The Swords of an Angel: The Guardian's Fall Chronicles

by Urania Sarri

  I’d do everything to get him back, to disentangle him from the Squad’s claws. That was no secret to Denzel. So, here I was, a double agent, ostensibly on a new mission assigned by the same people who had ordered my death. I was supposed to locate the Gateway for them, which had for some strange reason, moved. For an even stranger reason, I couldn’t fathom, Denzel was convinced I was the only one who could carry this mission through. Such was his despair to find the Gate that he had accepted my one and only condition: to let Christopher come with me. To my astonishment, Denzel had no clue of the clandestine save-Christopher-mission the Crusaders had organized to get their comrade back. Which was going pretty well and according to plan apart from a slight detail which changed everything. No sooner had I gotten back to my world with Christopher when I discovered he was different. A changed man, a cruel assassin once again, a loyal Squad member who made it clear I meant nothing to him anymore. In his eyes, my mission to save him was nothing but a huge blunder. And my life was hanging in the balance.

  That was why I had no other choice but run away from him in the rain; because I was pretty sure I couldn’t endure another second near him without risking my sanity.

  When I got out of the taxi I took a moment to stare at the beach house in front of me. The house Christopher had bought that summer for us. I was determined to clear my thoughts of anything related to him. Since he was gone, the place felt desolate, forlorn and abandoned. The oversized arched windows looked harrowing dark in contrast to the white of its walls but the flowers in the garden were still in life, breaking the gloom that pervaded the place. My nostrils filled with smells of the sea, its whining breaking the silence of the night reminding me it was still there to comfort me.

  I found the key behind the gardenia pot where I always left it in case he came back. Every time I tried to reach it I prayed for it not to be there. But just like today, it was always there. I unlocked the heavy wooden door and took a few seconds before I entered. This would be my first time in our house without the hope that Christopher would return. Never before had that place seemed emptier to me. I closed the door behind me and almost ran up the stairs. My movements were mechanical, fast. I took off the clothes that had already dried on me and showered. It was unbearable and, at the same time, wistful for me to stay here. I should not let my mind play the same tricks again, recalling his face, imagining him sitting in the living room, on the porch, or lying in bed next to me.

  After the shower that did little to alleviate the ache inside my chest, I curled on the sofa in my bathrobe with a glass of wine. I turned on the TV hoping it would distract me. Alex wouldn’t answer his cell phone, but I kept calling him several times and left a couple of messages. What could have happened to him?

  Things would have been much different if I hadn’t crushed Alex’s hopes last Christmas in London when I told him outright that I only saw him as a friend. We had a terrible fight, which ended with his departure for Greece. I had no one to blame but myself. If I hadn’t taken advantage of Alex’s feelings for me for as long as Suzan, my Crusader friend, needed him as a cover up while she prepared me for my time-travel and my encounter with Denzel, maybe things would have turned out differently. Alex had forgiven me for what I did. But it didn’t mean I forgave myself.

  It was already dark outside when I began to wonder how long it would take for him to get here. More than four hours had passed since he’d called, but I told myself I shouldn’t panic. He should be here in any minute. Then he would take me away from here and we’d try to find Tom or Susan. They would know what to do. As long as I didn’t have to look into those empty, deep-blue eyes again. I would manage to go on somehow, to find a way to survive. I had done this before. I should know.

  CHAPTER 2

  Under Duress

  The ear-splitting sound of thunder jerked me awake. All of a sudden, an alarming ice-cold tingle stirred every nerve under my skin. Someone was in the room.

  Despite my instincts warning me, my body refused to cooperate as panic took over. The house was dark. Trying to figure out where the intruder was, I quietly reached for the bottle of wine on the coffee table, the only way to protect myself. But I couldn’t find it.

  My ears throbbed at the frantic pounding of my heart.

  In a sudden flash of lightning, I saw him sitting in the red armchair, right across the sofa. A familiar, still figure in his usual black Squad suit; broad shoulders upright against the back of the chair, hands resting on the armrests.

  “That was a very foolish thing to do,” Christopher said calmly, a second before panic punched my chest.

  My relief lasted only for a split of a second. I remembered he was the one I’d been running away from, unable to deal with the change in him. Why on earth did he have to follow me here? Why did he keep on torturing me with his adorable face and his irresistible voice?

  “Why are you here?” I whispered sitting up. “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I continued, my voice faltering. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

  “It’s too late for that I’m afraid. It was you who brought me back, remember? You started this, Emma, and no one can stop it now.” His voice sounded milder than a few hours ago when he had drawn the line between us. Still, underneath his composed façade, I had the feeling there was something he was trying to hide.

  “I’m perfectly sure I can stop it now. I won’t be bothering you anymore; you’ve made it clear that you want nothing to do with me.” I tried to sound stern, hoping he missed the edge of despair in my voice.

  “As I said, it’s too late. They’ve got your boyfriend.”

  “Who?”

  He pressed two fingers against his forehead, right between his eyebrows, in a gesture that revealed his exhaustion.

  “The guy you’ve been meeting in that hotel in London.”

  I blinked. “What hotel? Oh, my God! Are you talking about Alex?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Is that his name?”

  Moving on its own, my hand reached up to clasp my throat. “What…Who’s got him?” I squealed.

  “You know who’s got him.” a rigid voice said. “I told you many lives would be at risk until you completed your mission.”

  “What are they going to do to him?” The thought brought a heavy feeling to my stomach, making me sick.

  “I can’t say.” He shrugged. “Maybe nothing.”

  “But you don’t really believe this, do you?”

  “I don’t know what to say to you, Emma. Your guess is as good as mine. They still keep me in the dark, you see. It didn’t help that you ran away.”

  “I’m sorry I caused you trouble.” I hoped he didn’t miss my sarcasm. His problems with the League didn’t matter to me anymore. I only cared about the news he came to deliver. They’ve got Alex. The Squad kidnapped my only friend here. I should have seen it coming. I shouldn’t have involved him in this. Tex has Alex. Because of me. Because I ran away. Horror overwhelmed me at the thought of Alex in Tex’s hands. I had to get him back. Whatever it took. I needed to save Alex.

  “You mustn’t let them hurt him. You owe me that.” Tears started to wet my face.

  Christopher looked into my eyes for the first time since we came back from the League’s time. Despite the darkness around us, interrupted by the continuous flashes of lightning, I was suddenly very aware of his scrutinizing stare.

  “I’m really sorry, Emma. He must be really important to you,” he said.

  “Alex is my friend, you fool. My only friend who knows.”

  He didn’t take his eyes away from my face. “Come on now. You can do better than this. At least be honest. Do you often spend hours in a hotel room with your male friends?”

  What was that about? Was he really jealous of Alex? I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

  “I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you this. Besides, I’m glad you’ve moved on. The question is: what are you going to do now?”

  I wished I could see his face clearly, to read
his eyes. Was he really glad about the possibility of Alex and me being together?

  “What do you think I should do?” I asked him trying to clear my mind from the blur of panic.

  “It’s up to you. I know what I would do if someone I cared about was captured by the Squad.” he shrugged.

  “Well, obviously I can’t walk away under the circumstances. I can’t leave him to the Squad.” I stood on my feet and started walking back and forth nervously.

  “So, what are you saying?” he asked.

  I inhaled deeply. “Tell them I’ll do it. I’ll have to find an excuse about why I ran away, though.”

  “I’m sure they already know why you ran away.”

  “Mateo?” I knew Denzel had sent his snitch along to check on us.

  He shook his head before he put his hand in his pocket to take out his cell phone.

  “Wait!” I stopped him. “Tell them I won’t cooperate until Alex is safe. They will have to let him go.”

  Christopher didn’t say anything. He stood up and walked to the kitchen, amazing me with how he found his way in the dark as if the house was brightly lit.

  I remembered there used to be a lighter and candles in the drawer next to the TV set. I felt my way in the room and lit the vanilla scented candles. Their dim light gave the room a cozy atmosphere, reminding me of the summer when Christopher would inexorably use all his charm to distract me with his seducing talent and evade revealing to me the real reason he had come to my world. But I couldn’t be swamped with memories; I shouldn’t break now, even though the situation was evolving into what I’d been trying to avoid.

  I poured some wine into my glass and gazed at the storm through the glass door, trying to find a way to distract myself or, at least, hold back the tears that threatened to break out again. Outside, the rain kept falling and every now and then flashes of lightning, followed by claps of thunder, illuminated the rough, black sea in front of the house.

  Christopher came back. His face looked terribly pale in the candlelight, an impressive contrast to his dark clothes. He looked thinner and more tired than ever. Still, he was so excruciatingly attractive.

  “Well?” I asked, trying to speak around the lump in my throat.

  “They’ll call back. But I wouldn’t expect them to call soon. It’s part of the game. They will try to test your limits.”

  “Do you think they’re going to let him go?”

  He shook his head. “Not likely. They’ll let you talk to him. They’ll probably hold him as an assurance so that you do what they’ve asked.” He thought about it for a moment. “I wonder,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “How did they find out he was coming to you? They must have caught him on his way here. Did anybody else know he was coming?”

  “No.”

  “That’s strange. They could be tracing your cell phone of course but still, they moved too fast,” he said with a bewildered expression on his face.

  “Do you think Mateo gave me away?”

  “Mateo didn’t know about him. I’m sure about that. He was as surprised as I was.”

  Surprised, I thought. About finding out that I had a new boyfriend probably. I thought of all those things he was ignorant of. Everything that had happened during the last two years we’d been apart.

  I had imagined myself telling him about it as soon as I found him, but now I knew it would remain an imaginary conversation.

  “Can’t you see what’s going to happen? Not even a glimpse?” I asked.

  “Not anymore. I’m not allowed to.”

  Christopher must have taken the bottle of wine while I was asleep because it was now on the coffee table next to him. Wondering how long he’d been watching me sleep, I poured some wine into my glass and took a few sips. Christopher cast me a disapproving look.

  “Since when did you start drinking?” he asked.

  I wanted to laugh. Drinking? I had been through so much and he was concerned about my drinking habits?

  “Give me a break, Christopher! Besides, you’ve lost the right to tell me what to do anymore, don’t you think?”

  His pursed lips and his clenched jaw revealed his anger, but he didn’t argue.

  “It’s only four o’clock. I suggest we both try to sleep. They’re not calling for the next couple of hours. Why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll take the sofa.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  I took my glass in one hand and a candle in the other so I could find my way to the stairs. I saw Christopher take the bottle of wine to the kitchen and I smiled thinking that somehow his gesture revealed he still cared.

  But the hope vanished in the following seconds after I said, “Suit yourself. It’s your house anyway.”

  He stopped and turned to me. “No, it’s not. I don’t belong here. Never did, never will. You’ve got to keep this in mind,” he reminded me and turned towards the kitchen again.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me and held my breath. I could have never imagined that Christopher’s presence would be as painful as his absence. Maybe even more painful. How many times I had wished with all my heart for him to come back to this house. How naïve had I been to think I could revive the past, that nothing had changed and we’d be able to go on with our lives from where we’d stopped? Why hadn’t I seen this coming? Why had I ignored the signs? The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that Plato, the wise Commander of the Crusaders and Christopher’s mentor, knew about Christopher’s change of heart and he’d tried to warn me. Besides, every time I recalled Christopher’s words, it seemed like it had been ages since Plato had warned me that hearts changed and nothing lasted forever. He was right. Forever was an unacceptable word for us. Back then, I’d thought he was only trying to comfort me; I’d missed the warning in his words. I’d intentionally ignored all the signs. I was the star in my one-man act, keeping my head in the clouds, creating my own reality, my own illusions. Now, it was time to pay the price.

  My mind was a mess. The changes in my life had once again been so sudden and dramatic that I failed to fully comprehend them. The bottom line was I had to change the route of my life if I intended to retain my sanity. And of course, I had to do everything in my power to save Alex. I involved him into this mess, and I was responsible for getting him out.

  I found it impossible to sleep, suffering from the torture and despair inflicted by the unexpected obstacles I had brought upon myself. I could not tell which was more painful: the love of my life was a stranger, who didn’t love me anymore, even worse, had never really loved me, or that Alex, my good friend was in mortal danger because of me? Tossing and turning in my bed, I couldn’t help thinking that, however hard it was for me to accept, deep down I knew Christopher’s return, even under these circumstances, devalued Alex’s troubles. I pitied myself more for the thought. Why did I have to be obsessed with a person that had made it clear I left him cold? Alex cared so deeply; he’d risked his life for me, for God’s sake! Christopher was the “there” and “then” whereas Alex was the “here” and “now.” I had no excuse. I should stick to reality. But then, had the last two years of my life been a total waste? How could I leave everything behind me? I was impossible to accept that I had to give up on my love for the man I considered to be my other half.

  How could he have done it? How had he deleted me from his life? Could it just be an act, part of his protect-Emma-mission he had undertaken when he first met me? If it was an act, it was too realistic. No, that has to be wishful thinking. Hopes of a broken heart, I thought, realizing I had soaked the pillow under my cheek. But my tears stopped with the last thought. The wound in my heart became too large to leave space for any kind of externalization of my pain.

  Alex. Stick to this thought, I repeated to myself. He could not be punished for what I’d done. Neither could anybody I cared about. I shouldn’t allow that. I would rack my brain to think of a way to blackmail Denzel, but I was aware of the fact that he’d always be one step ahead. It wa
s more than certain.

  The knock on the door made my heart pump fast. I got up and looked at my face in the mirror. Awful image. Red eyes and dark circles underneath. I quickly fixed my hair in a sloppy bun but there was no time to change the bathrobe I was still in.