The Council sat before him at a long, curved table covered in white linens, each one wore their matching white council robes. Azriel was in the middle, looking the quintessential mythical hero, while the other four members of the council sat on either side. Azriel, Dobiel, Orfiel, Hadriel and Aniela made for an eclectic but powerful group. Each one brought their own unique perspectives to the table from their previous assignments. Azriel, as the leader of the Council, stood as Kalev approached the table.
“So, you have news that couldn’t wait for your twenty-year review? You know, it’s quite bold for a Reaper to demand an audience.”
Kalev bristled at the term ‘Reaper’, but he didn’t take the bait. Azriel was only trying to get him to lose his temper, fishing for any excuse to deny him reinstatement at his official review in a few weeks. Instead, he calmly dropped to one knee, as was customary when appearing before the Council.
“Venerable representatives, I humbly kneel before you to report that, this evening, Grace Lightbourne was attacked by a demon.”
The Council gasped. Apparently, they’d initially taken his ‘critical matter’ just as seriously as Azriel had— which was not at all.
“Are you sure? How did you come by this information?” Hadriel said. His white hair swayed as he leaned forward.
“After a soul recovery, I thought I’d spotted a daeva and tracked it to the reservoir in Chestnut Hill. There, it attacked a woman. Seeing as no other angels were in the vicinity, I stepped in to help, only to discover that it was Grace Lightbourne.” He hoped the Council didn’t question this small deviation from the truth. If they thought he’d been following Grace, he was in deep trouble. “I realize that I have inadvertently broken the command that this Council laid forth at my tribunal, but I humbly ask that my transgression be dismissed due to its accidental nature.”
Azriel’s face would have rivaled a child’s on Christmas morning. Undoubtedly, Azriel was already calculating all the ways he could use this against him.
“She has put the ring back on then,” Azriel said.
“Yes, she has,” Kalev replied.
“This is grave news indeed. Does the girl know what you are?” Hadriel asked.
“No, she does not. I was careful to avoid revealing any information that was not absolutely necessary.” At least that part was true. He hadn’t even wanted Grace to see a demon let alone actually have to fight one. “We must remove the ring from the D’Arc line.”
Orfiel, the historian of the group, rolled his eyes into the back of his head, examining the past. “The Ring of Visions has been in the D’Arc line for nearly six hundred years. A lovely little thing it is too. I was there at the forging. Those tiny crosses setting off the top, the triangular accent work, oh and the etchings on the oblong faces—so simple yet so elegant. Nothing like many of the other gaudy baubles from the period—"
“Yes, yes, Orfiel. Make your point,” Azriel said.
“I was going to say, it is beyond our discretion whether or not it is to be removed.” Orfiel’s eyes returned to glare at Azriel. Apparently, he didn’t like being hurried along.
“That may be true, but it hasn’t been used for a purpose since Joan,” Kalev said. Although he’d meant to point it out casually, he couldn’t hide a trace of bitterness.
Azriel was all too eager to point it out. “You should mind your tone when speaking with a member of the Council.”
Well, that was rich considering he’d been rude to Orfiel only moments before. But if Kalev hoped to accomplish anything, he’d have to ignore it.
“My apologies, Orfiel.”
Orfiel nodded. “Even if we did remove the ring, it would be too late for the girl. Now that she’s put the ring on, she’s forever altered her state of being.”
“What do you mean? When the ring was taken from Joan, she could no longer see me,” Kalev said.
“True enough, but not the whole truth. The bearer might lose the ability to interact with the celestial world, but something about her makeup is fundamentally changed. She will always be vulnerable to demonic attack.” Orfiel’s eyes had rolled back again.
“I was the Guardian of that family line for centuries. Why was I was never informed?”
Orfiel shrugged, not bothering to turn his eyes forward. “You never needed to know.”
God, what had he done? How could he have been so selfish? So foolish? He’d doomed Grace to be hunted for the rest of her life, only for a chance at a promotion. Promotion? He didn’t even deserve his current position. What he had done was nothing short of avarice, and Grace would pay the price.
He couldn’t let himself dwell on it. He would have plenty of time for that after he left the chamber. For now, he needed to do what he could to ensure Grace’s protection. In the momentary silence, an alternate solution came to him.
“We at least need to tell her enough information so that we can easily post a Guardian with her at all times.”
“That is out of the question. The rules clearly state: no human shall be made explicitly aware of the existence of angels unless the Word dictates they be visited by a Messenger.” Aniela, the only female on the Council, made other angels seem lackadaisical about rules. While she had pointed her finger to the exact one her large book, he had no doubt that she could recite all of them, in order, from memory.
“But she needs a Guardian,” Kalev insisted.
“And I suppose you think you should be her Guardian. Is that it?” Azriel raised an exaggerated eyebrow.
Azriel always seemed to know just what to say to make Kalev want to punch him in the face. It only irritated him further that Azriel had just voiced his original plan. Unfortunately, he couldn’t express his anger.
“As you are well aware, Azriel, I am no longer a Guardian.”
Azriel gave a smug smile.
“Is this not the very same girl that caused you to lose that position?” Aniela asked. As she’d only been appointed five years prior, she hadn’t been at his tribunal.
“It is.”
“I see.” She began flipping through her rule book again. He could hardly imagine what she was searching for. He doubted there was precedent for the current situation.
“Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?” Azriel said to no one in particular, but the implication was clear.
Kalev hoped he didn’t look too guilty—he certainly felt it. Thankfully, none of the other Council members picked up that particular line of inquiry. Either they believed Kalev’s story or they were willing to overlook the issue in the face of such a potentially hazardous situation.
“I agree. The girl needs protection,” Hadriel said, breaking the silence.
One of Orfiel’s eyes swiveled forward. “We have traditionally provided a Guardian in circumstances similar to this.”
“Dobiel?” Azriel said.
He was glancing up at the ceiling, his head supported by his hand. The black surma he wore around his eyes made them appear luminescent. “Regardless of the girl’s welfare, we cannot risk the ring falling into the wrong hands. I would be willing to serve as her Guardian, as long as my place on the Council would be reserved when my service was complete.”
Kalev’s jaw dropped. Dobiel had served on the Council since he left his role as Guardian of Persia in 330 B.C. The situation was dire indeed, if he was willing to serve as a Guardian to one woman.
“Interesting proposition,” Azriel said. “Does anyone on this Council object to Dobiel taking this mission?”
Both Hadriel and Orfiel shook their heads. They all turned to Aniela. Kalev couldn’t have hoped for a better choice for a Guardian and wondered why Aniela was still reading her book instead of agreeing.
“As much as I might be inclined to agree with you all, the law here is quite explicit. Article 9, Section 5, Paragraph 3 of the Angelic Code of Conduct clearly states that any Guardian assigned to a sacred relic must serve as Guardian of the sacred relic until such time as it is seen fit to remove the sacred relic from the realm of
the living, or the relic is inactive. A replacement Guardian is forbidden unless the assigned Guardian no longer has his or her powers or has been eviscerated. Should an inactive relic be reactivated for any reason, the original Guardian must return to duty.”
Kalev’s skin prickled at the pronouncement. Did that mean—
“This is preposterous! He’s not even a Guardian anymore!” Azriel slammed his fist on the table.
“Just because he is not serving in that capacity currently, does not mean he is incapable of doing so,” Aniela replied. Her cool, even voice stood in stark contrast to Azriel’s red hot temper.
“If it is in the rules, Azriel, it is in the rules. We must obey them,” Orfiel said.
“Besides,” Hadriel said, “the girl has already met Kalev. She will not be as suspicious of him as she might be of another stranger.”
The muscle at the side of Azriel’s mouth twitched. “Alright. You’ve made your point.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Did you hear that, Kalev? Looks like you’re wish has come true.”
Kalev tried to remain expressionless as he bowed his head. “I appreciate the opportunity that the Council has so judiciously bestowed upon me.”
“This isn’t like a normal mission. Her involvement in our world was a mistake, not by design. The Word has not dictated that she be in any way indoctrinated in our secrets. You will not tell her about us, demons, the realities of the universe, none of it. Do I make myself clear?” Azriel glared.
“Angels fine, but demons? Really? What am I supposed to tell her—she was attacked by a chupacabra?”
Hadiel snorted behind his hand and the corner of Aniela’s mouth lifted, but Azriel remained serious.
“If that’s what you think she’ll believe. But I will not sanction the release of any information.”
Kalev waited for any of the other members of the council to express their dissent, but they remained silent. Great. But there was nothing else to be done. He’d just have to deal with it. “I understand,” he said.
“You are dismissed,” Azriel said.
“May His blessings be upon you.” Kalev nodded to the Council members and left the chamber.
Well that meeting certainly hadn’t gone how’d he expected it to. He’d ended up getting his Guardianship back temporarily, but at what cost? Protecting Grace for the foreseeable future was going to be hard enough, but not telling her about demons? Impossible. There was no way. The Council didn’t know a damn thing about Grace, but he did. She wasn’t stupid. It was only a matter of time before she figured it out.
✽✽✽
Grace sat in her apartment, stunned and confused. What on earth had just happened to her? One second, she’d been lost in a mental replay of her terrible date and the next she’d been assaulted by a … well, she wasn’t sure. What had it been? No creature she recognized, that was certain. She was pretty sure she’d remember seeing an enraged Gollum-come-to-life. And the smell. It had been the most overwhelmingly awful thing she’d ever had the displeasure of inhaling. It was burning, and death, and horror all wrapped into one. She never wanted to experience it again, but the mere thought of it brought the horrific sensation back to her. She needed to stop reliving the assault in her head and focus on something else.
The tall, lean figure of her rescuer came to mind. Followed swiftly by his bizarre departure. She sighed and stood up to head to the medicine cabinet. He’d probably been caught up in the moment, enjoying playing the hero, and then realized he didn’t actually want to talk to her again, and that trying to kiss her had been a terrible mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend. Or a wife. “Grace, you’re an idiot,” she whispered to herself. She began vigorously scrubbing the dirt from her hands.
It wasn’t like she needed any kind of commitment right now anyway. She was sure she’d just narrowly avoided another Steve. She was in the middle of the process of figuring her own life out and healing old wounds. A man would only complicate matters, right? But the presence of a man had never set her heart to racing or her limbs to shaking before.
Then again, maybe it’d just been the adrenaline. That made the most sense. She’d been in shock. If she saw him again, she was sure it wouldn’t feel the same. It’d been a fluke. But every time she pictured him leaning in close to her, a pool of heat swirled low in her stomach. Trying to ignore it, she began gently washing out the cuts on her face, arms, legs, and still-frozen feet. How she was going to cover all this up for work on Monday, she had no idea.
In the meantime, she wanted answers. Caleb had evaded all her questions, and his ‘promise’ to tell her later was not looking very promising. She guessed she’d never see him again. He was probably hoping that she’d decide the monster was an illusion. After all, who in their right mind would believe her? If she told anyone they’d think she was crazy.
And then it hit her—maybe she was. This is exactly what a crazy person would think, wasn’t it? If someone approached her with this story, she’d refer them directly to a shrink. Doubt started to flood her mind. How much of it had been real? All of it? Some of it? None of it? Had she been attacked and so traumatized that she’d transformed her attacker into a horrific beast? Had her rescuer even existed? Wouldn’t he have taken her to the cops or a hospital or something? She had asked him to walk her home instead of going to emergency care, but no cops? Maybe he had been a cop and he’d only become this Caleb hero in her delusion.
“This is it, Gracie,” she said to herself. She sunk her head into her hands. “After all you’ve been through, you’ve finally cracked.”
She walked into her bedroom, collapsed on the bed, and curled into a ball. Maybe things would be clearer tomorrow. Sleep had always helped clarify things. Night made all situations seem more helpless than they were. Maybe tomorrow she would wake up and remember what really happened. And if not, she thought darkly, she would call a therapist before she was too far gone to realize she needed one.
Chapter 4
Her sleep had been interrupted at best. Every time she’d closed her eyes, it had been there, teeth gnashing, eyes burning, claws grabbing. She’d tossed and turned until the cool sun’s rays had shone brightly through the window, the drapery too sheer to keep the insistent light out of the room past sunrise. She’d given up her fight then—it would be better to freshen up and brew some coffee than to flop around her bed like a goldfish out of its bowl.
She settled into the couch, clutching her steaming mug close to her body. She didn’t want to think about last night but it was impossible not to. Her hopes that sleep would help clarify her memories had been unrealized. If anything, the details had only sharpened as the night went on. Now she could envision the small fissures in the flaky grey skin, and the crimson veins that were so thickly entangled across the creature’s eyes they’d glowed red in the darkness.
Was her mind deteriorating so quickly that it had been adding details all night long, or had her sleep been just good enough to make things clearer? Either way, her situation was troubling at best. She only had two choices—either she was going crazy or she’d been attacked by a monster. And she ventured there was only one person on this earth who knew which of the two it was. Too bad she had no idea how to contact him.
Eager to distract herself, Grace turned on the television. She usually went for a long run on Saturday mornings and had therefore forgotten the lack of quality programming available. Station after station had infomercials. A 5-step cream solution to all your skin problems, click. A treadmill that folded into a rowing erg, click. Lindsey Carrol’s Weight Loss Miracle program, click. An indestructible copper pan, well that could be usef—no, no Gracie. Click. Call it quits before you buy something you don’t need and cant afford, she thought. But before she hit the power button, the new programming caught her attention. It wasn’t an infomercial, but a preacher evangelizing the word of God.
“Y’all out there, at home, suffering, crying, battling your own demons. You can find healing in the power of Jesus Christ!” He raised his hands
and looked upward.
Demons. Could it be? Grace jumped up from the couch with an energy she didn’t know she had. If she’d had even an hour of solid sleep, Grace wasn’t sure she’d have entertained the notion of demons, but at this point, she couldn’t help herself. It only took a quick internet search for her to find it. There it was, its hollow, red eyes; pale grey skin; long, spindly fingers. The painting clearly captured it. A ‘daeva’ – a demonic underling with the temperament of a wolverine. “Hoooolly sh-”
Dingdong. Grace’s head jerked up. The doorbell? Who the heck would be at her door at the crack of dawn on a Saturday? She checked her phone. No messages. Hmmmm. She cautiously pressed the intercom button.
“May I ask who this is?”
The voice on the other end set her heart racing before her conscious brain even registered who it was. “It’s Caleb, from the park last night. I just wanted to check on you and to apologize for my, um,” he paused, “abrupt departure.”
Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. “Why don’t you come up.” God, she wished she’d chosen to shower before having her coffee. She was a bedraggled mess. Not that it mattered, of course. All she was interested in were answers, and her golden opportunity had literally just arrived on her doorstep.
Grace was already waiting by the door when she heard his soft knock. Deep breath, Gracie, keep it cool. She opened the door.
“Hey,” she said.
“How are you?” He looked her over from head to toe, concern flashing across his features. “You have more bruises than I expected.”
Guardian Page 4
