Page 18 of Semi-Fallen

“Fallen angels. It’s as Benny described. Angels who choose to live among humans. They give up all contact with Heaven.”

Lucien had always been horrified by tales of the fallen. Now he wasn’t sure which was worse: learning his purpose could be wrong, or not having one at all.

Hunter, who’d been silently glaring at his daughter’s hand clasped so tightly around Lucien’s, said, “If they defied Heaven, why weren’t they destroyed?”

“Not all angels are soldiers,” Lucien answered. “Soldiers can’t fall. But there are angels who handle…other aspects of Heaven who have that option.”

When he didn’t immediately elaborate, Harper let out an impatient sigh. “I’m getting old here, pal. Can we move it along? What ‘other aspects’, exactly?”

He wasn’t trying to withhold information. But explaining everything about his existence to beings who had next-to-zero knowledge of it was exhausting. “There are angels who are muses to human creativity. Guardian angels and reapers. Heavenly clerics and historians. Judges who determine human worthiness to enter the gates of Heaven. Those who guide fate and make matches—”

“Whoa,” Benny interrupted, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Matches…you mean like Cupid?”

“Cupids are angels, yes. They make matches designed to preserve humanity.” Lucien frowned. “But I doubt any Cupids have chosen to fall. They’re generally a very jovial bunch.”

“Of course they are,” Harper murmured. “They get to make people fall in love. Reapers, though…that’s gotta get old. Out of the types of angels you just mentioned, I’m betting they’re the most likely to fall.”

Grudgingly, Lucien admitted, “You’re probably correct.”

“Reapers ferry the dead to their final resting place, right?” Haven asked.

“Yes.”

She twirled a coil of hair around her pinkie. “So, if you could find a fallen reaper who’d taken Nephilim to Heaven or Hell—or maybe even the reaper who’d taken Lane’s parents to their…you know…final place—they might know something, right?”

“They might indeed,” Lucien said quietly.

In fact, the reaper who’d ferried the souls of Lane’s parents to Heaven or Hell might be a better bet than a fallen reaper. Especially if said reaper was sympathetic to Lane’s plight.

He did wonder, though, how Lane would handle knowing more about her birth parents.

He could only hope this course of action didn’t cause her even more pain.

Lane turned to her adoptive parents and signed, Are you both OK with this?

Her mother frowned. “No way. I don’t trust this angel any farther than I can throw him. If he so much as looks at you funny, I’m going to rip his heart out and feed it to him.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Heaven’s soldier, my ass.”

“No offensive intended, I’m sure,” Lucien said dryly.

She snorted. “Oh, no, full offense intended.”

Hunter shook his head and gave his wife a fond half-smile. “I don’t think she’s talking about the angel, love. I think she’s asking if we’re comfortable with her learning about her birth parents.”

Mischa sat up straighter. “Oh. Well…that’s different.”

Lane chewed nervously on her thumbnail before signing, You know I’m happy with how my life turned out, right? I’d never want to replace you. You’re my real parents.

Once again, Lane had managed to surprise him. Anyone else might’ve been tempted to think of themselves. Her thoughts were only with her adoptive parents and how they might feel if she was to learn more about her birth parents.

Hunter took his wife’s hand and offered his daughter a warm smile. “You don’t have to worry about us. You come first. You always have, you always will. Our feelings are totally irrelevant in this situation. But…we do appreciate your concern. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t continually putting the needs of others before your own.”

Mischa couldn’t seem to find words, but her expression when she looked at her daughter was so full of naked emotion that no one would ever doubt her devotion and support.

Lane silently mouthed, “I love you” to her parents, who signed back the same.

Lucien glanced away, suddenly feeling like an intruder in their moment. They were so open with each other. Warm. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever known such warmth in his life.

Which was…pitiful, actually.

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