Page 46 of Claimed by the Fallen
My brain clicks, and I understand why they’re here. “I’m fine,” I reassure the angels, looking between each of them. “Whatever happened last night, I don’t feel the painanymore.”
Collectively, the angels sigh. Mr. Cohen and Gabe’s shoulders release their tension. The other two brothers nod their heads and share a loaded look before returning their attention tome.
I shift my feet, then move toward the fridge and pull out the filtered water pitcher. I take the pitcher with me as I move to the cabinet. A blur crosses my vision. Startled, I stumble back a step before I look up and see Gabe. He smiles sheepishly and holds out aglass.
“Thanks,” I mumble, taking the glass. I pour the water and turn to return the pitcher to the fridge. Adrian is there, holding the door open for me. He reaches out and takes the pitcher, placing it back in thefridge.
“We put on a pot of coffee.” I spin around and see Mr. Cohen standing near my father’s French press. He gestures to the warm, black liquid and continues, “In case you wantsome.”
I can only nod. I don’t know what to make of the angels’ attentiveness. They are treating me like a fragile, porcelain doll. It’s almost like they’re holding their breath, waiting for the moment Ibreak.
I sit at the kitchen table, sure to keep my chair from shifting any closer to Zeke as I do. He’s sitting in the corner of the small dining area, and he hasn’t spoken a word since I camedownstairs.
Taking a sip of water, I prepare myself for the inevitable. Lowering the glass, I ask, “What’s going on?” I don’t bother looking at Zeke; he is the king of hiding emotions. Instead, I focus on Gabe, then Mr. Cohen. Both have found the tile on the floorentertaining.
My gaze flickers towards Adrian. The platinum blond’s lips twitch, but his eyes are unreadable. He leans his shoulder against the fridge, shifting a magnet of the Golden Gate Bridge. “What do youmean?”
I wrap my hands around my water glass. “Why are you all being so nice tome?”
“You’ve been sick,” Mr. Cohen looks up from the ground. “We want to make sure you’rerecovered.”
“I’ve already said I’m fine.” I stare at him, looking for a hint as to why the angels are really looking at me like I might break into a million pieces. “What’s really going on? And don’t tell me nothing. I’m notstupid.”
I mean what I say. I’ve already decided to seek answers from the angels, but I can’t do that if they are tiptoeing around me. I want them to behonest.
No… Ineedthem to behonest.
I know I’ve done my best to avoid having conversations about my developing powers and my biological father’s past, but if talking about my abilities will help me know how to prevent the debilitating pain from last night, I’m willing to do it. I just need the angels to meet mehalfway.
Unfortunately, the light brothers are back to staring at the floor, and Adrian has become distracted with hisfingernails.
I’m about to call them out on their evasiveness when Zeke finally ends the silence. “I told you she wouldn’t befooled.”
My attention swings toward my ex-kickboxing instructor. His hazel eyes hold no amusement, and his tone islow.
“It seems you were right, Brother.” Adrian pushes off the fridge and returns to his seat at the table. Mr. Cohen and Gabe do thesame.
Now that all four angels are seated around me, they stare. I can tell they are waiting for some mysterious sign to say whatever they need tosay.
I take a steadying breath. “I thought my pain was normal for a Nephilim developing angelic powers.” I’m proud of how calm I sound. The subject is still weird to believe, much less say outloud.
“It is,” Mr. Cohenconfirms.
“Then why are you all acting so concerned? Is…” I pause as a horrible thought occurs to me, “is something wrong withme?”
“No,” all four of them reassure me with varying levels of intensity. Gabe and Adrian are the most enthusiastic, Mr. Cohen looks pained, and Zeke maintains his distantexpression.
I sigh. “Then what is it? Why are you treating me like aninvalid?”
This time, no one is quick to respond. Their silence only serves to heighten my anxiety. What could be so bad that the angels can’t just tell me? They’ve already turned my world upside down by revealing I’m half-angel. Not to mention, I’ve been attacked by demons and am currently being hunted. How much worse can my lifeget?
Ten seconds pass before Zeke, again, ends the silence, “We do not know how you will react to ournews.”
I straighten, and my stare lands on him. “Whatnews?”
Zeke’s empty eyes swing towards Mr. Cohen. I follow hisgaze.
My teacher dips his chin. “We’ve realized something, Messenger. The signs were there, but we didn’t realize the truth until lastnight.”
