The Fallen One

by C. R. Jane

  “I hope you don’t actually believe that,” I tell her seriously. “This rivals any artwork I have ever seen, and I have seen all the greats,” I tell her. That deep red flush is present in her cheeks as her eyes fill with hope.

  “You really think so?” she asks.

  I ignore her question and begin to rifle through the trunk, trying to see if there is any other buried treasure within its depths. Much to my delight I find several more parchment papers filled with paintings even better than the first. There’s a self-portrait that she must have done while standing in front of a mirror. She has somehow perfectly captured the insecurity and loneliness so present in her eyes and I like that she painted herself as she really looked, imperfections and all. There’s another of a river that I have a sneaking suspicion is the one that she saved me from. I give an involuntary shudder as I think about the fact that I almost drowned. I’ve never really feared death in all of the battles I have fought since I’ve always had no doubt about my physical prowess. This experience has shaken me however. Angels may be immortal, but we also have no soul. Which means if I did die, I would cease to exist. I shudder one more time and then push it out of my mind, examining Camilla’s amazing creations closer.

  “I’m going to take this one,” I announce, rolling up the picture of the sunset.

  “You really want that?” she asks in amazement.

  I nod, and then walk out her door so that I can return and report to the council, I’ve delayed long enough.

  “Wait!” she calls out breathlessly, running out from her shanty, holding a jar of the poultice.

  I’m once again struck by this human’s generosity and the idea of never seeing her again strikes my heart. I have very few true friends in this life, much less ones who would save my life let alone a stranger’s life. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I secretly visited her.

  I take the jar and hold out my hand, unsure what the human custom is for saying goodbye to someone who saved your life.

  “Will I see you again?” she asks mournfully, the loneliness seeping out of her.

  I internally debate what to say. If the rest of the council finds out, there will be hell to pay. But I don’t see why I can’t have friendship with Camilla. The main goal behind the policy is to prevent us from fucking humans so we don’t create any half angel/half human monsters. But that’s easy enough to control since angels choose when they reproduce. Plus, there’s not an ounce of me that wants to go there with Camilla. She’s more like…what I imagine a little sister feels like. Not that angels have little sisters, but I’m sure I can imagine it.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll stop by with some new painting supplies sometime soon,” I tell her. Talent like hers shouldn’t be wasted. Her face lights up, making me smile. I give her hand a shake and push off from the ground, my wings still aching a little bit from the trauma they have been through.

  As I glide through the air, my thoughts return to the attack by the Fallen. I’ve never seen so many attack at once. It’s almost like I was lured into a trap, but it’s hard to believe that they would plan something like that on their own. One thing about the Fallen, they are extremely selfish, taking pride in individual pursuits rather than team pursuits. I’m therefore suspicious that someone else is behind it. I have many an enemy, but not really any that I could see planning such a successful venture. I think I might stick to the buddy system for a while. Even with Torin’s lackluster fighting skills, two people going against that many Fallen would have been much better than one.

  I finally arrive at our compound, and by compound, I mean the giant palace the council calls our home. It’s a towering, white, marble structure filled with arches and turrets that allow for easy flying in and out. It’s located on a remote mountain peak. The locals in the area perpetuate stories that the mountain is haunted keeping most humans away from it. The palace has every luxury that can be made from the resources available on the planet, but it still lacks many of the things we enjoyed in Paradise. I fly in through one of the arches on the fifth level where a large gathering room is located. The whole council is gathered, many are shouting in a rare show of emotion. Angels aren’t known for displaying much emotion. Surprisingly, Torin seems to be heading up the meeting. He’s the last person that I would see filling a leadership void, and a little sliver of doubt starts to grow inside of me.

  Lathan is the first to notice my presence. “Damon!” he cries, rushing over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Where have you been?” he asks.

  My attention is focused on Torin however. Lathan’s shout alerted him to my arrival and I watch an array of emotions pass over his face. None of them the relief you would expect your best friend to display when you come back from the dead. He quickly schools his face however when he sees me watching and hurries over to me to stand by Lathan and clasp my shoulder as well. He then pulls me into what seems like a relieved hug.

  “We were just about to send out a search party,” Torin tells me. “We’ve all been so worried!”

  I push aside my suspicion. There’s no way that Torin had anything to do with this. I’ve known him since the beginning of my existence. I’ve never seen him do anything remotely in the league of what the Fallen attacks would entail.

  I push my way into the middle of the room where my head of the council chair sits, a chair that Torin was occupying when I first arrived. “I was attacked by the Fallen,” I tell the group bluntly once everyone is seated.

  “We’re attacked by the Fallen every day. What was so different that you would have trouble?” asks Lathan.

  “I was attacked by at least a few hundred Fallen…at once,” I answer. The room is silent for a moment before everyone begins talking simultaneously.

  “How did you survive that?” calls out Arthur. “Even with your talent and abilities, odds like that would have been impossible.”

  I struggle with how to answer. Something inside of me wants to keep little Camilla a secret. Although I doubt anyone would voice disapproval of my fraternization with a human considering the circumstances, I know that everyone’s opinion of humans mirrors my own, or at least my old opinion. It feels like it would be a slap in the face to the selfless gift that Camilla gave me to talk about her in this crowd.

  “I’m not sure how,” I answer, giving him at least a half truth since I don’t know how I escaped that many Fallen. “I fainted due to the blood loss. It took a few days of going in and out of consciousness before I healed enough to return.”

  “A miracle,” says Lathan, in awe. I nod reluctantly. Perhaps it was a miracle, but it was one that can be attributed to an awkwardly charming human girl rather than the heavens above.

  Changing the subject, I begin giving out orders. “We will need to begin ongoing extra surveillance immediately. We will work in shifts with a team always patrolling. There is obviously something else going on besides a fight for souls if they are working together. Everyone is also to abide by the partner rule and make sure that someone is with them at all times when they go on missions.”

  “Why were you alone?” asks Lathan, looking at Torin angrily.

  Before I can answer Torin pipes up. “We had heard of two situations that needed monitoring with the Fallen and decided to split up,” he states hurriedly. “I never in a million years thought Damon of all people would be in danger. He’s the best fighter of us all.”

  I look at him in disbelief. The fact that Torin is lying right now means that he wasn’t asked to go help another team. I’m angry, furious in fact, because I know whatever the real reason was that he ducked out of rounds, it’s not going to be a good enough excuse for the fact that I almost died. There’s no getting around the fact that my best friend is lazy and selfish.

  “I’m going to go to bed so that I can finish healing. Lathan, you and Heinrick are on patrol first. Wake me if you find anything suspicious before engaging. I was lured into a secluded glen in the middle of Blackwood Forest. Keep your wits about you at
all times.”

  Everyone in the room nods in acknowledgment. A few come over to murmur good tidings to me before they leave the room. I intentionally avoid eye contact with Torin knowing that he will get the message that he is in trouble. I’ve always been so tolerant of Torin’s faults, willing to overlook them because I’ve always believed he would do anything for me. My eyes are finally opening to the fact that I can’t go easy on him anymore. If it had been anyone else ambushed on the council, they would have died.

  I stalk out of the main room, my wings snapping out as I soar to the top level of the palace where my rooms are. There is no other word that fits my chamber better than opulent. Everything is of the nicest material available on earth and no expense has been spared to make sure I feel like the superior creature that I am. I feel a twinge of guilt when I think about Camilla’s shithole shanty. I make a decision that I will see her again and I will make sure that her life improves.

  A knock on the door rattles through the living room portion of my chambers. “Come in,” I call out, knowing that it’s Torin here to beg and worm his way back into my good graces.

  Torin enters the room, his easy-going grin lighting up his face until he sees how serious my face is. “I just want to explain,” he tells me.

  “Explain why you lied and almost got me killed?”

  ”You can’t stand there and act like I should have anticipated that a few hundred Fallen were going to lure you into a trap and almost kill you. The most we’ve ever seen working in tandem was four or five, a number that’s child’s play for you.”

  I stare unflinchingly at him, unwilling to give him the forgiveness he wants at the moment. “Where were you really Torin?” I ask him again.

  “There’s a girl,” he says shrugging his shoulders bashfully.

  “You have got to be shitting me.”

  “She’s not just any girl, she’s the one,” he argues. “She’s my mate.”

  Despite my best intentions my heart softens a bit. I know realistically that whatever wood nymph or other creature he’s hooking up with is most likely not his fated mate, Torin is a slut if there ever was one. Anything with boobs catches his eye. But he hasn’t claimed that any of them are his fated mate before. So the fact that he is even thinking that is a big deal. As angels we only have one fated mate. We often spend millennia looking for them though so ultimately many angels have quite a bit of extracurricular experience before their one and only is found. I’ve never met anyone who even remotely made me question whether they are the one though.

  “She’s human,” he spits out reluctantly.

  I’m floored. It goes against every rule we’ve made for ourselves to have relations with a human, and there’s no way that a human would be his fated mate. Or at least I think there’s no way. It would just be another way that angels could be screwed over by the heavens if we were matched with a creature with such a small lifespan.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him wearily. “If you’re caught, you will be immediately kicked off the council.”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he spits out defensively. I think of Camilla. There’s a fragile elegance about humans that pulls at you. Perhaps Torin could fall in love with one.

  “So you lied to me to go meet up with your lover?” I ask stubbornly, my rage abated somewhat.

  “Brother,” he says. “You know I would do anything for you, but I’ve been worried with the escalation of the Fallen attacks that somehow she would be caught up in the cross fire. I’ve been trying to find a safe house for her and a suitable hiding place became available that day. I never knew I was potentially choosing between you or her that day or I would have done it after we returned from patrols,” he pleads with me.

  That little seed of doubt from earlier grows just a bit larger. Not once has Torin ever seemed worried about the escalation of the Fallen attacks. He’s far better of a liar than I’ve ever given him credit for. If he fooled me about all of that, what else could he potentially be hiding from me? My line of thinking is cut off by his next statement.

  “You need to tell me everything that happened. I’m going to be haunted by this for the rest of my existence,” he tells me dramatically, his face the picture of brotherly concern.

  “They lured me in,” I begin reluctantly. “I saw something flashing as I was flying my route and I went down to investigate. Rookie mistake.”

  Torin frowns sympathetically.

  “As soon as I landed I realized something was wrong…it was too quiet. And that’s when the attack began.”

  “But how did you survive?” he asks, sounding frustrated.

  “I almost didn’t,” I admit reluctantly. “I was able to drag myself away when the Fallen tried to pile on top of me. I hid in a cave for probably a night, and then I tried to make my way home.”

  “Tried to make your way home? Didn’t you succeed?” he asks.

  “I missed the fact that I was right by a ravine and fell in a river. I almost drowned.”

  “You’re leaving something out,” Torin says, studying my face.

  I’m torn. I tell Torin everything, I always have. And he’s told me about his human lover so it shouldn’t be a big deal to tell him about Camilla. I feel protective of her though.

  “Damon?” Torin prods.

  “I was rescued by a human girl,” I reluctantly admit.

  “You were rescued by a human?” Torin looks dumbfounded by my revelation and a little red in the face if I’m being honest with myself. “I can honestly say I would never have expected those words to come out of your mouth. Is she hot?”

  I roll my eyes at him. Of course, that would be the first thing he asks. I feel a slice of guilt cut across me. Isn’t that the first thing I usually ask?

  “It’s not like that. She’s…different. She’s an artist, and a healer. She rescued me even though my wings were out and I’m sure she was scared to death.”

  Torin is examining me closely. “You really care for this girl, don’t you?” I say nothing. My feelings towards the little human are new and unfamiliar.

  “Well that settles it. I want to meet her,” he says suddenly.

  “Not happening,” I tell him. “At least right now. She’s just found out that humans aren’t alone in the world. I don’t think now’s the time to inundate her with more angels. Besides, I just put everyone down on lockdown until the Fallen situation has been managed. I doubt I will be able to get away to go visit her anytime soon.”

  “Well put me down on the visitor list whenever you decide to open it up for business,” he tells me sarcastically, clapping me on the back. “Now go to bed, you look like shit,” he throws over his shoulder as he strides out of the room.

  Later that night I realize that he never told me the name of his human lover, or offered to let me meet her. What does that mean? I finally drift off to sleep, my dreams filled with the Fallen and a little red headed girl with a crooked smile.

  Chapter 6

  After

  Eva’s fallen asleep again. I find it amusing and endearing that she can’t last through a movie without drifting off. I study her features, in awe as usual that any creature could look so perfect. Even in her sleep she has that soft glow that would signal to any supernatural with half a brain that she is one of us. The crazy thing about Eva is that she has a soul. I suppose in a horribly fucked up way it was probably good for her that she was with those terrible people for so long. There’s no way that someone who looks like her wouldn’t have had her head turned if she had constantly been worshipped for her entire life. Instead, because of, or in spite of her past (take your pick), her soul seems as perfect as her beauty.

  All of my romanticizing doesn’t make up for the fact that my dick is throbbing. It literally feels like I’m being tortured right now. It’s the most pleasurable form of torture to kiss Eva, but I’m really hoping we can go further soon. I could tell she wanted more tonight but I’m so scared of pushing her further than she’s ready for that I stoppe
d us before anything could really begin. I’ve been trying to let her know every day how I feel so that she can be secure that I want her for more than her body. A part of me is also nervous to go further because I don’t know what her asshole foster dad was like, and I have a sneaking suspicion he liked her in a way that went way beyond the usual familial bond. If I find out he did something …I think I will hunt him down and kill him. I take deep breaths, trying to tamper the murderous rage that sometimes overtakes me ever since what happened to Camilla. It takes a moment, but the quiet sound of Eva’s breathing lulls me into a deep sleep.

  I’m following Eva down a brightly lit hallway. She turns her head to glance back at me, a loving smile on her face. She leads me into a room whose walls sparkle like they are embedded with diamonds. An enormous, sleekly, modern bed is situated in the middle of the room. I’ve been trying to avoid bedrooms with Eva as of late since it only makes it harder to delay taking the next step, but now she’s led me right into the mouth of the beast. I notice for the first time that she’s wearing one of my dress shirts. It fits extra-large on her but still manages to make my groin tighten with need at the sight of her sexy legs that go on for miles…and the thought that she could be naked underneath. She notices my predicament and a sly grin slides onto her face, her tongue peeking out to slightly moisten her bottom lip. I’m dying at this point. She walks slowly over to me, undoing one button at a time as she does so. I’m trembling in anticipation at this point, I’ve waited so long for anything to happen between us. Her sexy-as-sin skin is unveiled inch by inch as she slowly goes down the row of buttons. I’ve never seen someone make undressing so desirable. She finally gets to the point where the shirt is sliding down her shoulders, her delicate collar bone and the tops of her perfect breasts are now visible, and I salivate as she undoes the last crucial button…

  “Damon?” calls a voice.