Page 49 of Claimed by the Fallen
I must have read the message five times before my brain restarted and come up with aresponse.
Hi, Preston. Thanks, feeling a little better. Dinner sounds great.Saturday?
I chew on my bottom lip as I hit send. Part of me is excited, but I’m mostlynervous.
My phone dings. I hold my breath as I open themessage.
Saturday is perfect. Pick you up at your house at7?
My lips stretch into a widegrin.
See you at7.
I add an upside-down smiley face before I send thetext.
Excitement begins to overshadow my nervousness. How long have I daydreamed of Preston noticing me? To have it actually happen is surreal, yet I can’t deny its true. This is really happening. Preston McKenna and I are going on a date. Not even the world-altering truths the Fallen have recently imposed on me could ruin my happymood.
At least, notentirely.
Still not willing to face the supposed truth of my birth parents, I spend the rest of my day in my room. I only venture out when I need to get something to eat or use the restroom. And each time I do, the angels are careful to not impose themselves on me. The Fallen simply watch me, waiting for me to extend the first olivebranch.
But I have no plans on making that offertoday.
By the time my parents get home from work, the angels are gone, but I know they’re somewhere nearby, monitoring my safety from adistance.
My parents and I have dinner, and I think about telling them about my date with Preston. But I can’t seem to get the wordsout.
It might seem strange, but I want to keep the happy news to myself for a little longer. I haven’t even told Annie about my date with my childhood crush. She’ll probably be mad when she learns I didn’t confide in her immediately, but she’ll get over it. This is something I want to keep private—to cherish before I have to hear all of her overeager advice about how to handle my very first date. I decide to tell hertomorrow.
I lie down in bed that night, and my thoughts are tainted with images of fiery wings and stark bolts of Angel Fire as I try to rationalize the news of my mixed heritage. I have visions of a world covered in equal parts dark and light, but I’m the only one who can cross the borders between the realms. My skill angers dozens upon dozens of red-winged Fallen angels, and each of them watches me with murder in theireyes.
I wake up gasping for breath. I hadn’t even realized I’d fallenasleep.
It’s Friday morning, and sunlight peeks through the blinds I’d forgotten to close the nightbefore.
I turn to the side and wait for my bleary eyes to read the time on my alarmclock.
8:45a.m.
Crap!
I kick off my covers and race to the bathroom. I’m late for my morning kickboxing class. I brush my teeth and hair like a mad woman. Then, I rush to my closet and change into the first pair of athletic shorts and razorback top I canfind.
I’m hopping down the stairs, tying my hair back, when the silence of the home hits me. I stop halfway down the stairs. I’d thought my parents were staying home today. Last night at dinner, I remember them saying something about Uncle Jasper coming tovisit.
“Mom?”
Noresponse.
I grip the railing as foreboding fills me. “Dad?”
The house remains silent. I don’t even hearPeriwinkle.
Oh, God.Did a demon get tothem?
I’m about to call my parents when a figure steps into thefoyer.
“Jesus!” I cry out, clutching mychest.
