Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Nine
Ella
I awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly and glancing around me. I was in the small convent room, light sifting in through the window, and Sara slumbering on her bed against the opposite wall. Not much time could have passed, since it was still light, but why hadn’t Dominick come to get me? I’d been sure he would have appeared by now—at least to check on me—and irritation flared inside me.
Swinging my legs onto the floor, I stood up, scooped up my shoes in one hand, and moved quietly across the room. I didn’t want to wake Sara—she’d been exhausted, and she was still healing—but I had no intention of stewing in my room while listening to her snore. I opened the door slowly, slipping out into the hall in my bare feet. Only when I’d pulled the door shut as softly as possible did I slip on my sandals and walk down the hall to the room Dominick and Rami were sharing.
“Dom.” I tapped lightly on the blond-wood door, whispering his name at the crack in case they were also resting.
No response. I rapped louder, calling out his name more sharply. Nothing.
I glanced around the empty hallway, light from the large, arched windows streaming in. If they’d left their room, where did they go? I doubted they’d have left the property, since we were supposed to be keeping a low profile, and nothing about the two gorgeous fallen angels was low profile. The moment the pair stepped outside the guesthouse they would attract stares.
I continued to the lobby foyer, grateful to find the same woman behind the desk who welcomed us earlier.
She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “How is your room, dear?”
“It’s lovely,” I said, which wasn’t entirely untrue. The room was perfectly clean and charming in a monastic way. “Did you happen to see where our two male companions went? I knocked on their door and no one answered. They didn’t change rooms, did they?” If Dominick had gotten himself upgraded to some sort of convent presidential suite, I was going to kill him.
The woman’s smile widened. “No, dear. They went down to the basilica and, I believe, the Lithostratos.”
“Right.” I nodded like I knew what that was.
“The part of the Roman street that’s underneath our convent,” she said, clearly seeing through my act. “It was excavated and is now available to tour.” She handed me a pamphlet and motioned with her head in the direction of the basilica. “You can join them, if you wish.”
I took the pamphlet and followed her vague gesture. “Thanks.”
It made sense that Dom and Rami might be interested in seeing the ancient street. There was a decent chance they’d walked on it before. That thought sent a chill through me, an unsettling reminder that my boyfriend was indeed immortal, and had witnessed history I’d only read about.
I made my way through the pilgrim house until I located the entrance to the underground excavations, wishing I’d brought a cardigan, when I felt the cooler air wafting up from below. Holding the wooden railing, I carefully descended, pausing at the bottom for my eyes to adjust to the low lighting.
Like the building above, the walls below were stone as was the floor. I passed through a tall arch and narrow passageways before reaching wall displays describing the origins and history of the discovery. So far, I’d seen no evidence of anyone else although I thought I heard the faint rumble of voices further away.
Rubbing my arms for warmth, I continued walking. The rumble I’d thought was voices was masked by the sound of more voices behind me—female voices approaching from the stairs I’d just used. I let out a small sigh of relief at the sound of the cheery voices. At least I wasn’t alone in a dank, underground cavern anymore.
I ducked under another low arch, entering a low-ceilinged room with glowing sconces on the uneven stone walls. The female voices had gone quiet, and I could hear the deeper voices again. My heart leapt when I recognized the exotic purr of Dominick’s voice, and I walked briskly to the next archway. Pausing before entering, I hiked my purse onto my shoulder and gave my arms another rub, to get rid of the goose bumps prickling my flesh. Then I heard the voices clearly.
“Can I really stand in the way of her chance at a celestial life?”
My breath caught in my throat. Was he talking about me? My throat tightened. Of course, he was. Who else could he mean? Who else but a demi-angel like me could have a chance at a celestial life? Not even he had that.
I leaned one hand on the cool stone wall as my legs wobbled and my purse slipped off my shoulder, smacking the floor. I held my breath, hoping they hadn’t heard me and snatched my bag from the floor, backing away.
“Allow Gabriel to take her?” Rami’s voice echoed off the stone, reaching me and making fear ice my veins.
I shook my head. This couldn’t be happening. Dominick couldn’t actually be considering giving me up. Not after everything.
Nausea made me clutch a hand over my stomach as I turned and ran on my tiptoes away from Dom and Rami and from the Lithostratos. I barreled past the approaching women, not even pausing to look up at them or mumble an apology for my haste. When I’d raced up the stairs and stood at the top, gulping down lungfuls of warm air, I finally allowed myself to exhale.
“It’s not true,” I whispered to myself. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Dominick didn’t even trust Gabriel. How could he contemplate letting the archangel take me? Anger swelled within in me. How dare he think he could decide anything about me. He didn’t get to say what I did or where I went, even if he was some big-shot, mob boss, immortal angel. And no way did he get to allow anyone—even an archangel like Gabriel—to do anything when it came to me.
I stormed through the building, muttering darkly to myself. At least this explained why Dominick hadn’t put up a fight about us having separate rooms. Despite fucking my brains out the night before, he’d been considering letting me go.
Tears stung the backs of my eyelids, but I blinked them away, refusing to cry. I was too furious to cry. Maybe a few weeks ago something like this would have sent me for a loop, but a lot had happened to me since then. I was no longer the overworked doormat who let other people take advantage of her.
“I’m a damn demi-angel,” I muttered to myself. “I’m the daughter of the fucking archangel Gabriel.”
I glanced up as I walked through the lobby, registering the shocked expression on the previously friendly woman behind the desk. “Affirmations,” I told her, not slowing my pace as I headed for my room, my feet slapping the floor loudly.
Dominick Vicario was about to find out what happened when you pissed off a demi-angel.
