Grace stepped toward the restaurant door but a little mewl caught her attention. A tiny gray and black, striped cat huddled underneath a sidewalk bench. The cat was drenched, presumably from the taxicab tidal wave, and was none too happy about it.
“You poor thing.” She squatted down awkwardly in her tight dress and heels and let the cat sniff her hand. It rubbed its cheek against her fingers, purring loudly. Grace unwound the scarf from around her neck and dried the cat’s fur as best she could. Now contented, it nudged her hand with its chin, demanding more scratches. Grace started to oblige, but the cat abruptly cocked its head to the side then darted away, startled by something behind her.
Grace turned abruptly to look for what had frightened the cat, but the stiletto of her right heel bent at a strange angle and then snapped underneath her. She fell sideways, her face narrowly missing the bench’s metal arm rest. Her necklace wasn’t so fortunate. The delicate chain dug harshly into her skin and then released with a snap. The ring that always hung around it hit the concrete with a metallic clang and started rolling toward the street drain.
“No!” She threw herself toward it, stretching out her hand until her shoulder burned. She could not lose her ring. It was the only thing she had of her mother’s. It was bad enough the gold chain had broken, but the ring was a family heirloom. She’d never forgive herself if she lost it.
She landed on the sidewalk with a thud and skidded along the pavement, the ring mere inches from the sewer. It teetered precariously on. the edge. She stretched further, gritting her teeth. Her fingers closed over it. Thank God. She rubbed the familiar, etched, silver surface, relief washing over her.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry I startled you! Are you alright?” a man said behind her. “Let me help you up.”
Grace turned her head toward him. He had a kind face, sandy hair, and dark eyes. He wore designer from head to toe. He was either wealthy or trying hard to look it. His tie was perfectly positioned with a matching handkerchief. Fastidious perhaps? But there was a smudge on his lapel. Oh, perfect. This was the guy who’d gotten the mud on his jacket from her taxicab.
“I’m fine, thank you.” She waved off his outstretched hand. She didn’t like strangers touching her – even safe looking ones.
Grace picked herself up off the ground, the ring enclosed in a death grip in one hand, the broken chain in the other. She put the damaged chain in her purse but not the ring. It was much too precious to tuck into a purse with no zippers. Grace uncurled her fingers with a sigh. Since the day her mother had given her the ring, she’d only ever worn it on a chain, just as her mom had, and her mom before that, as far back as anyone could remember. At least, that’s what her mother had said. It was so small. Maybe she could wear it on her pinky. Better break tradition than misplace it. She slid the ring on – a perfect fit.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” The man asked, regaining her attention.
Only then did she examine the rest of herself. She tried not to cry at the state of her coat. It was covered in mud from the puddles on the street. One of the buttons was missing. Don’t cry; it’s only a coat. Deep breath. She could get it dry cleaned, after all, and she was sure that she’d put the spare button somewhere in the closet.
Mildly placated, she looked further down. Blood trickled down her leg from a brush burn on her right knee. Her pumps lay a few feet away on the sidewalk, the one heel hanging solely by fabric. There was absolutely no way she was going on this date.
“A little ruffled, that’s all. Nothing serious,” she finally answered.
“Let me at least help you get inside. It’s freezing out here. Where were you going?” He bent down and picked up her broken shoes.
“The restaurant, but I think I’ll call a cab home.”
He looked at her more closely and furrowed his brow. “You’re not Grace, are you?”
You’ve got to be kidding. “Let me guess. You’re Peter.”
“One and the same!” He flashed sparkly, too perfect, teeth. Probably a dentist. “Look, I can understand if you want to reschedule.”
Ugh. As much as she didn’t want to be here right now, she definitely wasn’t going to go through all of this again. She might as well get it over with. “No, no, it’s fine. Let’s go inside.”
✽✽✽
The pull imminent death had been harassing Kalev for the better part of two hours. The tug had deepened from a small annoyance to an unignorable yank. It wouldn’t be long now, perhaps only a few minutes more. He stopped in front of an old brick colonial, three houses in from the corner. Lights were on in many of the windows, but most of the movement was in the front upstairs bedroom. This must be the place.
Gently pushing off the ground, he floated up to the window and passed through it, settling in the corner of the room. An old man lay on the bed, surrounded by family and friends. He clutched the weathered hand of his wife. Despite his obvious pain, the man was beaming at her. She continued to pass her hand over his wavy grey hair, occasionally dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Dolores, don’t cry,” he said, his voice a rasping whisper. “Look at what we’ve created together.” He nodded toward their children and grandchildren.
“It’s been 60 years, Albert.” She wiped a tear away. “I don’t know how I can live without you.”
“Don’t you worry. We’ll meet again real soon.” Tears streamed down the rest of the family’s faces, but his wife stiffened her upper lip at his request. “Will you sing it for me, Dollface, one last time?”
“Of course, Darling.” She nodded, and began to sing softly, “When the dawn flames in the sky, I love you; When the birdlings wake and cry, I love you…”
The woman’s weathered but strong voice filled the room. Kalev’s chest began to burn and his throat started to close. As of one of the younger women began wailing, his discomfort intensified. What was happening to him? This couldn’t be sorrow, could it?
He was clearly not meant for this line of work. He’d been a vastly superior Guardian. Damn Azriel and the entire Celestial Council. One mistake and they’d demoted him to soul recovery duty. The ongoing proximity to humans during their final moments had evidently made him emotionally vulnerable. It was getting harder with each passing year. He needed to find a way to get reinstated as a Guardian as quickly as possible.
“Who are you?” The question brought Kalev out of his thoughts. The crying in the room had intensified. It was time.
“Peace be with you, Albert,” he said. “I am the angel, Kalev. I am here to take you home.”
He waited for Albert’s response. Kalev never knew what to expect - sometimes it was elation, sometimes fear, sometimes relief. The man standing before him, now filled with the vigor of youth and the glow of rebirth, reached out to shake his hand rather than push him away.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve been expecting you.”
Surprised by Albert’s calmness in the face of such drastic change, Kalev forgot what he had been about to say and returned the handshake. “Is it hard to leave them?”
Where had that question come from? It had escaped him before he’d even finished the thought. He never asked people questions of such an emotional nature on assignment. It wasn’t his place. He’d only meant to ask Albert if he was ready to ascend.
“It’s hard, yes, but I’ll see them again. This small separation is worth an eternity together. They are what made life worth living.”
“I see.”
Without further delay, Kalev lifted from the floor, through the roof and up towards the clouds. Albert’s soul was so light it was almost weightless, easily gliding alongside him with only a gentle tug. He must have been a virtuous man. If only they were all like this.
Past the clouds, the familiar alabaster gates dazzled in the blazing sunlight.
“So, they are pearly white, then,” Albert whispered.
Kalev nodded then set Albert down. “This is where I must leave you.”
“I hope we meet again wh
en you bring my wife home to me.” Albert shook his hand once more and then walked toward the opening gates. A group of tiny cherubs flew out of it, giggling playfully as they swooped around him, nuzzling him affectionately to welcome him home.
Kalev waited for the inevitable hollowness that formed in his chest each time the soul he’d lifted entered heaven. The first few times it had only been a minor annoyance at the corner of his awareness. Not now. Now it was all-encompassing—a longing that might never be fulfilled. If only he could rise further in the ranks, maybe he would have the opportunity to return. His 20-year review was in three short weeks. Hopefully, he’d be considered for reinstatement as a Guardian then.
He reluctantly began the descent toward earth. Many days, if he didn’t sense any souls in his district who needed immediate assistance, he’d stay and stare at the entrance, imagining what it would be like the day he finally passed back through. Today was not one of those days. He had urgent personal business to attend to. Many lifetimes ago, he’d made a promise to Joan, and no matter the consequences, he’d always kept his promise.
✽✽✽
Her rare laugh carried across the restaurant before he spotted her. The thick tumble of her silky hair hid the rest of her features, but there was no question it was her. She was relaxed, casually moving her hands in conversation. The man across from her leaned forward in his chair, soaking in every word. He was just the sort Grace would like—neat, clean, and nonthreatening.
He said something secretly to her, and she giggled. Was Grace enjoying herself on a date? That hadn’t happened since the early days of her courtship with her ex-boyfriend, Steve. Her happiness hadn’t lasted long. This man better not use her to pass the time before marrying someone from high society like Steve had. It had been infuriating not to intervene. He doubted he could restrain himself a second time.
Grace reached behind her and pull her hair to one side, revealing the hollow of her neck. A flirtatious move? She was interested. Wait. Something wasn’t right. But what was it? He struggled to figure it out. Was he this paranoid? Over-analyzing every move she made? He was here to protect her, not scrutinize her. Should he leave to get some objectivity?
Then it hit him. Her necklace was missing. He hadn’t thought of it at first because she never took it off. Ever. In a flash he was on the other side of the room, facing her. He searched her daring décolletage; his eyes sliding down her fair, radiant skin, lingering on the deep vee at the neckline. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her show this much cleavage. He shook his head. What was he thinking? Focus, Kalev. Is there a necklace? No. Shit. He supposed that didn’t much matter as long as she still had the ring that always hung from it. But where was it?
Grace picked up her glass of white wine and took a long, slow sip. There. It was on her finger. Thank the Lord, she hadn’t lost it. His relief left as quickly as it had come. She had put it on? Not good. In fact, it was catastrophically bad. He was still paying the price for the few moments Grace’s mother had put that ring on her own finger twenty years ago. And now this?
He groaned. He was going to have to tell the Council, and he had no doubt that Azriel would try to use it as an excuse to keep him in his current place for the next thousand years, or worse, demote him further to Cemetery Protector. That position made soul recovery look delightful. But what would he tell them? ‘Oh, I was only verifying the safety of the girl you forbade me from seeing. Why? I just didn’t feel you were doing your job.’ He was sure that would go over well – when hell froze over.
Then he had another idea. Maybe he didn’t have to go to the Council right this second. What if he waited a little while? Demons would soon sense the ring’s power and inevitably try to attack her. He’d watch her the whole time of course, then jump in and save the day before she realized what was happening. She’d be perfectly safe. Afterwards, he’d have another angel watch over her while he visited the Council. He’d explain it was just a chance encounter—he’d been in the right place at the right time. They might be skeptical, but what proof would they have to the contrary? Once they got past that, then, perhaps, as a small token of gratitude, they would finally restore his Guardianship.
A voice within him said this plan wasn’t quite right —Joan certainly would not approve. But the possibility it held was too great for him to ignore. He had been the best Guardian the Council had ever had, and they knew it. Rescuing Grace would surely remind them of it. He would just have to keep a close eye on her until he could put the plan in motion.
Chapter 2
As waiters placed appetizers in front of the happy pair, Kalev grumbled. He did not approve of Peter. He was too sweet. There was no way his behavior was genuine. How could she believe this man? If one more complement passed Peter’s lips, he’d gag.
The familiar, brief buzz in his brain that alerted him to an incoming message from another angel, interrupted his thoughts.
“I need your help.” It was Jophial—another Soul Recovery Specialist. “I’ve got a heavy one.”
“I’m a little busy right this second.” Kalev didn’t like the idea of leaving Grace now that the ring was in play. “Is there anyone else available?”
Instead of telepathically responding, Jophial popped up beside him.
“Seriously, you’re checking in on her again? I thought the council banned you from seeing her.”
“I’m only here because I believe she is at serious risk.”
Jophial gave him a side long glance.
“I made a promise, Joph,” Kalev added.
Jophial seemed to understand that excuse better, but he still pressed him. “At risk? Man, look at her. She’s having a great time.” Jophial stuck his arm out toward her as if to emphasize his point. “They haven’t even gotten their entrees. Plus, no one else can help right now.”
Kalev made to protest, but Jophial cut him off.
“Come on, you’ll be back before they’ve started the after-dinner coffee.”
Kalev hesitated for only a moment more. He couldn’t decline without further explanation, and he wasn’t willing to give it. She’d be safe enough in the restaurant. An attack in a place this crowded was highly improbable.
“Alright, let’s go get this boulder of yours.”
✽✽✽
Jophial led Kalev to a large, 19th century, two-story in the heart of West Roxbury. A soul was standing in front of the house next to his former body. In all likelihood, he’d gone out to grab the newspaper, had a heart attack, and died. Nothing new.
“Did you already explain our modus operandi?” Kalev asked.
“I did,” Jophial said. “He didn’t like it.”
Kalev turned to the soul in question. “I am the angel, Kalev. And you are…”
“I am Theodore Mortimer Sebastian Montgomery the Thir-”
Kalev cut him off. “Ted will be sufficient. Let’s go.”
“Well, I never…” Ted huffed and sputtered. “I thought you were supposed to walk into the light!”
“It’s not quite like that,” Kalev said through gritted teeth as both he and Jophial began to haul Ted upwards.
“Your soul is only as heavy as the weight of yours sins, and by the feel of it, you’ve done your fair share. It makes it very difficult for us Soul Recovery Specialists to do our work,” Jophial said. He also had little tolerance for such humans. Maybe that was part of the reason they got along so well.
“This is ridiculous. I’ve gone to church every Sunday!” Both angels rolled their eyes. It was amazing that humans thought going to church justified all their cruelty, ignorance, and hatred. How could anyone possibly think humans were a marvelous creation?
“The weight of the soul doesn’t lie,” Jophial said.
“We’ll get this all straightened out when we get to the gates, gentlemen.” Ted’s indignation was visible.
“We could just leave you here, you know,” Kalev said. “I’m sure the demons would find you quite delectable. They really appreciate a hearty meal, and you a
re akin to a feast.”
“That is against the rules,” Jophial whispered; even as one of the more free-spirited angels, Jophial had no sense of humor when it came to the rules. Kalev supposed he’d been that way at one time too. Yet, since he’d broken them, he’d crossed over to a different place —a place where he understood life differently and couldn’t go back.
“I’m joking. I know that as well as you.”
Afterward, there was no more talking. The demons could arrive at any moment to try to claim their prize, and, if he and Jophial didn’t get past the clouds quickly, the demons were likely to get what they were after.
While the average soul usually took approximately 10 minutes to escort from the ground to the gates, this ascent was taking the better part of an hour. What had this guy done? Better not to ask. An angel was not to sit in judgement, only to do his or her very best to bring in every soul they could. No one, no matter how villainous, was purposefully left to endure such a fate. This soul should feel extremely fortunate that was the case.
With a joint sigh of relief, Jophial and Kalev unceremoniously dropped their load in front of the gates.
“What do you think?” Jophial asked.
“I hope that’s sarcasm, Joph. There is no chance he’s going in.” Kalev folded his arms and waited.
“Why aren’t they opening?!” Ted was obviously not used to waiting for anything.
“It means you aren’t yet worthy,” Kalev said. “You need to get in line over there and receive further instructions.” He gestured towards his far right. As Ted’s gaze fell on where Kalev was pointing, all his bluster finally left him. There was a line of souls slowly treading down a pathway that led away from the gates and into a swirl of dark clouds.
Guardian Page 2
