Fallen Angel Reclaimed: The Complete Series by Lacey Carter Andersen
9
Tristan,Daniel, and Clarence moved to the Carter’s driveway as the woman climbed out of her car. To his surprise, she was young, perhaps her early twenties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, a pink sweater that looked worn, and white capri pants. When she closed her door, she turned around, looked at them, jumped slightly, and gave a nervous laugh.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
He gave a warm smile. “We’re friends of Richard’s. We came to visit with him between flights.”
A guarded look came over her face. “He went to a conference.”
“Oh,” he glanced at the farmer and Tristan. “That’s disappointing. He’s always talking about his beautiful wife and home. We thought we’d finally get a chance to meet you and see a little about his life after college.”
She picked nervously at the sleeve of her jacket. “Richard doesn’t like me around men without him.”
Daniel had to work like hell to keep his anger from showing. She looked terrified. No real man would scare a woman like this.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the three of us, right?” he asked, using his demon-abilities.
Some of the nervousness left her expression. “I guess. Come in then. I can make coffee.”
They followed her inside, but not before Daniel paused at the door to look around. Why were there no angels guarding her?
He has to be the one creating this torture for the Goddess of Life, right? Or does he have nothing to do with it?
They walked through an immaculately clean home and to the little table inside a big kitchen. She immediately put a kettle on the stove, switching the flame on. He swallowed hard, pulling his gaze from the fire. It called to him, coaxing him to connect with it, just a little.
Focus! “Nichole?”
The woman startled again, a reflex like an animal of prey. “Yes? Did you—did you need—I forgot snacks. Gosh, I’m so dumb. I’ll get them.”
Daniel rose from his chair, the wood legs scraping against the tile. “No, please, sit down.”
She shook her head and went to the fridge. “Richard always says how rude I can be. I’ll make a plate of cheese and—“
He had crossed the room without thinking and took her wrist. “Richard is an asshole. You don’t need to wait on us like a servant.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.
We need to get her out of here, but if we can do it without freaking the hell out of her, we should.
Especially since we can’t just teleport away with her now.
“Have you ever felt like you didn’t belong in this world? Like it fit like a bad outfit.”
He didn’t know what he expected. Denial. Fear. Uncertainty.
But instead, she whispered. “Yes. Every moment.”
His heart clenched. “Well, that’s because you don’t belong here. You’re a goddess, Nichole. A creature meant for bigger and better things than a loveless marriage and a life without happiness.”
She stared. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath, knowing he was taking a risk. “Ever read any books about magic and other worlds?”
She nodded.
“Well, all of that exists.”
Her brows drew together. “I’m sorry, but is this a joke?”
“No,” he denied quickly.
“Because this feels like something Richard would do. All of this actually does. The last time I talked with a friendly man, Richard had paid him to do it, to show what a slut I am.”
“Holy fuck,” Daniel muttered, before he could stop himself. “No, we aren’t being paid by Richard to torture you. Actually, how would you like to never have to be around that asshole again?”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I can never escape him.”
He released her wrist. “Yes, you can. And we’re here to set you free. Come with us, Nichole.”
“Where?”
Tristan rose behind them, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “To a world outside of this one. Where I’m a gargoyle and you are a goddess.”
With his last spoken word, he shifted. His skin turned grey and wings grew from his back.
She shot away, her back hitting the fridge behind her. “You’re—you’re…”
The farmer spoke. “I just found out about all this nutty stuff too, but it’s true. You aren’t going crazy or anything like that, but we need to leave, and fast. The bad guys that came after me might be here too.”
She stared at all of them for a long moment. “So, you’re here to take me away from Richard, to a world with magic. Where I’m a goddess?”
They all nodded.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched her hands. “Okay, let’s go.”
Wow, that was easy.
Together they moved through the house and back toward the front door. Without Surcy to teleport them, it’d be difficult to get to where they needed to go. But Tristan could take them.
Then, the door opened.
They all froze.
A man stood in the door with short, white hair and pale silver eyes. From his back, red wings sprouted.
“Richard,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re home early.”
His mouth curled into a sick smile. “And where do you think you’re going?”
For a minute he wondered, did the angel know what they were? Did he know why they were there? And then, he remembered that Tristan no longer wore his glamour.
This creature knew exactly what was going on.
Tristan moved so that he stood in front of them. “An arch-angel… I thought Caine did away with your kind. I thought he didn’t like any other beings to have that kind of power.”
The angel’s sickening smile widened. “Well, you were wrong.” He lifted his hand, pointed it at Tristan, and the gargoyle exploded raining down dust on all of them.
Coughing, Daniel’s heart racing. What the fuck just happened?Tristan? Tristan!
No, it couldn’t have happened. Tristan was a gargoyle! No one was powerful enough to destroy him so easily!
The dust settled, and there, inches from him, the arch-angel stood. And Tristan? He was gone, leaving behind nothing but a pile of dust and stone.
“What did you do to him?” Daniel’s voice shook with rage.
The creature smirked. “The same thing I’m going to do to you. But raining demon-flesh is a little messier.”
“Run!” he shouted to the Immortals.
The farmer didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the woman’s arm, and they raced for the back door.
“How… cute. You think they’ll escape me.”
Daniel moved backwards, one slow step at a time. His mind racing. How could he save the Immortals? How could he stop this being?
And then, the little flame beneath the kettle came into his view. And he knew.
Gesturing slightly with his hand, he called the flame. It jumped from the stove to the counters, cabinets and floor, it leapt to the little curtain on the window above the sink and began to devour it all. Energy coursed through Daniel, and power.
The angel saw none of it, his gaze focused on Daniel. “You’ve made such a terrible mistake, thinking you could overpower Caine. Instead, you brought another Immortal straight into our hands.”
Daniel swallowed hard, trying not to look back at the flames. “They were guarded this whole time. Nothing has changed.”
He drew back his lips, revealing sharp teeth. “Everything has changed. Caine has decreed that the last of the Immortals in our care will be brought to him. No more games. And… and this is the best part. He’s decided that your lives are forfeit. At last.”
“Nothing was stopping him from killing us before.”
The angel cocked its head. “Do you know why Caine doesn’t like arch-angels? Because to create us, he must link himself to us. That means we can read pieces of his thoughts. We can sense some of his emotions. And do you know what I’m sure of?”
Smoke was beginning to rise, and the kitchen was nearly consumed. How has the angel not sensed it?
“The Fate told him that upon your deaths, he would lose the war against the Immortals. But when your little friend, Mark, died, he realized something. You didn’t have to stay dead. And there’s a way to ensure your use to him.”
Sweat poured down Daniel’s face and his arms. The fire moved out of the kitchen and into the living room, smoke billowing, filling the room.
At last, the angel looked at it, then back at him. “Oh, how delightful. You thought to kill me with your fire.”
Suddenly, the angel disappeared.
Daniel looked around, heart racing, but the angel was nowhere to be seen.
Turning, he raced for the backdoor, but when he pulled on the handle, it wouldn’t open. On the other side of the door, the archangel smiled. His words came as clearly as if he was standing beside Daniel, whispering in his ear.
“You remember how painful it was to die by fire, fire-mage? How about angel-fire?”
Turning, he watched as the orange flames turned to blue. No! He had no control over that type of fire. It was too hot and too powerful.
The room grew painfully warm. The black smoke billowed, darker and heavier, consuming the oxygen.
Daniel turned back to the glass door and threw himself at it, but it held. Over and over again he tried to break the glass, but then he saw the glass, sparkling against the light of the angel-fire. And he knew. It had been enchanted.
The fire was everywhere now, sealing him into the living room.
There was nowhere to go.
Moving closer to the flames, he knelt down where the dust from Tristan lay. He picked it up in one of his hands, and sat, closing his eyes. This would not be a quick death. It would be slow and horrible.
But at least he still had Tristan.
And maybe the Immortals might even escape.
At the window, he sensed the archangel, drinking in the sight of what would soon happen.
But his enemies didn’t matter, only Surcy, Tristan, and Mark mattered. At least in death he would be reunited with them. Even if only for a short time before Caine destroyed their souls.
