Court of Nightfall (16 page)

The Chancellor sat in front of his fire, stroking the white Persian that he'd come to consider family after all these years. "Orpheus, I do wonder how much more of this I'm equipped for on some days."

When he heard the knock on the door to his office, he sighed, set the great beast of a cat down and shuffled to answer what was inevitably going to be unpleasant news. Any visitor arriving after midnight always came bearing grave tidings, he'd learned over the years.

A young Hospitaller stood before him, her freckles still fresh and eyes still bright. "Chancellor, I apologize for disturbing you, but I couldn't find my Grandmaster and I thought you'd want to see these results immediately."

"Come in, child," he said, gesturing her out of the hall.

He closed the door behind her and guided them both back to his chairs. Bad news was best heard in comfort. Another truth he'd learned over the years.

They sat, her perched on the edge of her seat with spine straight as a board. She held an envelope that she handed to him the moment he settled. "It's about Miss Night. Her test results came back and…"

"Yes?" he opened the envelope to see for himself.

"Based on her blood work… I know this is a delicate subject being your granddaughter and all, but as you know we study many races of blood and…"

Her babbling grated on his tired nerves, so he prodded her along. "Child, I'm an old man and in need of rest. Please arrive at the point succinctly."

"Well, she's different, Sir. And, based on my research, I think… she might be…" She gulped and tugged at her braid. "She might be Nephilim."

She whispered the word as if it were the vilest curse, which he supposed to her it was.

He scanned the results with old eyes and folded the paper back up. "Does anyone else know of these results?"

She shook her head. "No, no one."

"And did you follow protocol when discovering anything relating to Nephilim?"

She flinched at the word, but nodded. "All files have been wiped clean and only this paper file exists. All safety protocols have been followed to the letter."

She smiled like he might reward her a gold star for her work. In any other situation, he might. But tonight, well, tonight the stars were aligned against them both it seemed.

He stood. "Thank you, child. I'll handle it from here."

Her shoulders dropped down and her face relaxed. "Thank you, sir. I worried you would be angry."

"Not at all. Just tired, as I said. It's been a long night and bound to get longer."

She bobbed her head and walked in front of him. "Of course. Good night, Chancellor."

Before she could open the door, before she could utter another word, the Chancellor jabbed a knife into her back, expertly positioning it between her ribs to penetrate her heart and kill her instantly. As she slumped he caught her body and lay her on the expensive carpets that would now be marred by blood stains. "I'm sorry, child. I truly am. But no one must ever know that my granddaughter is Nightfall. The world needs her more then it needs another doctor."

***

Andriy Zorin sat in the Cathedral, now a slightly cleaner version of itself, and played chess against himself. An activity that had occupied him for several hours.

He always won.

Of course, he also always lost.

"May I join you, old friend?"

He looked up and into the face as familiar as his own. A big man, cloaked in black, crossed the room and sat across from him. Heavy silver shackles bound his wrists.

Zorin smiled at the man. "I was told I was the last of our kind. I'm glad they were wrong."

"I hardly count," said the man, moving a pawn forward.

"It isn't the wings that make us who we are," Zorin reminded him. "How did you find me?" Zorin asked, countering his move.

"The news. Umbra is very distinct. And I figured, if you were in the area, you'd be here."

Zorin's hand fell to his sword. He could hide his face, but his blade would always be his tell.

"I've watched you these past days," the man said, moving a bishop. "You've taken on another apprentice."

Zorin captured a pawn and then studied the man before him. "I had to turn her. I owed her parents."

The man smiled, his dark eyes creasing. "Or did she remind you of someone? Perhaps, someone from long ago?"

"I don't know," said Zorin. "Like you said, it was long ago."

The man moved his Queen, posing a threat to Zorin's King. "You know the path you have set her on," the man said. "What she will become."

"She'd be dead if I'd done nothing."

The man frowned. "Perhaps that would have been better."

"Perhaps." Zorin moved his knight. "Checkmate." He stood and walked away, but the man called to him.

"You were always good at strategy, Zorin. Or shall I call you Nyx now?"

Zorin stopped and turned, towering over the man he'd known too long. "Do not tell the girl."

"I will not. At least, not for now—"

Zorin dashed forward and grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him off his chair and into the air. "I care for you, friend, but do not mistake my kindness for weakness." Zorin dropped the man to the cold floor.

He clutched at his throat, choking, before he could speak again. "I will not tell her."

Zorin stood over him with a challenge in his eyes. "Then will you follow me again?"

The man moved to his knees and kneeled. "I have followed you for many years. I shall not stop now."

A smile tugged at Zorin's lips as the wind howled around the Cathedral. "Then we have work to do. The Nephilim have returned."

Call us Karpov Kinrade. We're the husband and wife team behind
Court of Nightfall
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The Nightfall Chronicles
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Karpov Kinrade is the pen name for the husband and wife writing duo of bestselling, award-winning authors Kimberly Kinrade and Dmytry Karpov.

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