Page 49 of Trust the Fall

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Page 49 of Trust the Fall

“I... this can’t be true,” I say, mostly to myself. “I’m an angel.”

“It’s true,” Michael says, resolute. “You were born of two archangels.”

I look to Michael, then to Leeanna, and finally to Zeke. They’re all drinking Michael’s Kool-Aid. They believe it.

I’m two seconds away from a panic attack, for several reasons. I won’t allow it, though. Not in front of this crew of Judases. I shove it down, straighten my back, and try to process what this means. No, I can’t. This is too much.

“But... how? Angels can’t bear children.” Luke continues to ask the questions that I can’t even think up.

“Camille is Nephilim. Her father is a fallen archangel and her mother, human.”

“How did she end up in Heaven then? Nephilim aren’t allowed in Heaven,” Leeanna butts in, seemingly as perplexed by all of this as I am.

“She was the first of her kind. God wanted to keep it quiet. The last thing he needed was angels running around Earth, impregnating humans.”

“Maybe he should’ve had you all on shorter leashes,” Luke bites out.

“Or threatened a rotation as Hell’s keeper,” I offer as another means of punishment.

Luke nods. “Seems a bit extreme that my curiosity led to a lifetime of herding demons and torturing souls, while the lot of you get to run around fornicating with no damn consequences.”

“Now isn’t the time, Lucifer. She got her punishment and I got mine. After our affair, he cast her out of Heaven.” Michael continues to answer the questions, sounding detached and clinical.

“And your punishment?” I press, wanting to know why he’s still sitting pretty in Heaven while my supposed mom is stuck reaping souls.

“I was never told of your existence—until now—and I haven’t seen Camille since.”

I bark out a pissed-off laugh. “Like you give a damn! You lied to me,” I yell, finally finding my voice. “You treated me like shit!” I bellow, the words bouncing off the steel walls, causing a sound like thunder.

“I didn’t know, Victoria. God told me only when you were taken to Hell.”

“Too damn bad. I’ll never excuse the way you treated me. Whether you knew who I was or not. You turned your back on me.” I thrust my finger into Michael’s chest, not even close to being done with my long overdue outburst.

“What about you?” I round on Zeke. “How long have you known?”

He shakes his head. “I had no idea you were a reaper or Michael’s daughter. I was on assignment here to train the Nephilim, and all I was told was that you were special and I needed to guard you.”

I throw my hands up. “Just stop. I don’t believe any of you. You’re all lying.”

I’m marching toward the door to leave when Luke grabs my elbow. “No, Luke. Not now. I... I need some time.” I blink my eyes, trying to stave off the tears threatening to fall. “I need some time,” I repeat, and his face hardens, but he nods.

Without waiting around to hear more of their excuses, I rush through the barn door, out into the cloud-covered yard. I fall to my knees, banging my fist into the ground.

Thunder rumbles overhead, answering my erratic mood. Good. A storm is just what I need. It’s been too long since I’ve powered up.

Throwing my hands into the air, I call upon the wind to bend to my will. It circles above me, forming a cyclone of energy. Lightning streaks across the sky as rain pelts down in heavy droplets onto my head. I raise my chin to feel the cool liquid hit my skin and fall in a torrent over my cheeks. The energy shoots toward the earth, entering my outstretched hands and racing through my veins in a thorough caress. The warming sensation starts at the tips of my fingers and runs down my arms, over my shoulders and straight to my core. I’m burning from within, and I can hardly take the heat.

Toppling forward, I’m caught from behind and pulled into a firm chest as the spasms continue to work over me. It can only be Luke embracing me. No other being could withstand such powerful electrical currents.

“It’s all right. I’ve got you, love.”

My body tingles for what feels like hours as the spasms continue. I’m powered to the hilt and ready for whatever battle comes.

“There won’t be a need for that, Victoria. No fighting today.”

I want to argue. I want to push back and tell him I plan to take on every single one of the angels inside my barn, but the words don’t come. As my body relaxes and the power recedes, lying dormant under my skin, my rage settles and in its place is a deep sadness.

“Do you know what this means?” I let the words die on my tongue, unwilling to say them out loud.




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