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Only the Fallen (UnHallowed Series Book 1)

Page 3

by Tmonique Stephens


  Not if I can help it.

  He tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat, next to the vial secreted there.

  Eyes were on him.

  His head snapped up to the window on the second level. The boy watched, waved. Damn kids. They see everything.

  Gideon returned the gesture, then fled before the rising sun turned him to ashes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dina barged into the chancellor’s suite. She swept past Aron, who surged to his feet much too late to stop her, and flung open the door to the inner office. An empty room pierced the bubble of expectation, yet increased her anger.

  “Where is he?” She turned on Aron and demanded.

  “You come into this office with a sword in your hand. Where is your respect?” he said with disdain.

  His reprimand fell on deaf ears. “My respect will return with a simple explanation.” She returned in his tone. “What is an UnHallowed?”

  Surprise flashed across Aron’s face and quickly vanished. His reaction answered more questions than she would ever willingly receive from the chancellor’s assistant. A flick of her wrist and her blade went to Aron’s throat. His glare spoke volumes, though he had the good sense to not try her patience and move.

  “Countless times I pleaded with the chancellor to peel away the veil and tell warriors about the existence of the UnHallowed. Frankly, I’m puzzled as to how it remained a secret this long.” He glanced at the blade and Dina acquiesced. She removed the edge from his throat—but not far.

  “You speak as if there is more than one.” There couldn’t be. Simply couldn’t.

  He pivoted and gave her his back. Sparks flew from her sword striking the stone floor.

  “How many do they number, Aron?” It was a demand and one he’d better answer.

  “How many fell, Dina?”

  She darted in front of him, wouldn’t let him dismiss her. “That is not an answer when Darklings were once angels and what the humans become when they don’t ascend!”

  “Why did Metatron fall?”

  Now he spoke in riddles. “No one knows why he fell. The answer to that question was lost to the ages.”

  Aron snorted. “I am surprised you didn’t uncover the answer in the archives you love so much.”

  Dina turned to leave. “I return when the chancellor returns. He will answer my questions without smoke clouding the truth.”

  “The chancellor is missing.”

  Dina halted. Distraught or giddy, his monotone voice gave no clue.

  “For seven moons.”

  She peered over her shoulder at him.

  Still as stone, only his lips moved. “Everyone is searching for him while you leave the school on an unauthorized mission.”

  How dare he judge her. “That mission was to find the Cruor.” Yet guilt tainted her words. Could the chancellor be hurt? Was it even possible?

  “And did you find our Holy Grail which validates our very existence? No. You did not because that would be the first words out of your mouth.” He walked around the table and sat behind the ornate desk.

  “I found the Cruor.” She stood on the other side, the distance between them may as well be miles rather than a few feet.

  “I find meaning in your silence.” He arranged the folds of his robe. “What prompts this line of questioning, Dina?”

  Should I tell him? No. He did not have her trust.

  “You met one.” He answered for her, his tone deadpan. “I hope you killed it.”

  “Hope and skill are at opposite ends of the spectrum, Aron.” She prayed he didn’t detect her deflection, she couldn’t lie. “Information, Aron. That is what I came here to obtain.”

  His cold gaze raked her and she suspected he knew the truth. She hadn’t killed Gideon. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t…if she had too. Unless Aron asked directly, she would deflect until they both died from old age. An impossibility.

  “The truth about the UnHallowed resides in the archives. Now leave. I must join the search.” His attention dropped to the scrolls on his desk.

  She should offer to help. The chancellor was vital to the school. The one constant. His stalwart conviction to finding the Cruor and ending the danger to Heaven and Earth had always been his first priority. The chancellor in danger placed all of them in jeopardy.

  But secrets waited in the archives. Secrets that teased her with imaginary answers to newly born questions whispered in her ears.

  Dina dashed out of the nearest window and took a circulatory route over the dormitory and the practice fields, to land on the steps of the archives. She folded her wings close to her body, but didn’t send them away. The archives weren’t a mystery to her, that’s what she thought after spending more than a century digging through the many tomes.

  So many details, so many secrets she’d uncovered...not everything though. Not the truly important information. Now she understood why she was denied access to view the tomes in the restricted section.

  Dina marched through the rotunda and down the center aisle. The vastness of the archives never failed to impress, until today. She zipped past aisles of stacked books until everything blurred in a dizzying array. All except the scrolled gate at the very back of the building where she finally stopped.

  “Dina.”

  She ignored the call of the archivist.

  “Warrior?” The archivist rushed toward her. Her white and blue robe flapping ungracefully. A former Comfort, calming waves emanated from her, though worry drew her face tight. “You present yourself to this hall of study dressed in the raiment’s of war?” Her pointed gaze dipped to the sword clutched in Dina’s hand.

  Dina followed the angel’s gaze. She didn’t see her Empyreal weapon. She saw the grayish residue of Gideon’s essence clinging to the silver surface.

  “Apologies.” Dina gave a clipped bow, yet kept her blade visible. “I seek access to the restricted area.”

  The censure on the archivist’s face remained as she folded her arms and locked her spine. “As you well know, the area is restricted to all except myself and the chancellor.”

  “The chancellor is missing.”

  “I’ve been informed.” Her sober visage didn’t change, as if they spoke of the weather, not the man charged with the school’s well-being.

  “That leaves you as the only one with access?” Dina prompted and received a curt nod. She approached the gate and wasn’t surprised when they didn’t swing open at her presence or when she twisted the handle with no results. “Open it.”

  “You are not permitted inside.” Again, calming waves washed over Dina.

  Sparks flew at the first strike of her blade to the gate.

  “Cease! Cease, I say!” The archivist fluttered around Dina like a wounded bird, surprised her tactic hadn’t worked.

  Dina’s blows drowned out the woman’s cries until finally, the archivist said, “Open.”

  The twisted metal groaned as it struggled to obey its mistress’s command, but open it did.

  “Much gratitude.” Dina gave another clipped bow, then grabbed her protesting host by the arm and hauled her inside the austere space.

  “When last did you visit this place?” Dina paused by the only desk and studied the twenty rows of shelves arrayed in a semi-circle.

  “I have no reason to visit here.” The archivist huffed.

  How foolish. All this knowledge wasted. “Appear for my inspection, a tome on the UnHallowed,” Dina called out. That was all that was necessary for the book to manifest on the table in front of her. Her command went unfulfilled.

  She turned to the archivist. “Present my request.”

  “No.”

  Dina raised her blade.

  “You would strike one who is unarmed and no threat, Dina?” The archivist shook her head. “You are a warrior, not a murderer.”

  Right now, Dina wasn’t sure what she was or what she was about to become. And that terrified her.

  She lowered her weapon. “Present my request, plea
se, Mistress of the Archive. The information I seek is more than necessary. It is vital.”

  “For the good of the school, or your personal gratification?”

  At this moment, if she could lie, she would have. “…my gratification only.”

  Taut seconds ratcheted the tension between them. If it took examining every tome in the archive to get the information she needed, so be it. She sent a silent prayer that would not be the case.

  “Present to me the tome on the UnHallowed.” The archivist’s voice echoed through the space as Dina’s voice had not. The book appeared without fanfare on the desk, already open, passage highlighted. “I have not known you as long as the previous Mistress of the Archive, only a few decades. In that time, I have seen your diligence. I have seen your fortitude against the obstacles placed in your path. In addition, before she passed to the next level, Mistress Anne, requested I personally give you all the aide you needed, when you needed it.”

  That shouldn’t have surprised Dina. Many times Mistress Anne had chased Dina out of the stacks when she’d lost days absorbed in the books. Friendly isn’t a word Dina would associate with the woman. But she was caring, in her own way. Looked out for her, again, in her own way.

  “Thank you, Mistress Collete. I will not forget your kindness.”

  “I will not forget my destroyed gate.” Collete pivoted. “I leave you to it.” And she strode from the room.

  Dina place her sword on the desk beside her, sat, and pulled the tome closer. The words leaped off the pages. First, the names of the all the fallen. Pages and pages of them. Next, the list of the names of the elite force of the Celestial Army. Forty names, only a few she knew. On the opposite page, a list of the UnHallowed.

  Unsteady, whether from the surface roiling beneath her feet or her limbs quivering, Dina rose. She clutched the desk for support and managed to lock her knees. The words on the page imprinted on her brain. She gripped her sword. The cold steel brought clarity. The grayish essence brought reality. And a choice.

  She could close the book, leave the archives, and forget everything she just read. Or…

  Her gaze dropped to the leavings on her blade. She traced her fingers through the grayish essence, felt the darkness thriving in the substance...and the smidgen of light. How was this possible? Darklings didn’t have light—grace.

  He’s not a Darkling. He’s UnHallowed.

  Forgetting everything she’d read wasn’t possible when the truth wore Gideon’s face. Dina smeared the leavings on the back of her hand and learned the location of its owner. Tonight, she would have her answers.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Gideon materialized in the middle of a parking lot on Decker Street, away from the halogen lights, shadowed by a nude tree. Still as stone, listening to the sounds of the city–the rumble of cars on the highway overpass a few yards away, the warble of a siren peaking and then fading, combined with the squeal of a shopping cart pushed by a homeless man. A fine drizzle had started, adding another layer of protection from the rising sun.

  He filtered all that out and paid attention for the tell-tale hum in his veins signaling a Darkling approaching. None were in the vicinity though they inhabited the city, their population grew nightly.

  The Cruor.

  That was the largest portal he’d seen on this continent in centuries. Their size, strength, and frequency were increasing. Most were small postcard sized doorways, allowing no more than thirty to stream through before it snapped shut. The power of the Cruor so weak, they were undetectable less than two yards away.

  His hand strayed to the vial in his breast pocket next to the feather. Dread filled his chest. He had to find it.

  Had to close it.

  Maybe that would be enough to save her.

  Gideon shook his head to clear his sudden one track mind. Closing the Cruor was more important than saving Dina. It was about all of them–angels, UnHallowed, and humans.

  It should be simple enough. He had the most important piece. Now, all he needed was the Cruor and enough time to do what was required.

  Her feather brushed his fingers and the unwanted image of Dina stabbed his brain. The cream of her skin awash from the light spilling from the Cruor. The silk of her reddish-brown hair, the determination in her gold rimmed, peridot eyes. The smell of the sun on her flesh.

  It was all too much for one man to have after lifetimes of abstinence from the one drug he craved above all others. He shook his head and forced the image of her away. The distraction had to end. Over. Done. Dina was back in Heaven. Where she belonged.

  He managed to only think of her in the deepest of the night when he relinquished the stranglehold he’d placed on his memories of her. He would not think of her now.

  “I need a drink,” he said to no one and glanced at the dive bar next to the training center. Six a.m. and the place was still going. Too bad. In his present mood, the last thing he needed was to mingle with humans. His shoulders burned. The sun wouldn’t wait. Keeping to the shadows, he traversed the parking lot and entered the training center where the tinted windows were specially made for his kind.

  Gideon paused in a corner and watched Scarla flip her best friend onto a padded mat.

  Scarla leaned over her. “See how easy that was?”

  Sophie groaned and pushed into a seated position. “And you expect me to do that? With my bad back?”

  “Yes.” Scarla took the young woman’s arm and hauled her to her feet. “Now, remember what I taught you. It’s all about leverage and you can toss me.”

  Sophie shook her head, sending her dyed burgundy hair flying, and her scrambling to pin it back up. Gideon folded the shadows around him and moved to the back of the building. Scarla’s head jerked his way, her gaze zeroed in on him. He spared her a smile and received one in return before she returned her attention to her friend. “All right, Sophie. You are doing this. Are you ready?”

  Sophie sighed and got into position. “Yep.”

  Scarla didn’t seem convinced and neither did Gideon, but that wasn’t his problem. He continued through the closed door at the rear, past the locker rooms, into the cluttered office, and through the back wall.

  He hoped he would find solitude here. He should’ve known better. Chayyliél was snug in his favorite chair, watching The Godfather for the one-thousandth time. Instead of walking the few feet to his bedroom, Gideon found himself on the opposite end of the sofa, waiting for Michael to give his brother Fredo the kiss of death.

  “Fucking Fredo. I wish I could’ve killed him myself.” Chay chugged a drink from the bottle in his hand.

  “You’re missing the fun in there.” Gideon pointed to the training center.

  “No, I’m not. Don’t want to see Sophie get her ass kicked.”

  So, he was still resisting the little human. Good. UnHallowed and humans shouldn’t mix.

  Chay passed over the bottle. Gideon glanced at the label and raised an eyebrow at the expensive Japanese whiskey. “Hibiki. This is a step up from your usual. What’s the occasion?”

  Chay’s answer was stretching his booted feet out on the coffee table. Gideon tipped the bottle to his lips and drank deeply. Damn the liquor was smooth and landed in his gut with a warm burn. He couldn’t get drunk, not from regular libations, but he did enjoy the taste. A lot. Good thing they owned the bar next door.

  “Rough day, honey?”

  ‘Rough’ wasn’t an adequate word to sum up his day. “Are we the only ones here?” Chay had a private suite along with Gideon and Scarla, add in the additional bedrooms, bathrooms, spa and pool, honeycombed throughout the underground facility, the place doubled as a functioning fortress and a retreat. The façade was the training center, which Scarla ran; Tahariél owned the dive bar next door, but Chay oversaw it when he chose.

  “For the moment, we’re the only three.” Chay gave Gideon a pointed stare that told him more UnHallowed were expected. The reason: the Cruor. The presence of the Darkling Gateway drew them like flies to a carcass
. Not all of them, though. Chay never left the underground sanctuary. He didn’t give a damn about the world on the other side of the wall. His words. Chay didn’t lift his ass if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Nothing moved him. Unity got them cast out of Heaven. Since then, it was to each his own, with the occasional exception.

  “Fail, huh?” Chay snickered.

  Gideon’s glare was his answer.

  “When are you gonna learn? It’s better to not give a fuck.”

  Gideon gritted his teeth. “I found the Cruor, but didn’t have a chance to close it.”

  Chay snatched the bottle back. “Darkling?” He took another swig.

  Gideon nodded. Among other things…a certain angel. He kept that pertinent info to himself.

  “Still unwilling to share the deets.” Chay pressed, then sighed, and let his head drop to the back of the chair. “I’ll stop with the nagging wife routine.”

  “Halle-fucking-lujah. Every year you get more domestic. Next, I’m gonna find you in the kitchen with an apron and a spoon.”

  Gideon wasn’t joking. Ever since Chay found infant Scarla abandoned in a snowy field, he’d become the conscience of the group. Albeit, the lazy conscience. Her outraged cries drew him. Those cries ended when he picked her up.

  The state took over her care and it didn’t take long for the blond-haired, caramel-eyed girl to find a home. Soon after the adoption, the parents realized the child needed more. In stepped Chay. While the very human parents slept snuggled in their beds, he cradled the child, soothed her when her adoptive parents couldn’t.

  That was the most activity Gideon had ever seen out of Chay since the Fall. Taking care of Scarla, making sure she reached adulthood…By all rules of the UnHallowed, the infant should have been slaughtered on sight. She was an abomination, especially since she was part of them.

  She never knew her father. His death ensured the Demoni Lords could not cross through the Cruor. His sacrifice ensured her safety. None would harm her while any of the UnHallowed lived. She was now the adopted daughter of their little band of five UnHallowed. Bane, Sam, and Riél the three not present.

 

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