Page 29 of Claimed by the Fallen
The creature continues to wail. Now, I’ve succeeded in drawing the attention of the rest of the individuals around me. The men and creatures both watch the burning monster with a variation of smugness andfear.
Then, like it never existed at all, the monster crumbles to the ground and disintegrates into thinair.
Twelve
The momenttheir companion disappears from sight, the creatures try to make a run for itagain.
They don’t make itfar.
It’s like each of the men had been taunting the monsters when they were fighting. Now, the winged fighters are done playing games. They each stab their combatant without hesitation or even a hint of remorse. Once the creatures stop squirming and their black blood stains the grass, Mr. Cohen, Gabe and Adrian walk over tome.
I’m on my knees, alternating between staring at my hands and the empty spot where the burning monster had been. I try to tell myself I imagined the whole thing. There is no way I actually shot golden fire from my hands. Though, try as I might, I cannot erase the image of the creature’s bubbling skin as itburned.
I swallow backbile.
“Veronica?”
I look up. Kind, familiar blue eyes are gazing down at me. It takes me a moment to realize Mr. Cohen is the one who said my name. He rarely, if ever, uses my firstname.
My ex-physics teacher lifts a hand toward me. I cringe reflexively. His hand quickly falls back to his side. He moves away fromme.
“Sorry.” I feel guilty for my reaction. I know he’s not the one who tried to attackme.
But he is the guy who broke into myhouse…
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Mr. Cohen replies. “Your reaction isunderstandable.”
I drop my eyes and nod, unable tospeak.
Again, I look at my hands, remembering the seconds the light had shot through my skin. They feel and look normal. There isn’t any indication anything out of the ordinary hashappened.
“It seems like your Angel Fire hasdeveloped.”
I look at Adrian. His arms are crossed, and his lips are lifted. Am I imagining it, or does he lookproud?
“Mywhat?”
“Your Angel Fire,” he repeats. Then, he extends a hand to help meup.
I stare at the offer for a second before placing my shaking hand in his. His palm is warm as his fingers tighten around mine. He pulls meup.
I balance on the balls of my feet, and I realize I’m standing less than one foot from Adrian’s chest. The proximity does funny things to my stomach, and his touch makes my palm tingle. I take a large step back, forcing him to drop myhand.
“What’s AngelFire?”
“One of many angelic powers you are in the middle of developing,” Adrian continues his role as the giver of information. “Though, I am surprised to see it revealed so soon after yourmaturation.”
My forehead creases. “Maturation?”
“Your eighteenth birthday,” Mr. Cohenexplains.
“Oh...” I bite my lip and stare at the ground, trying to wrap my head around everything that has happened and the information the men expect me tobelieve.
A different thought comes to mind, doing me the favor of distracting me from the unusual light shooting out of myhands.
“Are those wings real?” I gesture to the men and the three sets of wings protruding from their backs. Now that they are closer, I can see Adrian’s black wings do, indeed, have streaks of blue in the feathers. Also, Mr. Cohen’s and Gabe’s aren’t solid white. I see hints of orange and yellow among the strands. The hues aremesmerizing.
“Yes,” Mr. Cohen steps forward, ending my admiration of the men’s wings. Again, it looks like he wants to reach out and touch me, but he thinks better of it. “Like I said, Messenger, we areangels.”
