Archangel of the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  Archangel

  of the

  Fallen

  Archangel

  of the

  Fallen

  Book Three of the Fallen Series

  Amongst the Fallen (Book One)

  Against the Fallen (Book Two)

  Devin Lee Carlson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Locales and public names offer atmospheric purposes only. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher:

  ColtonBooks.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Imprint: Independently Published

  Cover design by DLD Designs

  Shutterstock: Titima Ongkantong and Jurik Peter

  Daz Originals/Daz3D.com

  Text Copyright © 2019 Devin Lee Carlson

  Cover Copyright © 2019 DLD Designs

  All rights reserved

  ISBN-13: 9781673235319

  To Mom and Dad…

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my parents and spouse, whose support through the years of writing, revising, and editing encouraged me. They suffered through the numerous adaptations this book has evolved from beginning to end.

  To our beta readers, Tom Carlson and Stephanie Pray, whose helpful input fine-tuned the story.

  To Christmas break when 100 pages were written over the course of a few days.

  Part One

  1

  Hashtag Do-Over

  W hether crashing head-on into a brick wall or merging into my past self, the momentum always ravaged my innards with equal intensity. Well almost. Both robust, I almost tottered off the edge of the cliff and stifled a gasp when the scully cap flew off my head. Mustiness of damp wool wafted in the breeze as it flipped the cap over and over. The ability to speed up until all else was suspended in animation allowed me to detect the cap’s pause of a nanosecond. Then it fell 500 feet to the trail below.

  I pulled away from the ledge when a guy picked it up and waved it over his head. Take care of it, lad.

  Flashbacks of the first time the hat sailed into the wind flashed before me. Bugger. Had it been a sign of things to come? A premonition? Cold sweat dotted the back of my neck. The four-year jump back in time landed me on Salisbury Crags, the same day I hiked to rekindle lost memories. October 28 was the do-over date of my choosing, not Tim or Jesse’s. The manipulative archangel, Athorsis, also had no say. Outwitted, he did not get to reset my life for the thirty-fourth time. Should I consider this a triumph, one point for Team Brian? Aye, I’ll take it.

  Too many memories, mostly bittersweet, squeezed my throat. Those events would never happen, erased by my own hand. Seeking encouragement, my gaze skimmed over the city that filled my entire line of sight. Edinburgh Castle stood out as a black mound. In contrast to the devastating inferno witnessed seconds ago, prior to retrieving my son, early twilight had set in. Vibrant orange, turquoise, and lavender hues painted the sky. The prismatic splendor replaced the green wall of destruction that set the time travel in motion.

  Still shaken by the total annihilation, reeling from mixed emotions of grief, panic, and exhilaration of starting over, I squeezed my eyes shut and let the cool mist from the North Sea caress my fevered soul. I had just banished those dearest to me to a fiery hell. Deep friendships lost, forgiveness would never come.

  An exasperated sigh broke me from the scenic trance. Without realizing it, I had been squeezing my son’s hand since the time jump. A shudder ripped through me when he pulled away. Another lungful of sea mist mingled with fall wildflowers still in bloom breezed by us. The crags had always been my personal heaven. My ground zero.

  “Too bad about the ugly hat, Pop.” Azrian reached over to knock on my forehead. “Anyone home? We’re still in Edinburgh.” He shook his head at the city below. “We didn’t get very far.”

  “Farther than you think.” My teeth clenched in anticipation of the next question.

  “Where’s Aunt Ariane and Zoe? Uncle Sabree?”

  Disappointment shrouded the realm of near inner peace. Azrian had missed the entire point. Too bad he opened his mouth so soon. All I needed were a few more moments, a few more healing breaths.

  The dreadful explanation began with a sigh of my own. “Not where but when. Four years into the past. Ariane and Sabree stayed behind so we could start fresh. Best this way. We will soon meet their past counterparts.” The wetness in my son’s eyes reflected off the sunlight. Azrian managed to keep his emotions in check long enough to recall the recent discussion about time travel.

  “What about Zoe? Or my counterpart?”

  He pulled back when I tried to place a hand on his shoulder. The lad wasn’t thinking straight. Grief prevented cognizance. “Zoe might not be born this time around. I warned you that we were going back four years to a few nights before the Halloween party. To the night Azumi and I made love, made you. You can still meet your mother but mustn’t tell her who you are.”

  His young, inexperienced gaze settled on the castle. “Why won’t Zoe be born?” His teeth clenched until the cords in his neck stood out. “Will I? If you don’t make love to her, then won’t I cease to exist?”

  My hands clapped together. “No. And that’s the beauty of it. Whenever time is altered, it branches off, forms a new path, the one that you and I will walk together. You exist in the here and now.” I waved a hand to shush him. “The you who would’ve been conceived on Halloween, will not.” Weary fingers scratched my scalp as a rational explanation of the science came to mind. “The odds that the same you born three months from now are gazillion to one. If I orgasm one second too soon, or a few seconds too late, someone other than you would be conceived. Different sperm, different baby.”

  A chuckle slipped when Azrian coughed, “Ew gross.” One side of his lip curled up, confusion written across his face. “Aye, I know, not sure I understand what I just said myself.”

  “Why don’t I remember the thirty-three trial runs?”

  “You’re not the time traveler. Athorsis reset my life, not yours. In fact, of the thirty-three resets, there were times when you died at birth, no one rescued you from the DanJal, or you were born a girl. Zoeree was Zoree once or twice. A he.” The gears in my head ground to a halt. As effortless as picking fruit from a basket, my mind recalled a few more instances. It recalled all thirty-third trial runs at once as easy as searching Google for specific facts, dates, or events. Plucked any memory from each trial within seconds as if I had lived that lifetime just yesterday.

  “Pop? Are you okay?”

  Fingers kneaded through my hair, pulling on the strands. “Sorry, just a brain fart.” An explanation of a time-travel movie clicked. “It has something to do with the butterfly effect. One hesitation, blink of an eye, or an extra cup of coffee in the morning can alter the course of time. So, watch the caffeine.”

  “Then it’s pretty much the same for poor Zoe? Why didn’t we bring her with us?”

  Crap, Ariane and Sabree never told him about the guard who shot the cardinal, shot Zoe. I never mentioned it either, but for different reasons. “Zoe kept snooping around the complex. We warned her not to go but she refused to listen. She changed into a bird to escape too late. Abyss ordered a guard to shoot her down. The same guard also wounded your aunt.” My breath hitched on the final admission. “Zoeree died, Azrian.”


  “What? And no one cared enough to fill me in?” He jerked away from my touch, bent over, and covered his face with both hands. His sobs stifled, he stood tall and glared at me with darkening eyes. “Good thing we left them behind.”

  He didn’t mean it. Let him stew, grieve in his own way. “I should have told you, but we weren’t certain ourselves. Sabree kept hearing her voice, seeing her face inside inanimate objects.”

  “Still doesn’t matter. Ghost or poltergeist, we left her behind.” Azrian wiped away the wetness from his eyes and waved a hand over the cityscape. His breath heaved a final sigh. “So, this is when and where we start over. Hashtag do-over, Pop.”

  “Aye, my do-over to be exact. Without repeating past mistakes.” Arms crossed, I stared him down to stress the point. “Yours as well as mine.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t go near Farian.” His eyes glistened with renewed remorse. “Zoe didn’t trust my motives either. They shot her because of me and now she exists somewhere in limbo.”

  Along with the rest of us, my son refused to think of her as truly dead. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure there’s no Farian to go near. All of us were at fault. We should’ve left Zoe at the mansion.” Without looking his way, my gaze hovered on the inn where Ariane and I had stayed. The sudden recall made my stomach flip-flop. “Bugger. The mansion…”

  I planted both hands on his shoulders and held tight, so he couldn’t pull away. “Listen, we have a lot of work ahead of us. Number one on the list: fire Dougal and his motley crew. Get it right at the get-go.”

  On that thought, I spun around to descend the crags. The hike would help me think, help me compile a list of tasks that needed to be completed long before I introduced Ariane and Sabree to my son. Once my thoughts aligned into some semblance of order, I’d speed us to the mansion.

  “Wait. Where are we going?”

  Without turning, I waved Azrian to catch up. “Home,” I said. “Sabree and Ariane are never going to believe this—believe you. We’ll take it slow. Too many things to consider first.” The lump in my throat grew until too hard to swallow. Besides the ghostly visits, I had not yet formally met Sabree. This should be interesting.

  2

  Fall Back, Spring Ahead

  T he hike ended abruptly when a hoard of tourists marched up the path towards us. I grabbed Azrian and engaged in the infamous Jonathan Livingston Seagull (JLS) speed, which by mere thought, visualizing Duncan Colton’s mansion, we materialized inside the foyer. I called it a mansion, my sister called it an estate. Unlike her, I didn’t care which was which.

  First order of business commanded that I fire Dougal. Leave Azrian in charge while I sped back to the hotel to bring Ariane home. From the lobby, we marched into the grand room. Funny, how dull and lifeless the two-story room seemed compared to the coming of age party we almost had for Zoeree. Years of dust coated the chandelier. The shelf-lined tea lights had never been placed. I strung the entire ceiling with fairy lights in one of the trial runs. Rented a hall for a big bash…and then no lights at all because she died at birth. Stop! All thirty-three trials rushed my mind at once. Either ignore the memories or lose focus.

  Then visions of Zoeree dressed in the dazzling turquoise dress tugged my heart. Reminiscent of a few of Athorsis’s resets, this do-over ensured my niece would never be born, especially after the changes I was forced to make, never mind the odds against her birth over millions of others. One of the stones in the leather pouch wiggled, zapped me with an electric jolt as if to gain my attention. “What the—” I slapped the pouch in my pants pocket.

  “Pop?” Azrian tugged my arm. “Earth to Pop?”

  “I’m here. All sorts of crazy memories are bombarding me at once. It will take me a while to adjust.” Unlike anyone else I dragged along for a JLS ride, my son handled the dizzying speed, shown off by the solid stance the moment we reached the mansion. The lad didn’t twitch or blink; yet, shook his head and rolled his eyes when I slapped my pants pocket again. The eyeroll came too often of late. The gesture made me feel inept, almost like an old man compared to his youthfulness; yet, only a few years separated us at most. No time to do the math, Duncan’s butler foremost on my mind.

  “What’s the plan?” He pointed at the man who entered the lobby. “Is that him? The dude you’re going to fire.”

  Aye. The staunch posture, white slick-back hairdo, and black tux gave the butler away. Before he reached us, I stepped in front to address the smug butler. “Change of plans, Dougal. You’re dismissed as of this minute. Before you leave, pack your bags and excuse the rest of the staff as well. I will have my lawyer write up a generous severance for each one of you.”

  “Sir?”

  “If I see your face anywhere within ten miles of Duncan’s mansion—my mansion—I will personally remove you myself and deposit you in the Antarctica. Do I make myself clear?”

  The smug bastard left without uttering a word. Second order of business—hire the same lawyer Duncan recommended in his last will and testament. The list of people Sabree employed after he bought the mansion and we moved in, fell in order. Another list. Hopefully, the staff would be available.

  “Azrian. Make yourself useful. I have a few things to take care of before I bring Ariane home.”

  “Home? We just got here.” He pouted when I shot a stern glance his way. “Can I have my old room?”

  “Great idea. Meet me in the kitchen in ten.” I flew across the great room into the office. Before sitting in the plush leather chair, I opened the drawer to make sure the scrap book was in its rightful place. The book fell onto the floor as I let myself drop into the chair. A wave of familiarity, no scratch that, a knock-down, drag-out déjà vu swept over me. I expected to see Dougal’s rifle aimed at my head.

  I had better get used to the off-kilter sensations with heaps of déjà vu episodes to come. Weirder yet, the hollowness and heavy-legged sensation meant the old me must have taken one of those cursed anti-vamp pills. To compensate for its toxicity, I popped two Colton tabs and pulled out my cell. The monstrosity, a plus-sized iPhone swallowing a smaller one, dropped from my hand as if it were contagious. My future phone had merged with the older model. No good. Add service provider to the list. Thankfully, Duncan’s landline was still connected.

  Within minutes, I hired a lawyer, Edinburgh’s finest, and called a staffing company to send over a new head butler, kitchen crew, maids, and landscaper. Most of the people Sabree hired three years from now were available. All good people easy to trust. I also ordered an Audi to be delivered for Ariane.

  The next few calls went out to the fastest, secure web service available, no expenses spared. The service provider guaranteed excellent network connection at this address. I also ordered three new iPhones with unlimited data for the three of us and arranged a delivery of wines, groceries, and sweets to stock the kitchen. Certain something slipped my mind, I decided to let Ariane order new furniture and decor, hoping she would leave little room for Sabree’s treasured Ming vases or antiques. Too bad. The grimace on his face whenever I accidently broke one made me chuckle.

  Most of the list completed, my hands slid across the satiny-smooth desk until both arms and upper torso leaned against it. A deep breath filled my lungs with the scent of lemon waxed into the aged mahogany wood. This personal vault would serve me well.

  While I purposely kept the leather pouch of stones on my person, I wrestled the stash of Colton tabs from my jacket pocket and stuffed the bag into the bottom desk drawer. I locked it and put the key in the pouch. Until Ariane could set up a lab to make more Colton tabs, super-potent dosage, I had to ease up on using JLS speed. Save it for the retrieval of the journal flash drives—all nine.

  Note to self: tell Ariane to fire Eric Tripper. If she won’t do it, I would certainly give it a try. Might even enjoy it. I slapped the top of the desk. To-do list number one was completed in under ten minutes. Oops, make that fifteen. Time to meet Azrian in the kitchen. No sooner than I raced for the do
or, my son stepped into the office.

  “My cell doesn’t work.”

  “Who would you call? Technically, you aren’t born yet.” True for my son, but because I beamed into the past Brian, my future phone tried to eat his old phone. The Colton tabs and leather pouch managed to beam in whole.

  Azrian dropped the phone onto the desk. His eyes glistened. “Can’t you go back and grab Zoe just before that guard shot her?” He cleared his throat a second time.

  Cluttered more than an overstock Amazon warehouse, my mind reeled for an answer. The only rational solution flooded me with renewed grief. Athorsis would have caught me at the rescue and stopped me cold. Figure out that I outsmarted him in the end, thus prevent me from jumping back in time. That explanation might anger my son to the point of refusing to go along with the do-over. I scratched my scalp, mussing up the speed-blown hair. “Sorry, too much at stake. At this point in time, and I cannot stress this enough, Athorsis has no idea we bamboozled him.” I hope. “If I execute a rescue stunt involving a future jump and back, it would jeopardize everything Tim and I worked for.”

  “I get it, Pop. You tried your best.” He continued to stare at the floor. “What’s next?”

  We both welcomed the change in subject. “The new staff will arrive later today,” I said. “Groceries are being delivered along with our new phones. Paid a hefty price for same-day-delivery.” A nervous chuckle squeaked out and I folded both arms across my chest when he rolled his eyes. Again.

  “Not too shabby, Pop.” His gaze drifted to the floor-to-ceiling library. “Good thing we have plenty of books to read. You forgot to add TV service to the list.”