Page 13 of Fallen Angel

He pried the book from her hands and flung it across the cave. It hit the stone wall and thudded against the damp ground.

“What are you doing?” Hannah yelled. She lunged for the book, but he held his arm out to stop her.

Though his touch electrified her in a way she couldn’t understand, that book harnessed the uncontrollable anxiety within her more than she ever thought possible. It was as if she had been thirsty for the past two years, and the spell book was her first sip of cool water. She was not willing to give it up so quickly.

Hannah pushed past the strange young man. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her back, and wrapped both his arms around her waist. She struggled against him, slapping her arms against his back, but he didn’t relent.

“Prithee!” He gritted his teeth and held her tighter as she fought against his hold. “Be still despite your fight.” He spoke so rapidly that his words ran into each other. “Be calm and hold your flight.”

His words crawled over Hannah, rendering her immobile in his arms. He released her, and she froze in place.

“What’s happening?” she asked through quivering lips.

The young man stood in front of her and closed his eyes. He wavered in place as he observed his surroundings. He hovered his palms away from his hips, either overwhelmed or trying to keep his balance. He paced back and forth, each step looking like it took enormous effort.

“You know that grimoire is pure darkness.” Both his voice and eyes exuded desperation. “You read from it?

“I don’t know,” Hannah said. Static roared in her blood as if maddened by its paralysis. She instinctively tried to touch her thumbs to her fingertips, but they were frozen in place.

A dark thought sparked in Hannah’s mind. If the book consisted only of darkness, then why did its touch feel so good? Was she evil?

“I believed you to have perished,” he said, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “How is this possible?”

He clearly knew who Hannah was, and though he seemed familiar, she had no recollection of ever meeting him. All she knew was that she had to get out of here—undo whatever it was he did to her. Perhaps if she talked to him, calmed him down, he would free her.

“What is your name?” Hannah asked, thinking it was a safe place to start.

“What?” His gaze was intense and confused. “It is I. Callan.”

Fire blazed across Hannah’s mind. Over the flames, she heard a woman’s voice scream his name.Callan!When the image dissipated, she stared at him.

He took a step back. “What manner of dress is this?”

Hannah had somehow broken into a secret cave and released a man from stone…and he was asking about her clothes? She wanted to crawl out of whatever enchantment she was in. Panic bubbled from her gut and into her throat, but she couldn’t run, couldn’t move. She was trapped.

“Why were you buried in a cave? Why can’t I move?”

“Prithee, Raven. You are acting strange.” He waved his hand at her as if to dismiss her questions.

“Who is Raven?” Callan’s eyes grew heavy, and he stumbled. Blood drained from his face, and gravity pulled him to the cave’s hard floor. Hannah feared that he might pass out, leaving her frozen like this for God-knows-how-long.

“Callan, let me go. Undo whatever you’ve done. I need to help you.”

While fighting to keep his eyes open, he whispered, “Move as thee will, no longer still.”

Suddenly, Hannah’s limbs were released. The spell book tugged at her attention. It lay beside the rubble, only a few feet behind Callan. Its lure was too strong to ignore, but she needed to help Callan first.

“Stay awake,” Hannah said. She arrived at his side and supported his head. She had no idea what was going on, but she couldn’t leave him helpless in this cave.

“I feel so weak,” he said. His dry lips stuck together. “Who—” he cleared his throat. “Who are you, if not Raven?” His voice was haggard.

“My name is Hannah.”

His eyes fluttered shut. She gripped his hand and nudged his shoulder.

“Where am I?” he rasped, eyes mere slits.

“Bellcliff University? Cape Cove?” Hannah said.

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