Page 15 of Semi-Fallen

He was not, in fact, ready for whatever they threw at him.

First of all, Lucien had never seen knives fly so fast as when he appeared back in Lane’s room with her in tow. She’d intelligently dropped to the floor the second they arrived, so she was safe. He, on the other hand…

There were now three knives in his chest.

He’d dodged a handful of others, plus a crossbow bolt from Harper, but those three knives struck true before he could evade them. Riddick, Seven, and the small halfer (a vampire/wererat combo) named Benny were the lucky winners of the “stab an angel in the heart” game today.

Lane had let out the tiniest of whispers to get everyone’s attention (and to stop her mother and father from ripping his head off), then had scrambled off the floor to put herself between him and the semi-humans who wanted him dead.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. In one respect, he was grateful. Her mother was frightening when she was angry, and Mischa was good and pissed at him. Malevolence was rolling off her in waves. Lucien could’ve handled her, but not easily, and not without damaging her. And he didn’t want to do that.

But the thought of Lane potentially getting hurt because she was trying to protect him was humbling. Terrifying, too. He’d accumulated many, many regrets over the course of his long life, but somehow he knew that Lane being hurt—or worse—because of him was something from which he’d never recover.

“Get out of the way, sweetheart,” Hunter said to Lane, then lifted his hands, preparing to grab Lucien in another magical chokehold so that his friends could do…whatever it was they did. Torture, maim and behead if he remembered correctly. It was all part of the potential agenda.

Harper raised her crossbow, aiming it over Lane’s head. Lucien had no doubt she could hit him. Lane was brave to stand in front of him, but she was so much shorter than him that she wasn’t much of a shield.

And while Harper had him in her sights, Riddick, Seven, and Benny slowly circled, effectively surrounding him where he stood.

I’m not moving, Lane signed to her father. He’s not here to hurt me. I won’t let you hurt him. Besides, we need him for what’s coming.

Lucien made the mistake of laying his hands on Lane’s shoulders at that moment. He wasn’t sure why he did it. He imagined it was to silently convey his gratitude for her willingness to not only believe and defend him, but also to trust him with her safety.

Her mother, however, felt no such gratitude. With a snarl, she charged, and it was only the arm Gabriel slung around her waist that held her back. “What’s coming?” he asked calmly, as if he wasn’t struggling to contain a vampire who could probably destroy him where he stood.

Lane had obviously read the question on Gabriel’s lips, because she glanced back at Lucien for an answer. He wished he had one that wasn’t terrifying.

“The wrath of Heaven.”

That seemed to give them pause. Everyone but the halfer, that is, who said, “Is that a metaphor? Shit, I hope that’s a metaphor.”

“I wish it was,” Lucien answered.

More silence ensued while everyone digested that bit of gloom and doom before Benny swallowed audibly and muttered, “Well…shit.”

Shit, indeed.

CHAPTER 9

Harper sat at the head of a long conference room table in Section 8’s war room, rubbing her temples. “So…Lane is an ancient Nephilim, you were sent here on a mission to kill her, but you don’t want to, so now others will come and try to kill her?”

Lane nodded. Leave it to Harper to cut through all the bullshit and lay everything out so succinctly.

“That’s about it,” Lucien said.

All around her, Lane saw lips moving, but none speaking out clearly. They were murmuring—either to each other, or to themselves. She didn’t blame them. This was a lot to take in.

But she wasn’t entirely comfortable with this situation, either. Being excluded sucked ass. It made her feel…vulnerable. And she hated feeling vulnerable.

Her mom and dad, Gabriel, Riddick, Harper, Haven, Tina, Seven, Seven’s husband Lucas, dhampyres Nikolai and Quinn, Benny…they were all here.

These people had been in her corner, caring for her, loving her, accepting her for exactly who and what she was for as long as she could remember. She adored each and every one of them, and they adored her.

But until now, they’d never truly known just how freakish she was. She was a heavenly abomination, for God’s sake. Or…for someone’s sake. She wasn’t sure whose.

Now she knew why Harper was rubbing her temples. This whole mess really was headache inducing and as confusing as the time travel logistics in The Terminator franchise.

Her father leaned forward in his seat and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Why should we believe anything this angel has to say?”

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