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

by Samantha Britt

  I focus on Annie’s last question and disagree with her, “I’m not avoiding Preston.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, girl, but you definitely are.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but I bite my tongue when Annie holds up a hand and says, “Answer this question, Ronnie… Do you want to go on a date with Preston?”

  “Yes.” I question the truth of my answer the moment it passes my lips. I may have feelings for Preston, but do I really want to navigate the volatile waters of dating a guy while I have four angels claiming to be my soulmate, breathing down my neck? I’m not so sure a date with my crush is worth the inevitable turmoil. But it is too late to take the word back.

  Unaware of my inner thoughts, Annie nods her head. “Well that settles it. Text Preston, right now, and propose a time to have your date.”

  “Oh… um…” I search my head for any reasonable excuse. Even if I came up with one, Annie’s expression tells me she is not going to let me out of this.

  I exhale and ask, “What do I say?”

  Annie and I spend the next five minutes formulating the perfect text to send Preston. After denying her more forward suggestions, we finally settle on apologizing for my flaky behavior, and proposing we have lunch sometime this week. I send the text and slip the phone into my back pocket and we leave the office. I’m thinking of how I’m going to apologize to Mr. Lee for taking an unplanned break when my phone vibrates with an incoming message.

  Like a bat with sonar hearing, Annie is at my side, “Is it from Preston?”

  I seriously doubt Preston would’ve responded so quickly. I’m sure he had better things to do than wait around his phone all day. With that thought, I retrieve my phone. The device nearly slips out of my fingers when I read “Preston McKenna” on the screen.

  Annie squeals from over my shoulder. “Oh! What did he say?”

  My thumb hovers over the message, debating whether or not it’s smart to open the message with Annie there to see. If Preston declines my offer, I’ll get over it, but I’m not sure I want Annie to know right away.

  “Come on, Ronnie!” Annie whines in my ear. “Open it.”

  Holding my breath, I open the message.

  Lunch sounds great! How about tomorrow?

  I read the text three times before the information finally sinks in. Preston still wants to go on a date with me—even though I cancelled on him. I can’t believe it.

  It doesn’t take Annie near half as long to understand the text. “You’re off tomorrow, Ronnie. Tell him you’re in.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I offer lamely. Sunday hardly seems like a day for a date. Then again, lunch is a pretty casual date. I shake my head, realizing I might be overthinking it. My fingers move against the screen and I type my reply:

  Sounds good to me. Where should I meet you?

  Preston’s response is immediate:

  I’ll pick you up if that’s alright? 12 work?

  Behind me, Annie swoons. I roll my eyes at her dramatic reaction, but inside I’m just as affected by Preston’s gesture. I’ve never been on a date before, but romantic movies always made the guy picking up the girl seem like the gentlemanly thing to do. In today’s world, it’s less common for a guy to be chivalrous, making Preston’s offer that much nicer. It makes me like him a little more.

  I respond:

  See you at 12.

  Four

  “Focus, Veronica. Try again. Train all of your thoughts and energy on the beetle. Will it back to life.”

  I grit my teeth and wipe the sweat from my forehead. It’s Sunday morning. I had another crappy night of sleep, full of demons clawing over one another to get to me and drain me of blood. Despite my fatigue, Adrian refused to cancel our morning training session.

  “I’m trying,” I tell him, “but nothing is happening.”

  “Then you aren’t trying hard enough,” Adrian counters. There is no malice in his voice, only a statement of fact.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. I ignore the taste of blood and center my attention on the beetle in the cardboard box. Ever since I brought my mom back to life, the angels have insisted I try to practice using the new ability in addition to training with my other angelic abilities. Hence, I am forced to stare at a beetle. My task is to heal the insect’s internal injuries and bring it back to life. But after thirty minutes of staring at the dead bug for the third day in a row, I am beginning to think my mom’s miraculous healing was a one-time thing. I’ve tried to say as much to Adrian, but he will have no part in it. And unfortunately for me, he is the angel who has taken my training upon himself. The other three angels do not even try to interfere, meaning I am all on my own when dealing with the frustrating angel.

  I stare at the insect until my eyes dry out. I groan and hang my head. “I can’t do it.”

  “Are you giving up?” Adrian’s tone drips with disapproval.

  My eyes snap up and lock onto his. “It’s been days.” And the only thing that’s made the beetle move is the wind.”

  Adrian crosses his arms, pressing his muscles against his chest. “I didn’t take you for a quitter.”

  I scowl. “I’m not quitting. I just need a break.” Immediately, I hate that I fell into Adrian’s trap. We may have just met two weeks ago, but the angel already knows how much I hate being accused of quitting. I’m stubborn to a fault.

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “Alright. You have five minutes.” He sits on the patio step and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Adrian lights one then lounges against the stairs.

  My scowl deepens. “Haven’t you heard smoking is bad for you?” I remember thinking Adrian had looked so cool the first night I saw him at the Young and Heart concert. I blame his good looks for my poor judgement. In the moment, it was easy to overlook the disgusting habit to admire his bad-boy attire and body language.

  But now, after interacting with the antagonistic and moody angel on multiple occasions, I am no longer as enthralled by his beauty. Not much anyway. And definitely not after he’s been accusing me of being a quitter.

  Adrian lifts an eyebrow. “Haven’t you heard? I’m an angel.”

  I should have guessed angels would not experience the poor health effects caused by smoking. Still, I cross my arms and don my most disapproving expression—mimicking Adrian’s own look. “It’s still gross.”

  “Lucky for me, I don’t care what anyone thinks of my choices.” Adrian exhales a cloud of smoke as he delivers the line. Smoking, coupled with the set of his dark eyebrows and deep blue eyes, enhance the bad boy persona he currently portrays. It’s really not fair that someone so frustrating can be so enthralling. I have to look away or risk being drawn in by his smoldering and challenging gaze.

  “Well, some people don’t like to breathe smoke,” I mutter under my breath.

  Adrian, of course, hears. He pretends not to. “What was that, Angel?” My annoyance delights him.

  “Nothing.” I kick the strands of grass below my feet. The straight, green blades bow beneath the movement, but they resume their upright position once I pull my sneaker back.

  “Why is Veronica attacking the grass?” Zeke descends and lands softly as he retracts his wings. I still marvel at the fact none of my neighbors have mentioned seeing the Fallen come and go from my house. I know angels have the ability conceal their presence from humans, a skill they call Concealment, but it’s still hard to wrap my head around.

  “It seems our angel isn’t fond of smoking,” Adrian answers his twin brother with shining eyes.

  I ignore Adrian and look at Zeke. He wears his typical black jeans and form-fitting t-shirt. “Your brother is determined to annoy me.”

  Zeke doesn’t try to hide his smile. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “I’m right here, brother,” Adrian feigns offense. “At least wait until I am gone to talk about me.”

  “You like nothing more than to hear others talk about you,” Zeke returns, shaking his head as he continues to grin.
“Some might say you revel in the attention.”

  Adrian laughs, and the sound causes a pleasant warmth to gather in my chest. “I suppose I’ve never been one to shy away from attention.”

  I clear my throat, shoving down the way Zeke’s smile and Adrian’s laugh is making me feel. Nothing but drama will result if I indulge the emotions, and drama is the last thing I need right now. “Are you my babysitter this evening?” I ask Zeke.

  “No, I just thought you might need a buffer between you and your dedicated trainer.” His eyes shift over to the cardboard box, noting the still-deceased insect.

  “I can’t do it,” I tell him the same thing I told his brother. “I think it was a one-time thing.”

  “Bringing someone back from the dead isn’t a one-time thing,” Zeke repeats what his brother has said on multiple occasions, “And only a few angels can claim the gift.”

  Gift? I scoff.

  I’m glad I was able to bring my mom back to life, but I can’t call the ability a gift. If I learned one thing about the ability since that night in the warehouse, it’s that my demonstration of power makes me that much more of an enigma. Not only am I not supposed to be able to exist, but my healing ability makes the identity of my angelic parents that much more of a mystery. Many Fallen can heal old injuries and mend fresh wounds, but none of my bodyguards has heard of any Fallen angel with the ability to bring someone back to life. So, either my parents were very good at hiding their ability, or I’m even more of an oddity than anyone ever thought.

  I decide to change the subject. I have no interest in engaging in the same old discussion about my powers, my lack of dedication in mastering them, or anything along those lines.

  I inhale, bracing myself for the storm I anticipate is about to break over me and the Dark Fallen. “I’ve been meaning to ask; do you guys think I can have the afternoon to myself?”

  Both angels halt their movement. Their steady gazes are trained on me. “What for?” Zeke asks.

  I take courage that my request wasn’t immediately dismissed. Now, it’s time for the awkward part. “I have lunch plans with a friend.”

  “Oh?” Adrian smirks. “And who is this friend?”

  I swallow. “A guy from high school. Preston.”

  “The guy you and Gabe ran into when running?” Zeke asks. I’m surprised he knows about my spontaneous conversation with Preston. I wouldn’t have expected Gabe to confide in the Dark Fallen.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Zeke shifts his feet, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Is this a date?”

  I feel myself blush, but I force myself to maintain eye contact. “Yes.”

  Neither of the angels says anything. If it weren’t for the sound of birds chirping and cars driving by, it would be completely silent. I hold my breath, unsure what will happen next. I dread the thought that either Adrian or Zeke will choose the moment to mention our supposed soulmate connection, but I’ve already considered the possibility and determined it was unlikely. Ever since my initial freak out regarding the Fallen Angels’ claims about me being their bashert, there seems to be an agreement to back off all soulmate talk. For which, I am eternally grateful.

  Now, I can only hope the dark angels continue their avoidant behavior.

  It takes several long, agonizing seconds before Adrian finally ends the silence. “No.”

  I blink, unsure I really heard him correctly. “What?”

  Adrian flicks his cigarette bud onto the ground and uses his boot to smother the embers. “No. You cannot have the afternoon to yourself.” He snaps his fingers and the butts disappear.

  I can’t believe he really said no. I open my mouth to tell him he has no right to control what I do with my afternoon, but I can’t seem to form the words. I snap my lips shut and content myself with staring daggers at the insufferable angel.

  “What my brother means,” Zeke swiftly says, sensing I am one well-formulated thought away from unleashing fury on Adrian, “is that we cannot let you go anywhere without an escort. Lukas is still out there, and we have to assume he still wants to use you for whatever he had planned before the demons interrupted your meeting.”

  I’m still angry, but I am able to see reason. Zeke is right. Lukas hasn’t made an appearance since the night of the warehouse, and my gut says it’s only a matter before he tries to make contact. Adrian and Zeke are simply being smart by not allowing me to go off on my own.

  So why am I so irritated? Again, I fear that something fundamental changed in me the night I killed the demon. I was never so quick to anger before, was I?

  I breathe in and out, forcing myself to not say anything inspired by my anger. “Fine. I can’t go alone. But is there any way you two can watch over me from a distance or something?”

  Zeke turns to look at his brother. The pair maintain eye contact, having a silent conversation. I’ve noticed both sets of brothers seem to have the ability to communicate wordlessly with one another.

  I’m surprised when Adrian answers, “We will stay out of sight.”

  “What? Really?” I’d expected the Dark Fallen to try and negotiate terms with me. Maybe even insist to sit no more than one table away from me and Preston. I definitely didn’t expect them to immediately acquiesce to my request.

  Adrian nods. “Really. We won’t interrupt your date, Angel. But just know, we will be watching the entire time. If anything goes down, we won’t hesitate to intervene.” There is a hard glint in his eye. I know he means what he says.

  But why do I have the feeling Adrian isn’t talking about demons or other Fallen?

  Five

  My parents return from church before Preston arrives to pick me up for our date. I’m disappointed. I’d been grateful when they let me skip church without too many questions, and I’d hoped to leave before they came back home. Turns out, I’m not so lucky.

  Mom and Dad have barely walked through the front door when I hear Preston’s truck pull into the driveway. I stand from the couch in the living room. Zeke and Adrian had disappeared the moment they heard the garage door open, announcing my parents’ arrival.

  Mom peers out the window. “Who’s that?”

  I cringe, dreading the impending interrogation. “My friend, Preston.”

  “Preston McKenna?” My dad joins Mom at the window, separating the blinds to get a better look at our visitor. “What’s he doing here?”

  I tug on my khaki shorts and straighten my flowing tank top. “We-uh… have lunch plans.”

  Both of my parents spin around at the same time. Each of their eyes widen, but their expressions convey different emotions. Mom looks excited while Dad looks like he just swallowed a piece of liver.

  “Are you going on a date, Ronnie?” Mom whispers in glee.

  “Please, don’t overreact. This isn’t a big deal.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to ask our permission before you agree to a date?”

  I give my dad an incredulous look. I can’t tell if he’s being serious. “I’m eighteen,” I remind him. I know I’m living under their roof, but never before has my dad ever said anything about needing permission before I do anything outside of staying out past my curfew. Then again, I guess the subject of dating hasn’t really ever come up. Until a week ago, I never had a guy interested in me.

  With that in mind, I add calmly, “I didn’t know you would want to know about my lunch plans,” I tell my dad. “Sorry.”

  He mumbles something under his breath, shooting a glare towards the truck. Through the open blinds, I see Preston close the driver door. He’s walking to the front door.

  “Can you guys go into the living room or something?”

  “Not a chance,” Dad answers.

  “Of course,” Mom says at the same time. She grabs onto her husband’s arm and gently pulls him away from the window. “Come on, Oliver. Let’s give your daughter some privacy.”

  “You know how I feel about teenage drivers. Ronnie has no business getting into a vehic
le with a boy we don’t know.”

  I sigh. “You know Preston, Dad.” We’d gone to the same school since we were five.

  “Not well enough,” he replies with no sign of backing down.

  “That’s enough, Oliver. I taught Preston in Sunday School for years. He’s a good kid. I trust him to drive Ronnie to lunch with no incident.”

  Her words trigger memories of the night Joey drove me and Annie to the concert on my birthday. We were on our way home when a yancor demon came out of nowhere and attacked the car. It was the night everything changed.

  I watch Mom continue to pull Dad’s arm. They are in the entryway of the living room when the doorbell rings. My heart leaps into my throat, and I feel nervous.

  “I’ll be okay,” I try to console my dad, hoping he doesn’t decide to embarrass me when I open the door. “If Preston drives recklessly, I’ll call you for a ride home.”

  Dad observes me for a prolonged second before finally dipping his chin, accepting my compromise. “Fine.” He turns around and walks into the living room. Mom shoots me a bright, excited smile before following him. She’s been waiting for this day for a long time. Between her and Annie, I know I am going to be grilled for every single detail about my date.

  After schooling my expression and straightening my blouse for the second time, I open the door.

  Preston smiles down at me, showcasing his dimples. His hands are tucked in the pockets of his dark jeans, and his pin-striped shirt has its sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. He looks great, and I am suddenly self-conscious of my casual attire. “Hey, Veronica. Ready to go?”

  “Y-yes.” I want to kick myself for the nervous stutter.

  Be cool, Veronica.

  I grab my crossbody purse from the table beside the door and step outside, closing and locking the door behind me. I face Preston again, unsure what to do. Preston gestures toward his truck, “Is it okay if I drive?”