Knight's Fall

by Angela Henry

  Minutes later, Desi had been taken from my arms and bundled off into the ambulance. They wouldn’t let me go with her. The truck full of NeCro was confiscated. But the guys loading it had been smart enough to run when the scarab demons arrived. Bullets killed off the few remaining scarabs. White jumpsuit-wearing EA agents picked up what was left of Grace, a few fingers and toes, part of his torso, and a pile of gooey black feathers, and loaded the bits and pieces into a body bag. I’d been told to wait inside the garage to give my statement to the head of the EA, who’d yet to arrive. Instead, and while everyone was busy cleaning up the scene and erasing all traces of what had happened, I put the Range Rover back on its wheels. It was dented all to hell, and the driver-side windows were all broken. But it started right up. And I got the hell out of Dodge.

  ****

  A week passed, and the effects of the angel blood had finally started to wear off. I had no idea how Desi was doing. Then I realized the EA’s phone number was still in my cell phone from when Desi had used it. I dialed the number and was amazed when someone answered.

  “I’m calling to inquire about the condition of Agent West,” I told the person who’d answered. It had been a woman. She paused and then hung up on me. Five minutes later my phone rang. It was a different number, but the same woman.

  “Are you the one they found with West out at that alligator farm?” she asked, speaking barely above a whisper.

  “That would be me. Now how the hell is she doing?”

  “I can’t talk here. Is there someplace we can meet?” I gave her the address of Zeno’s.

  Half an hour later, I sat at my usual booth by the jukebox nursing a Corona, when a redhead with a paisley eye patch that matched her short skirt walked in. Everyone turned to stare at her, but it could have been because she had great legs as much as it could have been because of her eye patch. She looked around the bar and then instinctively made a beeline straight for me. She slid into the booth across from me and grinned.

  “Miriam de Jesus.” She held out her hand. “And you’d be?”

  “A concerned citizen,” I told her, but I did shake her hand. I’m not that rude.

  “Okay. So it’s going to be like this, is it?” She cocked her head to one side, clearly amused.

  “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to know how Desi’s doing.”

  “Desi, huh? What happened to Agent West?” she teased. I glared at her. “You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you?”

  “Not really. Now will you stop wasting my time and tell me about Desi?”

  “Fine. She was in really bad shape when they brought her in, but she’s stable now. In fact, she’s getting better every day. Everyone at the EA is actually pretty amazed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Her spinal cord was injured. Technically, she should be paralyzed but she isn’t. Any ideas on how that could be?”

  “Not a one. But thanks for the info.” I got up to go.

  “Hey, wait!” She put a hand on my arm, and I looked at it until she moved it. “Look, Mr. Knight, I’m kind of in a bind, and I really need your help.”

  “How do you know my name?” I asked.

  She snorted with laughter.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re all anyone at the EA can talk about. They’ve opened up a file on you and are digging up everything they can find.”

  “Shit,” I said softly and sat back down. That was exactly what I did not need.

  “That’s why I’m here. I thought we could help each other out.”

  “How?”

  “Well, who do you think’s job it is to dig up all this info on you?” She gave me a sly smile.

  “You?”

  “Gold star for Mr. Knight,” she said. “I’m a librarian, and as you know, we’re all about information. I get paid to find it for the EA. How much are you willing to pay me not to give it to them?”

  “This about that debt shadow that followed you in here?” I was happy to see all the color drain from her face.

  Across the bar in a dark corner was a figure in all black. It had no facial features because it had no face. The only reason I could see it was because I still had angel blood in my system. Miriam could see it because it had been attached to her. I’d finally noticed that she didn’t cast a shadow. Whomever she’d foolishly owed money to, usually a nonhuman bookie or loan shark, had taken her shadow as collateral and replaced it with the debt shadow, which would follow her until she made payment in full. If she didn’t, it would devour her.

  “I’ll throw in regular updates about Desi.” She sounded desperate as she glanced into the corner at the shadow. I leaned back in the booth and fixed her with a look. “Okay,” she said, sighing. “I’ll be your personal librarian. I’m good. I can find out anything.”

  “And how do I know you won’t turn around and sell me out to the EA?”

  “You don’t. But you’ve got my word that I won’t. Besides, West would kill me.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked, suddenly curious.

  “Since they brought her in, all she does is sleep. And she must be dreaming about you because she keeps saying your name in her sleep. Xavier! Oh, Xavier! Don’t stop, Xavier! You get the picture. Sounds like she’s jonesing for you to me.” She winked.

  Everyone in the bar stared at us, and my face got hot. Could Desi be dreaming about me, or was it the part of her that could still be Ava remembering me? As useful as this woman could be to me, I really didn’t want a personal librarian, but she had me at, don’t stop, Xavier. I had to know how Desi was doing.

  “I’ll be in touch so we can work out the details.” I tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and slid out of the booth. “Oh,” I said, putting a hand over the bill before her greedy fingers snatched it up. “I summoned scarab demons to kill a Nephilim for me. Think about that if you get the urge to screw me over.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, boss.” She tucked the bill into her bra.

  TWENTY-ONE

  I headed home past the same alley where I’d found the late Anton DePreist, planning to stop in to see Madame LuLu along the way, but her shop was closed. To be honest, I just didn’t want to go home. The EA had cleared Granger of any involvement with NeCro, but since they still didn’t know how he’d managed to vanish from their interrogation room and he had no valid explanation for them, they dropped him from the apprentice mage program. The kid had been living in the EA’s dorms and now had nowhere else to go and was sleeping on our couch. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t spend all day watching Harry Potter movies and crying over what could have been. Between him and Minx, who was still furious with me over the Range Rover and kept leaving half-eaten mice in my shoes, home wasn’t a real fun place.

  I had decided to kill a few hours visiting Father Sims at the church when I heard a noise in the alley. I should have left it alone, but like I said, I didn’t want to go home. I stepped into the alley. It still stank of garbage and had trash bags strewn all over it just like it had the night I’d found Anton. The noises were coming from the back near the dumpster, where I found a homeless guy in a baggy red tracksuit and cowboy boots rummaging through the trash. A grocery cart filled with bottles and aluminum cans was next to him.

  “Evening,” he said and smiled. He didn’t have a tooth in his head.

  Feeling like an idiot, I just nodded to him and turned to go.

  “Not even going to say hello, Xavier?” said the homeless guy.

  I stopped and stared.

  “Do I know you?”

  “I should hope so. You only worked in my division for five hundred years. Granted, that’s not a long time where we come from, but it’s not an insubstantial amount of time, either,” he replied.

  And with that, his form was bathed in white light, and a golden halo appeared above his head. The only angels in heaven who had halos were the archangels. I fell to my knees and bowed before him.

  “Raguel, please forgive me for not recognizing you
,” I said. But there was no way I’d have ever recognized him. We’d only met once, and I didn’t even know it had been him at the time.

  “Get up. Get up. We’re not in heaven, and quite frankly, all that bowing and formality makes me nervous.” He chuckled as I got to my feet.

  “What are you doing in this alley?”

  “I just wanted a word.” He smiled his toothless grin again.

  “What about?” I was confused. What could archangel Raguel possibly want with me? I was no longer a guardian.

  “I’m well aware that you’re no longer a guardian, Xavier,” he replied, literally reading my mind. “I’m also aware of the plot you helped foil involving the Nephilim Langdon Grace.”

  “You know about that?”

  “That and your recent visit to the archives.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “SP told you?”

  “Saint Peter didn’t need to tell me.” He took a step closer. “I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. Are you surprised?”

  Surprised would be one word; gobsmacked and embarrassed would be the others. If he’d been watching me, then he’d seen all of my recent fuckups and probably counted his blessings that I’d been kicked out.

  “You were a fine guardian, Xavier, easily one of our best. But I think you’ve found a greater purpose right here on earth.”

  “And that would be?” I noticed his light had dimmed a little and his expression had turned grim.

  “Langdon Grace’s plot was not the first, and I’m sorry to say the worst is yet to come. Grace was not acting alone. I’m afraid there is a traitor in heaven who would like nothing more than to destroy mankind.”

  “Alexi?” I didn’t tell him I’d witnessed Alexi letting a charge die. If he’d truly been watching me, then he already knew that.

  “No, I’m afraid Alexi is just a very small spoke in a very big wheel. Did you know he’s given up his wings?”

  “What? Willingly?” I couldn’t have just heard him right. Alexi giving up his wings would be like a fish giving up water. But then again, I didn’t know him like I used to. I didn’t know anything anymore.

  “He was dropped from the gates not more than an hour ago. That’s one of the reasons I know this conspiracy reaches the highest levels of heaven.”

  “Sorry, but you lost me back at Alexi giving up his wings.”

  Raguel sighed, finally beginning to get impatient with me.

  “Tatiana Romanov was reborn about twenty years ago,” he said bluntly, and I finally got it.

  “And Alexi gave up his wings to find her.”

  “Exactly. You know full well, Xavier, that information about rebirths is strictly confidential; the only ones in heaven privy to that info are—”

  “The archangels,” I said, finishing his sentence. Raguel nodded.

  “I believe an archangel plotted with Langdon Grace and enlisted Alexi’s help in framing you for the offense that got you clipped in exchange for the details of Grand Duchess Tatiana’s reincarnation. Dark forces are at work in heaven, and they wanted you gone, my friend. Did you know they wanted to execute you?”

  “Are you the one I should thank besides SP that they didn’t?”

  “Of course, I couldn’t let them execute you,” he said indignantly. “But I did have to go along with your clipping. I couldn’t let on that I knew something was going on.”

  “But why get rid of me? What the hell does it have to do with me?”

  “Either you know something, or they think you know something, that’s a threat to them. I’m looking into that, but I need your help, Xavier.”

  “But I don’t know anything, and just how am I supposed to help you?”

  He started smirking, and I didn’t take it as a good sign. I knew coming into this alley was a bad idea.

  “I’d like to hire you,” he replied. “I’ve been observing you for a year, and you do great work. I trust your instincts.”

  “So I’m guessing that working for you down here is that higher purpose you were talking about?” Great. First, I get my own personal, compulsive-gambling librarian. Now, I’ve got a new archangel boss, neither of whom I wanted. “And just what do I get out of all of this?”

  “Answers.” He reached into the grocery cart and pulled out a black baseball cap. “Starting with this.” He turned the cap around, and a pair of eyes blinked lazily and peered at me from the canvas.

  It was the baseball cap Marius had given me. The one I’d mounted with the eyes I’d stolen from the wings of that cherub who’d been about to blow the whistle on me in the archives. I remembered it still being on my head when I’d landed back on the side of the road but couldn’t remember what happened to it afterward.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  “I told you, I’ve been watching you.” He shrugged. “I found it on the side of the road in the bushes after you changed.”

  I tried to keep my thoughts blank so he wouldn’t know how completely stalkerish I thought him watching me change in the bushes was. But I think he could tell anyway by the way he cleared his throat and looked at the ground before he spoke again.

  “I think you’ll be surprised by what these eyes have seen.”

  He tapped each eye, and they blinked rapidly before opening wide, like they were super-surprised. Beams of light shot out of each pupil, and Raguel turned the hat toward the brick wall we were standing in front of. The beams projected a moving image against the brick like a video recording. It was only about twenty seconds long. The vantage point was from above overlooking a darkened office. But I couldn’t tell where the office was, let alone many details beyond a large ornate desk and a high-back chair. A robed person rushed into the room and placed something small and black on the desk. I couldn’t tell who it was or make out any features because the hood of the robe hid their face. But I could see what they’d set on the desk: a small ceramic teapot with a bamboo handle.

  It had swirling purple designs on it that perfectly matched the teacup I’d seen on the tray with Ava Duval’s name on it in the archive of Alternate Existence. From the pocket of their robes, the figure pulled out what looked like a mallet and smashed the pot to smithereens and kept pounding the shards until they had been ground to dust. From the dust rose a swirling cloud of smoke, which sparkled like mad before evaporating. Then the video stopped. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I wasn’t sure what I’d just witnessed, but I sure as hell knew it had something to do with the destruction of Ava’s existence. I couldn’t speak for a few minutes.

  “A soul’s alternate existence needs a vessel, Xavier,” began Raguel softly. “Once that vessel is destroyed, it needs a new vessel to survive. It will seek out the primary existence’s vessel and will destroy the existence residing within that vessel when it takes up residence.”

  “Then you’re telling me that when Desiree’s teapot was smashed, her alternate existence had nowhere else to go, and in order to survive it had to take up residence in Ava’s body, which wiped out Ava’s existence?”

  He simply nodded before adding, “This was an illegal act by someone with knowledge of the forbidden archives. This was not sanctioned.”

  “And I was going to ask . . .” My voice trailed away as I again had to face the fact that Ava was truly gone.

  “You were going to ask if I’d been the one responsible for your lover’s altered existence?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I looked at the ground.

  “No harm done, Xavier. I’d have been surprised if you didn’t ask.”

  I just shrugged and kept staring at the ground.

  “We know how it was done,” said Raguel, his voice surprisingly gruff. “And if you work for me, I believe together we’ll find out why, by whom, and what it has to do with you.”

  “But I’m mortal now. I have no powers. How can I help you when I can barely help myself?”

  “Nonsense. You have more power than you know. Now I can’t you give you back your wings, but this should do.” He pl
aced the palm of his hand flat on my back. “I’ll be in touch,” he whispered in my ear. And then he was gone.

  Burning pain where he’d touched my back made me fall to my knees. It was so intense my eyes started watering, my vision became blurry, and I passed out. When I woke up, I found myself lying across my bed on my stomach. The digital clock on my nightstand read 12:15 a.m. It had been five hours since I’d left Zeno’s and ran into Raguel in the alley. How the hell had I gotten home?

  “Are you finally awake?” Minx stood silhouetted in my doorway.

  “Are you finally speaking to me again?”

  “Only if you tell me what’s going on.” She flipped on the light and came inside.

  “What do you mean?” I sat up.

  “I mean I saw you leave hours ago. Then two hours ago I see this bright light coming from under your bedroom door. I ran in here, and there you were lying on your bed. I’ve been home all evening, and I never saw you come back. What kind of magic are you on, X?”

  “Good old Raguel.” I was grateful that my new boss hadn’t left me in the alley.

  “Huh?” said Minx.

  “Nothing.” I got up, stripped off my shirt, and headed for the bathroom for a shower to wash away the alley grime when Minx gasped.

  “Xavier! Your back!”

  “What?” I turned, trying to see what she was talking about. All I caught was glimpses of blue lines. So I headed into the bathroom, with Minx hot on my heels.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to have this done,” she breathed as she examined my back admiringly. I shut the bathroom door, where a full-length mirror was mounted, grabbed a hand mirror, and turned.

  I almost passed out again. Every square inch of my back was covered in an electric neon blue tattoo of an elaborate set of angel wings that started at my shoulders, with the tips ending right above my ass. Each wing seemed to be growing out of the scars of my old wings. Instinctively I arched my back, and the neon blue wings unfurled to their full thirty-foot wingspan, filling the bathroom. Minx tried to stroke one of the feathers, but her hand went right through it.