Flawed Angel (The Fall Book 1)

by J. J. Dean

  The ground is made of gray marble, not a crack to be seen in the untarnished floor. The walls are clean and pristine, bright mosaic paintings of cute baby angels surrounded by soft clouds. The walls are lined with vintage looking oil lamps, each one emanating a soft glow from the flames that sit within the casings. The only sign to show the room has aged is the worn down stone walls, but even those looks as though someone's gone at them with a sponge and soapy water. It's as though the room has been renovated.

  I'm suddenly being picked off the shoulder I've been slumped on, lifted as though I weigh no more than a feather, and put down on my unsteady legs. When I find my balance, I turn to face the rest of the room.

  In the middle sits a large marble table, the same color as the floor. Behind the table is a large cross made of wood, intricate patterns carved in the polished wood. In the middle of the beautiful carved cross is a wooden carved version of Jesus. Beneath the cross are rows and rows of lit candles, all varying in sizes and placed unevenly on the stone that juts out of the wall to hold them.

  I realize, too, that the man who kidnapped me like a barbarian isn't alone. On either side of the table stands four more of his kind; two to the left, one to the right and one directly in front of me with only the table to separate us. Each one wearing the same body of gold armor and each with faces that are too pretty. They look almost identical, but the slight variation in the shade of their hair colors distinguish them all.

  My captor moves from behind me and stands next to me on my right. Once he's in place, one of his buddies on the left moves to stand on my other side.

  "Care to explain what's happening here?" I question but receive silence as my answer.

  Hands are suddenly gripping me tightly and I'm being lifted off the floor. My body flails uselessly, my legs kick out trying to unlatch myself from these strangers. It becomes clear pretty quickly that I'm outmatched in strength when not one of them flinches and they both carry me over to the table and lay me down on my stomach.

  "Hey, whoa, what the fuck? Who are you?!" I yell out, my voice muffled when my face squishes against the stone. As quick as I'm put down, I'm flipped over to my back and my eyes connect with the man who'd stood at the end of the table.

  "Look, if this is a cult, I want no part of it. Cults really aren't my thing. You'll learn pretty early on that I'm useless at doing what I'm told," I prattle, trying and failing to keep my calm with my rambling.

  The man merely looks at me, his face void of any emotion. I look around at the others who now surround my body on the table, each one with the same mask of indifference. My heartbeat picks up its pace and my hands become clammy. What the shit is going on here?

  When no one answers me, not even to tell me to shut up, panic seizes me where I lie on the marble. I look for any escape routes only to find the door through which we came and no other points of entry or exit. It would be a futile attempt, regardless, with five inhumanly strong jackasses standing around me like they're about to sacrifice me.

  After a beat, each of them begins to chant, quietly at first, until their lyrical voices boom around the stone room, their mantra bouncing off the walls. Their voices harmonize beautifully and if I wasn't terrified out of my goddamned mind, I'd be in utter awe.

  As it is, with me lying on a slab of marble with chanting, gold-covered guys surrounding me, my panic goes into overdrive. I decide to risk being caught and make to bolt off the table to the door, but when I will my body to move, I realize I'm being held down by an unseen force, my body unable to move an inch. I try and try, forcing myself to move away, but it's as though a tightly wound blanket has been wrapped around every inch of me and strapped to the marble beneath me.

  The chanting gets louder, and with it the light grows brighter. I spot one of the lamps just to the side of one of my captor’s heads and see the flame growing abnormally large, the flames licking at the glass and seeking a way to escape. I feel like that stupid flame right now.

  With the chanting getting impossibly loud, my mind becomes a little disoriented. A prickling sensation crawls over my skin, my body beginning to feel as though it's being attacked by a swarm of a million wasps. Despite my efforts to get myself to move, I'm forced to lie here and endure the stinging pain that covers me entirely.

  The lights become blinding, the room surrounded by an orange glow. The strangers chanting all blends into one and it takes over my senses entirely. My eyesight turns to black, everything around me is muffled. I can no longer smell the scent of the earth or the candles burning.

  As quick as it's gone, everything comes rushing back with more clarity, enough to cause a throbbing pain in my skull. With my senses, a pain so fierce wraps around every inch of me. I release a sharp scream between gritted teeth, my eyes clenching shut tightly. My entire body feels as though it's been set on fire, flames coating whatever bare skin it can find, charring my flesh.

  The pain becomes so unbearable that another scream is torn from my lungs, so piercing that my own eardrums protest against the sounds. My captors’ voices all become a jumbled mess of words I can't understand through my agony muddled mind, and through the pain, I feel the telltale signs of unconsciousness rearing its annoying head.

  When another inferno sweeps across my body, the pain becomes excruciating to the point where unconsciousness seems like the more appealing option, and so I give up the fight and fall into the emptiness, escaping the pain and leaving my mind utterly blank.

  ***

  A chilly breeze wakes me from my sleep, the air so cold that I shiver and try to pull my blanket tighter around my body. Only problem being, I have no blanket and the breeze doesn't seem like it's coming through the open window of my bedroom.

  Shuddering against the bite in the wind, my heavy eyelids open slowly. My surroundings come to me in a daze, and I realize I'm outside lying on damp grass. Everything around me has darkened, and stars litter the night sky.

  Another gust of wind has me realizing I'm lying in wet grass in only a chiffon dress and boots. I involuntary shiver went the cold seeps through my thin dress, and pull myself up slowly, noting every bone that makes up my body aches terribly.

  With the fog in my head dissipating, I take a look around and find myself standing by my statue again. That one look sends floods of memories into my brain; the strangers in gold armor, the dingy hallway that led to the refurbished looking room, the chanting, and the pain.

  I quickly look over my body and find nothing is amiss, not even a scorch mark from the burning pain I felt before passing out. I look around again, noting nothing has changed but the time of day.

  Just before I turn to make my way home, however, a glint catches my eye in the far corner where the old mausoleum stands. I turn to face the small building and find the very same guy who kidnapped me standing like a silent sentinel outside the door staring in my direction. I stare at him in return, beyond confused at the entire situation I am finding myself in. He gives me a swift nod before facing away from me. I take it as my cue to leave, and without further hesitation, I turn on my heel and steadily make my way home.

  I drag my tired and achy body home, my walk to my apartment uncomplicated and void of any kidnappings or ambushes. I make it home in more time than it would have taken had my body not felt like it had been used as a battering ram.

  I force myself up the five flights of stairs and pull the spare key I hide in the little hole in the wall beside the door. The door is quiet when I open it, and male voices sound out as soon as the door is open fully.

  No one notices me at first, so I lean against the door and listen to the heated argument that seems to be in play in front of me.

  Asher stands in front of Devon - who's sitting on the couch looking worse for wear - pointing a finger at him. His deep timbered voice booms out, "You should have fucking told us she left her room. Who the fuck knows where she is now?"

  "I told you I was with her the entire time. They snuck up on us. By the time I woke up, she was gone," Devon res
ponds tiredly, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

  "You shouldn't have gone without telling us, you idiot! You were the one who told us how much danger she was in, and you just decided that we didn't need to know she was gone?!" Asher explodes, his face full of rage at the white-haired Angel, who looks like he's just as pissed off with himself as Asher seems to be.

  "Bro, calm down. This won't help us find her. Just take a breath. We'll get her back, and we'll chain her here so she doesn't go missing again." Eli tries to placate Asher, walking over to where he stands and clapping him on the back. Noah sits silently in my brown leather la-z boy chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands clamped tightly together in front of him. He looks positively distraught.

  Deciding to announce myself rather than stand back and watch them snap at each other and cause more problems, I half ass snort and proclaim, "You can chain me to my bed as long as you bring me coffee, cookies and books."

  Luna

  All four sets of eyes swing towards me, and a chorus of relieved sighs sound out from them all. Devon’s head falls to the back of the couch, and with a relieved, "Thank fuck," he rubs his hands roughly across his face. Why does he seem so glad to see me?

  Eli races over to me and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. When I groan in pain, he lets go and pushes me to arm’s length before his questions come at me in rapid fire. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?"

  "I'm okay. My body aches like fuck, so be gentle with the hugs. And I've been at the cemetery," I answer each question and then I'm pulled into another hug, but one a lot gentler than before. I feel Eli drop a kiss to my head and hear him sigh, and his arms tighten a fraction more when I lift mine to return the embrace. He holds me for a few moments before dropping another kiss on my head and then lets me go.

  Noah is just behind him, and he doesn't wait to pull me into another hug, his lean arms wrapping snugly around me. My arms go up automatically, hugging him back. His cheek rests on my head briefly before he pulls away with a pink tinge to his complexion. "I'm glad you're okay. You scared the life out of us."

  "I'm sorry," I offer to Noah and the others, looking at the floor for a moment.

  When I lift my head, my eyes connect with Asher’s stormy blues. His face is stony, his eyes sharp and intense. His muscled body vibrates with barely restrained energy and when I whisper, "I'm sorry," again while staring directly at him, he makes his move towards me.

  The look on his face makes me believe he's going to throttle me, so I move backwards until my back hits the wall. I lift my hand and point a warning finger at him and sternly tell him, "Don't you dare, Asher Ryan. Don't you dare."

  Ignoring me seems to be the focal point of the day when he barrels straight towards me. The moment he's in front of me, he bends his knees and looks as though he's going to tackle me through the damn wall. What happens, however, is that I end up in yet another fireman's hold.

  Asher wraps his arm around my ass before he lifts. I propel forwards with the momentum and find my stomach resting over another shoulder, but this one thick with sheer muscle. My body protests only briefly, until Asher’s hand comes up to hold my ass steady on his shoulder. My head dangles behind his back, my purple locks hanging in waves that reach just past the bend in his knees.

  "Asher, put me down!" I demand, placing my hands on his firm ass so I'm able to push myself up slightly. I shake my still aching head until my hair falls out of my face and my gaze connects with Eli's. He's staring at me with a Cheshire grin, those dimples winking at me and turning my insides to goo. He doesn't make a move to help, though. Oh, no. That bastard just stands there with his gorgeous, tattoo covered arms crossed, watching the entire show like it's the best thing he's seen in... well, ever.

  "Traitor," I growl at him.

  Asher shuffles me on his shoulder before he begins his walk to whoever the fuck knows where, and I lose grip of his ass, falling back down with my hair swinging wildly with the movement of his stride. I don't miss Eli's infectious laugh, however, which makes me glad he can't see my face when a smile blooms across my mouth.

  I grab hold of Asher’s behind again as he goes, lifting myself up awkwardly. This time I spot Noah, who looks on at us with amusement. Devon is watching with a straight face, but I can't mistake the twinkle in his eye that tells me he's enjoying the show just as much as the others.

  "Assholes!" I declare before I'm carried upstairs and into my bedroom, the sounds of their laughter blessing my eardrums. Even Devon's, surprisingly enough.

  Asher moves into my room and spins around so I'm facing the inside. I hear the door shut closed and the next thing I know, I'm airborne. I'm flying through the air until my back suddenly crashes down onto the soft duvet that covers my mattress.

  "Alright, you damn caveman! You didn't have to man handle me and then launch me in the air!" I yell at him, trying to untangle myself from the duvet that's twisted around my body with the fall. "Why can't I unwrap myself?!"

  With a single yank and a whoosh of material, Asher manages to remove the duvet from around me and holds it in his hand with an eyebrow raise.

  "I'm calling that a fluke. I did most of the work to untangle myself," I respond indignantly, narrowing my eyes at the face of the Angel who's looking a little too smug for my liking.

  Returning his eyebrow raise, I ask, "Want to tell me why you just carted me to my room like a Neanderthal?"

  He just stares at me for a moment, before he pulls my boots and socks off, throwing them behind him where they thud into the wall and fall to the floor. He then turns to sit on the bed and removes his own boots and socks in complete silence, before standing and turning to face me.

  "Asher? I need an explanation here," I push, but it seems as though I'm getting the silent treatment from the angry Angel.

  I go to open my mouth to ask him again for a reason for his brand of crazy right now, but he renders me speechless when he climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body until he hovers above me. My breath catches in my throat and my heart beats double time. If it’s quiet enough, I'm sure I'll hear the thundering thumps crashing into my ribs.

  He leans in close, his nose almost touching mine, his minty breath fanning across my now parted lips. I'm so surprised when he talks that I jump, his gruff voice sending tingling shivers down my spine. "Don't ever do that again."

  I can do nothing but stare at his lips when he talks, so entranced by the way they move that I can only whisper, "Do what?"

  "Don't run off without us, or without telling us. Don't run off without your cell again. Don't run off and come home acting nonchalant after who the fuck knows what happened to you. Don't do that to us again, you hear? Don't do that to me," he gravels out, his voice tense with restrained emotion.

  My eyes flicker to his and my breath catches for a second time. The intensity that he stares at me with sets my insides on fire. He was that worried? He cares that much that he threw me over his shoulder to lock me away and ask me never to leave without telling him. Despite the little amount of time we’ve known one another, I’ve grown to care for him. It’s nice to see that the feeling is mutual, even if the delivery is a little crazed.

  I swallow audibly before lifting my right hand and pressing it against the side of his face, his two days’ worth of stubble grazing my palm. Feeling like I owe him nothing less, I stare him in the eye, lift my left hand and motion an X above the left side of my chest. I can see the silver glow reflecting in his eyes before I slowly promise, "I swear to never leave again without taking proper precautions."

  The glow fades into my skin and settles just beneath the surface. With my promise, something changes in Asher's gaze. No longer is he holding back the panic and worry, because it's been replaced by something much, much better. His eyes bore into me, filled with unadulterated heat and desire. My body lights up from the inside out, sparks of need flaring up inside me without warning.

  "Is this the part where you kiss me now? Because I think I need you to kiss me. This very
second," I mumble, my eyes dropping back to his lips that pull into a small smirk. The teasing, the looks he gives me when he thinks I can’t see him watching, and the stupid amount of time I’ve spent staring at the piece of prime perfection has finally caught up to me. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m pretty confident I’ll go out of my damn mind.

  Luckily for me, he doesn't waste another second.

  His mouth crashes into mine, setting my body alight from the inside out. His soft lips part against mine and his tongue sneaks out to lick my bottom lip before capturing it between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from deep within my chest. His tongue invades my mouth with sensual strokes, my tongue tangling with his. I kiss him back with equal vigor, my hand sneaking around his head to grasp a handful of his dark hair.

  I give his hair a sharp tug, pulling him closer to me. A sexy growl vibrates in his chest, and he leans more of his weight on top of me, pinning me securely to the bed. His left hand trails a slow line towards the crook of my knee, pulling up my thigh until it rests high on his waist. Using the heels of my feet that rest on his ass, I tug him even closer until there's no space between his body and mine, feeling every inch of him pressed up against me.

  The large hand still hooked under my knee travels up my thigh, raising my dress until the lower half of my body is bare, save for my quickly dampening panties. His hand keeps moving upwards with painstaking patience, until my dress rests just under my braless breasts and his calloused palm firmly wraps around my ribs.