feeling of peace through me.
âDonât be an asshole.â Ali muttered. There was a smile in her voice.
I shrugged, âI canât help it, it comes naturally. This is really cool though.â
âYeah, Hazel thinks so too.â
âSo, is this what you two do? Throw big parties and then come lie here to look up at your ceiling?â
âWe donât stargaze when we get in bed together, no.â
I pushed around a sharp pain in my chest and focused on the planets scattered between the constellations. There was already a headache threatening to ruin my night. I didnât need the thought of her and Hazel in bed sealing the deal. My body lurched forward to get away from her as quickly as possible but everything around me was starting to spin and turn into a cyclone of colors.
âAre you ok?â She sat up slowly beside me and rested her hand on
my shoulder.
âI donâtâIâm not sure.â
With a frustrated sigh, I stood up and let my legs struggle for balance before giving up and holding onto Aliâs bedpost. She climbed to the edge beside me and rested her hands against my cheeks to bring my attention to her, but it was no use. I couldnât hear anything around us. The music that was vibrating through her bedroom walls was mute and her face was quickly fading from my line of vision.
A blow to the head sent me crashing onto the cold floor. My eyes were shut tight, and I could hear Aliâs scream break through my moment of deafness, but I was no longer in the same room as her. I was in a small apartment. I recognized it instantly, having spent many drunken nights on the chocolate-colored couch to my left.
In the corner not far from me was Noah Blanche, crouched down in the fetal position. Blood stained her face and clothes, seeping into the old creaky floorboards like spilt wine. I let my eyes graze the room and spotted the demon by my feet. The sight of him flat on his stomach, with his pitch-black eyes open wide, made me jump back in terror.
I walked over to Noah and hovered, following her eyes towards the mark on her arm. A carefully placed sun surrounded by a large serpent eating its own tail was burned into her skin, leaving it red and swollen. They branded her like cattle.
I could hear footsteps coming from down the hall. They were heavy and forceful. It never took them long to come back after the mark was made. My hands began to shake as they balled themselves into fists. The front door swung open and slammed against the wall with a loud thud, causing Noah and I to jump. She covered her mouth and let the tears spill over. Her entire body was shaking with fear as a pair of feet stepped in slowly and all I could do was stay frozen.
âNoah, get up! Run!â
It was useless. She couldnât hear me.
I felt my stomach drop. My body was ready to collapse again but I couldnât leave her. Not like that. My fingers clung onto the pendant on my chest, a thumb rubbing over my family crest as I began to mutter a prayer under my breath. I never prayed, at least not like that, like I actually meant it.
The demon stepped into the apartment with a wicked smile on his thin lips. I knew exactly who he was. Iâd heard stories of him, and I knew of others whoâd seen him. There was no mistaking the tall, lean, and muscular body. The chestnut-colored hair and the forest green eyes that seemed to never end. He wore Luciferâs brand on his chest proudly, exposing it to the world through a poorly buttoned shirt. Levi Fortitude, Luciferâs Right Hand, and the only person trusted enough to fill important missions.
His long legs made their way towards us with eyes that scanned the room for any other potential prey. He could taste the fear that radiated off her and let it feed his ego the same way I could feel it and let it fuel my fear. He was the big bad wolf coming to blow her big house down.
Levi stopped in front of Noah and held out his hand to her. His long thin fingers caressed her chin ever so delicately.
âHave you come to a decision?â His voice was like velvet.
She let out another painful wail and shook her head, letting the tears fall harder. I wouldnât blame her if she chose to live and fight for Lucifer. She wasnât the first and wouldnât be the last.
âI donât want to die,â she whimpered.
Levi let out a sinister laugh, âGood choice, angel.â
âYou didnât let me finish.â Noah snapped with a voice stronger than before. âI donât want to die but I would rather die a million painful deaths than fight for you animals.â
Levi didnât like her tone or the fact that she spit blood onto his boots. His open hand closed into a tight fist and his smirk turned into a sneer. I knew what was coming but I couldnât tear my eyes away from them.
The menacing demon grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her up with ease. I could see his smirk returning as he wrapped his fingers around her throat. Noah closed her eyes tightly and began to recite her birth announcement under her breath, making Levi laugh some more. He turned his head slowly towards my direction and shook his head.
âRun.â
Everything went pitch black again.
I heard an ear-splitting scream and felt the air leave my lungs. I could feel myself scratching at the floor, squirming around trying to find a way to snap out of whatever happened. Somewhere far away I could hear Damian shouting for Hazel to take control and help me breathe. All I wanted to do was open my eyes. I wanted to warn everyone that Noah was gone and that the attacks had begun again. But all I could do was continue to thrash violently against the hard floor, gasp for air, and clutch at my chest.
âDamian, you have to help.â
âItâs going to hurt him!â Damian shouted in return.
âHeâs dying!â Aliâs voice was shrill.
I could hear the hesitation in Damianâs voice as a groan escaped his lips.
âFine. Move!â
For a few seconds, I couldnât tell what was happening, and then felt my body surge with electricity. It made my veins burn and my heart race harder than before, but my breathing never returned. It frustrated Damian. I could hear him cursing us both under his breath before he tried it again. It was stronger that time, the bolts leaving his hands were more controlled, but they were doing absolutely nothing for me.
âGoddamnit, Mat!â
My body rose and slammed back onto the ground. It felt like a sledgehammer had crushed every single bone in my chest wall, and left me gasping. I inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply, air finally entering my lungs, the pressure from my head leaving almost immediately, and my body falling still.
My eyes shoot open and looked right into Damianâs brown ones. His hands were still gripping my shirt as he waited for me to react.
âMat.â
âWe have to go.â I forced through labored breaths.
âStay silent, Mat. You had a hard fall.â Hazel instructed sweetly.
âNo, you donât understand. They killed Noah. Theyâre comingââ
I blacked out before I could finish.
When I woke up for the second time that night, I felt like Iâd survived a hundred-foot fall. I could hear everyone around me talking in hushed tones as if not to wake me. My hands explored my surroundings, and I was instantly grateful that I was no longer on the floor. I could feel the sheets beneath meâsmooth, silky, and expensiveâand smell the holy water resting in Hazelâs bag from a mile away. It stunk more than the anxiety floating around the room. Still, it beat being taken home to my mother.
I tried to push myself up and watched Damian and Hazel rush towards me as if the movement alone could kill me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a worried-looking Ali leaning against the wall and whispering to Nicolas, who stared back at me intensely.
âWhat the hell happened?â
âYou donât remember?â Hazel pulled out a small light and flashed it into my eyes routinely.
Of course, I remembered. How could I ever force myself to forget something like that? Iâd heard stories of children blacking out memories of serious trauma, but I wasnât that young and as much as I tried to fight it, I always remembered.
âI remember.â I assured her and pushed Damianâs hand away from latching onto my face. âI remember watching my friend die. I remember thrashing against the floor and not being able to breathe. I donât get why I blacked out.â
âYour body went into shock. Itâs normal.â She explained with a shrug. It paid to have friends who were Healers. âYouâve been asleep for a few hours. Weâve all been taking shifts to watch you. Youâre not dyingâyet.â
There was a small smile on Hazelâs lips that made me feel oddly alright with what sheâd said. Iâd dreamed for years of dying and ending the war around us. A war my birth parents started and created me to finish. I always figured one day death would finally decide to come to greet me.
My death alone would bring an overflowing bounty of peace over my people. Maybe not between the two worlds fighting over me, I couldnât be sure of that, but I liked to think that was the case. Without me, none of them had the leverage or control they both wanted. Iâd be doing my friends a favor and giving the people who hated me justice.
My eyes wandered back to Ali, who was smiling at me coyly, and Nicolas, who was glaring as he looked between us bitterly. He never did like me. His father died trying to ward off demons so that I could escape. Nicolas was only three years old.
âFall much?â Ali moved towards me with a growing smile.
Her hand caught mine clumsily, thin delicate fingers weaving their way through my calloused ones with ease. It made my heart skip various beats and a roar of pride erupt deep inside of me.
âWhat can I say? Iâm all legs.â I answered quietly and returned the smile. âDid everyone else leave?â
âDamian did a good job of scattering everyone off.â Hazel giggled around her words from her corner of the room.
I watched her rummage through her drawers for herbs and crystals to use on me. Healing me with simple remedies was always Hazelâs favorite thing to do. Sometimes I had no choice but to oblige her.
âAli, weâve gotta go.â Nicolas murmured from behind them all with a bored expression.
âNic has to go see Noahâs parents and I promised Iâd tag along.
Sorry.â Ali whispered as she released my hand slowly. âIâm glad youâre okay.â
Without a second glance, she turned on her heels and followed her boyfriend out of the room, leaving Damian rolling his eyes and Hazel shaking her head in disapproval. I plopped myself back down against the delicate sheets and shifted uncomfortably, restraining myself from running out of the room to find Noahâs body or her murderer. I hated feeling helpless or labeled worthless, especially when I had absolutely no control.
My body ached immensely, and every bone screamed for me to sit still but it was too difficult. Damian shot me a look and shook his head with a groan. He was probably biting his tongue to keep from telling me off about how inappropriate it was to accept Aliâs innocent handholding.
âHow long have I been out for?â I asked as I stared at leaves painted against Hazelâs ceiling.
âItâs been a while, dude.â Damian replied.
âAnd Nicolas was in here the whole time?â
He scoffed, âIt was more painful for me than it was for you, trust me. I wanted to strangle him.â
I allowed myself a moment to replay the events that had occurred. I had suffered from some sort of attack that night, most likely scared the living crap out of some of my closest friends, and somehow, managed to stay alive. I couldnât help but feel happy and relieved that night hadnât been an entire let down.
But the realization that Noah was gone, and the recruitments were starting over, weighed heavy on my shoulders. Of course, they did. Everyone was turning of age and it was time for them to choose who they fought for. It wasnât long before it was my turn and thinking about
it made me shift uncomfortably again in Hazelâs bed.
âDame.â
Damian tore his eyes away from his phone and nodded at me once
to acknowledge my call.
âI watched her die.â
He let out a sigh. Emotions were always a burden to him, which is why he felt them so deeply. He walked to my side to rest a hand on my shoulder gently.
âWe were hoping you forgot.â
âHow can I forget something like that?â Anger washed over me. âHow can I forget her being pushed up against that wall, her feet dangling beneath her, that scream she let out, the smell ofââ I choked as my words caught themselves against the lump in my throat and winced in pain.
âWeâwe didnât want the nightmares to come back.â Damian spoke carefully. My shoulder tensed up beneath him.
Wherever I was, death was close behind, laughing in my ear and waiting patiently for someone to slip up. Iâd already witnessed four deaths prior to Noah's and each came with sick, harsh, overwhelming nightmares that left me more broken than before.
âCan we go home now?â
âOf course.â Damian helped me up as gently as he could.
âWait, no! What the hell?â Hazel rushed over and pushed me back into bed. âHeâs not well, Damian! You should know better!â
âHeâs tired and wants to rest!â
âWell, the both of you can rest here. Go on, get some sleep. Iâll make sure itâs dreamless.â
Damian squeezed in bed beside me, reaching out to wrap an arm lazily around my waist, and rested his head against mine. Hazelâs hands went to work on my face, her fingers tracing over the burning scratches and aching bruises gently.
âIâll take care of those by tomorrow, donât worry.â
âTomorrow?â I repeated in a confused daze. Thanks to her, sleep was creeping up too quickly. âWhatâs tomorrow?â
âThe Council called a meeting. Theyâve got something to announce. And you and I both know announcements are never good.â
In 'Bellator: Libri de Sole' by author Fynn Orion the reader gets to follow the tense build up to and cathartic violence of a long anticipated battle between Angels and Demons. Told from the perspective of its teenage and young adult characters, it's as much tangled French farce of love triangles and conflicted friendships as an epic biblical conflict.
Principal delinquent is Mateo Ward, a 'chosen one' that attempts to avoid, or ignore, his provenance and doom through the application of excessive alcohol and persistent partying. It doesn't work for him as the protagonist nor me as the reader. Though his character does grow a little later on, I was never able to connect with this petulant and irresponsible privileged rich kid.
Set mostly in the bland apartments and night clubs of an urban Earth, with only brief dips into heaven and hell, it lacked any of the flavour and imagery typical of Christian belief and mythology. 'Angel / Demon' could be swapped for 'Fairy / Goblin' or 'Venusian / Martian' and the prose would still fit.
Personally, I am simply not into the whole 'will they, won't they become an item' quandary so prevalent in teenage and young adult fiction. The question of which self absorbed youth may or may not be kissing another just doesn't engage me.
In my opinion, this book has major flaws in world building and self-consistency. An example of this is the factional war that will automatically start as soon Mateo reaches majority. Despite all the talk about how cataclysmic this will be, the Angels don't train their youth to fight because it would spoil there youthful fun. Ermm... okay, but what about the adults with their near godlike powers? Nothing. The Angels maintain no standing army or militia at all. Indeed, when it finally does come to the battle, it is left to a rag-tag bunch of hurriedly self-trained youngsters to defend Earth and Heaven against Hell's onslaught! Even worse, instead of taking a defensive stance, they actually ride out and knock on the gates of Hell to be let in to have the fight on Demon home turf. Incredibly, instead of grabbing the chance to shoot at the attackers from the safety of their high walls, the Demons politely open the gate and let the Angels in!
With many more smaller inconsistencies throughout the book, I just found it daft and non-sensical.