Protected by the Fallen: A Fallen Angel Reverse Harem Novel (The Fallen Harem Book 3)

by Samantha Britt

  “No,” Vera shakes her head. Her eyes are wild with fear and pain. “No. Jude is strong. He will be fine.”

  I want to reassure her, but I’m not equipped for this. Concern for Joseph coupled with fear during the attack has fatigued my emotions. Vera must feel the same. I’m not sure I would respond well to being consoled, even if it’s meant kindly.

  I look back at Zeke, a burning question in my eyes.

  His lips press into a tight line. “No.” I shouldn’t be surprised. He hadn’t even wanted me to go heal Joseph, and he knows what he means to me.

  I try to make him see reason. “He’s her soulmate.” How can he be so cruel? If Zeke would only take two seconds to put himself in Vera’s situation, I know he’d want someone to heal me.

  Adrian quietly steps beside me. He places a hand on my shoulder. I think he’s going to side with his brother, and I brace myself to make my case to two stubborn Fallen.

  “How fast can you heal someone, Angel?”

  I straighten, and my eyes snaps up to meet his. Is he really on my side? “What?”

  “How long does it take for you to heal someone?”

  I feel Zeke’s anger gather around us. I ignore him. “It depends. Sometimes a minute or two, but the worse cases take longer.”

  Adrian frowns, glancing back at Vera and her heart wrenching sorrow. “Fallen will be arriving to pay their respects. If you’re going to heal him, now is your only chance.”

  He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I move toward the bed, only to be stopped by Zeke’s grip. I’m getting pretty tired of being grabbed and pulled.

  “Vera is in here,” Zeke hisses.

  “She’s your friend,” I hiss back, yanking my arm free. My cold glare could freeze water. “She won’t say anything.”

  “He’s on the brink of death,” Adrian places himself between us. Never in my wildest dreams would I have considered Adrian the more sensible, less volatile, twin.

  “All the more reason for Veronica to do nothing. The embassy knows Jude’s injuries are dire. What do you think will happen if he’s able to get out of bed and walk around like nothing is wrong? I know you two believe I am heartless, but Veronica’s safety is at stake.”

  My jaw clenches, and my hands fist at my side. “You’re right. Healing him puts me at risk. Me. Not you. I’m not going to let you make every decision for me. This is my life. I’m healing Jude, and I don’t care about any damn risk.”

  I turn around and approach the bed, bracing myself to be wrenched back, but I reach Vera’s side untouched.

  “Vera?”

  The distraught Nephilim struggles to look away from her pale basherten. Her brown eyes have lost their shine, and her shoulders are hunched forward in defeat.

  “I think I can help Jude.”

  Her expression doesn’t change. “How?”

  I’m not sure how to explain my gifts in a way she will understand. Now’s not the time to tell her I’m not Nephilim. I decide an example will suffice. “Remember how I healed Zeke in the library?”

  I see her eyes spark with a hint of hope. Then, she frowns. “This is different. Jude is d-dying.” She struggles to get the last word out.

  Movement over my shoulder lets me know Adrian and Zeke have positioned themselves behind me. Vera glances at them with a furrowed brow.

  “Vera,” I clear my throat, aiming to sound confident, “I am going to help Jude, but you have to promise to never say a word. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” she says with no hesitation, abandoning her earlier doubt, letting hope gather in her eyes. “I promise. I won’t say a thing. Please, help him.”

  I nod. I trust both of the promises she’s made today. “I’m going to need you to clear the way.”

  Reluctantly, Vera lets go of Jude’s hand, but not before she presses a kiss against his knuckles.

  I climb onto the bed and take Vera’s place at his side. I scan his body, trying to figure out where he sustained the most damage. The blood is coming from several wounds. I see one on his chest and one just below his left ribcage. Based on the blood pattern on the comforter, I’d hazard a guess he sustained another injury on his back. I know from working with Lukas’ soldiers that The Darkness provides its followers with weapons tainted with dark power, enabling them to wound the otherwise indestructible Fallen. My task is to excise the darkness from Jude’s body, then use my healing powers to clean and close the wounds.

  With the plan in mind, I begin. Placing my palms on top of his chest and rib wound, I feel dark energy ailing his body. Closing my eyes, I visualize the poisonous evil. It’s black, but not like the blue-tinged black of my Light soulmates’ hair. No, this black is a void with endless depth and frigid coldness. The evil is burrowed deep in Jude’s wounds, burning away healthy tissue, shutting down vital organs. With my eyes still closed, I push healing powers from my core to my hands. Where the darkness is black, my healing powers are vibrant white, and they are eager to nullify the effect of their enemy.

  My light travels into Jude’s wounds, going as deep as The Darkness penetrates. White rays line the borders of the wound, seeping into Jude’s injured cells, restoring them. At the same time, my powers encompass the evil, wrapping around it like a boa constrictor. The light smothers the blackness, and slowly tightens its hold until it singes and burns the evil out of existence. Not even specks of evil manage to escape.

  The hard part complete, I guide my healing power back to the surface, and whisper for it to mend Jude’s broken flesh. I hear Vera’s gasp as I finish the last invisible stitch and open my eyes, removing my hands.

  Disoriented, I sway and almost fall back. Two sets of strong hands are there to keep me in place. I slide off the bed, and my soulmates drop their hands, but I can feel their bodies are close, ready to catch me should I faint.

  Vera stands frozen, holding her breath as she stares at Jude. His skin has lost the ghostly hue. Blood flows through his cheeks, giving his skin a normal, healthy glow.

  “He’s healed,” I tell her, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Talk to him. Help him wake up.”

  She hesitates. Adrian places a hand on her back and guides her forward. She’s scared. I don’t blame her. I’d be scared too. I’d be afraid to have my hopes destroyed. Disappointment is a gut-wrenching emotion.

  Unlike Vera, though, I know I’ve succeeded. Her soulmate is healed. Now, she needs to wake him up. Hers needs to be the first face he sees after walking so close with death.

  Vera climbs onto the bed. She moves with care, not wishing to disturb Jude before she’s ready. Folding her legs underneath her, she sits back and stares at her soulmate. She takes in his torn and bloody tuxedo, eyeing his mended wounds. Slowly, she reaches out and takes her soulmate’s hand. “Jude?” she murmurs. Then, with more strength, she repeats, “Jude. You need to wake up now, love.”

  He doesn’t move.

  I am about to encourage Vera to try again when she acts without instruction.

  Scooting closer, Vera nudges Jude with her free hand. “Jude.” Another, forceful nudge. “Wake up.”

  Jude groans. Adrian, Zeke and I release matching sighs of relief.

  Vera squeaks like a mouse. She leans over his body, unbothered by the blood staining her gown. “Jude? Can you hear me?”

  “Of course I can hear you,” he grumbles, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Why are you waking me up? I set my alarm.”

  Vera laughs. It’s a mix of relief and hysteria. “Thank The Creator.” She presses her mouth against his, and I turn away to give them privacy. I meet Adrian’s gaze.

  “I need a cigarette,” he says with a smile, rubbing a hand down his face.

  “You shouldn’t smoke,” I chastise. Though, I understand the sentiment. The stress of the situation continues to rest heavy on my shoulders, and I know it will take time before I’m free of the lingering burden. Beside me, Zeke exudes similar exhaustion. I don’t look his way. I’m still angry with him.

  “Say the word, Angel,
and I’ll quit.”

  I roll my eyes but smile in spite of how I’m feeling. “Sure.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Not as far as I can throw you.”

  “You wound me.” Adrian covers his heart dramatically. “Don’t you know I’d do anything for you?”

  I fight the urge to laugh. On the bed, Vera and Jude continue their reunion. I tune out their conversation.

  “We should go,” I say. “Give them some privacy.” I look to Adrian for his approval. I don’t know the state of the embassy after the attack. If he says it would be best for us to remain in Jude and Vera’s apartment, I won’t object.

  “Agreed.” He says, sharing a look with his brother. I continue to avoid my other dark soulmate. “I’m sure The Council will call an emergency gathering soon. Until then, we can rest in our rooms.”

  I lift the torn gown and hold it in my hands as I turn around. I am less than five feet from the door when I see a figure blocking the exit.

  Master Nate stands in the doorway, sporting a damaged tuxedo like the other three Fallen in the room, but he appears unharmed. His eyes are locked on me, and I know before he says a word that he saw everything.

  Not one to waste time beating around the bush, Master Nate states with self-righteous certainty, “You aren’t Nephilim.”

  Twenty-Three

  “This is an outrage. I demand the release our bashert at once.” Zeke stands in front of the council, his arms crossed angrily over his chest. Adrian stands slightly behind him, and I have the feeling the only thing keeping him from unleashing his fury is the fact I am handcuffed across the room and my arms are held tightly by two Dark Fallen guards. One wrong move, and I can be knocked unconscious in a second, taken out of this chamber, and locked away where my soulmates won’t be able to see me.

  After we discovered Master Nate’s presence, the conniving Fallen had blurred and appeared less than one foot from me. Before I knew what was happening, he’d wrapped me in a headlock, his angelic power licking against the tender flesh protecting my carotid artery.

  After a series of violent threats, followed by a few requests for mercy by my soulmates, I found myself turned into The Dark Council. Master Nate hadn’t told the dark leaders why he detained me, only that it was a matter of great importance, and that I should be watched by the most diligent guards. Unfortunately for me, The Council listened. I spent the night locked in a prison cell, located four flights of stairs below ground. The cell was dark and damp. I thanked the guard who’d given me a thicker blanket than the ratty one tucked onto the metal cot pushed against the back wall. I would’ve freezed without it.

  I’d spent the night expecting my soulmates to break me out of the cell. I imagined their heroic entrance, breaking down doors and ripping the metal bars off their hinges. I’d be grateful for the rescue, but fearful what they’d done to be able to reach me. For as much as I wanted to be out of the depressing cell, I didn’t want my soulmates to make enemies of The Dark Council. We have enough problems without adding the powerful organization to the list.

  Alas, the hours passed without so much as a scuffle. No one tried to free me from my prison. Now, I see Adrian and Zeke have their own set of guards surrounding them, explaining the lack of rescue.

  All twelve council members sit behind a long table. Their faces range from solemn to fearful to eager. Sarah is a member of the solemn-face crowd.

  “Master Nate,” Sarah addresses the Fallen, ignoring her son’s demand. Master Nate stands on the end of the Council’s long table, farthest away from me, but his malicious and untrusting eyes are pinned on my face.

  “Yes, Lady Sarah?”

  She spares me a glance. “Care to explain your accusations against my son’s bashert? You must know, this situation is highly peculiar. We would all love an explanation.”

  Does she not know?

  I observe Sarah and realize she can’t possibly know Master Nate is aware I’m not Nephilim. She can’t know he’s about to blow my secret. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so willing to have him voice his suspicions in front of so many witnesses.

  “I observed Veronica Messenger, bashert to Ezekiel and Adrian, bring a Fallen angel back to life.”

  Murmurs rise among the council members. Several frowning faces turn contemplative, as if rethinking whether or not I am worthy of their sympathy.

  “Jude was not dead,” Zeke snaps. “Veronica used her powers to heal him. That is all. This entire debacle is a disgrace, and my brother and I will never forget the mistreatment of our bashert.” The sheer force behind his words makes some of the council members slink back into their chairs. Knowing what I do about Zeke’s unparalleled power, I’m not surprised. I shift my feet, and grimace when the movement causes the cuffs to chafe my wrist. They are laced with a stinging spell, enhancing their discomfort.

  The raspy voice council member, Paul, I believe is his name, clears his throat. “You speak of Resurrection power, Master Nate.”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I do.”

  “Resurrection power is not found among Nephilim.”

  “No, it is not, Your Honor.”

  The council member lifts a cloaked arm. “Do you have any evidence to back your claim?” The first time I met The Council, I thought Paul was a tight-ass. Now, I cheer him on. Master Nate doesn’t have any evidence. Without evidence, they have no reason to keep me locked up. I’ve done nothing wrong. Confidence renewed, I straighten my spine. I’m sure my hair is a mess, and I still wear the tattered gown from the banquet, but I refuse to look meek or guilty. I saved Jude’s life. I did nothing wrong. I will maintain the Nephilim façade, and Master Nate cannot prove otherwise.

  “The only evidence I have is what my own eyes have seen.”

  “Eye witness accounts are notoriously flimsy,” a female Fallen speaks up. I really should have learned the council member’s names, especially the ones who are reasonable.

  “Master Nate is our most notorious scholar,” the male standing beside Sarah states. “He is not some mortal walking along the street who witnessed a crime. If he says the girl raised Jude from the dead, I believe him.”

  My stomach plummets, along with my rising hope.

  Didn’t Sarah say she believes some council members are working with The Darkness? What if she’s right, and my fate is in the hands of the bad guys?

  “Without any evidence?” Zeke asks in a dangerously calm voice. “You will believe that male’s words over my own?”

  Several hoods turn as council members murmur their reactions to one another. Zeke’s question is no small matter. Does The Council side with Master Nate? Or do they side with the Fallen they desperately want to join their ranks?

  “Let’s put it to a vote.” Paul’s raspy voice speaks, silencing the side discussions among his colleagues. “In order to move forward with this gathering and discuss the ramifications of Master Nate’s claim, we must decide whether or not there is sufficient cause to believe him.”

  “A unanimous vote?” the male beside Sarah asks.

  “Yes,” Paul replies. “As always, the vote must be unanimous. If it is not, we shall reconvene at a later time, should additional evidence manifest.”

  Oh, thank God.

  There is no way Master Nate will get a unanimous vote in his favor. Sarah will not go against me, or rather, she will not go against her sons. Adrian and Zeke would never forgive her. Even if the other eleven Fallen are evil, I have one on my side.

  Still, I’m nervous, and my legs tremble as I wait for the crucial vote.

  Sarah lifts a hand in the air, and two orbs of blue and red light float in front of her. “The orbs of light know the truth of one’s opinion. Should you find Master Nate’s words true, a blue orb will appear above your head. Should you not believe his claim, the red orb will appear. Are we ready for the vote?”

  Sarah waits for every council member to lower their hood. My eyes are drawn to Paul. He looks as attractive as other Fallen, it’s only his voice that
grates on me. The female is lovely as all female Fallen, and her blue eyes are noticeably kind as she senses my attention. She gives me a supportive nod, and I know she doesn’t believe Master Nate.

  Scanning the table, trying to gauge who else may vote on my behalf, I nearly fall on my face when I see Roxy seated at the table. Her luscious brown hair is twisted into a simply braid, and she is just as stunning as she’d been at the banquet. Her hard, cool eyes meet mine, and I know she is not an ally.

  Sarah mutters in angelic. The orbs fly across the table, dividing into multiple balls of light which position themselves above the council members.

  I swallow as I count the color of the orbs which will save me. Four red balls of light. One above Sarah, one above the kind female, and two above two males whom I do not know.

  Eight blue orbs. I can’t believe it. The majority of The Council believes Master Nate with nothing but his word. I’d underestimated his influence.

  “The vote is not unanimous,” Sarah states the obvious. “Master Nate,” she addresses my accuser, “The Council cannot confirm or deny Veronica resurrected the Fallen, Jude, from death. If there is no other reason for her detainment, The Council has no choice but to release her from custody.”

  I glance at the scholar. Master Nate looks surprisingly calm considering he just lost an argument. When he turns stony eyes to me, I know the fight is not over.

  “The girl is not Nephilim,” he tries to prolong the discussion.

  “Of course she is,” Sarah contradicts, revealing the first evidence of her bias. I’m sure I’m not the only one who notices her voice is elevated. She’s no longer the cool, aloof leader she’s supposed to be. “I can sense Veronica’s powers from here.”

  “As can I,” Paul speaks up. I note the orb above his head is blue. He believes Master Nate, so why is he speaking against him?

  His next words reveal his motives, “Though… young Veronica does not feel like a normal Nephilim.”

  “What is that even supposed to mean?” Zeke speaks again, not willing to stand back and allow Paul and Master Nate to twist the narrative in their favor. “What does a normal Nephilim feel like?”