Page 25 of Claimed by the Fallen
“This is crazy.” The words slip past my lips. I press them together to keep any further outbursts atbay.
Fortunately, neither of the men are alarmed, or deterred, by mystatement.
“We know this is a lot to take in.” Mr. Cohen laces his fingers together and continues to watch me like I’m a wounded animal ready to strike. If I thought such a move would be effective, I might tryit.
Instead, I exhale and look at the ceiling. I rub my stinging chest without thought as I contemplate my next words. “So… one of my parents was anangel?”
“Or a Nephilim, likeyou.”
I frown and lower my gaze to my teacher’s brother. “Wouldn’t that make me a quarter-angel?”
His lips part in a wide smile, and I have to force myself to ignore how good-looking he is. In fact, he and my attractive teacher could pass as twins. Maybe theyare.
“Nephilim is a term used to describe someone who is a descendant of a human woman and someone with Fallen blood in their veins. Percentages don’t reallymatter.”
My eyes widen. “Fallen? As in… the biblical fallenangels?”
Both men nod, but it is Mr. Cohen who says, “One and thesame.”
Okay. That settles it. They arenuts.
There is absolutely no way I believe I’m the offspring of a freaking fallen angel from the bible. The only one I really know about is Lucifer, and he sure as heck isn’t a father figure I’m interested inadopting.
I sit in silence, staring at the brothers with a mix of fear anddisbelief.
Mr. Cohen breaks the quiet. “I’m aware you are adopted, Messenger. But have you ever had contact with your birthmother?”
It takes all of my restraint to not jump up and make a run for it. “No,” I croak. I clear my throat and continue, “My mom and dad are the only parents I’ve everknown.”
“Have they told you anything about your birth mother?” his brother asks. “Where she might live, or if she’sdead?”
I flinch. It’s been a long time since I’ve wondered about the woman who gave birth to me. Part of me didn’t want to face the potential heartache of learning the truth behind her decision to give me up, but I never considered the woman who brought me into this world might no longer be alive. Sadness presses on my shoulders, and I close my eyes, confused as to why the idea affects me so much. It’s not like my life would change with the knowledge of herdeath.
“Gabe,” I hear Mr. Cohen hiss, disapproval drips from histone.
“What? I simply want to know if we can contact her so we might discover the identity of her Fallenfather.”
I open my eyes, careful to hide emotion from my face. “I don’t know anything. Not even hername.”
Mr. Cohen watches me with concern, but I focus my attention on his brother,Gabe.
His blue eyes flicker between mine. Then, Gabe says, “She has two eye colors. Her father could beanyone.”
Again, I flinch. Gabe seems to lack any sort of filter. I hate when people discuss my eyes. “What do my eyes have to do withanything?”
“Nephilim tend to have their father’s eye color,” Mr. Cohen explains. “It’s either blue or hazel. Your two eye colors mean your father could be any Fallenangel.”
“Oh.” I pretend like his explanation makes sense. When, really, it just makes me more confused. I lower my attention to Periwinkle. She’s still snuggled between the men, but she watches me with round eyes. She can sense I’mupset.
Suddenly, Peri stands up. Her body stiffens. She growls, staring through the living room’s entryway. Both men jump to their feet. They, too, stare at something through the entrance, glaring withmenace.
Before I can stand up to see what they are staring at, a tall, muscular figure walks into the room. I recognize the platinum hair before the newcomer turns towardme.
“Adrian?”
Eleven
Adrian,the blunt, gorgeous man from the concert, turns towards me slowly. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he says, “Veronica. Long time, nosee.”
