Page 49 of Semi-Fallen

Harper steepled her fingers under her chin. “Excellent. Those are my favorite words in the English language.”

CHAPTER 25

After a lengthy argument that ended in a round of rock, paper, scissors (Benny’s idea) between Seraphina, Lucien, Carl, and Evangelyn, it was ultimately Seraphina who called Rion.

Lucien would never admit it aloud, but he was glad he didn’t have to do it. Rion had never liked him, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have destroyed him on sight. At least with Seraphina making the call, there was a chance Rion wouldn’t appear and burn the whole place to the ground before anyone had a chance to speak.

There was a collective holding of breath after Seraphina chanted the Enochian phrase that would alert Rion to their location and request his presence.

Lucien understood—and shared—everyone’s trepidation. He couldn’t stop himself from taking Lane’s hand and sandwiching it between his own, watching her instead of the growing rift that might usher in their destruction.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. So much he wanted to share. But before he could get too far into his own head about what they were about to face, she tugged her hands out of his grasp and signed, Don’t you dare look at me like that. This is not the end. For any of us. Do you hear me?

“Damn straight,” Haven muttered.

A chorus of dhampyres chimed in their own agreement.

Lucien grabbed her and kissed the hell out of her while the earth began to shake under their feet and the air became charged with a kind of power that all the supernatural beings in the room combined couldn’t replicate. He poured everything he was thinking and feeling into that kiss, because if she wouldn’t let him tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was going to be if this ill-advised plan of Evangelyn’s ended in their death, he’d damn well show her.

She kissed him back, matching every bit of his intensity with her own, until they broke apart, gasping for breath, nearly choking on the petrichor and power in the air.

“Here we go,” Harper muttered, staring into the rift as the archangel Rion stepped through with a look of pure disdain riding his features.

Clearly Rion didn’t want to be here every bit as much as Lucien didn’t want him here. They’d just both have to be disappointed on that front, he imagined.

Lucien tucked Lane behind him and was relieved to feel her parents step up and flank her. There wasn’t much any of them could do if Rion decided to go on a killing spree, but Hunter and Mischa were maybe strong enough to buy Lane a few minutes in which Evangelyn could teleport her out of there.

Not that she’d actually go if he told her to. But the thought that maybe she could gave him at least a modicum of comfort.

That comfort dissipated as Rion turned his eyes on Lucien and scowled. “I should’ve known it’d be you. Nearly every bit of trouble I’ve had for the past century has had you at its center.” Then he glanced around at Harper and her crew. “And I see you’ve drawn humans into whatever drama this is. Fabulous.”

You wouldn’t know by looking at him that Rion was a powerful archangel. His simple jeans and T-shirt made him look better suited to a shopping trip at the mall than to smiting anyone, and with his powerful wings tucked away safely, his blond curls and round cheeks gave him an almost delicate, boyish appearance.

But even though Lucien probably outweighed him by seventy pounds and was four inches taller, there was something in the way Rion carried himself that let everyone in the room know he was the most powerful being there. By a lot.

Harper and her team were uncharacteristically quiet as Rion stopped within punching distance of Lucien. Even though they stood toe-to-toe, Rion visually dismissed him and glanced over at Seraphina. “Why have you called me, child?”

Seraphina swallowed hard and opened her mouth to answer, but Lucien cut her off. “I asked her to call.”

He raised a brow. “Bold, considering how long you’ve been failing me.”

The tension that rolled through the room was so thick it threatened to choke Lucien. He could only imagine how much it was costing Harper and Lane’s parents to remain silent.

Evangelyn, however, didn’t seem at all bothered as she stepped up next to Lucien and crossed her arms over her chest. “We summoned you for an explanation.”

Rion laughed out loud at that. But the sound was not at all jovial. When his laughter died down into the occasional chuckle, he said, “You, a rogue reaper, think I, an archangel, could owe any of you an explanation? That’s priceless.” His eyes narrowed. “And traitorous.”

The urge to punch the smug bastard was nearly overwhelming. “Oh, we don’t necessarily need an explanation,” Lucien said as calmly as he could manage. “But I’m thinking Michael—and God—might when they find out you decided to hunt and destroy Nephilim without their blessing.”

Until that moment, Lucien had never seen anyone’s skin go purple with rage. The floor trembled beneath their feet until Rion was able to regain his composure. “You know as well as I do that God hasn’t spoken to any of us for eons. Decisions had to be made, and who else was going to do it? You?” He snorted. “You soldiers aren’t capable of making those kinds of calls. You need orders to follow, and I gave them.”

“You were wrong,” Seraphina whispered.

Again with the floor trembling. Rion’s thunderous gaze turned on Seraphina. “I was what?”

“Wrong,” she said clearer, with an edge of defiance. “I’ve seen hundreds of Nephilim over the ages through the eyes of my charges, and none of them were a danger. None.”

“Same,” Evangelyn added. “I’ve ferried more than I can count to Heaven. Not one of them went to Hell. Which tells me they were all good, decent people.”

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