Knight's Fall

by Angela Henry

  Police cars and ambulances had finally arrived on the scene, and the guardians faded away, disappearing into the crowd unnoticed by anyone but me. What the hell had I been thinking in coming here? How could I have thought my need for answers greater than a guardian’s need to save lives? None of them would have neglected a charge to talk to me. Nor should they have.

  I headed back down the side of the road and spotted a dark-haired man with a cross dangling from one ear wearing a long black coat and kneeling next to a woman lying beside her car. She had a wound on her forehead and was coughing up blood as the man stared down at her, watching her struggle to breathe. The man wasn’t in shock. He smiled and watched in rapt fascination as the woman breathed her last breath. Demons also show up at the scene of a tragedy to collect souls due to them. But this man wasn’t a demon. He was a guardian. He wouldn’t be at the site of this accident unless he had a charge that needed saving because his Book of Fates would have guided him here. But I’d just watched him let his charge die. And the surprising part was, I knew this guardian. We’d once been as close as brothers.

  “Alexi!” I screamed. Startled that he’d been seen, he stood and turned to me.

  Recognition registered on his face, then confusion, before settling into good old-fashioned hatred. I rushed over to check the woman’s pulse, but she was gone. So I closed her staring eyes and sadly watched as the glowing white orb of her spirit exited her chest. But instead of shooting upward, it floated around and settled back onto her chest, growing smaller until it was the size of a firefly. It hadn’t been this woman’s time to die, and until she got over the shock and made peace with the reality of her death, her soul would linger on earth, clinging to a life that was over. It could be a month or several lifetimes before it ascended to heaven, if it ascended to heaven. Bodiless earthbound souls were highly corruptible and could just as easily end up in hell.

  “What have you done?” I asked him through gritted teeth. But his only response was to kick me in the face.

  The heel of his boot connected with my nose in a sickening crunch. Alexi was in full guardian mode, and as such, his kick sent me flying a good fifty feet. I landed on my back and skidded on the grass. Luckily, the angel blood still coursing through my veins healed my broken nose before it even had a chance to bleed. I stood up, only to be tackled back to the ground with my former best friend’s hands around my throat.

  “Still sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Xavier? Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” Alexi lifted me effortlessly over his head and threw me another thirty feet into the trunk of a large tree, breaking my back.

  I landed in a heap of pain on the ground, and by the time Alexi reached me to inflict more damage, I had healed and jumped to my feet again. This wasn’t a level playing field. Alexi’s strength was far greater than mine, even with the angel blood. I wondered how long it would take before I stopped healing and Alexi killed me. I’d already noticed a lag in how long it had taken my backbone to heal. It’s a damned good thing that there was more to having angel powers than spontaneous healing. He charged at me, but this time I ran forward at lightning speed, as if to meet him halfway, and instead leapt high into the air, landing behind him and driving a fist into his spine before he could turn around. The force of my blow sent him to his knees.

  “What’s wrong with you? How could you just watch that woman die? Why didn’t you save her?”

  “Sorry,” Alexi said with a laugh as he got to his feet and faced me. “Letting charges die is supposed to be your thing, right? Or is it fucking mortal women? Which one is it, Xavier, because I gotta admit, I’m kinda confused.”

  “Yeah, I seem to remember feeling that way, too, when you sold me out to St. Peter. Apparently five hundred years of friendship didn’t mean dick to you, did it?” Alexi had been the one to blow the whistle on my affair with Ava. He’d also led the team that had arrested me that night in her bedroom.

  “In the end you were just like all the other arrogant fuckups who thought the rules didn’t apply to them. You think you’re the only guardian who ever fell in love?” he sneered.

  I was floored.

  “So this was about Tatiana? That’s why you turned me in?”

  “Why should you get to be with the woman you loved when the woman I loved had to die? I never got to touch her! I never got to hold her, let alone make love to her! What makes you so fucking special?” He slammed his fist in my face.

  His answer hit me harder than he had. Why hadn’t I realized it before? Alexi had been Grand Duchess Tatiana Romanov’s guardian. He’d prevented her from tripping down a flight of stairs and breaking her neck when the heel of one of her shoes got caught in the hem of her long dress. Once his job was done, he moved on to another charge, as he should have. But when the news of the slaughter of the Romanov family reached heaven, Alexi had been hit hard. The fact that they could never be together was bad enough, but he could endure it as long as he knew she was happy. That she died such a horrible death only a year after he’d saved her almost drove him crazy.

  Basically he’d been charged with saving her from that fall, not because she was meant to live, but because fate had dictated that she die with her family. And what had I done to help my friend? Nothing. I’d told him to get his shit together and do his job and only his job. A guardian is not supposed to fall in love. We weren’t supposed to have feelings. How could I have forgotten that? He punched me again and I didn’t try to stop him. He pummeled me and I let him. Taking blow after blow until Alexi was tired and breathing heavily and his sweat dripped in my face and on my shirt. The pain from the cuts and bruises he rained upon my face and torso, followed by a warm tingling sensation as they healed one after the other.

  Then a flash of gold caught my eye. A marble skeleton key on a gold chain as thin and fine as a strand of hair swung out from beneath his black shirt. And suddenly the chance to get the answers I needed was dangling in my face. Much as I hated seeing Alexi in so much pain, I couldn’t do anything for him. I tried to explain things to him in a letter before I got clipped. I don’t even know if he read it. Even if he did, nothing I could say would make him feel any better. Was I a crap friend to him? Probably. Did I turn my back on him all those years ago when he needed me? Definitely. But I couldn’t change it now, and in purposefully letting a charge die, he’d become someone I no longer knew or wanted to know.

  “Sorry, buddy. But I don’t have time for your issues.”

  I grabbed the key around his neck and yanked hard. Searing, white light blinded me, and when I could see again, I found myself on a walkway lying at the bottom of a marble staircase in the sky surrounded by clouds. I got up and looked down onto a series of multileveled walkways leading up to numerous staircases that wound their way up into the clouds. All of the staircases were different. There were straight, spiral, double, freestanding, and circular staircases, and they were made of everything from wood, marble, steel, and glass, to brass. Alexi’s key was warm in my hand and I smiled. I never thought I’d see this place again. I hurried up the steps to the large golden door at the top and inserted the key into the lock. I heard a soft click and pushed the door open, then took a deep breath and walked into the Archive of Humanity.

  FIFTEEN

  “May I ask why you’re looking for this Victor Buchard?” Langdon Grace asked Desi as they stepped off the elevator onto the fifth floor. She followed him as he strolled down the hall, not sure where he was taking her.

  “Only if you’re willing to admit he works here,” replied Desi.

  Grace laughed.

  It was a laugh meant to show he was amused. But Desi knew a forced laugh when she heard it. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. Desi could have just flashed her EA badge and claimed to be with the police, but he’d have just had security boot her out on her ass until she got a warrant, and then hid behind his legal team.

  “Well, can you at least tell me if he’s in some kind of trouble? I’d hate to think Necropol
is could be adversely affected by association.”

  “If he never worked here, then you have nothing to worry about, right?” Desi started to smile, realizing that she’d catch more flies with honey. But flies liked shit, too. And she was much better at giving people that.

  “I beg to differ, Ms . . .?”

  “West. Desiree West.”

  “I beg to differ, Ms. West. Necropolis is about to release a new antidepressant onto the market, and the last thing we need is any negative publicity. I’ll have to insist you tell me what this is all about.”

  Desi felt a momentary feeling of panic hearing this. A new antidepressant going on the market at virtually the same time as the EA discovered a supernatural drug called NeCro? Add Vic Buchard and his creepy brother, Zander, to the mix, and all roads led straight to Necropolis Pharmaceuticals. But that still didn’t explain why.

  “Fine, Dr. Grace,” began Desi. “I’m a private investigator hired by Victor’s mother, Ruth Buchard. She hasn’t seen or heard from her son in a month, and the last she’d heard, he’d been hired on here as a researcher, a fact that was backed up by that LSU alumni announcement I showed your receptionist.”

  “I suspect we’ll get some answers now.” Grace had stopped in front of a frosted glass door labeled Human Resources.

  Desi followed him inside up to a counter that looked a lot like the receptionist’s desk in the lobby. The older heavyset woman manning the desk looked surprised to see them.

  “Liz, could you do me a favor and please check to see if we’ve ever employed a man named Victor Buchard?”

  “That name does ring a bell, but I can’t remember why,” said Liz. She got up and walked to a door at the back of the room and opened it. Inside was a bank of stainless filing cabinets. She disappeared into the room, careful to close the door behind her. Thirty seconds later she was back, carrying a single sheet of paper with a yellow sticky note on it.

  “Ah, yes, now I remember. Victor Buchard was offered an entry-level researcher position in our test lab six months ago. He accepted the position but never showed up for his first day of work. We tried contacting him for a few days, but when we couldn’t get in touch with him, we rescinded the offer and hired our second choice.”

  “There you have it, Ms. West. Seems we were both right.” Grace laughed the same phony laugh. “Now, unless you have any more questions of me, I’m late for a marketing meeting.”

  Grace turned on his heel and left before Desi had a chance to ask him anything. And she wasn’t satisfied at all with this information. As recently as a month ago, Ruth Buchard thought her son worked at Necropolis Pharmaceuticals. She even had a notepad with their logo on it in her room. Desi supposed he could have picked the notepad up when he came for his interview, but six months was a long time to lie about where you worked. Then Desi remembered what else Ruth had told her: Zander claimed he’d been responsible for getting Vic the researcher position. But if that were true, how did he pull it off?

  “Can I see Mr. Buchard’s employee file?”

  “Since he never actually worked here, he doesn’t have a file, just a note on his application. And if he did, it would be against the law to show it to you. I’m sorry.” And Liz really did look sorry.

  “That’s okay. Thanks for your help.” Desi noticed that her office keycard was sitting next to her coffee mug. “You know, I’m really surprised you still have his application.”

  “We keep all applications for a year before recycling. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” Liz smiled brightly. But there was something odd about her smile.

  “No. I’m good. Have a nice day.”

  Desi turned to go just as Liz went to put the file away, and she’d barely taken a step before Desi quickly reached over the counter, snatched up the keycard, and beat it out the door. Instead of the elevator, she ducked into the nearby stairwell and looked again at the info Miriam had sent her on Necropolis Pharmaceuticals, which was basically a rehash of their website. She was specifically looking at the info on Dr. Langdon Grace. There wasn’t much there by way of verifiable facts. Nowhere did it say where Grace had been born or graduated from college, let alone whether or not he was a medical doctor or had a PhD. At the sound of a door opening out in the hallway, Desi peeked out of the stairwell to see Liz buzzing for the elevator. And the second the elevator’s door closed behind her, Desi was out of the stairwell tugging on the door to human resources. But it was locked and the office was dark.

  She looked around to make sure no one was watching before sliding the stolen keycard in and out of the slot above the door handle. A dot flashed green, and she quickly opened the door and went in. She couldn’t see very well but didn’t dare turn the lights on or use the flashlight on her key fob. She felt along the counter until she got to the end and then almost fell over Liz’s chair as she fumbled around for the door to the file room. Once she found the door, she was inside in seconds and closed the door behind her and turned on the light. But when she opened the nearest drawer, it was empty. Confused, she tried another drawer. It, too, was empty. In fact, all the drawers were empty.

  “What the fuck?”

  The door to the file room opened, and Desi froze, too busted for words.

  “And you said there wasn’t anything else I could help you with,” drawled Liz, who stood in the door smiling. “You naughty girl. What am I going to do with you?”

  It finally hit Desi what was odd about Liz’s smile. It was too wide. The ends of her mouth extended halfway up either side of her face. Desi hadn’t noticed it right away because it had been partially hidden by the folds of the woman’s plump cheeks. She went for the gun in her ankle holster, but Liz’s thick, sticky, pale-pink tongue shot out of her mouth and across the small room, snatching the gun out of her hand like it was a fat grasshopper before she could squeeze the trigger. The sound of fabric tearing alerted Desi to the truth as she watched as a bony black ridge pop up on the woman’s back and her skin turn green as she burst out of her clothing and transformed into a very large lizard.

  “So, you’re a lizard shifter, huh?” Desi was unimpressed but relieved to be back in her element. “Here, lizard, lizard. I’ve got something for you.”

  She pulled out her EA badge, and Liz hissed and blinked her bulging, black eyes and flicked her tongue in irritation. Lizards were not fans of shiny things. Desi managed to back Liz away from the door just enough to get out of the file room, but getting out from behind the counter was going to be tricky as Liz was blocking her exit. So Desi did the only thing she could do. She ran and dived over the counter, then ran for the door. But Liz’s tongue was quicker. It shot out like a flash, hitting Desi in the back and slamming her so hard against the closed office door that she went right through the glass and hit the wall in the hallway. And was knocked out cold.

  SIXTEEN

  I would find my Book of Fates, all five of them, in the Archive of Fates. Each book covered one hundred years, and the previous books were archived. In fact, every event that had happened to every person on earth from their birth to their death to their rebirths and beyond was archived. The Archive of Fates was just one division of a much larger archive, that being the Archive of Humanity.

  Once I walked through the door, I headed down a short marble hallway with stark white walls until I came to a large circular area that branched off into a dozen different directions, each leading to a different archival collection. There was an archive for tears cried, smiles smiled, and laughs laughed, an archive of anger and sorrow, and another for childhood dreams, and secrets kept and secrets told. But the path I needed veered off to my left. It led to the Archive of Fates, housing just what the name implied, the fate of every person born, which was broken down into the Fixed Fate collection and the Variable Fates collection. Guardians worked for the Variable Fates collection because we could affect an outcome and change or save a person’s life. But unfortunately, not every life can be changed or saved. There are people whose fates are fixed, and
no matter how hard they try, their lives will end up the same way. Fortunately, a fixed fate is shed once a person dies.

  I could hear voices coming and rushed down the path to the large arched door of the Archive of Fates. The door sparkled with swirling shifting colors. If an angel working for the Fixed Fate collection inserted their key in the door, the color would change to a black and white checked pattern before opening and letting them into the Fixed Fate collection. But if an angel working for the Variable Fates collection inserted their key, the door would turn into a pattern of vertical stripes in shades of gray before opening and admitting them to the Variable Fates collection. I inserted Alexi’s key, and the door turned striped gray and swung open. I took one step inside and then promptly tripped over a cherub.

  Forget everything you thought you knew about cherubs. They aren’t chubby and adorable baby angels with tiny wings lounging on clouds and blowing trumpets or playing harps. Five hundred years as a guardian, and I could never figure out where that image came from. While their wings are smaller than other angels’, cherubs are short and stocky, with muscular arms and legs, made for labor and working long hours doing the jobs no one else wanted to do. Among many other things, they swept the walkways and staircases, polished the glut of marble and gold, kept the hinges oiled on all the doors, repaired any water damage caused by mist from the clouds, and kept all the items stored in the archives shelved and in order. Cherubs are the janitors of heaven. The cherub I tripped over had been crouched on the other side of the door and was now scowling down at me, with a screwdriver tucked behind one ear, as I lay on the floor.