Trust the Fall (Fallen Hunters Series Book 2)
Page 17
“You have it. I swear it.”
She knows I mean it and acknowledges so with a nod, followed by a genuine smile.
“There you are,” River says, stomping into the parlor like a bull in a china shop. “Ready? The queen has requested I bring you to her chambers.”
“Her chambers? As in, her bedroom?”
Lee and I share an alarmed glance.
He shrugs. “That’s where she wants to meet you. I don’t ask questions, Victoria.”
“Are you going to stay in there with us?”
“Do you want me to?” He seems surprised by my request.
I don’t know what it matters. I don’t require a babysitter, but if I’m being honest with myself, I really don’t want to be alone with the queen. I didn’t even know she existed until recently, and I don’t know a thing about her.
It’s not that I’m scared. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. It’s mostly due to my lack of understanding about their customs. I still know very little about the reapers in general. There’s a childish part of me that has some warped need to not mess up. To not offend the queen in some manner all because I’m naive.
As tough as I am, I can admit that there’s a lot I don’t know.
“I’d like you to stay.”
He nods. “Let’s go. She’s waiting.”
I offer a slight wave to Lee, who widens her eyes in a good luck with that expression. “See you later, Vic,” she says, as River escorts me from the room.
The inside of the castle is just as impressive as the outside. Marble floors, covered only by luxurious rugs to pad our footsteps, run throughout the entire palace. White marble columns act as the only divide from one room to the next outside of the bedrooms, from what I’ve seen.
Beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging from the ornate ceilings sparkle overhead, and I have a hard time pulling my eyes away.
“It’s definitely over the top,” River says, grabbing my shoulders to steer me away from the column I just about ran into headfirst.
“Oh, shit. I was . . . a bit distracted. This place is incredible.”
“Camille loves shiny things.”
“Will you tell me a little bit about her? Something other than how wonderful, smart, and gorgeous she is?” I smirk at River’s annoyed expression.
“She’s a warrior. You may not realize it by looking at her, but she’s fierce. She was an archangel.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Camille has shared a lot with me over the centuries, but her time in Heaven is something she keeps close. All she’s said is that she broke the rules and was punished by God. He damned her to be the keeper of souls, and from there, the term reapers was born.”
“Punished for sleeping with Michael,” I mumble.
I don’t miss the way River’s back straightens when I mention the queen having slept with the legendary archangel.
“How did you come to be a reaper?” I ask, changing the subject to safer ground.
River shifts, looking uneasy, but he never turns away from me when he says, “I was a human.”
“What?” My head snaps to his. “A human?”
He nods. “I was the first soul that Camille came to collect. She saw something in me and didn’t think I deserved to be damned.”
“You were damned? What did you do?” I whisper the words as though the walls have ears, and who knows? Maybe here they do.
“That’s . . . a story for another time,” he says, averting my gaze and effectively ending that part of the conversation.
It only makes me want to know more.
“Anyway,” he continues, “she brought me here and made me a reaper.” His eyes dart around. “We built this place together.”
That explains a lot. It’s not surprising that they’d have feelings for each other. If they’ve been together this whole time and built this amazing place, love was sure to factor in at some point. It’s a wonder they’ve never acted on those feelings.
“Who are the others?” I ask, recalling Catarine and Apple.
“Other souls she felt needed redemption. There are even a few fallen angels in the mix,” he says, side-eyeing me.
“Really? Who?”
He chuckles. “You’ll get to meet everyone in due time. Camille will undoubtedly throw a party. It’s the one true love of her life,” he says, a tad more wistfully than I thought possible coming from a man like River. “She loves her people, and they love her.”
I think back on everything that River has just shared about the queen, and all the apprehension melts away. She sounds like a good person.
We reach a large wooden door, likely the way to Queen Camille’s quarters. River’s arm shoots out to push it open, and my hand flies up to stop him.
“Wait,” I say. “I . . . I think I need to do this alone.”
I’d asked for him to stay, but knowing their shared past and how much he cares for her, I’m not sure my original motives apply. I sought someone to have my back, but that won’t come from him. I know that now.
I’m capable of doing this myself and, in truth, it’s necessary. I don’t need distractions while I try to uncover the facts about my birth.
River nods. “I’ll wait out here. If you need me, call. I wouldn’t desert you, Victoria. Not even for her. I brought you here, and I will protect you as promised.”
I smile, appreciating River’s words more than he could possibly realize.
“Thank you.”
I take a deep breath and push through the door, ready to meet the queen.
DYNASTY
The wind is knocked out of me when my gaze collides with Camille’s.
My mother.
There’s no doubt. Like River said, seeing is believing, and I’m a carbon copy of her. She sees it too, as her eyes glide over what feels like every inch of me.
Her hand covers her mouth, and a tear glides down her cheek. “It’s uncanny,” she whispers. “River told me he was certain, but this is such a surprise. I didn’t allow myself to hope—” The word gets caught in her throat, and she shakes it off. “Never mind that. You’re here now. Please tell me all about yourself,” she says to quickly change the subject, wiping away the moisture from under her eyes and straightening her hair off of her shoulder.
I remain speechless, dumbstruck by the revelation.
Same blond hair, similar build—athletically slim, with curvy hips and breasts on the larger side, although she is at least an inch shorter than I am.
“Victoria, say something . . . please,” she weeps.
What does one say when they meet the mother they never knew they had?
“You know my name,” I say lamely, at a loss for intelligent words.
I don’t know what this woman knows about me. She’s a stranger, and that truth stabs at my heart, because deep down I know it’s not the way she wanted it.
It’s in the way her breath catches as she looks at me. I see it in her glassy blue eyes, filled with tears. She was robbed of a relationship with me just as much as I was.
“Of course I know your name. It was my one request to God,” she says, barely holding back a sob.
He dainty hand falls over her heart as her other raises back to cover her mouth. A river of moisture runs down the sides of her face. She’s trying to keep her composure.
She shakes it off, sniffling and straightening her shoulders, perfecting what I’m sure is the control she mastered over the years having to rule a kingdom.
“You should know, my mother . . . your grandmother’s name was Victoria.”
“I have a grandmother?”
She smiles sadly. “Had. She died many, many centuries ago. She was human.”
I nod, because I was told as much.
“She lived in a small village of what’s now called Ireland. Our family’s descendants over the years migrated to the Americas and settled in Louisiana.”
I perk up to this news. “That’s where I’ve been living on Earth.”
“English?”
“Our surname. It was changed over the centuries to English. Why do you look so pale, Victoria?”
Camille’s concern is warranted. I feel faint. After I take several deep breaths, my heart settles and the fog begins to lift.
“When I fell, I chose English as my own name at random.”
She tsks. “Nothing random about it. As I said, it was your soul doing the work.” She smiles. “Victoria English. It suits you.”
My lopsided smile is born from happiness at meeting the approval of my mother.
“You have his eyes.” She smiles, and more tears trickle down her delicate face, but she doesn’t swipe them away. “His name is Michael.”
And there’s the confirmation that Michael is indeed my father. It hurts knowing that all along, we were in the same space, working alongside each other at times, and never knew. It’s especially heartbreaking because of how things have been between us since my fall. Oddly enough, I always kind of looked at him as a father figure before he turned his back on me. Some cuts run deeper than others, and Michael’s might’ve been the deepest of all.
“I know Michael,” I admit, and her eyes widen.
“You do?”
I offer a tight-lipped smile.
“I always hoped that if I couldn’t be with you, God would see fit to keep the two of you together.”
Her happiness is misguided, because although we were together, we were still kept apart.
“I wasn’t allowed to know what became of you. You were both kept from me as my punishment.”
I nod, knowing that part too. “I was raised in Heaven. Michael and I did train together and fight alongside each other, but who he was to me was never disclosed,” I explain, and her face falls into despair.
“I’m not surprised. It would’ve been dangerous for the other angels to know what we’d done. What is he like?”
Camille’s strong façade drops and a childlike giddiness creeps in as she waits for me to tell her about her former lover. Unfortunately, I have very little to offer.
“He’s likely the same Michael you knew. Stoic. Fierce. A warrior, through and through. But we’ve had a sort of falling out as of late.”
Her smile falls. “You and I knew a very different Michael.”
My brow rises in question, and she sighs. “Come. Sit,” she says, taking a seat on a settee and patting the spot next to her. I take a tentative step. “I won’t bite, Victoria.”
Her teasing nature instantly puts me at ease. I take the seat next to her and inhale the lavender fragrance that wafts from her.
“Michael is—was—all of those things. A fierce warrior who was stoic in the presence of his peers. He was an archangel of the highest rank and he lived up to that.” Her head dips and pink stains her cheeks. I wonder what memories she’s recalling in this moment.
“With me, he was tender. Full of life. Funny even.” Her bright eyes shine as she remembers her time with him. “He tried very hard to please God, which is why it came as such a shock when the news broke of what we’d done.” She shakes her head, the light dimming from her eyes. “I’ve never seen God so angry. Of all his children, Michael was the one he never thought would stray from his vows.” She laughs somberly. “It couldn’t be helped, Victoria. The first time we went to Earth together, we fought against the feelings, knowing it was likely Earth’s pull.”
I know far too well about that pull. It’s exactly what I’d thought the first time I met Luke. That my longing for him was the human emotions sprung on me when I was on Earth to do my duties. Like hers, the pull didn’t lessen when I returned home.
If anything, a deep, soul-crushing ache filled me until I almost burst.
Camille takes a deep breath, raising her head so that we’re once again looking into each other’s eyes. “But things didn’t change when we got back to Heaven. My feelings for him remained when they shouldn’t have, and that’s when we knew. What we had transcended the eternal love of Heaven. It wasn’t supposed to, but it did. I loved him.”
My head bobs as tears fill my eyes.
“Victoria,” she says, raising her hand to my face and placing a piece of hair behind my ear. “What’s wrong?”
“I know that kind of love.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh? You’ve . . . fallen in love with an angel?”
“I fell from Heaven.”
She gasps. “You what? When?”
I place my hand over hers, hoping to calm her down. Her heart is racing; I can feel it through our touch.
“A human?” she whispers.
I shake my head back and forth very slowly. How does one tell their mother that they not only fell from Heaven, but they fell for the devil himself?
I opt to tell the long story, hoping by the end of it, she’ll understand.
“I was a legion general of virtue angels. While fulfilling my duties on Earth one night, I stumbled upon a man and woman in a cemetery. The woman was mortally wounded, and the man begged me to save her. She was newly widowed and pregnant. She’d been in the cemetery that night visiting her lost love’s grave when a herd of demons attacked.”
“The man was her lover’s ghost?” she asks, eyes squinted in confusion.
“No. He was another bystander . . . or so I thought.”
I relay every detail from that night to Camille, who listens with rapt attention. I tell her about his charm and the way he cared for the woman who was a stranger to him.
Lucifer might claim that it was an act that night—one orchestrated to gain my trust and keep me in the cemetery longer—but I know better. He meant it when he said she didn’t deserve to die. He wanted me to save her and her unborn children.
He’s a good man, despite his station.
“I gave him my name.”
“Oh,” she says, eyes wide. “It appears the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” She chuckles. “Your grandfather did the same thing.” She shakes her head, full of mirth. “Azazel was the second angel to fall, Lucifer being the first.”
I stiffen at the mention of Luke.
“Azazel? That’s . . . my grandfather?”
She nods. “The human church has written about him in their scriptures, but it’s all wrong. They believe him and Lucifer to be one and the same, but they’re not.” She sighs. “Humans have many truths hidden within the incorrect accounts of Heaven. My father was a scapegoat. One used to scare further angels from coupling.”
“What happened to him?”
She looks at me out of the corner of her weary eyes. “He’s in Hell. Lucifer made him a high demon after his fall.”
My eyes widen. My grandfather was in Hell? How close had I been to him? Does Luke know? So many questions swirl through my mind that I don’t hear Camille calling my name.
“Victoria,” she says, voice raised in concern. “Are you all right?”
“No . . . I mean . . . yes,” I shake my head. “It’s just, I was in Hell.”
“What?” she screeches, jumping to her feet. “Why, Victoria?”
“A demon, Nolda, kidnapped me and dragged me to Hell. He caged me, humiliated me, and planned to torture me.”
“My god, Victoria. I had no idea. I would’ve come for you myself.”
“I’m fine. River thwarted most of the vile things Nolda had planned. Lucifer, Michael, and two other angels came for me.”
“Angels were in Hell?” she gasps.
“As you know, Nolda is trying to unseat Lucifer. That can’t happen, Camille.”
Her eyes narrow. “You side with Heaven then? Even after falling?” She’s confused by my allegiance.
“Despite my misgivings with parts of Heaven’s agenda, I do side with them. I’ve lived on Earth, Camille. Humans are helpless. Women and children would be slaughtered. I can’t stand by and watch that
happen. The balance must be preserved.”
“Lucifer and Michael were . . . together?”
I nod. “They are united in ensuring Luke remains on the throne in Hell.”
“Luke?” her brows knit together, and her lips pinch tightly.
I take a deep breath and steel my resolve. Here it goes.
“I fell from Heaven for Lucifer.”
COUNTING STARS
If disappointment had another name, it would be Victoria.
Camille fainted at my declaration.
“Help?” I call out, bemused and unsure what to do.
Her chest rises and falls, signaling she’s breathing. So there’s that.
River rushes in, eyes bouncing from me to the floor. When he sees Camille, he rushes to her side.
“What did you do to her?” he barks.
I roll my eyes, exasperated at his reaction—or rather, overreaction. “Told her the truth.”
His brows lift to his hairline, if that’s even possible. “You told her about Lucifer?”
“Obviously.”
“Why in the hell would you do that within an hour of meeting her?”
“She asked.” My voice pitches in irritation.
A swarm of reaper guards filter into the room, backing me against a wall, while what must be a healer falls to the ground next to her.
“She’s fine,” I groan. “She fainted.”
“Something she’s never done before,” the healer bites in my direction.
“This is overly dramatic,” I say, looking anywhere but at any individual reaper. “I’m hardly a criminal. You can back up.”
Their heavy stares and pointed glares press down on me like a concrete block.
“Someone remove her, so I can concentrate.” The grey-haired healer man doesn’t look up as he continues to inspect his queen.
She’s still supine, eyes closed.
“I wonder if she’s faking simply to avoid speaking to me.”
“She isn’t,” River snaps, coming to my side.
“I swear to all that is holy, I will . . .”