by A. P. Marie
The Fallen keep from pissing the King off enough that he doesn’t come looking for them, and he lets them police themselves in the small things. They even have a designated leader. It’s not quite the same as the King though. The Fallen Leader is not inherited, he is chosen. Each Fallen family gets a vote, and once elected, the leader serves for life, unless the families vote to remove him. Then the next election is held, and someone is brought in to replace him.
The fallen treat heir leader like a King and defer to him in all things. If an issue arises, Zander is expected to talk to the leader first, and give him a chance to get his brethren in line.
I also didn’t know that the Fallen have another hierarchy of sorts inside their community. Apparently, the longer your family has been Fallen the more power and prestige you hold. The Fallen Leader is almost always chosen from one of the Original Fallen lines.
There was also some mention of ‘The curse of the Regina’ but it was mentioned very quickly in passing and with no real indication of what it was. I make a mental note to find more references so I can figure out what a Regina is and what it has to do with the King.
There are whole chapters on mating and pairing and I really want to read about it, but my brain hurts so bad already that I can’t see starting in on any new topics just yet.
“Ugh. It was so much easier being human.” I collapse back onto the bed spread.
“Yes, but it couldn’t have been anywhere near as much fun.” The smirk is clear in Zander’s voice before I ever open my eyes.
A huge grin breaks across my face and I sit up so quick the room spins around me.
“Zander.” His name on my lips tastes like a prayer. The ache in my chest releases. The feeling had been present for so long that I didn’t even acknowledge the ache anymore. It had become as constant to me as the motion of my lungs sucking in and expelling air.
“Em, we know where you are.” The image of Zander comes nearer to my location on the bed. Much like last time we visited each other in this way, it’s obvious that Zander is not really in the same room as me. Holding my hand up for inspection I see that the shimmery quality my skin had last time doesn’t seem to be an issue. Instead Zander seems noticeably shinier.
Excitement bubbles out of my chest and up my throat. I can leave. I can get out of this place.
“When will you be here?” It never even entered my mind that Zander and Caiden might leave me here. That’s when it hits me. I trust these men. Explicitly.
“We're collecting our resources and gathering our men now. We will be there as soon as possible.” The relief is evident in his voice.
He’s coming for me. I flop back on my bed in relief, accidentally dislodging the history book I have been reading and causing it to tumble to the ground. Before I can pick it up, Zander is there, turning the book over in his hands.
“What is this?” Something about his question causes me to look up at him. His face has transformed from open and relieved to closed off. Almost like he’s worried. I can’t help the feeling that he is hiding something from me.
“It's a history book. I borrowed it from the library.” I would have thought it was obvious seeing as Zander still has not removed his eyes from the cover.
“Why are you reading this? I already taught you all of this.” His tone has taken on a defensive quality that I can’t understand.
“It's not a big deal. I’m just so confused about some of this stuff and I thought starting at the beginning would help.” I shrug nonchalantly hoping to sooth Zander some.
Zander finally gets control of whatever he was battling, and he comes to sit by me on the bed. We are not touching anywhere, but my body hums with electricity from his nearness.
“When you get home, I promise to make sure you have a thorough understanding of everything in our world. I’ll hire a tutor for you, if you want. But, for right now, you just need to focus on yourself. Don’t worry about this stuff.”
His argument, while logical, falls flat. Because for the first time I can feel him blocking my gift. He is using all his strength to keep me from reading his sincerity. Had he used a little less I may not have ever noticed, but he came in strong and I can feel it. I can also feel him through our connection, and I can feel his heart beating at crazy speeds.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll worry about this later.” I flash him my biggest smile as I turn my body towards his. One good thing about my time here with Cam, is that I have learned to act the part. My chest aches at the realization that I am using something I learned from Cam against Zander.
Relief flashes through Zander's eyes as he leans towards me until our torsos are touching.
“I miss you so much. I haven’t been able to breath with you gone.” He brings his fingers up to run against my cheek. “Once you get home, I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
I tuck my head into his neck and the physical contact sends shivers of pleasure running all along my body.
“I have to go back. I just wanted to let you know that we are coming. We will be there within the week.” His lips run along my cheek bone and despite my misgivings with his reaction to the book I feel desperate for him to stay, but already his form is wavering and losing mass.
Zander's form shimmers and fades to nothingness in front of me. Right as he disappears entirely the book he had still been holding falls to the ground. I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding it, almost as if he thought he could take it with him when he returned to his body.
When I go to pick up the book, I find myself carefully perusing the cover. I lean back on my bed, find a comfortable position, and crack the book open.
Chapter 16
Regina
Everything. That’s what’s in this book.
Knowledge.
Power.
Distrust.
It’s all here.
I know now why Zander didn’t want me to have it.
I know now why Cam wants me. It’s not as simple as Zander and Caiden would have me believe. Although the prophesy is probably part of it, it is definitely not all of it.
I even know now why Zander and Caiden want me. And that is where the distrust stems from. That is where this terrible ache in my chest has been constructed from.
One paragraph of this book had the ability to destroy me in a way I didn’t know was possible. But it doesn’t stop at one paragraph. This book has an entire chapter dedicated to what it had only mentioned earlier.
The Regina.
Remember that little piece of information about the King being a direct descendant of the most powerful Angel? The problem is that over the course of thousands of years that line still becomes just as diluted as all of the rest of them. So, every so often (it didn’t list a specific schedule) there is what is called a Regina. A Regina is a female Nephilim born with pure angel blood. I’m not a scientist, so I’m still a little confused on how it happens, but apparently a Regina does not only receive DNA from her parents. God goes and throws some extra angel DNA in there to strengthen her blood line. Which also works to give the Regina powers that are nearly as strong as a full-blooded angel.
Her descendants are the rightful heir to the throne. Her mate is the King. That’s not to say that she has to mate to the King. It means that whoever she picks as a mate becomes the King. No questions asked. No appeal to the council. Nothing can be done once a Regina has finished the mating rituals.
Unfortunately, Reginas tend to have a very short life expectancy. Many, many Reginas have been killed throughout history when one side or the other realized they couldn’t control her. See, they are easy to find. They all have this nifty little gift of being able to tell if the people around them are honest or not. It’s supposed to help them make a good decision in their mate. You can’t lie to a Regina to get her to fall for you.
I run my fingers through my hair pulling lightly on the strands.
I am a Regina.
I know it like I know my name.
I am po
werful beyond measure.
My mate will be King.
My descendants will be Kings.
I cannot trust anyone.
∞∞∞
By the time I have read the book cover to cover it is dinner time. How I manage to sit through dinner without screwing up everything I have worked towards is a miracle. It’s probably only even possible because Cam is so fixated on the papers in front of him. I’m sure I’ve broken a dozen of his rules, but he hasn’t noticed.
We make it through dinner with very little interactions and when he has finished eating, he dismisses me. For the first time, I am left to walk through the halls on my own. Freedom is something that I haven’t experienced in weeks, and as a woman who has been alone since I was a teenager, these weeks have been absolutely stifling. Walking slowly, just because I can, I meander slowly up to my room, pausing briefly when I hear voices behind a closed door. I catch something about an illness and breaking bonds and what sounds like two people discussing normal day to day business. Just the unfamiliar timber of another voice is soothing to my soul, and I decide as I continue on my way to my room that houses should always be full of people. Like Zander’s was. Frustration works through me at his name and I pull myself away from the voices.
On my way to my room I stop by the library. Zander and Caiden knew. They know I am a Regina and they weren’t going to tell me. Zander's reaction to the book is enough to prove that. He knew what I would find in that book and he didn’t want me to find it.
He will be here in less than a week. I need a plan.
Chapter 17
Holy Shit, Maybe I’m Kitty Pryde
The next week passes painfully slowly. Twice I am sent back to my basement room for “training.” I spend every spare second in the library utilizing the resource while I still have access to it. And I came across some things that were more than useful. They were life altering.
I found one book, a children’s teaching manual, which teaches kids the theory behind power control. And thankfully, it is handy for an adult with no control over her powers also.
I had thought my truth trick was my only power. How wrong I was. Turns out that little gift is just scratching the surface of what I am capable of.
The book recommends a lot of meditation, which is miserable, but the book swears it will work.
This morning I woke up and showered the same as I had for the last week. Today, though, dread coursed through me as soon as I stepped into the room. Fear coiled and uncoiled in my stomach like a dying snake, as I picked up the clothes laid out for me for the day.
Every moment. Every thought. I knew something was going to happen. Something bad. And I couldn’t stop myself from fixating on that possibility. When would it happen? Now? Maybe after breakfast? Maybe not until dinner?
On my way down to breakfast, I decided to make a pitstop in the kitchen, hoping that no one noticed the book I left behind me.
My answer came soon enough. Something happened during breakfast. As soon as Cam finished eating, he called Tyler and told him to take me to the cellar. He gave me some bullshit excuse about having to get work done and not being able to watch me. I’m not stupid though. I realize that he could have just locked me in my bedroom if that’s all he needed, but since he isn’t sending me to the training room, yet, I don’t want to piss him off by questioning him.
Sitting cross legged on the hard, cement floor the cold seeps into my legs. Slowly, the coldness sinks into my body until I swear, I can feel it in my bones. Trying to ignore the cold, I focus my attention on emptying my mind. That’s when I notice that something feels odd, almost like there is a haze over my mind. When I focus on the haze, I can feel its edge clearly, like it is laying just over top of my conscious mind. I push my awareness against the edge, but it resists my consciousness. When I stop pushing against it, it has a rebounding quality, almost like jell-o.
But I’m hardheaded and I’ll be damned if there is any place in my own head that I can’t go. So, I muster the will and I push against it for all I am worth. By the time I feel the surface tension break, I am sweating and panting, but on the other side of the barrier, is another world. Actually, it seems to be the same world, just more. I can still feel myself on the hard floor. I can still smell the dampness of my cement room. But now, I can also feel the rooms around me.
When I focus on the room next to me, I start moving towards it. Well, not really moving. Looking back, I see my body sitting still on the floor, but my consciousness moving slowly towards the next room. I’ve heard of out of body experiences, I’ve never experienced it myself, but it’s the only way I can rationalize this. To my surprise, my consciousness doesn’t stop at the wall. I slide threw the wall like it is nothing more than a veil. When I reach the next room, I stand there shocked, taking in a room that I have never seen before. A smile breaks slowly across my face. I walk through the walls, down the hallway, up the stairs just to test my new ability. My consciousness is lingering outside of my body but moving with my will. I can see in rooms that I have never been in before. I can locate couches, offices, libraries, that I have never seen.
When my mental probe reaches the dining room where I eat dinner most nights, I notice a point of heat through the nearest wall. I walk slowly towards it. Laying my hand against the drywall the wall feels normal to the touch, and yet I can still feel a warmth radiating from this direction. Cautiously, I float through the wall towards that heat.
A gourmet kitchen reveals itself on the other side of the wall. I can’t see anything here that would explain the heat, but I can still feel a warmth that I haven’t encountered elsewhere. The more I focus on the heat, the more convinced I am that it must be a person. It feels like a person. As I focus on it, I realize that I can almost taste her intent. Cooking. She’s thinking about cooking. No, that’s not quite right. She is thinking about cooking for someone. She used to love to cook for Burris, but he got so sick at the end that he could hardly eat. Her thoughts are so crowded with nostalgia and yearning that it overwhelms me.
The shock of this realization snaps my focus and I’m pulled back to my body. Opening my eyes, back in my jail cell, I jump to my feet, excitement leaking out of me like water through a sieve. Moving from one side of my cell and back I ponder the implications. I can scope out parts of the house I haven’t been allowed to see. I can tell who is in the house. I can get a general sense of what they are doing or thinking about.
Then I realize that something has changed. Almost as if a new window has opened in my brain. I can see the room that I am in now with my physical eyes, but I also have an impression of the rooms around me. Like a phantom map that is laying lightly on my mind. On that map, I can feel little heat spot people. People in sections of the house I didn’t just walk through. Doing things that I have never seen them doing.
According to the book, all skills develop and strengthen with use and practice. If I can feel all the beings in the house now, with practice I might be able to stretch that to greater distances.
Time flies when you’re having fun, or so they say, and I’m so caught up in my own head that I don’t realize how much time has passed. When Cam opens the door to bring me to dinner, he immediately sticks his nose in the air like he smells something unpleasant.
“Why do I smell magic?” The look on his face is enough to let me know that I am in deep trouble.
“Magic? I can’t do magic.” Fear pulses through my body like liquid fire. I don’t want to be afraid of him, but I can’t help it. His training room has accomplished that much.
He stalks to me and fists my hair in his hand, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“You weren’t talking to him were you?” His voice has gone hard and despite my best effort I shiver under his gaze.
Cam has ordered my punishments more times than I can count but he has never touched me aggressively, until now. And that terrifies me.
“No! I swear to you, I haven’t talked to him.” I silently pray that he can read the sincer
ity in my voice, but I cannot tell him what I was doing. He can’t know I’ve learned how to use this gift, or he will find a way to stop me or try to use me.
The darkness in his eyes never fades. He calls for Tyler and hands me over without preamble, sentencing me, once again, to the training room.
Of all of my time in the training room, that night is particularly brutal. When I try to find a happy place, I find myself returning to that mental map and all of the little heat specks. That night I realize how much more I can do with this new power. I learn that if I focus on any one speck of heat, I can tell things about that person. Sometimes, I can feel their emotions. Sometimes, I can hear disjointed thoughts. Sometimes, with a herculean effort, I can influence them.
Tyler stands at the foot of my chair panting heavily. He’s really lost his patience with me today. Apparently, he doesn’t like it when I take his fun away by not reacting. I tried to explain to him that he would get a much bigger reaction from me if we didn’t meet like this quite so regularly. That didn’t make him happy either. Normally, his attacks are controlled and interspersed with his blathering on about how awesome Cam is. This time though I’ve really done it.
His attacks have become erratic and unhinged. He’s stopped telling me about Cam and has resorted to just beating the shit out of me. I felt my ribs crack hours ago. My eyes are swollen nearly shut, my nose and lip are bleeding profusely. You really think I would have learned my lesson and would be keeping my mouth shut, but I’ve used all of my self-control to stay in line with Cam. I’m not wasting any down here.
“Let’s call that a day, eh?” I taunt him idiotically. “You seem tired. We can finish this up later.”
My voice is slurred due to my swollen lip and head injury, but my tinkling laugh comes out clear enough and rage flashes through his eyes again.
“You never learn, you stupid bitch. Just shut the fuck up and take your punishment.” Poor Tyler is gritting his jaw so hard I’m surprised it hasn’t snapped.
