The Fallen

Chapter 3

Everything was a chaotic blur. Samael gave me only a few minutes to change into something warm and grab a few essentials before he was rushing me out of the door. He shouldered my bag, holding my hand tightly as we barreled down the stairs to the main floor of the building. I kept thinking that I was forgetting something important, that I must have left so much behind in my hurry to leave with him, that I  didn't notice the front door until I almost collided with it. Samael pulled me back, eyes glowing in the soft light as he stared outside. The glass door reflected the light, so I couldn't see anything other than our reflection, and our state was alarming. The blood on Samael’s chest was drying, and his wounds almost all healed. His hair was just as messy as mine, strands sticking in every direction. His eyes were bright, focused on something I couldn't see while mine were frantic, wide, and apprehensive. The jacket and jeans I threw on were a mess, but it was better than his torn pants and nonexistent shirt. But even in that state, he looked divine. A few inches taller than me, he towered over me protectively, his hand snaked around my waist in a vice grip.

“It looks clear.” His voice was a whisper, the look in his eyes softening as he gazed down on me. “Don't be scared, I'll protect you.”

“From what, exactly?”

He didn't answer me. Instead, he grabbed the door handle, pulling it open silently. He walked outside first, his hand grabbing mine once again before he pulled me out.

We hadn't taken a few steps forward before something dove down from the sky, its shadow masking the streetlights. The figure got so close that I felt the wind pick up violently around us with every beat of its wings. Samael cursed, dropping my bag before he ducked down. In one swift move, his wings erupted from his skin, the feathers tickling my face briefly before he took flight. He barreled towards the other winged figure, who grunted once Samael’s fist made his head snap back.

I grabbed my bag, ducking behind the first car I could find as I watched the struggle in the sky. My heart was beating so fast that it became painful. Sweat coated my palms, my throat dry as a scream fought to escape its confines . Above me, two more figures joined the fight, and I whimpered as one of them grabbed Samael’s right wing so hard she almost tore it out of his skin. He kicked her stomach, pulling his wings away from her before turning swiftly and clocking her in the jaw. She reeled back, bumping into another flying man and colliding with a light pole.

“You're never going to get away with this,” the first man said, anger coating his words. He aimed another punch at Samael’s face, who ducked swiftly before grabbing the man’s wrist and bending it backwards. The crack echoed around us, the man hollering in pain before pulling away from a seething Samael.

“You should have stayed away,” Samael said, his voice deep with loathing.

“You know we can't do that.” The woman flew closer to him, stopping only a few inches away from his face. “You know how this ends for her.”

“I will kill you!” Samael yelled, aiming another kick at the woman's stomach. “I will kill all of you if you even think of touching her.”

“She's already dead.” The third man glanced down at me, a mix of annoyance and contempt in his dark eyes. He eyed my position behind the car before scoffing. “She's not worth it.”

His sentence wasn't even finished before Samael was behind him, hands around his neck. He squeezed so hard I could see the man’s eyes bulging out of their sockets all the way from the ground. He started coughing violently, kicking his legs around and scratching at Samael’s hands, but nothing worked. In a matter of seconds, he had passed out, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

“She's worth it to me,” Samael seethed, his golden eyes gleaming in the dark.

The other two backed away, sparing a worried glance at their companion on the ground before looking at each other. Nodding, they seemed to have made a decision, backing off even further from the agitated, golden-winged man.

“This isn't over,” the woman said before she and her companion flew off into the night.

Samael descended from the sky like an avenging angel, landing directly in front of me. He pulled me into his arms, stroking my hair with one hand as the other held me tightly. I rested my head under his chin, the sound of his beating heart calming my frantic one.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, are you?”

“Nothing I can't handle.”

I pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. He seemed calmer now, his gaze soft, unlike the angry man in the sky from a few minutes ago. He continued to play with my hair, and I would have blushed at the intensity of his gaze if I weren't so preoccupied with what happened.

“Who were they?” I asked, unable to hide the fear from my voice. “What do they want from me?”

Samael sighed, his hand leaving my hair to caress my face for a heartbeat. He pulled me up to my feet, grabbed my bag off the ground and threw it over his shoulder again. He started walking, pulling me alongside him, and I thought he wasn't going to answer me again.

“They are angels.”

I blinked, waiting for his words to register in my frayed brain. Angels. It made sense, massive wings, flying battles in the sky, healing abilities no mortal can possess. So why did the word feel so foreign? So fantastical?

“Aren't angels supposed to be good?” I asked, the banality of my question ringing in my ears. Samael glanced at me before he went back to surveying the area. I had no idea where he was taking me, but I was worried about other, more pressing matters. “Why are they trying to kill me?”

Another sigh before he turned to me, the soft look in his eyes replaced by a tormented gaze. He clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around mine. “Because I want you, and they won't let me have you.”

“You want me?”

The words sent a delicious shiver down my spine that seemed so out of place in this dangerous atmosphere, butterflies dancing in my stomach at his words. I didn't know why it mattered so much, what this man wanted, but I couldn't deny the feelings I had for him. I was drawn to him, his touch, his eyes, his wings. Everything about him drew me in, calling to a part of my soul I didn't know existed.

Samael nodded, the pain in his eyes threatened to pull me under.

“Why won't they let you have me?” My voice was small, the question making heat rise up my neck. Why did I care? Why did I want to know? Why did it matter what these angels who were hellbent on killing me want?

“Because,” Samael said, stopping in his tracks. He turned to me, his face stricken with grief as he stared at me. He held my face in his palms, as if he was afraid whatever he was about to say would send me running, or worse, break me to pieces.

“I am one of the fallen.”