Fallen Angel: Mythic Series, Book 2

by Abbie Zanders

“Explain free will to me again,” Kristoff said, shaking his head. “How can you have a choice if the outcome is predetermined?”

  Armand gave his young friend a patient smile. The topic was one he had been debating for centuries. “Knowing the most likely course one will take does not preclude them from making the choice to do so. For example, I can say with relative confidence that after this meeting, you will find your way down to the kitchen to sniff out our delectable new donor and consider charming her into spending the rest of the night in your playroom. That does not mean that you could instead choose to forego the surety of that encounter for something a bit more challenging – such as seeking out the lovely little female you assisted the other evening.”

  Kristoff’s dark eyes glittered as the power around him temporarily flared, but Armand’s beatific expression remained serene. How did the old vamp even know about the shy, quiet female Kristoff had encountered when her car had broken down alongside the road? The one with pretty hazel eyes that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about, who thought he was nothing but a nice, human guy who happened by in the middle of the night and knew how to change a tire?

  “So?” Kristoff said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was unimportant. “We have lived together since my turning. You know me well.”

  “Exactly!” Armand beamed. “You do not think the Creator knows us? Knows what is in our hearts and minds? Can foresee the way events will play out? But I digress.” He looked back to Vlane. “Given the little bit you have told me about her – namely her penchant for helping others and her resilience - I would speculate that this woman, Ryssa, defied a direct order.”

  “So she does something she’s not supposed to and spends time in the penalty box. How does she end up with Karthik?” Kristoff asked.

  “That is a bit more puzzling,” Armand mused. “Angels – even Fallen – are extremely powerful. There is not a demon in existence that can control an angel, unless...”

  “Unless what?” Vlane prompted. Armand glanced at Jax, whose eyes were bright and glittering. “Unless the angel willingly allows it.”

  “Why would anyone do that?” Kristoff scoffed.

  “Sacrifice,” Vlane said, realization dawning as he looked at his bride. “She gave herself for another.”

  “If that is true,” Armand mused, “then all is not hopeless.”

  “Explain.”

  “If Ryssa’s actions were made with a pure heart, then her soul is not truly damned and remains intact. If she repents, her bond with Karthik will be severed.”

  It seemed easy enough, yet they had all been around long enough that true repentance was more than just offering up an apology. True repentance involved heartfelt remorse and atonement. If the angel believed what she had done was right, then such things were impossible.

  “What if she is not sorry for whatever it is she has done?”

  Armand sighed. “Then things become more difficult.”

  “Difficult,” Ana said, jumping on that immediately. “You said difficult, not impossible. That means there is a way.”

  “Yes,” Armand said slowly, “but ...”

  “But what, Armand?” Vlane prodded. “What will release Ryssa from Karthik?”

  “The same thing that bound her in the first place: sacrifice.”

  Jax stood immediately. “I’ll do it.”

  Armand shot him an approving glance. “Admirable, my young friend, but I’m afraid it would not be enough. Only death magick has the power to break such a bond, and as a vampire, you have already conquered death.”

  “Then who?” Kristoff mused aloud.

  “There is an even stronger magick, Armand. One that transcends death,” Ana said quietly.

  “Ah, yes. The most powerful magick of all. True love.” Armand beamed at her. “If her destined soul mate willingly gives up his life for her, then she may be released.”

  The silence was immediate and heavy as Armand’s words sank in. As immortals, they knew the rarity of finding a true soul mate. And despite David Corrigan’s unrecognized feelings, the possibility of a human male being the other half of a fallen angel was highly unlikely.

  “Why is it any more unlikely than a Faerie finding her mate in a master vampire?” Ana asked, picking up on Vlane’s thoughts again. Four sets of eyes turned her way, but none of them had an answer to that.

  Chapter 9 – Welcome to the Rabbit Hole

  “Vlane.” Ana spoke later, tucked securely in her husband’s arms as the dawn was beginning to break. “Do you remember what you wished at our wedding?”

  He stared into her eyes for a few minutes. “My every wish was granted the moment you became mine, Ana.”

  The love she had for him radiated through their bond, filling him from the inside out.. “As was mine,” she admitted, smiling. “But I was referring to what you said to Matt.”

  Vlane mentally reviewed his conversation with the local werewolf alpha that night. “You mean when I wished that other males might experience the joy of finding their soul mates?”

  She nodded. “What if that is starting to happen?”

  His Fae bride was a hopeless romantic. While he enjoyed catering to her every fantasy, he was not quite as optimistic. He didn’t want her to get her hopes up and then be disappointed. Disappointment had no place in her life, not anymore.

  “Think about it,” she said, turning in his arms to face him. “What if what Armand said is true? That everything really does happen for a reason.”

  “Ana.”

  “Like how Dani was accidently shot by that hunter and then hit by a car just as I was driving through. If that had not happened, I would not have saved her, gotten the vet job in Mythic, and eventually, met you.”

  “I do not doubt that Fate brought you to me,” Vlane said carefully. “But is it not possible that you might be seeing a divine hand in things that are purely coincidental?"

  “Perhaps,” she said, stroking his chest thoughtfully. “But what if I am not? What if Ryssa was destined to meet David? Isn’t that why you asked David about the nurse? You don’t believe she was a real nurse, do you?”

  Vlane didn’t have to answer that. His clever mate had already seen his thoughts, knew that he believed there was a very real possibility that the woman had been sent to set certain events in motion. Ryssa was meant to come into Elizabeth Corrigan’s life for a reason - that he didn’t doubt - but not even he was arrogant enough to assume he knew what that reason was. Maybe it involved David Corrigan; maybe it didn’t.

  “It did,” Ana said, reading his thoughts and feeling the truth of it. “How many men do you think she has shared her gift with? How many would have gone to such lengths to find her - willing to brave a demon club, a haunted cemetery, and a vampire’s lair for her? You yourself said you looked into his mind and saw the depth of his feelings for her.”

  “True,” he admitted. “All right, love. You have convinced me that it is a possibility. What do you suggest?”

  “Call David Corrigan and tell him the truth. All of it. If he balks, you can wipe his memory of all things Extraordinary and send him home blissfully ignorant. But if he doesn’t...”

  * * *

  David poured himself another drink as he stood in Vlane Masterson’s opulent guest room and stared unseeingly out the window. Dawn was still hours away, but he didn’t even consider the possibility of sleep. He had always believed he was a strong man, but Masterson’s unexpected bombshell had left him badly shaken.

  His first impulse had been to laugh, but one look at Vlane Masterson’s polished ebony eyes had told him the man wasn’t joking. Vlane had then gone on to spew all kinds of nonsense about angels and vampires and demons and soul mates and God only knew what else while David sat there, stunned, expecting to wake up in a cold sweat any minute.

  His second impulse had been to run like hell. The guy had to be fucking nuts, right? He’d heard that in some old-money families, insanity was not uncommon. Apparently there had been all kinds of inbreeding to
keep the bloodlines pure. Masterson definitely had an old-world European vibe about him, and spoke with the slight inflection and perfect articulation of someone for whom English was not a first language. Dressed all in black, reclusive, living in a castle-like mansion that wouldn’t be out of place in a Bram Stoker adaptation... yeah, David could definitely see the guy believing all that vampire lore and indulging in some serious role-play.

  But then some small voice in the back of his head told him he hadn’t believed in angels a few weeks ago, either. Or sentient ghosts.

  And those fangs sure as hell looked real.

  Vlane Masterson had made him an offer. Unlike the oft-quoted line from The Godfather, it was an offer he could easily refuse, and no one would think worse of him because of it. Should he choose not to accept, he would return to his prior life, free from this burden of knowledge that weighed upon his shoulders like a heavy mantle.

  He would go back to his big mansion and his successful business and continue as if none of this weirdness ever happened. All memories of Ryssa and the rest of the Extraordinaries - as Masterson had referred to them - would be safely excised and he would go on to live out the rest of his life as a perfectly content human male.

  The question was, was that what he wanted?

  David had everything a man could want. A big house. A successful business with his family name on the letterhead. More money than he would ever use. He was on the Brookside Heights Town Council and a VIP member of the Country Club, and could pick up the phone and have any number of men or women anxious to do his bidding in a heartbeat.

  So why was he even considering this? It was ridiculous. Insane.

  And yet...Vlane’s proposal stirred something inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. There was a new restlessness that wasn’t there before; a sense of emptiness that shadowed his every waking hour and haunted his few sleeping ones. Could he truly be content going back to the way things were before? Would he still feel this emptiness, even if he never knew why?

  Was it because he had just lost his mother? Sure, Elizabeth Corrigan had always been a huge part of his life. Mother and mentor, the woman had had a core of pure steel.

  Steel. Steel was gray, like Ryssa’s eyes. Steel was strong, like Ryssa, who dealt with death and demons but remained pure of heart.

  That was the problem right there, he realized. Ryssa. A study in contradictions, that one. A small, fragile looking creature with a vulgar mouth and the stones to stand-up to him. A women with a priceless gift who had nothing herself.

  A woman who had somehow ingrained herself indelibly upon him until she had become nothing less than an obsession.

  Of course, there was the little fact that she detested him and thought of him as an arrogant, condescending prick.

  He should just say the hell with it. Have Vlane do a Mr. Clean on his mind and go back to living happy and ignorant in his mansion, far away from all this supernatural bullshit.

  But... Masterson said he might be able to help Ryssa. To get her away from the freak Karthik for good. Maybe. If he was her destined soul mate.

  All he had to do was die.

  Eventually, David finally dozed into a restless slumber, plagued by visions of Ryssa in chains being beaten and whipped yet standing tall and daring the tall dark-haired man for more. Of diaphanous ghosts flittering around the scene, placing wagers on who would win the battle of wills while vampires licked their lips and waited for her to fall.

  A golden-haired angel hovered on the fringe of the gathered crowd, doing nothing but watching. It was the same angel who had been there for his mother. Zach.

  Why don’t you help her? David asked him.

  I might ask the same of you, Zach replied with a sad smile.

  You’re an angel! David yelled, angry. I’m just a man!

  A man perhaps, Zach countered, but the only one with the power to save her.

  I can’t be her soul mate. She hates me.

  Ryssariel is incapable of hate. She simply does not allow herself to hope.

  Zach waved his hand and the brutal scene disappeared, replaced by another. Two young girls, weaving wildflowers into each other’s hair as they sat in a meadow. Both were exceptionally beautiful. One had wings; the other didn’t.

  One was a younger version of Masterson’s wife, delicate and fragile, timid as a mouse. The other looked a lot like Ryssa, but not the Ryssa he knew. This dream Ryssa had long golden hair instead of black and shimmering golden eyes set in a face kissed by the sun. Still, David would recognize that glint of fire in her eyes and the stubborn tilt to her jaw anywhere.

  An exceptionally large snake slithered up through the tall grass, unseen until it wrapped itself around the smaller of the two children, the one without the wings. David tried to yell a warning, but no sound came out of his mouth. He waved his arms, but they never even glanced in his direction.

  “Mmmm,” the serpent hummed, its forked tongue slipping out and tasting the timid little girl first. “Faerie. I do love Faeriesssss.”

  “Leave her alone!” the winged girl demanded. She lunged at the snake, beating it with her tiny fists and feet.

  “I think not.” The serpent unhinged its jaws, white fangs glistening.

  “Take me instead!”

  “Tempting,” the cunning snake said, pretending to consider it. “But I cannot. You are an angel. It is forbidden. Unlesssssss...”

  “Ryssariel! I’m scared! Make him stop!” the little girl cried.

  “Unless what?” the winged girl asked. “Say it! I will do anything if you leave her alone.”

  “Give yourssssself to me.”

  The little angel bit her lip, clearly torn. The snake tightened its coils and elicited a pained cry from the other. “All right! Take me! Just let her go!”

  The snake unwound itself from one and slithered to the angel, poised to strike.

  “Ryssariel, no!” A boy’s voice shouted. David turned around to see a young golden-haired boy with wings emerging from the clouds, and knew instinctively he was looking at a young Zach.

  “Too late,” the snake laughed, and struck.

  The little angel screamed in agony as the snake coiled around her and latched on to her neck. David watched in horror as her golden skin paled to a pearlescent white, golden eyes turned gray, golden hair turned black. The brilliant white wings tipped in gold ripped away, leaving seeping trails of blood down her back...

  David yelled and sat up in bed. Soaked with sweat, his entire body was shaking violently. He took several deep breaths, willing his pounding heart to slow.

  Had it been a dream? Or had he seen the truth?

  Chapter 10 – It Will Only Hurt For a Minute

  “Are you certain this is what you want?”

  David nodded, stretching himself out on the grass beneath the tree. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared shitless, but that dream-that-might-not-have-been-a-dream had shaken him to his core. If he was the only one who could free Ryssa, he had to try. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself otherwise.

  The ground felt cool and just a bit dewy. He concentrated on that instead of what was about to happen.

  “I’m sure.” They had been over the plan several times. It was nearly midnight; there was nothing to be gained by waiting any longer. “Do it.”

  Vlane allowed his fangs to lengthen and sat down next to him, grabbing his arm. “Try to relax, David.”

  “Yeah. Relax. I’m on it,” he mumbled. He turned his head away; he didn’t look at the wrist now clasped in the master vamp’s unbreakable grasp. Knowing what was going to happen and watching it were two different things. On the other side of him, Ana touched his arm and he felt a wave of peace wash over him.

  “Thanks, Ana.”

  She smiled at him, counteracting the chill now invading his body with the loss of blood. “Trust in Vlane. He knows what he is doing.”

  “It’s not him I’m worried about.”

  “She will come, David.”
<
br />   God, he hoped so. “Ryssa...”

  David felt the pull of the blood leaving his body, but it wasn’t anything like he imagined. It didn’t hurt, not really, just a gentle, tugging sensation. He hadn’t even felt more than a slight bit of pressure when the fangs pierced his skin, and realized that either Vlane or Ana was making the experience as pleasant as possible for him. He appreciated the effort.

  “Ryssa...” he called out, letting his voice carry.

  Within moments, the breeze picked up, and David opened his eyes to see a familiar specter. Marcella floated over him, her eyes growing wide with alarm. “David Michael Corrigan! What are you doing?”

  David met her eyes as his life force began to fade. “Ryssa...”

  The ghost vanished. David closed his eyes and floated on a sea of numbness. Ana sat next to him, speaking quietly of how wonderful it was when you finally found the one you were meant to be with. How everything fell into place if you let it. She spoke of forever love, of unconditional love. Her voice was lovely, so soothing. It seemed like hardly any time at all had passed before he felt cool hands on his face.

  “David! Oh God, David! Look at me!”

  It was her voice, Ryssa’s voice, pulling him back from that pleasant sea of darkness in which he’d been floating.

  “You came,” he whispered.

  “Of course I came,” she snapped, and he couldn’t help but smile a little at her ire. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Dying,” he breathed. “You wouldn’t see me. Had to get your attention somehow.”

  “You had to get my... David!” She yelled at him when his eyes started closing again. Both hands closed around his head, forcing him to look into her face. How had he ever seen her as anything less than beautiful?

  His lids felt so heavy. All he wanted to do was sleep, to float on this lovely cloud of peace wrapped around him. He was so tired, so weak. Forcing his eyes to stay open, he looked over her shoulder at something behind her. “Hey. Zach, right?”

  Ryssa’s head whipped around. “Go away, Zachariel! This is a mistake. You can’t have him.”