Fallen Reign (Se7en Sinners Book 4)

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Fallen Reign (Se7en Sinners Book 4) Page 2

by S. L. Jennings


  I lift my chin, exuding manufactured resolve. “Me.”

  “You. You’re offering me yourself.” The corner of his mouth curls seductively.

  “Yes.”

  He stalks around me, taking inventory of my steely frame as if he’s sizing me up for auction. I stay completely still. I don’t even breathe. “And what makes you think that I want you? What would make you believe that I would risk my own existence for a simple Nephilim girl?”

  “Because you do,” I retort with certainty. “You never hesitate to torment and mock me. You get off on watching me squirm and making my life Hell. Now you have the chance to do it whenever you feel like it.”

  “But what fun would that be?”

  I huff out a frustrated breath. “We’re wasting time. Do we have a deal or not?”

  Lucifer shrugs. “Quite the change of heart. I thought he was the love of your life. Your heart and soul. The very oxygen in your lungs.”

  I ignore his taunting and answer honestly. “Sometimes you have to let a wound fester and rot before you finally realize that you’re slowly dying.”

  He nods thoughtfully, stowing the sarcasm. “So what happened?”

  I shake my head. If he knew…if he knew what I had become—what I was becoming—he wouldn’t understand. If he knew that since we had escaped, I had been…changing. In ways that I couldn’t comprehend. It was like something snapped into place as I watched the life seep from Jinn’s dark eyes. Legion may have been the one to wield the blade, but I let him. I hesitated. I could have stopped him and I didn’t, hoping to break through to him. And with his blood on my hands, I couldn’t face myself. There was no forgiveness for what I had done. The Se7en had risked everything for me. Jinn had shown me kindness when I was terrified and alone. And this was how I repaid him. This was how I showed my gratitude for giving me the sense of family that I never truly had and had always craved.

  I wouldn’t fail again. I owed them that much.

  I would make it right this time. It’s what Legion would want if he were still with us. I wouldn’t let The Many tarnish their memory of him any longer. This would be my retribution, the very thing Legion had been searching for when he formed the Se7en. Maybe somehow we would find it together.

  “I can’t take anymore,” I utter just above a whisper. “I can’t take any more from them. Cain, Phenex, Andras, Lilith, Toyol…they’ve already lost so much. Their home, their city…” And it was all because of me. I swallow, biting back the tremor in my voice. “And now they’ve lost Jinn. I can’t take any more from them.”

  “They haven’t lost him.”

  I shake my head. “You saw him, Lucifer. You saw how The Many took control. He’s gone.”

  “No,” Lucifer replies, rolling his eyes. He steps up to face me, leaving only about a foot of space between us. “Jinn isn’t dead. He’s alive, Eden. Barely, but alive.”

  “What?” The word comes out in a rush, and I feel my face heat with emotion.

  “He’s still alive. Whatever synthetic angel blood Phenex cooked up is working enough to keep him stable, for now at least. But he isn’t healing. Irin’s doctors can’t fix him. And even though I was gracious enough to lend him a bit of my blood…” He subconsciously rubs a spot over the crook of his elbow. “It seems as if Jinn’s injuries are too extensive.”

  “But he’s alive.”

  Lucifer notes the hope glossing my wide eyes and shakes his head. “They don’t expect him to last long. I came here to see if you wanted to say goodbye.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “It’s not enough, Eden. It would take a miracle to heal him. And if the state of your world is any indication, the Big Man is fresh out of fucks. Besides, Jinn is a demon. Even if there were a way to save him, you think it would be an act of divine intervention?”

  “But I thought that was the only reason we were keeping Adriel alive! What the hell else is she good for?” I lash out, my anger weighing out over confusion.

  That was the plan: save Adriel in the event we need her blood to save one of the Se7en. She stood there and watched the carnage unfold, and she did nothing. She played the role of helpless damsel, while, once again, Legion was held to the fire for crimes they were both guilty of. She could have gone back to Uriel, and it would have all been over. Hell, she could have told the truth about her affair with Legion and none of this would have happened. There would have been no reason for Legion to fall. No reason for Uriel to come to Earth to put his revenge plot in motion. After everything she had done, after everything she was still doing, he still protected her. He still chose her life over his own.

  Over mine.

  Blood roars in my ears, coupled with the sound of my racing heart pounding in my head. It’s beating too fast, so fast that I can’t distinguish where one beat ends and the next begins. Almost like a trembling hum. A flush of fire sweeps over my face and dips down my neck, surging down into my belly. My fists are shaking at my sides. No, not just my fists. My entire body. Shaking with the need to hit. To batter. To destroy. To release a rush of holy light so bright and white hot that it would burn eyes from their sockets for miles.

  And I’m gone.

  I’m through my bedroom door, down the hall, zooming through corridors faster than human legs could ever take me. So fast that even Lucifer’s voice behind me grows faint. And before I can blink or take a breath, I’m kicking down the doors of the clinic.

  “Where is she?” I snarl, baring teeth. “Where the fuck is she?”

  The handful of nurses and technicians milling about don’t utter a single word, yet one spares a glance towards a set of double doors. I’m already flying through them.

  My hands are quaking with unleashed power. My eyes are burning with unshed, angry tears. But even through my rage, I see them all, staring at me in varying shades of bewilderment and…and terror. Cain, Toyol, Andras, Lilith, and Phenex are all huddled around Jinn’s bed, each with a hand outstretched to his still, bandaged frame as if they’re praying, or lending him their own strength. And Adriel against the wall, her small frame draped in her usual winter white. Her hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place. Like the last twenty-four hours didn’t even happen. Like she doesn’t have a fucking care in the fucking world. Unlucky for her, her pristine gown won’t stay white for long.

  I still the shaking in my hands long enough to unsheathe an angelsbane-tipped dagger from the small of my back, and before she can even scream, the blade is scraping her throat.

  “You could have saved him. You could have saved both of them,” I seethe.

  “Eden, what are you doing?” someone asks from behind me. I don’t know who it is, and I don’t care. Not even God himself could break my will.

  “Doing what should have been done a long time ago. Jinn needs angel blood. Pure angel blood, and a lot of it. Get a bucket. I’m about to drain this bitch.”

  It takes every able-bodied member of the Se7en plus Lucifer to pull me off of her. And while they still can’t hold me for more than a few seconds, it’s just enough time for Adriel to try to scramble to the other end of the room like the coward that she is. It’s not until Irin emerges that I feel the fury ease like an ebbing storm. She casually comes to stand before me, the skirts of her beaded sarong dragging on the white, sterile floor. She smiles, an act that’s one part sinister, one part seduction.

  “Eden, my little abomination. Surely you weren’t about to shed blood in my home.” Her voice is level, but every syllable is laced with a threat.

  I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.

  “I was. And I am.”

  “And you do remember that act is forbidden, correct?”

  “I’m leaving anyway. So you can kill me now, or wait until I’ve packed my shit. Either way, Jinn is getting the blood that he needs to heal.”

  Irin looks back to where Adriel is still huddled in fear. “That would be helpful, however not at all conducive to your plans. How can you seek revenge if you are dead?”

>   I narrow my eyes. “I may not kill her now, but the minute she steps outside these walls, I’ll be waiting. Jinn will die without her blood. And isn’t that the sole purpose of saving her from Uriel?”

  Irin glances over my shoulder at the others behind me, still within range in case I make a move to slaughter their precious little angel. “You should tell her. Tell her or I will. I’m already bored with this conversation.”

  “Tell me what?” I whirl around to face Lucifer and the Se7en. “Tell me what?”

  “Eden…” Cain inches forward and the others fall back, giving us space to talk. “When Uriel extracted Adriel from your body, she fought to hold on. And in order to do that, she had to fuse her life to yours.”

  “What?”

  Lucifer steps up, clearing his throat. “Killing her would be committing suicide. Which is why they won’t let her sacrifice her blood to save Jinn. It would kill you.”

  I look around at each of their solemn faces. They’re going to let him die…to save me.

  Shaking my head, I back away. “No. No.” I look over at Adriel, the rage zapped from my glare. It wasn’t her everyone was so hellbent on saving, even at the expense of their friend. It was me.

  “I wanted to tell you from the beginning,” Lucifer admits, taking another step towards. “They were convinced you’d do something stupid. I tried to convince them that you would never be so callous and, quite frankly, childish to prove a point. Because you are much more valuable alive than dead. And for us to do what we need to do—for us get the revenge you seek—you need to be very much alive. But you know that, right?” He lifts a brow, urging me to understand.

  I know he’s right. We have work to do. But in order to do that, I need to hang on just a little longer. Plus we need the key to ending all this suffering.

  “The Redeemer,” I blurt, thinking out loud. “I need The Redeemer.”

  “What did you say?” At the mere mention of their sacred blade, Cain steps forward.

  I lift my chin, mustering my courage. Facing off with the Demon of Murder is no easy feat. Especially when he’s scowling, making the jagged scar spanning from the corner of his lip to his ear appear even more menacing.

  “I need to get out of here and finish what we started. And I need The Redeemer to do it. With or without your blessing.”

  “You realize how fucking stupid you sound, right?” Cain’s black eyes narrow in contempt. “You’re a newborn Nephilim. So what…you think you’re going to face off with The Seraph? With Legion? Don’t let your foolish pride and your silly human heart get you killed, girl.”

  “And so what if I do. At least I’ll die knowing I did all I can to save humanity. I’m not about to waste another second here, hidden behind Irin’s fortress like a damn coward.” I suck in a breath, taking a beat to calm the anger rising in my gut. “Look, I appreciate all you’ve done, but this is something I need to do. This all started with me, and it’s going to end with me. So you can be with me, or against me. Your choice.”

  Cain snarls, but doesn’t say a word. His penetrating stare just continues to bore into me, sending a warning chill down my spine. He isn’t like the others. He’s made it clear from the beginning that my life means less than nothing to him. And the only reason he’d have to consider preserving my mortality would be for my sister’s sake. And before her, his respect and undying loyalty to Legion was the only thing holding him back from ripping my face off.

  “Get out.”

  I expect the command to come from Cain, but it’s Phenex who’s glaring at us from Jinn’s side. Glaring at me, as if I’m a stranger, an intruder.

  “Get out!” barks the usually soft-spoken, even-tempered assassin. “He’s barely hanging on, and you’re arguing over a piece of metal? The very weapon that put Jinn in this bed? If you aren’t here to lend him strength and serenity, then leave. Leave. Now!”

  “Come on,” Lucifer approaches, his hand outstretched. I reject his offer with a scowl and turn towards the double doors, my heart in my throat.

  I feel like such a selfish bitch. Scratch that, I know that I’m a selfish bitch. They’re mourning their brother, and I’m more concerned with exacting a convoluted revenge plot that I don’t have the slightest clue how to enact. Have I fallen so far that it takes the fucking Devil to reel me in?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “You need to sleep,” Lucifer mutters when we’re halfway to my bedroom.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not, Eden. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because if suicide is your thing, I can suggest a few less humiliating options.”

  “Go to hell,” I sputter, unable to come up with a better comeback.

  “So soon? I’m on vacation.”

  “Yeah, of course your sadistic ass gets off on watching innocent people be slaughtered.” I step ahead, anxious to get away from the judgmental daggers he’s been throwing. Still, he’s right on my heels, and not even me damn near slamming my bedroom door in his face seems to shake him.

  I cross the room to pick up my backpack, but Lucifer is already snatching it from my grasp.

  “What the fuck? Give it back!”

  “Not until you calm down and get some rest. You haven’t slept. You haven’t eaten. You’re running on fumes and expect to be efficient at what? Getting your neck snapped?”

  “I told you—I’m fine. And I’m not your concern.” I go to steal my bag back, but he holds it out of reach as if the heavy sack weighs next to nothing.

  “I’m making you my concern. Because apparently you’re either too stupid or too immature to be rational. And you forget—we don’t have The Redeemer. You’re cute and all, and a pretty decent lay, but I’m not sacrificing myself for a petty little girl.”

  “No one asked you to. No one even asked you to come with me. Stay here if you’re scared. It’d probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want you to ruin your manicure.”

  He barks out a sardonic laugh. “You’re funny. And a bit forgetful.” He steps forward, tilting his head down so we’re eye level. An electric storm is brewing within monochromatic glare and his voice softens to a haunting whisper. “Shall I remind you that I can flay the skin off your bones without lifting a single finger? I wouldn’t even break a sweat. I could eat you alive and use those lovely silver locks as dental floss.” He gently runs his fingers through my hair, before harshly grabbing a handful. Hard enough for my head to snap back. “I’m not Legion, Eden. I don’t give a fuck about your feelings. You will not goad me with a temper tantrum. So shut that pretty little mouth and do as I say.”

  He pushes me back and I bounce against the bed. I’m pissed and embarrassed, but I have enough sense not to challenge him. The horrid image of those girls eating each other alive is still burned into my skull. He didn’t even say a word; the task was as easy as blinking for him. And those girls…they reveled in serving him with their gruesome demise. I wouldn’t doubt that he would condemn me to a similar fate for merely testing his patience.

  Lucifer tosses my bag beside me and turns towards the door. “We leave in the morning,” he adds before twisting the knob. “Sleep, Eden. You’ll need it.”

  My breaths heavy and my eyes blurred with rage, I dig my fingers into the soft satin duvet, just to keep myself from punching something or someone. I don’t even realize that I’ve shredded right through the fabric until my fingertips hit the metal mattress springs.

  Shit. What’s happening to me?

  I knew something had been evolving within me. I had been feeling it for days, since I was pulled from that black water—abnormal strength, superhuman speed. I knew I had been reborn into something not quite human yet not quite mortal, but I didn’t truly understand which parts of me were still of this world, and which parts of me had emerged from something else entirely. I could feel it roiling in my gut, slithering beneath my skin, burning behind my eyes. And it was becoming more dominant, more visceral.

&n
bsp; I close my eyes, trying to put myself back together again. I wouldn’t become what Uriel had made me to be. I wouldn’t be a monster, even if every instinct inside me wanted to submit and let my inner evil take the reins.

  As my heartbeat slows and the adrenaline begins to wane, exhaustion sinks its hooks in me. I barely have the strength to kick off my shoes before curling onto the bed, bypassing the tattered blankets. I sink into the cold pillows, noting how they still smell like Legion, like rain and scorched earth and kindling wood. Each inhale is a memory. The way he kissed me, like he was a starving man and I was his sustenance. The way his massive body fit over mine, and how I felt so small yet so safe with him. The way he rocked into me before sinking his teeth into my neck like my blood was liquefied Ecstasy. And in my last lungful of his scent before I drift off into a deep slumber, I hear him. I hear them.

  Strobe lights skating across an empty dance floor.

  Jagged shards of glass swimming in a puddle of tawny booze.

  A neon-lit sign. A broken wooden chair.

  A peal of distorted laughter. A wall splattered with fresh, bright red blood.

  And a symbol I’ve never seen before.

  Flashes of images spliced on an endless loop, each only lasting a mere second. I strain to see more, hoping to catch a glimpse of where I am, but the moment I step further into the room, the merry-go-round begins again. I look down. I’m dressed in ripped jeans, a chunky sweater, and sneakers. They’re my clothes, but I haven’t worn them in months. Not since they were soiled with brain matter and bile in the dingy corner store where I once worked. Not since the night Legion blasted through the dirty glass windows, guns drawn, and saved me from Lucifer’s Called.

  “Hello?” I call out, unsure of who or what will answer.

  My head is dizzy. My eyes are aching with the strain to focus on each scene. I can’t tell if I’m watching it all on a projector screen or if I’m experiencing it. Disoriented, I instinctively reach out a hand to steady myself and find myself grasping a wooden raised counter. A bar. I’m in a bar.

 

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