Archangel of the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  “Headache?” Brian asked. “Now that’s what I call a wardrobe malfunction.”

  The sly smirk from the driver uncalled for, Sabree massaged his temples. Fingertips felt ice cold against his feverish brow. What trickery made him visualize such deceptions? Minutes ago, unlike the original memory, the evening’s events had changed, especially after the Duke snubbed him, envious of the coveted wig. Sabree shot a stolen glance at the driver.

  The Audi pulled into the long drive, security gates closing behind them. After Brian parked, he got out and leaned against the roof of the car. “Be nice to my sister.”

  “I am always pleasant to the fairer sex, ghoul or not.”

  “That’s not what I heard. I’ll make sure you will regret haunting her last night.”

  Sabree paused halfway up the porch steps to what sounded like a threat. No ghoul lived another day after spewing such nonsense. This one would surely suffer by his hand. Oui, by my fangs.

  11

  Archangel of the Fallen

  A riane pulled the door open and frowned when she came face-to-face with me and my unexpected guest. Whenever Sabree was around my sister’s mind read like an open book. His too. Neither one sensed the intrusion my mind rendered on their private thoughts. Oh no, Sis, here we go again.

  As she studied Sabree, she found him quite attractive yet hauntingly familiar. “I know you,” she whispered telepathically to no one in particular, inexperience her undoing. Her glance darted to me, to Sabree, and then back to me. She smiled sweetly almost gritting her teeth as her thoughts rang out. “Oh my God, he’s the albino from the bar. Brian’s ghost. My ghost.”

  My sister had no idea her telepathic voice trumpeted for all to hear. Sabree also read her inner comments by the way his mouth twitched in a slight smile.

  Behind us, my son the butler grunted in disgust. “Pardon. It’s my duty to answer the door.”

  Ariane glanced his way and offered an apologetic shrug as she backed up to let us enter. Sabree seemed a bit pushy for a pretend guest, rushing in before me. Guess he expected reverence on account of his extended age and superiority. To accommodate the pompous ass, I gave him a wee push to send him on his way.

  Because of the shove, he missed seeing the twitch of my sister’s hand as she fought the urge to slap him aside. Just as briefly, a scowl marred her features. On cue, her inner thoughts blasted us all, including my son. “How dare you knock my brother unconscious with chloroform just to harass me.” She plastered a tight-lipped smile to make us think she had no idea he was the ghost. “Who do we have the pleasure of meeting?” she asked aloud. Her heart thumped against her breastbone.

  “Mr. Sabree,” I said in a mischievous tone. I winked her way as soon as Sabree glanced at the ceiling, somewhat disturbed by her telepathic insult. Come post Halloween, I had better teach her how to shroud her thoughts from minds stronger than her own. “A friend from the university.” I looked to Sabree. “My sister, Ariane. And our assistant butler, Azrian.”

  Ariane wore the same frozen smile as she extended a hand, expecting him to shake it.

  His fingers gently enveloped hers as his lips brushed the top of her hand. “Bonsoir, Ariane Rose,” Sabree murmured in a guttural tone.

  The chill that swept over her, centralizing in her belly almost made me shutdown the telepathic eavesdropping. A jolt shot through my own gut when she yanked her hand away from his. She rubbed both hands on her jeans the second he turned to nod at the butler.

  “He’ll be staying with us.” I said to Azrian. “I’ll see our guest to his room.”

  Ariane mouthed, “Seriously?” My simple shrug raised her temperature up a notch.

  I addressed Sabree next. “Follow me.”

  “Don’t trust the butler to do his job?” Sabree winked at Ariane and followed me up the staircase.

  “Don’t trust you,” I muttered under my breath.

  Below my sister’s mind raced as openly as ever. “What did Brian mean by that remark? Doesn’t he realize Sabree’s the ghost. Why invite the creep to stay with us?” She obviously had reason enough to worry, reason enough to call Eric.

  I waved Sabree to move on and paused at the top of the stairway. Sure enough, her whispered curses were directed at me for erasing Eric’s name from her contact list. She punched the number from memory. After one ring, a recorded voice announced the line was no longer in service.

  “Damn him,” she said.

  Sorry, Sis. Not really. Taking Eric out of the equation benefitted the do-over. Benefitted my sister. I caught up with Sabree when his impatience hit my mind like a demolition ball. “This is your room. Decorate it any way you like, because you won’t have any say in the rest of the house. That’s Ariane’s territory.”

  “Oui, she already trashed a magnificent Ming vase.”

  My brows disappeared under the hair swept across my forehead. A one-sided smirked expressed amusement. “I hear you had something to do with that.”

  “No matter. Do you really expect me to stay?” Sabree glanced inside, rolled his neck, and shrugged approval. “I can work with this. Merci beaucoup, mon ami.”

  “Save the hoity-toity French act for Ariane.”

  “We still need to talk.”

  “Fine.” I entered the room before him and stopped. A click of the door lock announced Sabree sought to regain control. Again, mission accomplished. I spun around, my eyes widening with fear. Not fear, amusement; however, Sabree need not know which emotion was meant for him.

  “I’m going to drink your blood so no one else can control you.”

  This BS again. My laughter stifled, I shook my head. “Whoa, bite me? Down, Fang.” The muted laughter, barely suppressed, inflamed his feverish headache. No need to read minds, the heat he radiated rushed me from across the bedroom.

  Sabree lashed out, grabbed me by the arm, and twisted me across the bed. “What did you call me?” he snarled. “I am the master; you are the lowly ghoul. You will survive only as long as I see reason for your existence.” He squeezed my shoulders, pinching the meaty part of the trapezoid muscle. His thumbs pressed firmly against the tender flesh, applying a form of Chin Na.

  All thirty-three resets replayed in my mind at once. This aggression led to the usual bout between me and Sabree. Let him drink my blood or not. This do-over declared not. I twisted free with ease. “None of that.”

  My stubbornness drew Sabree into a distant memory. I followed along as he dwelled on the years of disciplined training with Buddhist monks at a Tibetan monastery. The lessons took him years to perfect the technique to lock joints, pinch nerves, and suffocate veins. Despite the mindful instructions, self-control and discipline melted away as a new memory hijacked the original. Yours truly.

  A familiar sensation similar to the one Sabree experienced in the Audi, jolted his mind. His eyes involuntarily reddened and snapped open. He sat cross-legged in meditation. His gaze drifted to me disguised as a newcomer seated beside him. I lowered the phony hood and winked from behind blue goggles. “It’s me Sabree. Again.” Then I vanished as if only a bad dream had occurred. No dream. Without a doubt it happened, but as a new path in time that branched off from the original.

  Moaning, Sabree clutched his skull. His head spun from the headache that ripened into a migraine. He rubbed his temples as he remembered the scandalous stunt of leaping to his feet, disturbing the other monks when I stuck out my tongue and vanished. His master punished him for the ruckus. “This had never happened before. Not in this way.”

  “Need some ibuprofen?” I shook the bottle that miraculously appeared in my hand. In actuality, I had zipped into the bathroom to fetch it and dashed back in the wink of an eye. “Looks like you’re suffering from another headache.”

  “More tricks.” By the redness that washed his cheeks, Sabree’s blood must have boiled. “How?”

  “Like this.”

  A finger snapped next to his ear. The sharp sound woke him from a nap. Seated in front of a computer, its screen dark,
he straightened his back and glanced around the Caderen records room. “Merde,” he said aloud. “What was that password.”

  “Hermes,” my familiar voice whispered.

  Sabree whipped around and scrambled to his feet. “How do you manipulate my—” Before he could finish, I vanished again. Like before, after the memory changeover, nothing was as it had been. The visual faded. Sabree stood in the Colton estate, in his so-called room. He backed against the door, his eyes wide as he stared at me. “Who are you?”

  “Brian, son of Turian, Julia, and Athorsis. Exterminator of Malakhim. Father of Azrian. And not in that particular order. I am the archangel of the Fallen. I travel time as well as the portal universes. But foremost, I am your friend, your cousin.”

  Not the answer he expected, Sabree flipped the lock and stepped aside to let the door swing open. “Forgot one. You’re full of it.”

  “Aye, that too. Sweet dreams.” Instead of returning to my bedroom, I went downstairs into the office. The adrenaline of meeting Sabree tonight surged through my veins, wound me up like a spring. Altering time and his memories even more so. Sleep would never come.

  Poor Sabree. Had I gone too far? Maybe a wee bit. If nothing else, I scrambled his brain cells rather than jogged his memory. Served him a main course of A-factor to prepare him for the humdinger of a reveal. My true self. The rush of blood in my skull pounded so loud, I didn’t hear Ariane walk in.

  “What’s going on? Who put you in charge? I never agreed to the ghost moving in.”

  I jumped and almost knocked over the strange paperweight someone had left on the desk. My desk. “Bloody hell, Sis, you scared the crap out of me.”

  “You do that to me all the time.”

  As my fingers fondled the solid globe, they tingled from the eerily glossy finish. Inside the hand-blown glass, purple and green swirls mimicked a thistle. “From you?”

  “No. Maybe the butler put it there. Looks kind of lost all by itself.”

  “It’s late. What do you want?” Wrong question. Her mind splattered my own with reasons why her emotions were about to spill over. They all boiled down to Sabree. The deepening hue of her peach-colored cheeks matched her bathrobe. “Sorry. I asked him to move in for a reason. Right now, he’s enemy number one and I prefer to keep my enemies within sight.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Then why fire Eric? Why not keep him around?” Frustrated, her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk. “You’re freaking me out. I tried to call him. His line is no longer in service.” Her lower lip trembled. “Did you have something to do with that?”

  “I destroyed his phone and warned him to get a new number or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  My lips curled into a crooked smile. Enough about Eric, his horny ass tossed out of the picture forevermore. “Jesse’s flight arrives tomorrow. He’s one of the good guys. Talk to him instead.”

  Her hand squeezed the globe, unable to make up her mind whether to throw it at me or at the wall. Instead she slapped the desk with her free hand. “I don’t understand.” Her fiery gaze pierced through me. “Jesse would never agree to move. What about his grandfather?”

  “Gray Wolf is welcome anytime.” Her genuine thoughts of how she wished I’d disappear blasted my mind whether I wanted to hear them or not. My hand squeezed hers to convince her to release the globe. “Your exhausted. Go to bed.”

  “Really, Brian? You want me to sleep next door to the albino’s room.”

  “His name is Sabree. And he’s not an albino, not a ghost either.” I stood and hooked an arm into her elbow and led her to the door. “I’ll be up in a minute, if it will make you feel any better.”

  Her eyes rolled. “Thanks, I will definitely sleep like a baby now.” Before Ariane slammed the office door, she snapped, “Not!”

  A shiver rippled up my spine. All right, so Sis detested the way I handled us moving into the mansion, dismissing Eric, and asking Sabree to take his place. But give her time and a thorough explanation, she’d come around soon enough. I sat down and leaned into the aged leather. My unfocused gaze settled on the odd paperweight placed all by itself, the rest of the desktop bare. Maybe after Halloween night, I’d stockpile the desk with personal effects. Lamp, laptop, whatever.

  The whisper of a breeze tickled the hairs on the back of my neck until they stood on end. My imagination conjured a spider hatching thousands of babies that crawled all over me. The creepy thought shot through me as a warning. My built-in radar served me well. I spun the chair around to face Sabree. “Can I help you?” The gleam in his eyes revealed disbelief.

  “I rarely sleep, never mind in a stranger’s house.”

  Silent laughter rumbled my gut. First my sister, now Sabree. “Then mist somewhere safe. No one’s making you stay.”

  He rolled his neck ever so slowly until his gaze locked with mine. “I fear no man, no ghoul.”

  “No ghouls here, no humans either, except for the help.” I held off telling him about Jesse. No need to overwhelm the poor lad. “I’m heading off to bed soon if that will help.”

  “How? How could that possibly make me sleep easier.” On his way out, exiting the door instead of misting, Sabree huffed a raucous curse to make his dismay known.

  Laughter rolled through my belly. Sabree always knew how to cheer me up, intentionally or not. Then the grandfather clock chimed. My high spirits took a back seat and I swallowed hard after the twelfth toll. Bloody midnight. Halloween morning had arrived. Time to party.

  12

  Fright Night

  H alloween. Fright Night. The evening of October 31 preceding All Saints’ Day. The nocturnal brouhaha observed for displaying goblins and ghouls, dressing up in costumes, and trick-or-treating. In our case, all three would be observed, maybe even celebrated. Once this paranormal night passed, my do-over could resume. Too much relied on tonight’s smooth sailing into tomorrow.

  All through the wee hours of the morning, up to a few minutes ago, my one and only strategy consumed all else. No sleep, meals, or peace. No other tactic came to mind or seemed remotely feasible. So long as Azrian got to meet his mum, my son didn’t care what I had plotted for the night.

  Resigned to whatever the outcome, sound or flawed, I dressed into the Scottish warrior costume. The chilly night called for a pair of black leggings taken from the spelunker compartment of past-Brian’s suitcase. The calf-length boots went on last. Off the mirrored reflection, a flash sparked behind me. I didn’t bother to turn around, the omen nothing but a premonition of things to come, including Athorsis’s or my demise.

  The final touches came next. Kneading fingers mussed up the locks forever unruly. Then I dipped a finger in black powder and smeared it under one eye, directly across my nose to under the other eye. Scary and sexy all at once. “Aye, Brian, you’re a beast.” I extended my fangs and flashed a seductive smile. “Eat your heart out, Edward.”

  My son said he’d meet us downstairs, so I left to see if Ariane was ready and knocked on her door.

  “Come in.”

  Cautious when it came to my sister’s bedroom, I peered inside first. “Wow!” A whistle of approval followed.

  “Isn’t this gown gorgeous.” Ariane spun around in place. “I love what you picked out.”

  “Not too shabby.” I admired the total package my sister fashioned, the gown and veil more authentic than expected. The tawny velveteen and rich creamy satin fabrics glistened under the chandelier as she twirled. The tight bodice accentuated her waist and lifted her small bosom. My wandering gaze quickly diverted to the crown and tulle veil. “Queen of the ball.”

  She paused in mid-twirl and eyed my costume. Her brows wiggled up and down. “You’ll certainly attract attention. Pretty hot.”

  Coming from anyone else but my sister, I’d welcome the compliment. My shoulders slumped. “Gee, thanks.” Then I pulled on each end of the kilt and curtseyed. “This Scottish warrior is marching into battle. Look out Wayde and Chambers.”

  All
giggles, Ariane sashayed to the dresser and back. “Help me put this on.” She jiggled a pearl necklace in my face and let it drop into my open palm.

  Both hands started to shake when I tried to attach the clasp. My gut churned. The red spot on the back of her neck flashed like a radioactive hazard sign. I hooked the pearls and backed away. How could this be? Ariane had not morphed yet. Sam never gave her the spot. But it stood out in all its neon forewarning as if to shout the time travel did not change everything. “Bugger.”

  “What?”

  “Just remembered something.” I marched to the door and paused. “Meet me downstairs.” Outside her room, I leaned against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut. I pressed both palms against my forehead, ice cold, calming the feverish woes. What did the red spot mean? Ariane’s spider friend, Sam, had given it to her as a farewell gift. But it never happened. Not yet anyway. My gray matter performed its usual dance to come up with a logical explanation. The extra effort worked its magic.

  The Teachers rehabilitated her for ten years on a mock planet in the Lighted Realm where all dimensions and times existed simultaneously. Within its boundaries, Athorsis boasted how he could see the beginning, everything in between, and the end of all times at once. Which meant he should know how the conflict between us ended. The answer had to be the Lighted Realm. Because the gift was given to her there, did that mean the spot would always be on my sister whether in the past or future? Made sense.

  Although dressed for battle, cowardice hijacked my bravado as I tried to melt into the wall, remain hidden for the duration of the night. No such luck, the do-over must persevere. Suck it up, Brian. Endure one day at a time starting with All Hallows’ Eve.

  When Ariane opened her bedroom door, I shot into hah-no-one-can-see-me speed and raced downstairs. Deadpool was on the couch checking his phone. I gave Azrian a thumbs-up.