I look back at Gabe, and I see him withdraw a long sword from out of thin air. I blink and rub my eyes.
It can’t be.
Is that the sword from my nightmare?
The sword punctures the creature’s abdomen. The resulting cry of agony pierces my chest. I know I’ve experienced this situation before. Realization hits me, and my knees buckle.
“Oh, God.”
Mr. Cohen spins around when he hears my whisper. He catches me before I fall to the ground. He is telling me to breathe, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from a great distance.
The only sound I’m able to hear is the gurgling gasps of the dying creature. Unlike last time, I don’t throw up. I don’t look away. I watch the agonized, monstrous face breathe its last breath. Yet, despite their companion’s death, none of the other creatures make a move to assist. They simply stare. Their faces are void of emotion. That fact scares me more than anything.
Gabe rises to his full height and wipes the black, steaming blood off his sword on his pant leg. I pull away from Mr. Cohen and stand on my own, hugging myself for comfort.
Then, with a harsh, dead tone, Gabe shouts, “Who’s next?”
All at once, the three remaining creatures howl and turn to run. Before they can take two steps, each one of them is cut off when a flying mass lands in their path. It all happens so fast, I see one black blur and two white blurs soar across my vision.
It takes me a moment to realize the blurs belonged to the three men I’d originally ran away from. Not only did they manage to move at inhuman speeds to intercept the creatures, they did so by flying.
With wings.
Large wings.
Wings which are currently spread out behind each man’s shoulder blades as they face their opponents.
Angels… I recall Mr. Cohen’s crazed words. Only… they don’t seem as crazy now.
Am I really looking at three of God’s angels?
No one is there to catch me this time. I collapse into a shaking heap and watch as Mr. Cohen and Adrian produce blades similar to Gabe’s. All three men proceed to cut down their rival.
I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. I hover above my limp form, watching myself as I watch the men slice through the monsters. Their wings are easier to see at the elevated height. I note Mr. Cohen and his brother share matching white wings while Adrian’s are dark ebony. I think there might be hints of blue in the feathers, but it might be a trick of the setting sunlight. Yet again, I have another flash of recognition from my nightmare.
I continue to mark every possible detail about the fantastical wings when movement draws my attention away. There, creeping along Mrs. Hall’s driveway, is the fifth creature. It must’ve been hiding along the side of the home. What it waited for? I don’t have a clue.
Regardless of its intention, the creature has managed to escape the notice of the three angels currently decimating his brethren, and he is skulking closer to me with every elongated step. In fact, I see his bulging red irises locked onto me. He is purposefully approaching me. I open my mouth to shout a warning, but the creature lunges forward before I have the chance.
I snap back into my body, throw my hands out in front of me and duck, closing my eyes to brace for impact. I don’t expect the cowering move to do anything except maybe prevent its sharp talons from ripping my face open.
I am surprised when I hear the creature wail in protest. Thinking one of the men must’ve seen the impending attack and come to my rescue, I open my eyes.
My jaw pops open when I see bright, golden light shooting out of my palms. The light illuminates my surroundings, but more than that, it is illuminating the creature who attempted to attack me.
Only, illumination isn’t the right word.
I see the black, scaly skin singe from the heat of the light. The skin sloughs off and sizzles as it lands on the ground. I immediately drop my arms and look at my hands in shock. What in the heck is happening to me?
The creature continues to wail. Now, I’ve succeeded in drawing the attention of the rest of the individuals around me. The men and creatures both watch the burning monster with a variation of smugness and fear.
Then, like it never existed at all, the monster crumbles to the ground and disintegrates into thin air.
Twelve
The moment their companion disappears from sight, the creatures try to make a run for it again.
They don’t make it far.
It’s like each of the men had been taunting the monsters when they were fighting. Now, the winged fighters are done playing games. They each stab their combatant without hesitation or even a hint of remorse. Once the creatures stop squirming and their black blood stains the grass, Mr. Cohen, Gabe and Adrian walk over to me.
I’m on my knees, alternating between staring at my hands and the empty spot where the burning monster had been. I try to tell myself I imagined the whole thing. There is no way I actually shot golden fire from my hands. Though, try as I might, I cannot erase the image of the creature’s bubbling skin as it burned.
I swallow back bile.
“Veronica?”
I look up. Kind, familiar blue eyes are gazing down at me. It takes me a moment to realize Mr. Cohen is the one who said my name. He rarely, if ever, uses my first name.
My ex-physics teacher lifts a hand toward me. I cringe reflexively. His hand quickly falls back to his side. He moves away from me.
“Sorry.” I feel guilty for my reaction. I know he’s not the one who tried to attack me.
But he is the guy who broke into my house…
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Mr. Cohen replies. “Your reaction is understandable.”
I drop my eyes and nod, unable to speak.
Again, I look at my hands, remembering the seconds the light had shot through my skin. They feel and look normal. There isn’t any indication anything out of the ordinary has happened.
“It seems like your Angel Fire has developed.”
I look at Adrian. His arms are crossed, and his lips are lifted. Am I imagining it, or does he look proud?
“My what?”
“Your Angel Fire,” he repeats. Then, he extends a hand to help me up.
I stare at the offer for a second before placing my shaking hand in his. His palm is warm as his fingers tighten around mine. He pulls me up.
I balance on the balls of my feet, and I realize I’m standing less than one foot from Adrian’s chest. The proximity does funny things to my stomach, and his touch makes my palm tingle. I take a large step back, forcing him to drop my hand.
“What’s Angel Fire?”
“One of many angelic powers you are in the middle of developing,” Adrian continues his role as the giver of information. “Though, I am surprised to see it revealed so soon after your maturation.”
My forehead creases. “Maturation?”
“Your eighteenth birthday,” Mr. Cohen explains.
“Oh...” I bite my lip and stare at the ground, trying to wrap my head around everything that has happened and the information the men expect me to believe.
A different thought comes to mind, doing me the favor of distracting me from the unusual light shooting out of my hands.
“Are those wings real?” I gesture to the men and the three sets of wings protruding from their backs. Now that they are closer, I can see Adrian’s black wings do, indeed, have streaks of blue in the feathers. Also, Mr. Cohen’s and Gabe’s aren’t solid white. I see hints of orange and yellow among the strands. The hues are mesmerizing.
“Yes,” Mr. Cohen steps forward, ending my admiration of the men’s wings. Again, it looks like he wants to reach out and touch me, but he thinks better of it. “Like I said, Messenger, we are angels.”
“Just like you.” His brother finishes the last part of the speech Mr. Cohen had given me when we were still in the house.
“You had no business telling her anything.” The venom dripping over Adrian’s words takes me by su
rprise.
I watch him and see that he doesn’t attempt to mask his anger. Adrian’s narrowed gaze and clenched fists reveal it all. “She is not your concern.”
“She, most certainly, is our concern,” Gabe moves closer to me, but his angry eyes are on Adrian. I feel the air shift as Adrian draws nearer to me, as well.
“My bashert is no longer alone. You and your brother can go sniff out another vulnerable Nephilim.”
I see Gabe prepare to reply, but I jump in and ask, “What does bashert mean?” The conversation inside my living room had been tense from the beginning, but the use of the unfamiliar term took the hostility to another level. I want to understand why that is the case, and why the men are using the word to describe me.
Gabe averts his eyes. I glance at Adrian and see he does the same. As does Mr. Cohen.
“What is it?” I frown. “Is it that bad?” Am I some sort of monster or something?
The possibility makes me think of the scaly creatures, and I shudder.
Misunderstanding my reaction, Adrian quickly says, “It is definitely not a bad thing.”
“Absolutely not,” Gabe seconds. “Especially considering you are our bashert.” He shoots Adrian a pointed glare.
Adrian growls. “Are you deaf, light boy? She is not yours.”
“Who are you calling ‘light boy’?”
“Do you see any other slaves here trying to please their master to be let back into Heaven?”
“Shut your mouth,” Gabe gnashes his teeth. “You know nothing.”
“Why don’t you try to make me?”
My neck swings back and forth between them. I don’t know what to think of anything I am hearing. Neither of them bothered to define the term for me yet, and everything they say only confuses me more.
Thankfully, Mr. Cohen intervenes… again. “
Enough.” He approaches and puts himself beside me, effectively positioning himself between the two arguing men. “Messenger has plenty of things to learn before either of you force your presumptions on her. Now, let’s take this conversation inside before we attract attention.”
I refrain from saying they’ve probably already drawn a fair bit of attention. After all, it isn’t like their broad wingspans are inconspicuous. It’s still dusk, and their unusual features are on full display.
Neither Gabe nor Adrian move for a few loaded seconds. I begin to think they don’t intent to when Gabe finally dips his chin and turns on his heel. He stomps toward my house. Mr. Cohen gestures for me to follow. I hesitate, unsure if it is wise for me to walk back into an empty house with the three men, especially not after seeing them fight and kill the monsters.
Seeing my hesitation, Mr. Cohen says, “It’s alright. I promise no one will hurt you.”
I observe the sincerity in his eyes. Then, I look at the white wings hanging over his shoulder.
I swallow and say, “This is real, isn’t it?”
Sadness creeps into his gaze. I get the feeling he wishes he could spare me from this fate. “It is.”
My mind needs more confirmation. “You’re really an angel. You aren’t messing with me?”
“I really am,” he confirms with patience, “and I understand this is a lot to take in. Once we go inside, we can explain more.” Again, he gestures for me to proceed him.
Adrian appears on my other side. He ducks down so his face is in my sight. “Come back inside with us, and I swear on my life, we will tell you everything you want to know.”
The words are true. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do. Adrian does not look away as he waits for my response.
I sigh. “Alright. Let’s go inside.”
Thirteen
I’m back in my family’s living room, sitting on the couch, reeling from the insanity of the last half hour. When I walked back into my house, I’d stopped short of passing my mom’s antique cabinet. The figurines I’d considered destroyed were all repaired and positioned as they’d been before the angels crashed into them. None of the angels had commented on the objects. Instead, they’d all passed me to enter the living room.
Now, all three angels are standing against the wall in front of me. None of them come closer. I suspect they are trying not to overwhelm me with their presence, but that’s next to impossible when their wings are still out behind them. I’m not even sure they notice. Each of them seems perfectly comfortable having the odd extremities out in the open. I ponder where the wings are when they aren’t out. I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I miss a question directed to me.
“Veronica?”
“Hmm?” I tear my eyes away from Adrian’s blue-tinted wings and meet Gabe’s expectant gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I defer to my southern politeness. “What did you say?”
His lips twitch. “I asked if there is anything you wish to know? Something we can use to start this… discussion.”
“Oh.” I chew on my bottom lip as I ponder the question. Part of this still doesn’t seem real, but I cannot deny the evidence in front of me. The men are obviously not human, and their wings suggest they are angels like they say. Still, they tried to say I was an angel. They can’t be in their right mind.
Then again, I did shoot light from my hands…
Obviously, there is something unnatural going on with me, and the men are my only sources to find out what, exactly, that is.
“So… fallen angels are real?”
All three of them nod.
“Right.” I swallow the lump in my throat. This isn’t going to be easy. “And fallen angels sometimes have children? With humans?”
“Sometimes, yes,” says Mr. Cohen. “Though, our Council of the Fallen prohibits Fallen-human relationships.”
“So, I’m not supposed to even exist?”
“Technically, no. Whoever your father is, he broke the Council’s rules when he decided to lay with your mother.”
I feel my cheeks flush when I hear my teacher use the old-timey term for sex. I quickly keep the conversation going. “You keep talking about my father, but can’t my mother be a fallen angel?”
“No,” Gabe jumps in. Then, he modifies his statement. “Well… that is to say, female angels are not able to reproduce like human women.”
I looked at the coffee table in front of me. I wonder what circumstance led to my birth mother meeting and having a child with a Fallen angel. Did she know what he was, or did my biological father keep the truth from her?
Is that why she gave me up? Could she somehow tell there was something different about me?
The insecurities I’d long conquered come roaring back with a vengeance. I try to push them out of my mind. My mom and dad love me. I don’t need to worry about why a strange woman might’ve given me away. If she didn’t put me up for adoption, I wouldn’t have the life I have right now. My adoption was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I’m sure of it.
“Is the fact I’m alive okay with your council?” I lift my eyes and look between the angels. Adrian’s hate-filled expression catches my attention.
“What is it?” I ask him, knowing the angry look isn’t a result of anything I’ve said.
Adrian’s features soften when he sees I’m speaking to him, but he still looks irritated. “It doesn’t matter what their council thinks of you, Veronica. You will be safe now that I’ve found you.”
Mr. Cohen and Gabe bristle, but I continue, “I guess that means they won’t be okay with me?” I phrase my words like a question even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
Adrian continues to scowl as he swings his eyes to the brothers beside him. “If the light boys know what’s good for them, they won’t breathe a word of your existence to their council.”
Gabe growls and steps forward, but Mr. Cohen stops him by placing a hand on his chest. Still, Gabe says, “We would never endanger Veronica’s life. Not ever.”
The emotion behind the words shocks me. Gabe speaks as if we are close when, in reality, I’d only just met him. He s
houldn’t sound so protective. He doesn’t even know me.
“For your sake, I hope that is true. I’d hate to have to kill another light boy.”
I gasp. Did he just say kill?
No one looks my direction.
Mr. Cohen has to grab Gabe’s arm and yank him back when he tries to go after Adrian. The blond man watches Gabe with a taunting smirk.
Their behavior and comments continue to do nothing but confuse me. I place my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes closed. I hear the men arguing, but I try to tune them out.
Focus. I tell myself. How can you get out of this mess?
Because no matter what the men say I am, and no matter what they are, I do not want to be involved with any of it.
The angel council doesn’t like Nephilim? That’s fine by me. I don’t need to meet them.
They say I have angelic powers developing? Cool. That just means I’ll have to control them.
This is only a big deal if I make it a big deal, and I’m determined not to do that.
After taking a deep breath, I lift my head and interrupt the ongoing argument. “Adrian.” The blond immediately turns to look at me, abandoning his taunting of Gabe. I have his undivided attention.
The same goes for Mr. Cohen and his brother.
All three angels stare at me like I’m the only person in the room. Their attention does funny things to me. I take a second to clear my throat.
“Adrian,” I repeat. “Will you help me control that… angel fire stuff.” It sounds funny when I say it out loud.
“Of course.” Adrian tips his head forward. “You don’t even need to ask.”
I offer a wobbly smile. “Cool. Thanks.”
Then, I address Mr. Cohen and his brother. “Thanks for all of your help, but I think one angel mentor is enough.”
Both of them jerk back. It’s almost like I slapped them.
Their reaction makes me second guess myself. “What? What is it?”
Claimed by the Fallen: A Fallen Angel Reverse Harem Novel (The Fallen Harem Book 1) Page 8
