Page 8 of Semi-Fallen

Lucien imagined he was no closer to getting an answer to that question than he was to figuring out why his own brethren left him to rot in a hell dimension prison without even attempting a rescue.

Still…was this Nephilim special somehow? Different than the others? Was she an anomaly, or had he been lied to?

He needed to talk to her. It was the only way. He needed to hear her words and look into her soul. There was no way he could proceed with his mission without being sure she was what Heaven said she was.

Not wanting to waste another moment, he dropped the veil around him.

“Now!”

The shout came from the girl’s closet and ushered in noise, chaos, and confusion.

Before Lucien could raise a hand to defend himself, he was knocked to the ground, where three dhampyres and a demon wrenched his arms behind his back and slapped a set of metal cuffs around his wrists. A fourth human locked a metal collar around his neck.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, his cheek pressed firmly to the floor.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, sparky,” a voice he recognized only too well said from the corner of the room.

Harper Hall.

He’d met this woman years ago when he’d helped bring her stepdaughter and Gabriel back from the hell dimension.

“Son of a bitch,” another familiar voice grumbled. “It’s the fucking angel.”

Gabriel Malek. The demon in question. The demon who now had his knee in Lucien’s back.

Lucien was immediately wrenched to his feet. His gaze shot to the Nephilim, who was sitting up in her bed, staring back at him with eyes so wide she looked like a cartoon character.

She’d set him up. Not only had she known he was watching, but she also executed a plan to trap him. And he’d been none-the-wiser all day.

Clever, wicked girl.

He’d admire her resourcefulness if he wasn’t being manhandled. But, given the circumstances, he wasn’t feeling that generous.

Lucien cut his eyes to Harper, who had a crossbow pointed at his heart. Again, he would’ve found that hilarious if they hadn’t knocked him to the ground, cuffed him, and collared him like a mongrel. “You have to know that won’t kill me.”

She grinned at him, seemingly unconcerned that she was wielding a useless human weapon against an angel—one who could smite everyone in this building if he so desired. “Yeah, but it’d probably hurt.” She shrugged. “That’s all I’m really going for at this point.”

Next to her, her husband, Noah Riddick, crossed his arms over his chest and practically snarled at him like a rabid wolf. “We don’t appreciate anyone stalking one of our own,” he said, menace dripping from his hard, rumbling voice. “Consider yourself lucky we stopped to ask questions before getting sword happy.”

The other person who’d helped knock him to the floor, Riddick’s sister, Seven, held up a short sword that had obviously been sharpened and polished with great care. Lucien had no doubt she could’ve beheaded him with that weapon.

She frowned at her brother. “There’s nothing happy about my sword. I take it very seriously. You know that.”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s just a figure of speech.”

Her frown deepened. “I still don’t like those. I’ve never liked them. Why can’t everyone just say what they mean?”

“Hear, hear,” Gabriel muttered.

Harper blew a wayward curl out of her eyes. “Because that’s boring. Figures of speech spice things up—make everything more interesting. Like cuss words and weird pop culture references.”

Lucien remembered this kind of familial banter from the last time he’d been here. He hadn’t enjoyed it then, and he certainly didn’t enjoy it now. “Allow me to say exactly what I mean,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your silver cuffs might incapacitate a demon or a shifter, but not me. They might weaken me, but trust me when I say that even weakened, you will not survive a fight with me.”

There was that annoying, Harper Hall grin again. “Wow, you’re just a font of info I already know. See, the cuffs are only Plan A, since we weren’t sure what kind of paranormal stalker we were dealing with. Plan B is way better...and scarier.”

That’s when the vampires stepped into the room.

Wolf Hunter was the oldest vampire in existence. Lucien imagined even the vampire himself didn’t know that fact. But his age made him a formidable opponent, even for an angel.

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