Page 54 of Claimed by the Fallen
And, strangely enough, I’m not sure I’d want to go back even if Icould.
Nineteen
Iwork Friday afternoon. The Lees’restaurant is closed in between lunch and dinner, and I’m part of the early evening shift, prepping for our four o’clock open time. Unfortunately, Annie isn’t there. It’s just me, the cook, and one other waitress namedLaura.
Laura and I are responsible for the dining area. We sweep the room and wipe down the wooden furniture. Then, we lay purple and red table cloths over the tables, covering them with thick squares of glass. Laura asks me to retrieve the cloth napkins and silverware basket as she polishes the clear surface. I follow as she moves from table to table, folding the napkins into neat rectangles, and placing one spoon, one fork and a set of chopsticks onthem.
As I work, I reminisce about my morning with Gabe and Mr. Cohen... I mean,Joseph.
Our time together had been easy. Dare I say it, I almost hadfun.
My ex-teacher has a playful side, and I’m beginning to see glimpses of his true personality. And Gabe, he was as personable as ever. The only time I ever saw him act anything less than pleasant was when Adrian or Zeke were involved. Otherwise, he was as carefree and easygoing as any person I’d evermet.
While the angels and I had unloaded groceries in my kitchen, I ventured to ask, “What’s the deal with you guys and Adrian and Zeke? Other than the fact they’re DarkFallen?”
The brothers share a look. Then, Mr. Cohen said, “That’s pretty muchit.”
“Really?” I placed my hands on my hips, not believing that was the extent of the angels’ dislike of oneanother.
“Really.” Mr. Cohen didn’t change his answer, but I noticed he didn’t meet my eye as hespoke.
I move the silverware basket to a new table, absentmindedly preparing the place settings. After learning about the two types of Fallen, I understand there is natural-born animosity between the angels. But when I think of the snide comments and meaningful glares exchanged between them—usually when one of them makes a reference to me, or touches me, or something—I know there is something else going on. I figured my best bet of learning the truth would be the Light Fallen. After all, they were the angels devoted to regaining God’s grace. I thought they wouldn’t lie to me. Clearly, I waswrong.
I’m pondering how I will broach the conversation with the Dark Fallen when the bell above the door chimes. I look up from my work and my eyeswiden.
As if I conjured them using only my mind, Zeke and Adrian walk into the restaurant. Immediately, their eyes meet mine. Both of their lips lift into matching smiles. I’m momentarily speechless. They look so… happy. Is it just to seeme?
“Sorry,” Laura calls out, her back is to the door, “We don’t open untilfour.”
“We don’t mind waiting,” Adrian drawls. His stare hasn’t shifted from me, and I’m totally ensnared by it. A pleasant squeeze wraps around my chest; it’s both comfortable and teasinglytaunting.
Caught off guard by the feeling, I manage to break the connection. My hand rises and rests over my heart as I look at mycoworker.
Laura leans away from the table she is cleaning, preparing to ask the angels to leave, when she finally catches sight of them. I see her mouth pop open into an O shape. The dismissal dies on herlips.
“We’ll just wait over there,” Zeke points to the four chairs lined against the wall. “Until you officiallyopen.”
“No, I mean… don’t worry. Go ahead and sit anywhere. We’ll be right with you,” Laura rambles. She runs her hands over her head, trying to smooth any straystrands.
I lower my chin and resume my work, trying to ignore the pleasant sensation continuing to linger around my heart. I hear Zeke say, “Thankyou.”
The silverware nearly slips through my nervous fingers, but I manage to set the table successfully. I move to the nextone.
The angels’ footsteps draw near, and I see them pull back the chairs at the table to my left. I avoid looking at them, folding and arranging the napkin while I breathe through my nose. My lips are pressed together inconcentration.
Laura disappears into the kitchen. No doubt, she’s telling the cook we have early customers. I can hear the man’s grumble of disapproval all the way from outhere.
“Not going to speak with us,Angel?”
I peer over my shoulders and meet Adrian’s teasing grin. “Don’t call methat.”
“What? Angel? It’s just a term of endearment. No one will think I mean itliterally.”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean… I just don’t want anyone to get anyideas.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing tosay.
My words ignite an excited spark behind Adrian’s gaze, and I see Zekestiffen.
