I duck behind a boat in a stranger’s driveway. I pull out my phone and open a popular ride service app. My fingers fly across the screen as I set my pickup location and request a ride. I chew my lip, watching the screen struggle to load. It’s Friday night, and I suspect there are a lot of people trying to request a ride. I don’t doubt one will load eventually, I just hope that happens before the angels realize I’m gone and come looking for me. I have no idea if the dog I heard barking was Periwinkle—I’d been too scared of being caught to stop and figure out where the noise came from—but the longer the seconds pass where the angels don’t arrive, the more I doubt it was her.
One minute later, after nearly biting my lip off, my ride is confirmed. I wait five more minutes, my adrenaline spiking every time I hear a leaf brush against concrete or a car drive by, before my ride arrives.
I quickly get into the car and confirm with the driver where I want to go. The middle-aged woman doesn’t question the unusual location or the fact I keep looking over my shoulder every two seconds. I wonder how many weirdos she has driven for my sketchy behavior to not bother her. Maybe she thinks I’m drunk. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.
The ride is silent aside from the upbeat pop music coming through the radio. The driver hums along with the popular tune while my imagination runs wild, wondering what will happen when I walk into the abandoned warehouse. Will my parents be hidden, or will they be there to greet me? Will they be tied up? Will I be restrained?
I rub my clammy hands against my athletic pants. There is no point in worrying about such things. I’ve made my decision, and I am going into the warehouse no matter what. My parents are depending on me.
The next ten minutes fly by, and now I’m standing outside the gates of the abandoned quarry at almost half-past midnight. I made it on time.
Rocks and sand crunch beneath my feet as I approach the rusted gate. It’s tall, and I’m contemplating how to get inside when I notice a broken padlock and limp chains. Pushing open the gate, I cringe when the metal squeaks. I hadn’t expected to keep my arrival a secret, but I didn’t want to broadcast my presence, either.
Knowing there is no turning back, I straighten my spine and lift my head. I take out my phone and turn on the flashlight. Holding the light out in front of me, I walk forward. I pass buildings of varying sizes and abandoned equipment, but I don’t see anyone. I begin to worry about what will happen if I don’t find the warehouse before the scheduled meeting time when a light flips on.
I jump back and clutch my hand to my chest, startled by the sudden summons. I breathe slowly, trying to settle myself, then I walk towards the beckoning warehouse. As I draw closer, I am able to see faint illumination inside that the grime on the windows had managed to conceal.
The large, metal door swings open. I don’t stop walking. I can’t afford to give myself the chance to second guess myself. I step across the threshold and am proud of myself for not screaming when the door closes behind me. I spin around, but I don’t see anyone. I don’t know who, or what, shut the door.
“Hello, Veronica.”
Careful to not make any sudden moves, I slowly turn and look for the source of the scraggly voice.
There, standing beside what looks like a studio light stand, is a tall, slender man. I blink multiple times, stunned to see the voice of the caller doesn’t belong to a yancor demon like I had believed. The stranger’s brown hair looks oily—like it’s been days since it was washed. But he is wearing a form-fitting black suit. If it wasn’t for the fact we are meeting in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night, I might have mistaken him for an everyday business man.
My body tenses as the stranger grins. It isn’t a welcoming expression. If anything, I feel like prey being taunted by a dangerous predator. The man makes a show of glancing at an expensive watch on his wrist. “And right on time, too.” The man’s gritty voice certainly doesn’t match his sleek appearance.
“Where are my parents?” I’m surprised by the strength in my words. They don’t match the cyclone of fear and anxiety circulating throughout my body.
“They are safe. Now, come. My master is most anxious to meet you.”
I don’t move. “I want to see my parents first.”
His grin wobbles, but he manages to keep it in place. “You will see them once you speak with my master.”
“No.” I brace myself, waiting for the repercussions to my stubbornness. “I will meet with your master, but I want to see that my parents are okay.”
Now, his grin falls into a disapproving frown. Prepared for an argument, I’m taken aback when he grumbles, “Very well. This way.” He pivots on his heel and walks towards the dark recesses of the building. I only hesitate for a second before I am jogging after him, trying to keep up with his fast pace.
I slow once I catch up to him. We are winding in between tall shelves, empty of contents. Suddenly, I have the feeling of being watched. I look to the side and gasp when I see a pair of glowy, red eyes looking back at me through two shelves.
“What is it?”
Not realizing my escort has stopped, I run into his back. I immediately stumble away. “Sorry.”
The man ignores my apology. “Why did you gasp?”
I gesture towards the shelves, but the red eyes are gone. Did I imagine them?
I feel the weight of the man’s stare. I swallow and say, “Nothing. Sorry. I think it was a rat.” It’s the best lie I can come up with.
The man mutters something unintelligible before turning back and resuming his fast pace. I still feel like I’m being watched, but I refuse to look anywhere but at the man’s back.
We exit the maze of shelves and I see a thick, glass wall. Inside, I recognize my mom’s disheveled blonde hair. She looks tired but unharmed. My gaze swings to my father, and I’m more worried when I see the large, purple bruise underneath one of his eyes. Both of them are tied to a chair.
“Mom! Dad!” I take off running.
With the speed of lightening, the stranger’s arm snaps out and grabs ahold of my bicep.
I try to pull away, but his grip is strong. “What are you doing? Let me go.”
“You said you wanted to see your parents. Well, you saw them. Now it’s time to meet my master.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I object, but he’s already leading me to the left and away from the glass wall holding my parents. “I want to speak with my mom and dad first!”
“There’s plenty of time for that later. We’re almost late, and my master isn’t fond of tardiness.” I detect unease in his gruff voice, but I don’t care. Again, I attempt to free myself, but his hold is much stronger than I am. I don’t have a choice, I am going to meet his master whether I like it or not.
Twenty-Four
My escort drags me away. I stop fighting him when we start climbing a set of rusty, rickety stairs. I’m nervous the structure will crumble from the slightest movement. I don’t have time to feel relieved when we reach the landing. The grip on my arm tightens as we approach a single, wooden door in front of a small, rectangular room. It looks like the office of one of the warehouse’s previous managers.
I dig in my heels. “Wait. Give me a second.” I need to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t expecting to meet the individual responsible for my parents’ abduction in such a small space. There will be nowhere for me to run if things go bad. I need a plan.
Unfortunately, my escort doesn’t heed my request. I’m yanked forward. He opens the door and shoves me inside. I stumble for balance and end up pressing my hands against the wall in front of me to steady myself. The door closes, and I whirl around, pressing my back into the solid surface. My eyes land on my escort. He is standing in front of the door, bent over into a bow.
“Master,” he utters with reverence. “I bring you Veronica Messenger.”
I can feel my heartbeat banging against my sternum. My palms are flat on the wall, and I wish I could dig my nails into the surface. I should look to see who the
guy is talking to, but I’m frozen with fear. The voice in my head, which hated this plan from the start, is screaming at me to make a run for it.
“Excellent,” a smooth baritone murmurs. The sound is soothing. “Well done, Charles.”
“Thank you, Master.” The man—Charles—is still bowed over and facing his feet.
I wonder why he hasn’t risen yet when I hear his master say, “Rise.”
My escort complies. Though, he keeps his forehead tipped slightly forward, training his gaze below eye level.
One thousand thoughts are pounding against my skull. My eyes travel to the wall behind the subservient man, and I note an elaborate landscape painting is hanging against freshly painted walls. When I inhale, I can smell the unique fumes.
“Do you speak?” I don’t need to look to know the newest stranger is talking to me.
Despite my reservations, my head turns until I’m staring at the man seated behind the large, oak desk. My reply fades from my lips. While everything in the warehouse looks old and worn, the desk is polished to perfection. I see a golden paperweight and a quill with a black feather. This room has been renovated recently, and I get the impression it is for the devastatingly handsome man peering at me through dark green eyes.
The skin on my forehead creases. Why would the man set up an office in an abandoned warehouse? The only purpose for the building is to coordinate a meeting so I can free my parents.
Or is it? I’m starting to think that might not be the case.
Seeing my reaction to him, as well as the surroundings, the stranger smiles. Unlike his servant, the gesture is dangerously close to welcoming. “You’re nervous. I understand. But I do need you to speak if we are to conduct our meeting. Once we’re finished, you and your parents will be free to go.”
His words fill me with hope, giving me the strength I need to push off the wall and turn my entire body towards him. “You’ll really let me and my parents leave?”
The handsome stranger looks offended. His eyebrows turn down. “Of course, I am an angel of my word. But we must speak before any of you will be permitted to leave.”
“Y-you’re an angel?” I eye him, looking for a hint of his otherworldly status. My interactions with my four angelic bodyguards give me a false sense of comfort. For a moment, I’m tricked into believing if the stranger is an angel, he can’t be all that bad.
Then I remember I’m basically considered an abomination. If this angel knows about my parents, and the fact I’m half-light and half-dark, something tells me he won’t be as amicable as my ex-high school teacher or my kickboxing instructor. I force myself to continue seeing him as an enemy. Turns out, that isn’t hard to do. After all, he did abduct my parents.
With a patient smile, he answers, “I am.” Then, a pair of white wings flare out behind him. The size of the room seems to shrink as the wings extend, nearly spanning fifteen feet.
His presence fills every crevice and space in the room. I don’t know what this angel wants with me, but I don’t doubt he is powerful. Call me crazy, but I can sense it.
“Who are you?” I cross my arms over my chest. “And why am I here?”
The stranger dons a horrified expression. “Forgive me. Where are my manners? My name is Lukas. Pleased to meet you, Veronica.”
I refuse to be placated by his politeness. “Why am I here?” I repeat.
Lukas leans back in the leather chair, observing me like I’m a unique puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You are here so we can talk with one another, Veronica.” His green eyes shine with excitement.
“What do we need to talk about?” My gaze flicks to Charles on my right. He’s still tilted into a passive stance.
“Why, your recent transformation, of course. And your father, obviously.”
My eyes snap back to him. “You know who my father is?” I’m both eager and nervous to learn the identity of one of my biological parents. None of my bodyguards had been aware of my father’s name. It’s a piece of information I’d been wondering about since I first learned of my angelic heritage. Anticipation causes my heartrate to go up another notch.
Some of the light fades from Lukas’ gaze, along with his smile. “No. I was hoping you would be able to reveal his identity.”
Instantly, I’m deflated. I sigh. “No… I was adopted. I don’t know anything about my birth parents.”
“Hm.” He presses his lips into a firm line. “It seems your adoptive parents were telling the truth.”
Alarms go off in my mind. “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” I ask in a rush, terrified by the idea my parents might learn what I am. What if they think I’m a freak? What if they kick me out of their house?
The voice in the back of my head tells me I’m overreacting, but I cannot control the unease I feel just thinking my parents might know I’m the offspring of an angel.
“Relax.” Lukas stands and moves around the desk. “They know nothing about who you really are.” He steps in front of the piece of furniture and leans back to rest on its edge. His palms are placed on top of the surface, and he looks completely at ease.
I swallow the lump in my throat and ask, “And who am I?”
The light returns to his green eyes. “You, Veronica Messenger, are a blessing.”
I pull back a bit.
That isn’t what I expected him to say. “I’m sorry?”
Lukas looks at me with unveiled interest. “You are a blessing. Nephilim are rare, and your existence has gone unnoticed for so long. You’re a blessing.”
I am unnerved by his repetitive statement. “I wouldn’t exactly consider being hunted by demons a blessing.” The words are out of my mouth before I even take the time to think about them. His stare is almost adoring, and it’s creeping me out.
But like a light switch, his personality flips. “Demons?” He growls low. “Did you just say demons?”
I blink, not sure what to make of his reaction. “Yes… the yancor demons.” The ones you sent to hunt me down. I bite my cheek to hold the last thought back.
Lukas shoves himself off the table, and the force of the move sends the desk sliding back into the wall. His blatant show of strength makes me take two steps back.
“Demons have tracked you?” He sounds appalled and furious in equal measure. I don’t know what to say. I’d thought he and the yancor demons had been working together. Obviously, I’d been wrong.
But the weirdest part is Lukas sounds like he’s outraged on my behalf…
But why would he care?
I lick my lips. “I thought you were working with the demons.”
“Never.” His eyes darken. “What would make you think that?”
I shrug and stutter, “I-I don’t know. The demons attacked me twice, and I thought I saw one downstairs.” Really, I thought I saw a pair of red eyes which belonged to a demon. But that’s the same thing.
Lukas and his servant react at the same time.
“Stay in here with the Nephilim, Master,” Charles shouts as he moves toward the door and a pair of white wings pop out of his back, ripping through the expensive suit jacket. He’s an angel, too.
“Sound the alarm,” Lukas commands at the same time. “We have company.”
On cue, a loud crash hits the door. I scream from the surprise of the sound, as well as the heightened anxiety filling the room. I muffle the sound with my hands.
Instead of admonishing me for my lack of control, Lukas spins around to face me. In two steps, he closes the distance between us. Then, he grabs my hands and stares deep into my eyes.
“Do not be afraid.” Lukas’ gaze flickers from one eye to another, and I know he’s noticed my heterochromia when I see the slight widening of his eyelids. “Nothing will happen to you. We will deal with the demons.”
Then, before I can ask why he would bother to console me, he and Charles disappear through the front door. Immediately, I hear angry growls and grunts as a fight begins. I try to get a glimpse of who is outside, but I only mana
ge to see one streak of scaly skin before the door closes. A bright golden light illuminates the edges of the door, and my jaw drops as I see the light creep along the edges of the wall. I whirl around, watching the evidence of angelic power as it covers every inch of the room. I’m surrounded. The room is silent, and I can’t hear what’s happening outside.
I rush to the door and bang on its surface. “Let me out!” I shout. “Please! What about my parents?” My fist bounces against the illuminated door, but I don’t get a response. I whimper and continue banging, screaming for someone to let me out. I think of my parents, and I pray to God the demons have not found them tied up in the room below. They won’t stand a chance against the yancor demons.
The skin on the side of my hand is red, but I don’t stop hitting the door. “Let me out. I’ll do anything! Just let me out.” I don’t care what it takes to get out of this room to free my parents, I’ll do it. They are in danger because of me, and I will never be able to live with myself if something happens to them. I’d rather die.
A warmth grows in the palm of my hands.
My prayers, it seems, are answered.
I step back and lift my hands, looking at the Angel Fire licking against my skin, but I don’t feel its burn. If anything, the warmth is soothing and pleasant. The Angel Fire appeared so quickly last time, I didn’t have the chance to really examine it. This time, though, I cannot deny the angelic power is comforting. And, better yet, it makes me feel strong.
Unsure of what I’m doing, I tentatively place my hands against the door. The wood beneath my touch ignites. I stumble back. With wide eyes, I watch as my Angel Fire turns red and burns through the door.
Twenty-Five
I wait until the burning has engulfed a good portion of the door before I dare step through. I suspect the Angel Fire won’t harm me, but I’m not brave enough to test it.
I keep my hands up near my chest, ready to use my Angel Fire the moment a demon comes my way. But as my eyes take in the scene in front of me, my hands cover my mouth as I gag. The Angel Fire sputters out.
Claimed by the Fallen: A Fallen Angel Reverse Harem Novel (The Fallen Harem Book 1) Page 17