Page 39 of Semi-Fallen

“Put me down, you Neanderthal!” she shouted. “It was my decision to come here, and I’m not going home until I’m damn good and ready!”

“Oh, is that fucking so?” he muttered, shifting her weight so she couldn’t easily hit him again.

And with that, he dove back through the open rift with Haven still safely over his shoulder and disappeared. The rift winked out of existence a split second later.

With a growl of frustration, Lucien tore open a new rift to go after them, but Lane jumped in front of him. It’s fine, she signed frantically. Haven is safe. He’s been stalking her for months. But he’d never hurt her. He just steps in whenever he thinks she’s in danger and takes her home. We don’t need her now that the door is open, right?

“No,” he admitted. But he couldn’t say he was 100% comfortable letting a demon who’d been stalking her for months run off with Haven. Especially after he’d promised her mother and father he’d defend her with his life.

There was a good chance that if they made it out of this mess alive, Harper would destroy him.

It’s fine, Lane repeated. Trust me.

Well, if Lane had that much faith in the demon, he supposed he could, too.

She held out a hand to him. Are you ready? she mouthed.

Was he ready to take his fated mate, the other half of his soul, into a Heavenly dimension that might destroy both of them? No, absolutely not.

But somehow, when she smiled at him like she was now, he couldn’t help but think anything was possible.

“As I’ll ever be, love. As I’ll ever be.”

CHAPTER 20

The room past the door was no less gaudy than the one outside. Golden floors and crown moldings, paintings depicting holy wars all over the walls and ceilings…it was a lot to take in. It actually made Lane a little dizzy from visual overload. Or maybe it was the overwhelming scent of petrichor that was making her feel lightheaded.

Or the fear of imminent death.

Whatever the reason, she was dizzy.

Lucien, as usual, seemed to sense her unease, because he put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side. Under any other circumstances, in any other place, she would’ve kissed him. And maybe copped a feel. But under these circumstances, in this place, she kept her lips and hands to herself.

She was glad she did, too, because that’s when she noticed the man sitting behind the biggest, gold, antique-looking desk she’d ever seen in her life. And he was looking at her and Lucien like they were cockroaches crawling across the gilded floor.

Mr. Judgmental didn’t look like an angel. Not that Lane had seen many angels. But if Lucien was any indication of what other angels looked like, this guy was not typical.

He was sitting down so it was hard to tell for sure, but based on what she could see of him over the huge desk, he wasn’t much taller than Lane, and might’ve even weighed less.

His tiny, delicate frame was covered in a black bespoke suit and red silk tie, and he eyed Lucien’s jeans and black T-shirt with disdain as he glared at him over the tops of his gold-framed, oval-shaped glasses.

“You don’t belong here, soldier,” he said.

He might’ve said something after that, too, but Lane couldn’t read it on his lips because she just noticed what was behind Mr. Judgmental.

Row after row after row of books. Leather-bound books of all page lengths lined gold shelves for as far and wide as Lane could see. It looked like they went on forever—and given where they were, she supposed they just might.

It was amazing. Haven would be so pissed she’d missed seeing this place!

Lucien’s grip tightened on her, drawing her gaze to his mouth.

“We need information,” he said. “This girl. Do you know who ferried her parents to Heaven…or Hell? Or, in lieu of that, give me the name and location of a fallen reaper.”

If possible, the man’s pointy little features took on an even more pinched look as he blew out a harsh breath that ruffled the blond curls falling across his brow. “I don’t have to tell you anything, soldier. This is a sacred place and neither of you belong here. I’ll kindly ask you to leave before I’m forced to call Michael.”

Lane felt her brows rise up into her hairline of their own volition. Michael as in Michael the archangel? This place was Michael the archangel’s domain?

Lucien seemed unconcerned, though, as he shrugged and said, “You could try. But I’m guessing she could kill you before you could put the call out.”

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