Flawed Angel (The Fall Book 1)

by J. J. Dean

  I move with my sword with effortless ease, impaling and slicing any creature that comes close enough. The ground is littered with blood, the air filled with the stench of rotting corpses, but I don't have the luxury of gazing at my surroundings. The Hellspawn keep coming, never faltering in their brutal attack.

  With deft movements, I've taken down at least a dozen monsters with extreme precision. Heads roll, limbs are sliced and thrown in every direction, but my focus is on the mosterous stampede.

  When there’s a brief pause in the attacks, my eyes find Eli and Asher back to back, fighting off their own hoard of beasts. I catch Devon cutting his way through them with his axe, avoiding the knife-like teeth and claws. I notice absently that as he fights, he seems to be moving closer to where I last saw Luna.

  My attention is drawn back to the next wave of Hellspawn heading towards me, slipping through the blood and pushing through the gore already coating the once pristine floor. My sword swings and slashes almost like it has a mind of its own, but I know it's down to the training every Angel had just before the Reaping. It makes me wonder if He saw this coming and prepared us all should we need it.

  I can't really complain when a set of disgusting black nails comes swinging for my neck. I'm lifting my sword just in time to intercept the move, cutting the Hellspawn's arm off at the elbow. Just as the arm hits the floor, the monster’s other arm is flying towards me, not once missing a beat despite being short of a limb. I repeat the same motion, swinging my sword up in an arc, slicing the arm that almost nicked me at the elbow. I follow it with a brutal upper slice of my sword that cuts the creature in half. Literally.

  I stumble backwards and gag when one half of the body slides away from the other and I'm forced to turn around when putrid organs tumble out in a mess of blood and decay.

  When no more attacks happen in my corner, I turn towards where I assume the counter sits, only to find the other three Angels huddled together, surrounded by Hellspawn. Luna and Ms. Frenchie aren't anywhere in sight, so I can only hope they escaped and found somewhere safe to stay.

  Hoping to high Heavens, I jump into the fray with the others, creating a circle with our bodies once I've butchered my way through the throngs of creatures lining the coffee shop.

  The Hellspawn creep closer and closer, arms poised to attack at any moment. We're outnumbered, that much is glaringly obvious. Not a space in the store isn't occupied by Hellspawn, even more than I initially thought. Even with our advanced weaponry and expert training, we're no match for the numbers they have on us. Four against however many are surrounding us is enough to make me realize we've already lost. But I'll Fall before I let them take us down without a fight.

  My only hope is that Luna is safe.

  In a blink, they attack with a worrisome synchrony that I'd never thought they'd be capable of, blocking any spaces that could be used as a way to escape. They shape their bodies in ways that surround us completely, leaving no space for even the slightest attempt to use against them.

  In a flurry of movement, they begin climbing one another to get to us, as though a switch has been flipped and they're back to their feral ways. The other Angels and I are swinging our weapons wildly, trying to incapacitate any monster that comes near enough. The sound of iron connecting with brittle bones, the splatter of blood with every slice of knives and the smell of the bitter, coppery tang of their blood fills the air around us. Sadly, with every creature we slice down, another appears just as fast, like there's an army on standby just outside the building.

  Just as I'm prepared to acknowledge that we've been defeated with the more Hellspawn pour into the small building, they all suddenly freeze where they stand. Just as quickly as they stopped, they're suddenly turning on one another, tearing into one another like savages, killing each other instead of us.

  What in the Heavens?

  Through the chaos and gore, I hear a faint noise. The sound of the most beautiful singing penetrates my earbuds and graces my eardrums. I look around while the Hellspawn attack one another, searching for the source of the singing, and when I spot Luna standing on the counter, eyes ablaze in a white flash of light, and her silver locks floating around her like there's a fan in front of her, my heart stutters. It's then I realize it's her singing. I have no idea what she's singing, but I catch the word 'battlefield' every now and then. I'd snort if I wasn't in awe of her and still worried the Hellspawn will turn against us again.

  Luna jumps off the counter and strides towards us, easily avoiding the mutilated bodies that litter the floor. She walks towards where the four of us Angels stand watching her with expressions ranging from surprise to awe to bemusement. Devon is looking fairly impressed by the silver haired beauty, which is a fair feat I never thought I'd be a witness to.

  Just before Luna reaches us, however, a Hellspawn that doesn't seem to be under whatever influence the others are under comes roaring towards her nails elongated even more than the others. Luna isn't quick enough to react, too focused on the others who are still fighting against each other.

  The Hellspawn tackles Luna from the side, knocking her to the floor with a sickening thud. Luna's quick enough to pull a dagger from who the fuck knows where and deposes of the creature swiftly. She stands a little unsteadily before facing the front of the store again. When she does, her eyes widen, and she begins her singing again.

  I turn to face the direction she'd been looking at and I realize the Hellspawn have stopped attacking each other and now face us, covered in blood and other things I don't particularly care to think about.

  There are a lot less than there had been, so the guys and I exterminate them mercilessly, making sure none leave the store alive. When the last has been taken care of, there's a resounding sigh from each of us.

  That is until another sickening thud reaches our ears.

  We all turn in tandem, facing the direction where Luna had stood. Only, she isn't standing in front of us with a playful smirk and a quip about how if she wants something handled, she'll do it herself.

  Instead, on the floor, Luna lays in a small puddle of blood.

  Luna

  My stomach is screaming at me in pain while I lay on the floor in my own blood no thanks to that fugly son of a bitch that blindsided me before I was done kicking ass without having to use my foot.

  I clutch my hands against the long gash across my abdomen where the Hellspawn caught me with its freakishly long nails before I could fuck it up with the blade that held an uncanny resemblance to the ones Eli had brandished during the fight. I have not a single clue how it got there, but it was there exactly when I needed it. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when my life quite literally depends on it.

  I hiss out a breath when I'm forced to put pressure on the wound to try and stop the flow of blood that's pouring unnaturally fast from a cut like this. Sure, I figure I'd bleed a lot given that there's a fairly large slice running across my stomach, but the blood is literally pouring from me like it wants to exit my body as fast as it can. I’m immortal, as in I live for for-fucking-ever, but I can still die from blood loss, especially when it’s at the hand of a Hellspawn. Literally.

  The bleeding doesn't slow down at all, either. Just slips away in a steady stream, uncaring whether I need it or not to live. Inconsiderate, if you ask me.

  I wouldn't be surprised if it had something with that Hellspawn's nails.

  Ugh, nasty.

  Just as my breathing becomes a little labored and shallow, I'm surrounded by a harem of delicious looking men. It really should be illegal to be that good looking. Seriously.

  Asher kneels down by my head and gently lifts me so my head can rest in his lap, just as it has every time I've been in pain, it seems. He begins his hair brushing, his hand running through my tangled locks. Eli sits to my right, next to his brother. He cups my face gently before quietly asking, "We'll get you to the hospital asap, okay? You just need to hold on until we get there. Can you do that, Flower?"

>   I give him a shaky smile at the nickname and nod, even though it doesn't feel like I'll be making it out of this room at all with the pace my blood is flowing from a wound that really shouldn't be as fatal as it seems to be.

  From the expression on Eli's face, it doesn't look as though he's buying it. Not that I blame him when he's kneeling in a puddle of my blood that just doesn't seem to want to stop.

  "Luna, I swear if you die right after we just went through all that shit, I'll find a way to bring you back to life and kill you myself," Devon says as he kneels on one knee next to my head beside Asher. His voice shakes with worry and I notice he's looking awfully concerned for someone who I thought didn't like me. He doesn't do the whole Angel promise thing, so I don't think he'll really kill me. Or is it because he doesn't want to find a way to resurrect me? Who knows? Such a confusing man.

  I give him a weak laugh, but when I do, I begin to choke, a gurgling sound coming from my throat. When I can breathe properly again, Devon leans down to wipe at my mouth. He tries to pull his hand away quickly, likely so I don't see the blood that coats his thumb.

  That's not good. As if the gaping hole in my fucking stomach wasn't bad enough.

  "If you feel like you're going to sleep, pinch one of us. We'll keep you awake. Don't go to sleep, Luna. Okay? You can't go to sleep." This comes from Noah.

  I move my head slowly to where he sits next to Devon, his eyes bloodshot and red ringed as though he's holding tightly to tears that are seconds away from spilling. His hands hover over mine that are still clutched over my stomach uselessly considering it's doing fuck all to help.

  Swallowing a couple of times to clear my throat, my voice still coms out croaky and ragged when I tell them, "The bleeding won't stop. It's not slowing down."

  I move my hands away and another flood of liquid pours from the slice at my stomach. My hands are coated in red, but Eli snatches one hand in his, holding it tightly to his chest where I feel the thrum of his heartbeat pounding quickly beneath his ribs.

  My other hand is gently picked up and held carefully in a lap. I expect my hand to rest in Noah's, but when I look over, it's Devon's fingers that are being threaded through mine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he stares at my wound.

  I look down at my stomach, noting all the blood coating my clothes.

  "This was my favorite sweater. Motherfuckers."

  A strangled laugh comes from Eli, Asher snickers and Noah chokes on the surprised laugh that leaves him. It's enough to rid him of the tears that had been teetering on the edge of his eyelids.

  "You're bleeding out and you're thinking of clothes? Why doesn't that even surprise me?" Devon comments, but there's no malice or judgement in his tone. When I look at him again, it's to see the smallest of smiles. He looks at me and gives me a nod, showing he knows that I'm clearly deflecting from the fact that I very well might die here while I lie in the coffee shop. The odds aren’t looking good.

  Typical that I pop my clogs when my life is invaded by these assholes.

  With that thought, I'm suddenly exhausted. My body feels numb and my eyelids feel too heavy. They begin to flutter closed when Asher cups my face and pulls it upwards, so I face him. "No falling to sleep, peaches. Just wait a little bit longer, okay?"

  "I'm trying," I whisper and give him a small smile.

  He nods and leans down and kisses me softly on the head.

  We sit in silence for a minute or two, Noah fussing over my stomach, doing everything he possibly can to stop the blood flow, while the others sit around me holding my hands and comforting me to the best of their ability.

  Through the numbness that's taking over my body, I remember forcing Ms. Frenchie to escape the room while I distracted the Hellspawn. The moment I stood on top of the counter, I lost sight of her. The room was crowded with creatures and blood and severed limbs, so much so that I didn't catch which direction Ms. Frenchie had escaped.

  "Where's Francis?" I croak out a whisper.

  "We'll find her, Flower. I'm sure she's safe. We just need to get you into the ambulance and to the hospital and then we'll go looking for her, okay?"

  It's then that I notice the blue and red flashing lights outside. The ambulance. What the fuck are these humans going to say about the mess in here?

  Just as I that thought crosses my mind, two paramedics are rushing through the room, weirdly using the door to get in even though there's a big fuck of a hole in the wall where the window used to be. I guess they're big on manners. Don't mind me, the woman bleeding out on the floor. Just go right ahead and use the fucking door.

  What's more confusing is that they don't seem to notice the carnage around us at all. They don't flinch at the blood coating every inch of the coffee shop. Even when one paramedic slips on a chunk of flesh, he brushes it off too easy. What the hell?

  Sadly, I don't get to think on it much longer when the blood loss becomes too much for my body to withstand. My entire body has lost all feeling, my head lolling to the side awkwardly without Asher’s help. My eyes begin to droop again, and every time my eyes close it takes longer and longer for them to open.

  The last time they close, they don't open again, despite my efforts. I can hear the guys all yelling over one another. Shouting at the paramedics to "move their slow asses" and other colorful things I'd laugh at if I had the capability.

  I vaguely hear a stranger's voice call out, "Sir, you shouldn't carry her!" but unconsciousness wins before I can catch the reply that would surely make me grin.

  ***

  An obnoxious beeping wakes me up. Clearly this is not Heaven if that annoying noise blares on and off every five fucking minutes.

  I'm slow to come to, my eyes struggling to stay open for long lengths of time what with the blinding light pouring from above me and the urge to continue sleeping. My body feels like it's been dropped from the highest cliff and into a shallow body of water. I ache everywhere.

  "Turn the light down," comes a whisper from somewhere near me. I go to find the face to match the voice, but hands are surrounding my face, halting my quest.

  I know those hands.

  The click of the light switch sounds in the mostly quiet room and I slowly open my eyes. The first thing I see when the fog fades is Asher’s handsome face. He leans down until his forehead rests on mine. "Don't you fucking dare do that again, peaches."

  Ignoring the ache in my arm, I lift my hand until it reaches around his head and my fingers bury themselves in his hair. I hold him against me for a sweet moment, neither one of us saying any more while we stay close enough that his breath feathers my dry lips. After a few more minutes, he moves away from me after giving me a kiss where his forehead rested a second before.

  Suddenly, an equally gorgeous face fills my vision, dimples and all. I can't help but grin back at the red-haired Angel. He leans down and gives me a sweet but brief kiss, before leaning back and telling me, "You're very good at scaring the shit out of us, Flower. We should get you a trophy for it."

  I go to reply to Eli’s remark, but end up coughing until I lose my breath. A cup of water is held in front of my face a second later, and Noah sweetly helps me takes a sip or two, so my throat doesn't feel like sandpaper.

  "Thank you," I whisper when Noah pulls the plastic cup away.

  He gives me a small smile with his usual blush, before leaning down and giving me a tender kiss to the side of my head. His soft command has me smiling. "Don't do that again. I think you scared a century off my life." He backs away with a small grin and sits in the chair that's on the left side of my bed. A hospital bed. Of course, because where else would one be if they'd been fatally injured and on the brink of death? The fairground?

  Before I can continue my sarcastic conversation with myself, movement to my right has my head rolling on my pillow to face the sleeping Angel holding tightly to my hand as he restlessly snoozes next to me.

  "He hasn't let go of your hand since we got here," Eli comments with a small smile. Devon hasn't let me go sin
ce arriving at the hospital? Why does that send a flurry of emotions rushing through me; confusion, giddiness and, well, more confusion.

  Devon squeezes my hand a little tighter in his sleep and moves a little closer so his head rests close to my arm, close enough that the white blonde waves of his hair tickles my skin. I can't help but smile at the notion, even if my smile is one of bemusement.

  Asher drags another chair around to place next to Eli's and plonks himself down, groaning when his back meets the back of the uncomfortable looking hospital chair. He reaches a hand out and places it on my knee underneath the blankets and gown. It's far from sexual, however. He rests his hand there with his thumb stroking gentle caresses on the outside of my knee.

  Noah shuffles closer to the edge of his seat, and clears his throat before asking, "Luna, if you're up to it, would you mind telling us what happened at Frenchie's?"

  With a confused look, I ask him, "What do you mean?"

  He shares a look with the others before explaining. "With the Hellspawn turning against each other."

  "That wasn't any of you?" I ask, making me realize I still have a lot to learn about the Angels I've grown to care a great deal for.

  Noah shakes his head in the negative, telling me it wasn't him or Devon, and Asher adds, "Wasn't us, peaches."

  “I remember singing. I remember using my Devine Melody…” I trail off as I look at the three Angels that have eyes only for me. I think on it a moment, ignoring their questioning gazes. The Hellspawn started attacking after I stood on the counter. My singing doesn't invoke that kind of reaction. I know I didn't use the other power I have. So how could they have turned against each other instead?

  It kind of reminds me of...

  "You've gone a worrying shade of white there, Flower," Eli comments.

  He's promptly ignored.