by Kim Faulks
Tall grass skimmed my hands as I walked.
“Lorn, what the hell are you doing?” Rival called.
But I left him behind…I left all of them.
The medallion burned and hummed, sending vibrations through my chest. I reached up and grasped hold of the chain and that feeling grew. Something was calling me…to this field—to this place.
Movement drew my gaze toward the sky. A dark blur amongst blinding light hurtled toward the earth like a meteor. Pure white light shone around the figure, blurring the face as it hit the ground with a deafening thunk.
The ground trembled like an earthquake, and the deafening sound of my pulse was all I could hear as the being slowly rose to one knee.
Long red hair caught the breeze like the lash of a bloody whip.
And as the pure white light dimmed around the figure, I realized this was no Archangel.
There were no wings, no feathers, just skintight leather pants, a white leather jacket and wicked wooden stakes in her hands. She lifted her gaze, her brown eyes found mine.
The medallion around my neck was scorching now, humming so loud it chattered my teeth. She stared at me, and then cocked her head to the side.
It was like looking into a mirror.
And that deafening thump in my chest told me who she was.
My sister.
She lifted her head, sniffed the air, and then jerked her gaze toward the sky. Lightning flashed above her, like a tempest storm in the heat of summer.
Then she was gone, before I even saw her move. She tore through the field, legs pumping, hands gripping those stakes.
“Hey, wait!” I roared, and lunged after her.
But she was gone in an instant.
She saw me…and she ran.
My mind raced as Gabriel screamed my name, and the thundering of boots echoed.
“Lorn, don’t move,” Gabriel warned as lightning cut across the darkening sky once more.
I saw them in the blinding light, dark shadows with outstretched wings racing toward the earth. They hit the ground in almost the exact spot she had.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Four figures with massive wings rose. Their white feathers glowing with the grace of God.
“Michael,” Gabriel growled through clenched teeth as the massive Heavenly warrior rose.
His bare chest shone, slick with sweat. Long, jet-black hair was a stark contrast to Gabriel’s, but it wasn’t his brother Michael looked at.
It was me.
He took a step, lips curled in a sneer. Hate flowed from his eyes, with a look of determination I’d never seen before.
Gabriel took a step forward, and stretched out one wing, covering my body. The three warriors behind him were just angels, still, they stared at me with the same fierce determination as the Archangel Michael lifted his head and inhaled.
He was scenting me like a hound.
They all were.
Until the Archangel jerked his head left, in the direction my sister had run. He drove those massive wings into the ground and lunged. Boots pounded the earth like a damn stampede as all four of God’s warriors tore across the field.
Chasing her.
“What the fuck just happened?” Gabriel murmured and looked down at me.
“I think…I just met my sister.”
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Coming January 2019
They’ll fall from Grace to make her theirs.
The blinding light of Heaven is no salvation.
Its white walls my prison, its gate, the entrance to my cell.
But I don’t belong here. I never have.
Four Archangels took me from my bed at the Convent of Heavenly Christos.
They chained my hands and my feet and carried me on broad backs with mammoth wings beating the air into submission.
They brought me here, because of a secret I cannot remember.
A secret so powerful it’ll start a war between Heaven and Hell.
So I do the only thing I can.
I run.
And as I hide in the darkness afraid of the light I start to remember…and what rises to the surface fills me with terror.
Archangel Michael and his warriors hunt me until the ends of the earth, but when they capture me they’ll find themselves caught between love and truth.
Why was I confined to Heaven?
And why were they tasked to bring me back?