Fall of the Guardian: Descendants of Angels, #2

By Tracy Daley

When a Guardian disappears and secrets are exposed, a small group of friends discover the difference between knowing the future and choosing their destiny.

The battle with the Triune is just beginning, and Treadon and Ellie can barely understand their unusual connection, let alone fight an ancient evil. But when Gabriel Tuoer goes missing and the Veil of the Descendants invites Ellie to join them, divide and conquer takes on a whole new meaning.
Treadon and Rachel go in search of Gabriel and the missing Unguarded to discover the truth about Gabe's betrayal and the murder of Treadon's father.
Ellie and Jarren go to the Veil of the Descendants where the Descendants have remained hidden from the Triune for over a century. The truth is in the eye of the beholder and new battle lines are drawn that will test the very friendships they've come to depend on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Night Nook Publishing
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9781960617088

Tracy Daley

Tracy Daley has helped refine and edit dozens of books throughout her career. She has held many positions in publishing including editor, publicity specialist, and acquisitions editor. She lives with her husband and three kids in Taylorsville, Utah, but escapes to the mountains as often as possible.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Location: Coos Bay, Oregon

Date: June 14

Eleanore Agarwal

The last thing Ellie expected to find at the abandoned cabin she’d lived in as a child was a description of her death.

She’d promised herself she’d stop running. She’d promised herself she was ready for the consequences of facing her fears. But this changed everything.

What is it? Treadon Nelson asked from the doorway. He could always tell when she needed space, though she could sense his hesitation to leave her alone. Ever. His protective instinct came with any Guardian’s Bonding to a Descendant. But their Bonding had been incomplete, and their connection felt strained, confusing sometimes.

Ellie rolled the scroll she’d found on the floor among the ashes and dust and scattered debris of broken furniture without turning around. She tucked it in her pants, disguising the movement with a roll of her shoulders.

It’s hard to face the memories here. Ellie wasn’t lying. She wiped at a tear. It’s hard to see my home like this.

He took a step, broken glass crunching under his feet. She turned toward him then, the dim light from the porch silhouetting his broad shoulders. His workouts with Gabriel Tuoer had changed his physique from a high school athlete to a warrior, but his insecurities still hung about his shoulders like a physical weight. He was so cautious, so worried about living up to the expectations of a Guardian, that he often waited too long, moved too slow. She wanted to give him the confidence he needed, but now, with the Vision of her death, she was going to break his heart.

I’m sorry, Treadon said, looking around the living room. His gaze fell on the family pictures on the wall, the two happy children with a mother and father standing behind them, hands on their shoulders. Did you find anything that helped you remember?

Ellie wanted to close her eyes against the memories. Her parents had been taken by the Triune when she was only eight years old and her brother taken to a place of safety while she had been left to fend for herself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. She’d accepted that, but it didn’t fill the icy emptiness.

She’d come here for answers. Or for closure. She thought if she started from the beginning, she’d find a direction. And she had. It just wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

They moved through the cabin, paralleling each other’s motions, picking up discarded items, wiping dust from a windowsill. Ellie picked up the rumpled blanket from her bed, a quilt made from patches of her favorite things that had been sewn with love. She’d loved bats and squirrels as a kid, the wild parts of nature that had their own beauty and survival skills. Her mother had sewn it. And now it sat covered in dust, ripped down the middle, batting hanging out the front like an open wound.

Did this belong to your brother? Treadon picked up a set of mechanical building blocks.

I wouldn’t touch… but it was too late. A string pulled tight across the floor of the room and released a toy dart that hit Treadon square in the forehead. It was the kind with a suction cup on the end and it stuck to his face with a squelch. Ellie couldn’t keep the laugh in and had to cover her mouth when he gave her a flat stare. My brother loved complicated traps. I’m surprised that one still worked.

Nice. Treadon tossed the trigger back to the floor and pulled the dart from between his eyes. I think I’d like him. Has Gabe told you anymore about him?

I haven’t pushed the subject, Ellie said, though she wasn’t being completely honest. She asked Gabe about her brother and where he was, but Gabe only explained that he was in a safe place and until Ellie decided she wanted to leave, he couldn’t tell her the location. It would compromise the safety of others as well. Ellie felt desperate to see her brother, but she’d wanted to get her foster family settled and find some answers about the Triune and her future. She wasn’t ready to go back into hiding. And now she wasn’t ready to Bond with Treadon as much as she wanted it.

Ellie looked around the room that seemed so much smaller than she remembered. My parents chose to leave the Veil to fight against the Triune. I hoped coming here would provide some answers. Some clue as how we can fight back and find the Unguarded who have already been taken.

Treadon moved around the bed and reached for her hands. She let him take them, but she kept her arms stiff, not inviting him to wrap his arms around her waist. Keeping you away from the Triune is the best way to stop them. They wanted what you had inside you and they didn’t get it.

Hiding didn’t work so well for me before. She regretted the bitterness to her voice. She softened her tone and turned her palms so that their fingers intertwined. If Caden Bachman wanted to find me again, he didn’t have to wait six months. Something’s changed, and I need to know what. We need to face the future with as much information as possible.

I know. Treadon sighed. He stepped back like he could sense her hesitation; her fear that if she let herself lean into him, he would feel the scroll. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him about her decision. Let’s check the next room.

The front door slammed open. Gabriel Tuoer followed Abigail Nelson and Rachel Sampaio through the door.

I thought you were going to stay outside and watch for problems. Ellie pulled on her shirt, making sure it hung loose around her waist.

We found some, Rachel said calmly. Her dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she wore biking leathers. She had become a part of the family after Jarren left. Sometimes Ellie felt like Rachel fit in better than she did. Fenris are surrounding the cabin. The forest is crawling with them.

Can we make it to the car? Treadon asked. Retreat was his first choice. He wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to keep the final dagger from falling into the hands of the Triune. She ran her fingers along her forearms. Her skin was scarred from wrist to elbow where the White Dagger had been pulled from her right arm. Her left arm had matching scars, but Treadon had stopped Jarren’s dad before he’d gotten the Black Dagger from her bones.

Now she knew from the scroll that if the Black Dagger had been removed, she’d be dead. She was connected with the daggers and as soon as they were pulled from her body, her life would be over, and her Guardian’s life as well.

Adura had seen her death in a Vision. But Treadon wasn’t in them. Treadon wasn’t her full Guardian yet. And if she kept it that way—if she didn’t complete the Bond with Treadon—he wouldn’t die with her.

They’re coming in too fast, Gabe said. We’ll have to hold them off from in here.

What if we Bonded? Treadon’s fingers curled into fists. Would we create another pulse to stop the fenris?

Ellie glanced up at Treadon. Their eyes met and she shook her head. Pain flashed across his face, the doubt about how she felt. She wished she could ease the pain, let him know that he wasn’t the problem. He would walk through Hell and back if he thought it would keep her safe.

We can’t know what will happen with the completion of an incomplete Bond, Gabe said. There may be no pulse, or it could be magnified. We won’t know until it happens, but both of you need to be ready.

Gabe had seen the small shake of her head. They both had to choose this time. And Ellie wasn’t willing to do that to Treadon. Not even if it meant running again.

The growls of the fenris pierced through the walls and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She tried to fight the shiver that worked its way through her body as the memories of the last time she’d fought the demon hounds flashed through her mind.

We’ll fight. Abigail moved to stand next to the living room window. Rachel pulled the whip from her belt and moved to the kitchen.

Treadon’s jaw worked as he opened his fists and rubbed his palms on his pants. He wanted to Bond with her right now and she wasn’t explaining anything to him.

I’m sorry. Ellie turned away so she didn’t have to look at his face, and so he couldn’t analyze her expression.

Gabe handed Treadon a sword. Keep them from coming through the front door. If we keep the entrances blocked, we can take them down one at a time, even if it takes all night. They aren’t taking us by surprise this time.

Treadon nodded.

Abigail brushed the hair back from her forehead, her fingers tracing along the scar that had been given to her by a fenris ten years ago in this very room when they’d come for Ellie. And Ellie ran.

That’s when the voice sounded, loud enough to shake the glass panes in the window.

Come out. The thunder of the words made Ellie want to cover her ears. Caden Bachman was here. The man who had the answers. The man who wanted the dagger from her arm. It’s time to stop running. Everything has been set in motion and you have the final key.

Ellie stiffened. Her arm ached like her bones were grinding together. She was going to die one way or the other. Adura had seen her death in a Vision. She hadn’t thought her moment would come so soon, but no one else had to die with her. She picked up the quilt from her bed, hugging it to her chest for comfort. It’s me they want. The rest of you don’t have to do this.

Treadon grabbed her arm. No.

Rachel let her whip uncurl, the end slapping against the floor. We’ll fight them off. We still have a chance.

Not with so many. Ellie pushed Treadon’s fingers off. I don’t want you to die for me. My life is not worth more than any of yours.

There might be another way. Gabe held his sword by his side, his shoulders hunched.

No. Abigail moved toward the door like she could stop Gabe from opening it even though she was not even half his size. Rachel’s right. We can fight to the end. That’s better than giving up before we’ve even started.

He doesn’t want you, Ellie said. He wants me.

Caden Bachman is a businessman, Gabe said. He set his hand on Abigail’s shoulder gently, but firm enough that she had to step to the side. He likes a good deal. Let me see if I can bargain with him.

Don’t do it, Abigail whispered. It’s a trap.

Gabe raised his eyebrows. It’s our only chance.

He set his sword on the floor.

You’re not taking any weapons? Rachel asked.

No. Gabe opened the front door. Some battles are better fought with words. He walked out onto the porch and slammed the door behind him, shutting them inside.

The air pressed from Ellie’s lungs. She knew she should stop him, not let the man risk himself for her, but he was right. Either he stopped them or they would all be taken. And the truth was, she wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.

Chapter 2

Location: Southern Utah

Date: June 14

Jarren Calivan

Jarren shaded his eyes with his right hand and used his left hand to balance himself against the jutting cliff of sandstone rock, standing at the highest outcropping he could find. His vantage point gave him a clear view for several hundred miles.

His search for the last six months had led him here. The clues his dad left on his computer had led him on a research journey of legends and ghost stories, internet conspiracy theories and unexplained events all surrounding the idea of a woman who survived in the desert alone, only appearing to save a lost hiker or sabotage an illegal hunting trip. Most of the leads he’d gotten had been dead ends. But he’d finally tracked down a rock climber who’d broken his leg after a fall in Southern Utah and barely survived. Everyone said he had heat stroke, but he stuck to his story of a Black woman who had brought him cactus leaves and fried snakes to give him enough strength to drag himself to a hiking trail. He’d only seen flashes of her between moments of unconsciousness.

The expanse of the Southern Utah desert was intimidating. From the top of Jarren’s perch, there were no signs of human influence. A line of blue traced its way through the brown and red cliffs. The ground rose and fell in sharp, unpredictable ways, creating a beautiful display of deadly landscape. Even with the sun straight overhead, the jagged mountains and rock formations created shadows that tricked the eye.

He’d been exploring the area the injured rock climber had described but had found nothing to indicate someone could survive here alone.

But there was a dark patch between two pillars of rock that appeared to be more than shadow. It was green. He gauged the distance. It looked to be about twenty miles from the tower of rock he stood on now, twenty miles as the bird flies. The distance on foot was impossible to predict with the ground dropping away to incredible depths and then rising suddenly to create a natural wall.

A smile pulled at his lips. After all the frustrations and dead ends, he was getting closer. He could feel it. And the excitement of a physical challenge rose in his stomach—his empty stomach. He’d been searching the area for over a week without supplies, testing the new abilities he’d discovered after Ellie had stopped the pain in the back of his head. She’d opened a window to a part of himself that was connected with the earth. The ground seemed to speak to him, respond to him. His body was able to survive things no normal human could. He still felt the need for food and water, but his body continued to function, pulling energy from the earth itself.

He’d learned a little about Descendants of Angels from Ellie and Treadon before he left; before he knew he was one of them. But he needed to know more. He needed to know why he hadn’t been able to do these things until Ellie’s touch. He needed to know why his Descendant mother had left him. He needed to know what else he was capable of doing.

He licked his lips. It had been four days since he’d run out of the jerky and crackers he’d brought, but the thirst was not as bad as yesterday. He’d found a small pool of water in a shallow indent and sipped some of the moisture.

His bare feet pressed against the ledge. His dark skin and clothes were dusted with the red dirt of Southern Utah. It hadn’t taken him long to abandon his shoes once he’d left his car. It had been like trying to text with gloves on. He tried not to think of what his proper business tycoon father would think of him walking barefoot through the desert. He pushed the memory of his dad to the back of his mind, swallowing the anger for another time. He focused on the small dot of green that didn’t match the rest of the landscape.

He created handholds in the wall of the cliff and climbed down as easily as a kid in an elm tree. He sensed weak spots in the cliff the same way he could sense his elbows and joints. Learning to manipulate them had been a different story. Jarren was glad Treadon hadn’t been here to see him at the beginning. It had been like learning to walk all over again.

Jarren moved up and down and around the cliffs and crevasses as quickly as he could, but the sun had set before he made it to the oasis. He found a smooth rock still radiating heat absorbed from the sun and lay down on it. He softened the rock and pushed at its center, the solid surface reforming to give him a pillow. He could have made it to his destination in the dark. But not tonight.

There was a part of him desperate to reach the green oasis, to get the answers he craved, but he didn’t know who or what would be waiting for him in the shadows of the unforgivable crags. Or what he would say when they finally came face to face.

Jarren felt comfort wrapped in the arms of mother earth, but his eyes didn’t close. He watched the stars come out, first one, then a few, then thousands upon thousands. An infinite number of distant lights filled the black expanse. His chest lightened as his mind spun in amazement. It was the same scene he’d watched dance through the sky the last couple of nights, yet he couldn’t get over the beauty.

This wasn’t a sight he’d grown up with. He’d considered himself lucky to see a few stars come out in the sky over LA. Stars were what he saw in his father’s eyes when business was good. Stars that he’d watched disappear from those eyes as his father died in front of him.

The temperature dropped fast once the sun’s energy turned to warm the other side of the world. The cold didn’t bother Jarren until the early hours of morning. Once the chill made it impossible to sleep, he decided to continue his journey in the dark. He moved only a little slower without the light to guide him, pausing to interpret the feelings of the earth before jumping into blackness or sliding down into invisible canyons. The light changed the shadows from black to gray as he approached the two towering rock formations and the bright patch of greenery protected between them.

Hello? Jarren’s voice cracked as he tried yelling out for the first time in a few days. He cleared his throat to try again. A nagging sensation made him stop. Maybe he shouldn’t have announced his presence before looking around a little more.

He studied the two pillars of rock. They stood like a landmark or a warning. They were natural, but strangely symmetrical, like the two oracles in the NeverEnding Story. He didn’t want to just walk between them. He couldn’t see any eyes, but the image of the lasers shooting out of the eyes of the oracles in the movie still haunted his dreams.

He would get a view of the inside from above instead of walking between. He climbed the first pillar on the far side and then shimmied around enough to peek down through the branches of full-grown willow trees. They definitely weren’t a natural part of the landscape. The small valley was a horticulture heaven, not something found in the middle of a desert. The entire area was shaded by towing palm trees with wide leaves and coconuts, fruit trees, flowering bushes, and grass and shrubs growing in neat, conforming patterns.

His mouth would have watered if he’d had any moisture to spare. Through a gap in the leaves he caught sight of sparkling blue.

Water.

He listened, reaching out through vibrations in the ground but sensed no movement. Thirst finally overpowered his indecision. He climbed down the pillar, keeping out of sight of anyone hiding among the leaves. He reached the bottom and remained crouched beside the rock, waiting to see if his landing caused any sort of disturbance. He finally let himself move into the oasis. The line between brownish-red dirt and the grass was distinct.

One step was on dry and lifeless ground. The next step fell on cool, moist vegetation. He made his way around the outskirts of the oasis, finding tree trunks to take cover behind and ducking behind taller bushes so that he could approach the pond unseen.

Nothing. No movement. No voices.

He couldn’t resist. He walked out from the shade and knelt by the still pool. The water was crystal clear. He could see the bottom, the rocks and the pebbles, the contour of the ground. A school of tiny fish darted away from his shadow.

He dipped his cupped hands into the pond and sent ripples across the surface. He lifted the water to his mouth and the cool moisture sent a powerful relief through his body, soothing his cracked lips. He sucked the water from his hands. It was gone too soon. The small amount of water in his dehydrated body magnified his thirst beyond reasoning. He lost the self-control he’d been attempting to maintain and leaned forward, pressing his face into the cool pond and sucking water in gulping mouthfuls.

If you continue trying to breathe water like a fish, you will make yourself ill.

Jarren gasped at the sound of the woman’s voice, breathing in water instead of air. He’d been so focused on the water that he hadn’t heard her approach. He rolled over and pushed himself up into a protective stance, trying to appear intimidating while coughing the water from his lungs. At the same time, he realized the truth of her words. The initial relief of the cool water turned into a dizzying sickness. His vision blurred as his belly rejected the flood of life-giving water.

The woman made no move toward him. She stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a long spear. A glare of suspicion rested on her face as she watched Jarren sputter.

He went down to one knee, taking deep breaths to try and calm his spinning head. His vision cleared and he took in the image in front of him. The woman was tall, dressed in homemade clothes the color of dried leaves. No. The clothes were made of leaves, somehow softened and preserved to form the garments that loosely covered her upper torso, crossing over one shoulder and wrapping around her stomach. The other shoulder was bare, her dark brown skin exposed. The loose leaf skirt began at her hips and ended unevenly around her knees. Her hair was left in a natural crown around her head and her feet were bare.

Jarren looked into her face. A wise look of experience and suffering gave the appearance of age, but her skin was seamless, the years unable to touch her youthful beauty.

You’re strangely dressed for a lost hiker. Her eyes raked over him, taking in his khaki pants rolled up to his calves, a collared shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and bare feet.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to shake the sickness from his mind. He couldn’t quite clear his thoughts. The aching in his chest had nothing to do with being waterlogged. His reaction was unplanned, the small child inside of him taking over his deprived body.

Mom? was the only word he could get out.

Chapter 3

Location: Coos Bay, Oregon

Date: June 14

Gabriel Tuoer

Gabe stepped out onto the cabin porch. The trees swayed with the wind, as tormented as his own heart. The bushes moved with the restlessness of a hundred fenris. He heard the growls, saw flashes of shiny black fur. A few stepped from their cover, but they didn’t attack. Gabe buried his hands deep in his pockets to keep them from shaking. No swords. No weapons. He either had something to offer Caden, or he didn’t.

The moon was a sliver of a fingernail that wasn’t much brighter than the single star that kept it company in the northern corner of the sky.

Caden Bachman stood in the clearing beside the driveway sporting a three-piece suit. The picture of patience, of control. Gabe had fought him once before and lost, saved only by the death of Caden’s loyal demon companion and the efforts of Gabe’s brother, Vox. Vox had lost his life that night and Gabe wasn’t about to let the others in the cabin die if he could help it. There was something Caden wanted, or he wouldn’t be holding his demon army at bay.

Gabe stepped off the porch and approached Caden like an equal, like two pirates who had agreed to parley.

Poetic that even the moon had company while Gabe stopped two steps away from Caden. Alone. A single spark of light in a future with nothing but darkness. Adura had foreseen the end. And she had wanted to stop it. To prevent the destruction of the Descendants. But then she’d disappeared. Gabe had continued with her plan, following every detail, but his doubts grew as his efforts felt more and more useless. How could he be sure Adura’s plan would save them if she hadn’t even been able to save herself?

You. Why is it always you? Caden sounded more resigned than surprised.

Because it is my duty and my greatest desire to stop you from getting what you want. Gabe felt the heat of hatred flare in his chest. He faced the leader of the Triune, the man who had massacred the Descendants one hundred years ago. The man who had taken Adura. The man who had killed his brother. The slightest movement from Caden and the fenris would be released, but Gabe could barely hold himself back from attacking.

What I want? Caden said. I want to be whole again, for me and the other demons to be filled. I want to stop the hunger that eats at our souls.

The daggers will not give you relief, Gabe said. They don’t have that kind of power.

I know. But that doesn’t mean it won’t give me great pleasure to use the Black Dagger to finally kill the one who stands in my way.

There are other ways to kill Descendants. Gabe glanced at the forest around them. The fenris milled around each other, licking their teeth, and scratching at the ground impatiently. You know that better than anyone. Killing Descendants one at a time with a dagger is hardly effective.

Not effective, Caden said. His tongue felt along his own lips, like there was a leftover taste from a dinner he craved. Satisfying. You shouldn’t lecture me about effectiveness. Saving one Unguarded at a time, thinking you’re some kind of hero. Like each life has a purpose beyond watching the world burn. I will take the daggers so that I can finish things my way.

Your way will bring about the end, Gabe said. Even demons may not survive.

Of course, Caden said with a note of bitterness. The Guardian with the true heart. Even with your Descendant missing, you fight to bring about a future that doesn’t exist.

Adura hoped for a better future than the one she saw. Gabe blinked away the blurriness in his eyes. Adura had hoped. He had to keep that hope alive.

"But she saw what was, what is, and what will be. You know better than to doubt the future Adura saw. She was never wrong. Why