Even Angels Fall (Book 3)

Felix

I watch Leon from the veranda as he assists in the tent assembly. Tristan hadn’t gotten the tents I specifically asked for. He ordered a marque, two of them to be exact, and their white fabric illuminates on the back portion of my property. From here, he looks perfect. No scars. No sign of deception.

Leon has always been distant and quiet. I never thought any different of him. I access the Source if only to look at his Light but it appears like Tristan’s. He’s a young Soul. It gyrates and twists with the reddish tint of Fallen lineage, normal and ordinary. So when did his scar appear and what kind of scar is it? There are only a few mortal sins that leave scars and all of them are heinous. I can’t imagine him doing any terrible thing to earn one. But as I think about Leon and all the years I’ve known him, there are large chunks of his life I don’t know about.

--

Tymician waves me over as he hurries around the driver’s side of the vehicle. Excitement bubbles in his step but he manages to stop himself from opening the passenger door, waiting patiently for me to reach the car. “You have to be careful with this one, Felix. I just got him from the Ruling. He’s a little shy.”

“After Miley and Meryl, shy is a blessing.”

He chuckles knowingly. “Come on, Leon, meet your new guardian.”

Clenching a torn and overly used bag, the recruit exits the vehicle cautiously. His eyes scanning me through dirty blond dreads. He brushes the thick tendrils aside exposing the tribal tattoos crawling along his arm.

“Nice ink.” I encourage. “I’m Felix.”

He moves his attention toward the streets, toward the house, resting his gaze finally upon the ground at our feet.

Tymician slaps him on the shoulder. “Go on inside, Leon. We’ll follow in a minute.”

I lean against the car watching him tentively climb the steps, analyzing every flower, every nook with suspicion. When the front door shuts, I scratch my scalp meeting Tymician’s humorous expression. “Shy isn’t exactly the word I would have used.”

“Leon’s impressionable. He needs a good mentor.”

“Why was the Ruling going to imprison him?”

“Human trafficking.” He shrugs. “Nothing atypical.”

---

Could Elisa be wrong by any chance? Should I hope for that.

“Come here.” Elisa grabs my hand, pulling me toward the steps. I follow, keeping my eyes off her lengthy bare legs. She needs longer shorts.

We stand in the middle of the sidewalk and she keeps a hold of my hand in her small fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching you how to form a Net.”

I yank back, “I can learn on my own.”

“But have you? I mean, here we are, on the cusp of war and you can’t even protect yourself.”

“Me?” I want to rip into her smug attitude and stomp on it. “May I remind you--”

“Come on, cutie, show me what you got. I’ll keep you in line. Make sure you don’t blow up the house.”

“Who’s going to make sure you don’t blow up the house, and everyone inside?”

Forming a Net is a simple form of control. I latch onto a piece of Light inside me and pull it into my palm. To expand it, I stretch that piece, much like a balloon. It’s round and thin, and the more Light I put inside it, the stronger and larger it becomes. But the more pressure placed upon it, by gravity or by outside forces, the more fragile it becomes. If I don’t keep the balance, it will pop and the burst is incredibly painful.

“Very good.” She remarks, eyeing the bubble. “I’m impressed. Now bring it down.”

I slowly close my one finger at a time, bring in my Light, sucking it back inside myself.

Skilled Elders don’t use a visual to form a Net. They have complete control over their Light and know how much and little is required.

Her cell phone rings and my concentration breaks.

The burst shoots me off my feet and I land on my back, clutching my hand, which sizzles from third degree burns. Smoke rises from the blistering skin and blood and tissue drip from my fingertips. My body quivers as I hold out my hand, waiting for the pain to ease. The healing is slow but it comes with grateful relief. I watch Elisa as she talks on the phone, ignorant to my suffering.

I get back on my feet, shaking the tingling from my healed hand.

Elisa beams brightly, her excitement sudden and noticeable. She hasn’t even said anything to the person on the other side of the phone. She hangs up, grinning at me. “Try again.”

“Felix!” Ema shouts from the house, bursting out of the screen door, “Dion’s alive!”

My eyes narrow on Elisa. She smirks, resting a hand upon her hip, a spaghetti strap falling over her shoulder, barring more skin. She knew about it. Just like in the car, she got the phone call Dion was killed and she said nothing. Elisa asks uninterested but she have informats and she doesn’t share. As I’ve been learning about Elders, I’ll have to watch my back with her around.

My phone rings and Misha is on the line, “I’ve heard.” I interrupt her and quickly ask. “What are the Elders doing?”

“Well, you aren’t as much of a fool as I thought.” She begins. I can hear a smile on her lips. “Splitting them up into territories may have saved you. Elders are out for themselves. By giving them each their own power, they did not feel the need to follow Abida or Jorel. But this doesn’t mean you are safe. Instead of two powerful beings, you now have twenty-three all believing they can take you down.”

I laugh at the absurdity. “As long as they don’t work together, I may win yet.”

“You just might.” She murmurs proudly.

“Isn’t that great?” Elisa begins walking up the steps, looking down at Ema. “Back from the dead.”

I follow her inside, watching as she stretches out on the couch, fanning her face.

Ema sourly glowers, “What does that mean?”

“Oh… I wonder. What sort of deals get you out of an ill-timed demise?”

“He’d never make a pact with Satan.” Ema bites brutally to my surprise.

“Why’s that, mini me? Even Tymician made a few. What makes Dion so superior?”

I snatch Ema up just as she throws herself. She kicks and claws at the air in a wild frenzy, “Shut up! You don’t know him! He’d never do that! You don’t know him at all.”

A brutal cold wind shoves through the screen door and I spin around with Ema as the gust of wind barrels into my chest, sending me back a step. Pictures fly off the wall and shatter on the wood floor. The current propels through the house, scrambling the papers on the table into a whirlwind. The map pinned to the wallpaper, twists and pulls against the thumbtacks as the fierce breeze rips it from its confines.

Elisa is in a panic on the couch, “What’s happening?”

“Nothing.” Emma slaps the heavy front door shut and the curtains billowing with the violent wind cease instanenously. She pounds up the stairs and disappears into her borrowed bedroom. Elisa and I glance at each other. Something is watching us and that something protects Ema. It’s intimidating to realize and I go to the window to search for it.

I pick up glass from the broken photo at my feet. Meryl won’t be too displeased about its destruction. When Roger and her married, Tymician forced her to have professional pictures taken. It just so happened on that day, she fought with Miley and no amount of smiling could erase the aggravation butting on her brow.

“Why do you have to fight with Ema?” I begin, scooping up the mess and finding a trashcan in the bathroom underneath the steps. “You’re an Elder, you need to act like it. I’ve got enough kids to deal with.”

Elisa hops over the couch as I approach, closing the gap between us fast. I pull back but she leans in, making me very aware of the fact that her breasts are a breath away from touching me. “Make me.” She dares.

“This isn’t a game.” I chastise. “War is coming, Elisa. And if we’re not ready by the time they get here, millions will die. And I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about doing this. Everyone that knows anything, won’t talk to me. The only one that’s willing to help is a kid, and I feel ridiculous taking advice from her but she’s all I got. I’m relying on you and you’re acting like this. You are an Elder--”

She scoffs, resting her fingertips against my pectoral. The tension rises in my muscle. “You think because I’m an Elder I can fix the world’s problems, Felix?”

The Newborn in me wants to scream, ‘Yes!’ but the person I’m becoming, the king I am slowly turning into, knows better. Why did I expect so much?

Elisa continues, “If that were true, the Darkness would have been conquered a long time ago. Forgive me.” Elisa touches my cheek. I don’t move to show her I’m not intimidated by her touches. She can’t affect me. I’m Fallen.

She pouts, pursing her plump lips, “I don’t know what I’m doing either. We’re just two dumb kids, aren’t we? We’re lonely.” She leans down, tilting, her lips even with my own, “We’re scared.” Her eyes flicker to the right and humor decorates her visage.

I turn to the steps to find Tessa there. She races back up the stairs. I roll my eyes, ignoring both of them and go about cleaning the disheveled papers.

Elisa falls on the couch, laughing. “Teenage drama. I love it. Why don’t you go after her?”

“Because we’re not together.”

“Oh, you’re being mean now. A dobber heid, aye?”

I twist my head, confused once again. She’s insulting me with odd words but it’s not a language, not one that I know of. With a hefty sigh of annoyance, I announce, “You know I’m Irish, right?”

Her smile falters, “Oh. You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

Her eyes dance along the floor. She’s no doubt searching for Irish swear words.

I sit in the recliner, resting my elbows on my knees as I plea. “Work with me, Elisa. I need your help.”

She stares at me for the first time with a stoic face. I don’t know what she’s looking for but I wait until she’s ready to say it. “The Elders don’t like you. Half the clan doesn’t believe in you. I don’t believe in you. And you shouldn’t believe in me or trust me for that matter. Why don’t you give up? Hand this clan over and you won’t have to worry anymore. You are young still. You should be having fun.”

My head drops. “I think about doing that a lot, actually. But there is one thing that always stops me.” I meet her gaze, “Tymician. I believe in him. He’s coming back. And when he does, I want to be able to return the clan back to his hands. No Elder is going to take this from me.”

“You’ll fail. Badly.” She grins wickedly, “But I’ve always been attracted to mayhem.”

The front door snaps open and Leon is at the entrance clearly agitated.

“What’s going on?”

Elisa sings, “Mayhem.” She slips on her sunglasses and stretches out on the couch.

Leon rushes and snatches my arm. “We got to get you out of here! Isis’ army just arrived down the block. They’re blowing up the street!”

Rushing out the front door, I hear the distance sound of explosions. Dread drops in my belly much like a bowling ball smacks against the floor. It’s the feeling of reality.

Isis is attacking my home.

I shout out random orders, telling the Peris to get in the tunnels and my wards to stay hidden. I run out with Tristan and Leon behind me. I’m half way up my sidewalk when I see the line of Angels round the stop sign with Erelim Elder Isis at its front. Fires burn the block behind her, illuminating the late afternoon sky. Her curling black hair sways with each wide step. I know her strut even from a distance. Smoke billows in black thick clouds. I can make out human cries mixing with the burning metal and crumbling wood.

“The Ruling.” Leon murmurs. “Felix, look at her soldiers.”

Every member stalking up behind her dresses in the black suits of the Ruling. How did she manage to get them on her side? Out of every Elder I’ve pissed off, I stopped worrying about Isis. I thought I was free of her. She doesn’t have a clan. She doesn’t have any power.

But I’m wrong. I’ve underestimated her. I’ve done so since the moment I stepped foot in her hotel.