Hunted by the Fallen: A Fallen Angel Reverse Harem Novel (The Fallen Harem Book 2)

by Samantha Britt

  Hunted by the Fallen

  The Fallen Harem Book Two

  Samantha Britt

  Hunted by the Fallen

  Copyright © 2018 by Samantha Britt

  Cover by Atlantis Book Design

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance between actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental or used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my person,

  I’ve never had a friend as kind or as giving as you. Thank you for always going on crazy adventures with me, and for being a constant source of comfort and support. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.

  Love you, V. <3

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Protected by the Fallen

  Stolen by Darkness

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Samantha Britt

  One

  Flickers of red and orange line the edge of my vision. I ignore the warmth striking my skin as I walk through the burning warehouse. All I care about is vengeance. The need for it engulfs my soul. I stare with hatred at the creature who cut my mom’s throat. Black blood seeps out of his eyes; a side-effect of my burst of Angel Fire moments ago. I revel in the demons anguished cries. It deserves to suffer.

  I lift my arm and shoot a bolt of Angel Fire from my fingertips. The demon howls, and I grin. My angelic power burns a hole through the demon’s torso. I cannot wait to end its life. I step forward and hear a gushing sound. Looking down, I see the floor is covered in a stark red liquid. Mom’s blood is touching my sneakers. I suck in a breath. Then, I scream.

  I bolt up and slam my hands down beside me. My heart beats frantically. I try to identify my surroundings. Gradually, the familiar softness of my mattress and the pale gray walls comes into focus. I exhale, relieved to know I’m safely in my bedroom.

  Still, the horror of seeing my mom die lingers. I may have saved her life with unexpected healing power, but I doubt I will ever be able to forget the way it felt to sink into her blood. The thick, red liquid had stained my clothes as I crawled toward her, agonized over her death.

  I have to wipe my clammy hands against my blanket. Breathing becomes difficult as my mind continues to replay the night I agreed to meet my parents’ kidnappers—the night I felt a piece of me snap when I gleefully killed the demon who had tried to steal my mom from me. The night I feared I became a monster.

  I throw my covers off, slipping my feet into slippers, and race out of my bedroom. Air... I need air.

  I fly down the stairs. My family dog, Periwinkle, must’ve heard me open my bedroom door. Her claws click against the hardwood floor, following me as I seek refuge in the backyard.

  A cool, summer morning breeze touches my heated cheeks. I take a moment to breath in the soothing air, knowing the lower temperature is soon to disappear as the Texas heat rises with the sun. I collapse into a cushioned patio chair, and Peri trots onto the grass. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose and exhale out of my mouth.

  You’re not a monster, I tell myself.

  The smell of fresh cut grass tickles my nostrils. Despite the effort, my lungs continue to constrict. I need to relax, but I’m not sure I can. It’s been a week since my ill-fated meeting with Lukas, a Light Fallen, but the violent event continues to haunt me each night I go to sleep. Lukas might not be the one who sliced my mom’s neck, but he is the angel responsible for endangering my parents in the first place. If he hadn’t kidnapped them and threatened to harm them if I didn’t agree to meet him, the demon would’ve never been able to hurt my mom.

  But Lukas wouldn’t have abducted Mom if you weren’t an angel, either, the negative voice in the back of my mind whispers.

  Periwinkle wines, and I open my eyes.

  The curly Goldendoodle peers at me. A bright orange ball is in her mouth, and she gently places it on my lap. I throw the rubber ball, watching it bounce as Peri chases after it. She returns quickly, eager for another throw.

  Mindlessly, I continue to play fetch with my dog. For a few blessed minutes, my head clears, and I feel somewhat normal. It’s almost like I never learned the truth about the conditions of my birth. Demons have never hunted me in order to drain me of my powerful blood. My adoptive parents were never abducted to blackmail me into submission. And I most definitely have not brought my mom back to life by using some unexplainable power residing within me. I’m just a typical teenager, enjoying her summer break before going to college in the fall. There is nothing strange about me.

  I launch another throw and look at my palms as I lower my arm. How can I be simultaneously capable of such violence, as well as a miracle? It doesn’t seem like the two should coexist. I’ve learned a lot in the two weeks since my eighteenth birthday, but I struggle to rationalize the vast differences in my abilities—abilities my four angelic bodyguards believe I have yet to scratch the surface of.

  I drop my hands in my lap, confused and ashamed of what I am able to do with them. My angelic powers first began to manifest on my birthday, and the experience had been painful. The emergence of my heavenly strengths debilitated my body and mind, and I’d thought I was sick until Mr. Cohen and his brother, Gabe, revealed the truth. Adrian and Zeke entered later, and all four of my bodyguards had mistaken me for a Nephilim–the offspring of some angel’s scandalous affair with a human.

  I sigh into the cool morning air, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The light, warm colors contrast greatly with the darkness in my mind. I wish the four angels had been right.

  At first, I wanted to deny their claim about my heritage. I knew I was adopted, but I refused to believe my existence was caused by anything more than two adults realizing a little too late that they didn’t want to be parents. I hadn’t wanted to be a Nephilim. I didn’t want to be anything but a normal girl, ready to embark on the rest of her life and leave my small lakeside town. But shortly after confessing the truth of my father’s other-worldly status, the Fallen dropped another bomb when they revealed I am not really Nephilim. In truth, I am a full-blooded angel. My birth parents are both Fallen, members of the race cast out of Heaven for disobeying God. And I’m not supposed to exist.

  A shiver runs through me. I cross my arms and ignore Peri as she tries to motivate me to throw the ball again. After a minute of waiting and nudging my leg, she trots off to seek entertainment in the yard. I stare after her. If being a full-blooded angel is what enabled me to cause such violence, I’d rather be a Nephilim like the Fallen originally believed.

  That’s not the only thing they believe you to be, t
he voice taunts me again, snickering. Images of the Fallen explaining our connections are more than links of shared angelic bloodlines fills my mind.

  Before I can follow the thoughts down their convoluted and unbelievable path, my dad emerges from the house, He is dressed in his pajama pants and a t-shirt. The smell of his coffee reaches me, and I grin softly when I see him hold out a second mug for me. “Still having trouble sleeping?”

  I take the mug, careful to keep the dark brown liquid from sloshing over the side. “A little.” I blow on the hot coffee, freeing myself from the need to say more.

  My dad settles onto the patio chair next to me, cooling down his own beverage as he watches Peri frolic in the grass. “I’m starting to worry about you, sweetheart. It isn’t good to lose so much sleep. Insomnia is a real medical condition with real side-effects.” His voice morphs into that of a confident, medical professional. Dad is a dermatologist but, until recently, has never needed to use his physician skills on me. I was rarely, if ever, sick as a child. A fact which I now know is attributed to my angelic identity.

  I sip the coffee, ignoring the way it scalds my tongue. After I swallow, I say, “I know, but it’s getting better. I think I need to work out more… tire out my body during the day, you know?” I don’t say I’ve been going to the kickboxing studio every day when he and Mom go to work. He’d only reprimand me and insist I give my body a break.

  “Hmm.” Dad makes a noncommittal sound, but he doesn’t press the issue as he drinks his coffee.

  For the fiftieth time since he and Mom were rescued, I scan my dad, looking for any evidence of his abduction. There is none. The Fallen used their powers to heal his bruised eye and mend his raw wrists completely. My dad had refused to submit to his captors, and he’d suffered injuries as a result. I choke back the knot in my throat, forcing my attention back to Peri. She is rolling in the grass, tangling her fur, unaware of the turmoil within one of her humans.

  “What are you doing up so early?” Dad’s alarm normally wouldn’t go off for another hour or so.

  “I scheduled a mole removal at nine,” he tells me. “I figured I could use some quiet time before heading in to the office.”

  “Don’t worry about keeping me company,” I am quick to say. “I’m okay hanging out by myself.”

  Dad smiles at me affectionately. “I know you are. But getting the chance to spend some time with you is a pleasant surprise.”

  I smile back, but the effort is weak. My lips wobble. I’m still affected by my nightmare. I take another sip of coffee and resume watching Peri to hide it.

  “You want to know why I think you aren’t sleeping?”

  My pulse quickens, and I fear the Fallens’ mind-erasing ability has failed. I dread the possibility my dad might remember what really happened to him last Friday night. I’m afraid he knows he’s adopted a demon-killing monster.

  I slowly rotate to look at my dad. “What do you think?”

  Instead of the reproachful or disapproving glare I expect, his face breaks into another affectionate smile. “You’ve experienced a lot of exciting life events recently. You graduated high school, turned eighteen and you’re about to go to college. I believe all of the excitement is affecting you physiologically.”

  My relief makes me want to collapse back into the patio chair. “You may be right. I’ve had a lot on my mind, lately.”

  Like how I’m an abomination to both man and Fallen angels.

  Dad reaches over and pats my arm. “I know, Ronnie. Maybe drink herbal, non-caffeinated tea before going to bed. Between that and working out more, you should be able to sleep soundly.”

  I nod. “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll go to the store to buy some tea today.”

  “Good girl.” Dad pats my arm one more time before withdrawing. He stands and stretches his back. “Well, I better go shower. Have a good day, sweetheart.” He bends over and kisses the top of my head.

  The affection mixes with my guilt, and I am barely able to choke out, “You too, Dad.”

  The back door closes behind him. Once again, I am left to my thoughts, and they return to the horrific incidence of the night I killed a living creature. I try to tell myself I shouldn’t feel bad. The demon had killed my mom and would have killed me if given the chance. It deserved to die.

  But that didn’t mean I should’ve enjoyed it so much…

  I shake my head, but the movement fails to clear away the troubling thoughts. It would be one thing if I regretted my violent emotions, but even now, I relish the fact I delivered justice for my mom. And knowing that makes me worry the Fallen angel councils might be right. Maybe I really am an abomination.

  Two

  “Why the long face, Veronica?” A whoosh of air precedes Gabe’s arrival. He retracts his golden-white wings, landing with a soft thump in the backyard. “Your pretty face might stay that way if you aren’t careful.”

  I am not surprised by the angel’s appearance. Dad went to work about thirty minutes ago, and Mom just walked out the door. The angel acting as my bodyguard changed daily, but whoever was assigned to oversee my safety would always arrive shortly after my parents left the house. They didn’t want to risk leaving me alone for longer than necessary, but they didn’t want to be caught by my parents either. A consideration I would never stop being grateful for.

  What I am surprised by, however, is hearing Gabe call me pretty. My cheeks color slightly, and I tell myself to stop being ridiculous. Gabe’s always been friendly, and he’s even called me beautiful before. But Gabe is just being nice. He isn’t trying to hit on me or anything. Despite the fact he and his brother claim I am their soulmate, the Light Fallen haven’t changed the way they treat me. If anything, it’s almost like the dark-haired brothers are walking on eggshells, worried about rattling me more than necessary.

  I shove all thoughts of the soulmate debacle to the side and I murmur my answer to his question, “Still not sleeping well.”

  Gabe’s eyes dim. “The nightmare?” Gabe was the only angel I’d confessed the truth of my terrifying dreams to. I don’t really know why I decided to tell him the truth, but I suppose it’s because Gabe has always seemed approachable. His lighthearted personality makes it easy to tell him things. Unless he is arguing with the Dark Fallen, of course.

  “Yeah.” I rub my eyes. “It’s like I’m reliving that night every time I close my eyes.”

  Gabe’s athletic shorts shift as he walks forward to take the seat my dad had abandoned. I take in his casual attire from his sneakers to his faded hoodie. Gabe clears his throat. When I look at him again, I flush, realizing he noticed my perusal.

  “Aren’t you warm?” I gesture toward his hoodie.

  Gabe’s eyes twinkle. “Not really.”

  I attempt to maintain eye contact, but it isn’t long before I look away. His expression is too open—too teasing. Despite everything that’s happened, Gabe is still the charismatic and easygoing angel from before. The others don’t hide their disapproval for my unwise decision to go to the warehouse on my own, but Gabe hasn’t reprimanded me once.

  “So, what’s on our agenda today? More kickboxing? Or do you have to go to work?”

  “I’m off today. And no to kickboxing.” I rub my sore arms, remembering how hard I went during my last class. I really should cool it with my workouts. They don’t seem to be curing me of nightmares, anyway. “I’ll find some other way to tire myself out.”

  Gabe watches me, concern flitting into his expression before he conceals the emotion. “How about a jog? I could use some exercise myself.”

  I scoff, and my gaze swings back to Gabe. I know there is nothing but muscle underneath his casual attire. But a jog actually sounds like a good idea. It’s been ages since I’ve run by choice, and not because demons were chasing me.

  “Sure.” I push off the chair and whistle for Peri to come to me. “I’ll go change.”

  Gabe nods. “I’ll wait out here.”

  Peri returns to the patio. Instead of f
ollowing me when I open the back door, she goes straight to Gabe. Peri’s curly tail swishes back and forth, and she sets her chin on his leg. She whines when Gabe doesn’t immediately begin to pet her.

  Gabe’s laugh is charming. He leans forward and scratches Peri’s head. “Good morning, Periwinkle. Long time, no see.” Peri’s tail wags furiously, and I roll my eyes. My dog has grown attached to all four of the angels, but she is especially fond of Gabe. Not that I can blame her. He’s pretty likable.

  I leave Peri outside with Gabe; she won’t go anywhere with him around. After pouring out my cold coffee, I rinse the mug and head upstairs. I brush my teeth, then change into running shorts and a tank with a built-in sports bra. Gabe and Peri are waiting for me at the foot of the stairs by time I’m hopping down the steps, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

  Gabe’s eyes run the length of me. He’s abandoned his hoodie. “Ready?”

  “All set.” I think about retrieving my headphones but decide against it. Normally, I’m not a fan of talking while I run, but I know some people enjoy the personable distraction.

  I leash Peri and lock the front door. The temperature is quickly warming with the appearance of a cloudless sky. I’m glad to be running before the heat of midday makes doing so miserable. Living next to a lake can only moderate the Texas heat so much.

  Gabe and I walk to the end of the driveway and take a couple of minutes to stretch our muscles. I wince when I pull my arm across my chest, but I know I need to loosen my shoulders. I stretch my quads, hamstrings, and calves in succession. Then, I’m ready to start.