Page 25 of Fallen Angel

Bryce nodded.

“Go for the girl,” he said. “You don’t want pesky Callan here laying a finger on you.”

Without further instruction, Bryce scampered for Hannah. Her blood surged through her veins so quickly that it felt as if her skin was moving. Static tickled at her palms and her fingers shook uncontrollably.

Callan guarded Hannah, but Bryce was too quick, like an agile dog on the hunt. He dodged Callan and leaped at her. Though she could hear Callan shout for her to run, there was no time.

His eyes were wild, and his mouth was agape. Drool slipped off his new fangs. She put her hands in front of her face to brace for impact.

Bryce collided with her, and a bright white shock blasted him off the cliff. The force of the spark even knocked Hannah to the ground. She gasped at her burning hands.

“And you wish me to believe that she is not Raven,” Nathaniel said to Callan, not even blinking an eye that Bryce, his new creation, was just thrown off a cliff. He flung his chin upward and released a blustering cackle. The wind roared along the cliffs.

Callan ran to Hannah’s side. “Are you hurt?”

Hannah stared at her hands, eyes wide and mouth agape. They were foreign to her, acting upon their own volition, separate from the rest of her body and mind. She continued to stare at her trembling hands, while trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

Bryce fell off the cliff. Hannah sent him off the cliff. She killed him. Her hands killed him. Whatever inside her killed him.

Hannah’s eyes watered.

Callan brushed her shoulder. She gasped. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped breathing.

“I’m fine,” she said. She wasn’t fine, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart. Not now. She tilted her head up and blinked a few times to keep her swell of tears from spilling over.

Callan couldn’t even help Hannah to her feet before Bryce propelled himself back over the cliff, posed on all fours, his fingers clawed into the dirt.

Hannah’s heart dropped back into her stomach. She couldn’t manage to scream or even move at Bryce’s resilience.

Nathaniel clapped his hands, thoroughly entertained. “Takes more than a little shock n’ fall to kill a Vampire.” His stringy hair danced upon his shoulders.

Vampire.Though it was obvious, hearing the word out loud was a different story entirely. Bryce licked his lips and leaned forward, his gaze set on Hannah. She backpedaled against the weeded path, too flustered to lift herself to her feet. Bryce pounced off his back feet and outstretched his dirt-covered hands, already in formation to strangle her.

Callan charged in front of Hannah and shoved a hand against Bryce’s chest. He gripped his other hand around Bryce’s arm. His heels thrust against the gravel as he halted Bryce’s momentum. “Stop,” he commanded.

Bryce obeyed. His flailing limbs quelled. He still looked rabid and thirsty, focusing his eyes solely on Hannah, but he was frozen beneath Callan’s spell. “You shall never drink from any human, animal, or blood source, ever again. You shall never reveal what you are or what happened here, today. Do you understand?”

Bryce looked to Callan and nodded. “Go. Now.”

Callan removed his hand and sighed. Bryce walked away.

Hannah was relieved at Callan’s intervention, yet horrified at Bryce’s fate. Despite the mayhem in front of her, she couldn’t help but think of his budding relationship with Amelia, his friendship with Landon, and the future he would now probably never have.

Callan offered Hannah his hand. She held on and let him effortlessly pull her to her feet.

Nathaniel released a theatrical sigh and cocked his head to one side. “Pity.” He licked the tips of his fangs. He hopped from foot to foot, then stormed toward them.

Callan pushed Hannah out of the way and collided with Nathaniel.

Hannah toppled to the ground, and the grimoire slid out beneath the flap of her bag. She army crawled toward it and wrapped her fingers around its binding. Before she could shove it back into her bag, goosebumps erupted up her spine.

H-a-n-n-a-h.The book called to her again.Give him the book. You don’t need me anymore.Hannah paused in a trance. Callan and Nathaniel’s struggle faded into the background. She picked herself off the ground and brushed dirt off the black leather. The soothing sensation slipped over her skin. It slowly relieved the staggering shock and disbelief that had overwhelmed her and gave her the hope that everything would be okay.

“Hannah, no,” Callan screamed, a tenuous grip around Nathaniel’s neck. “I know the temptation, but you must fight it. Resist her compulsion just like you resisted mine.” Nathaniel broke free of Callan’s hold and thrust his elbow into his chest. Callan stumbled back.

While the grimoire’s voice held a similar sensation to Callan’s Siren gift, its lure was much more powerful. Its soothing song calmed Hannah’s worries, yet an all-consuming sense of power washed over her—captivated her.

“She can’t resist, mate,” Nathaniel said, laboring for air. “That book misses its mother, and it wants to go home.”

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