Page 37 of Protected by the Fallen
“And Adrian and Zeke wouldn’t touch her with a thirty-foot pole,” George provides.
I want to be reassured, but doubt lingers in the back of my mind. I look to Zeke for confirmation. “Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“There’s been no one but you, Angel,” Adrian seconds.
From the corner of my eye, I see Vera give me an “I told you so” smile.
Shaking my head, I clear away all thoughts of Roxy. I have way bigger problems in my life than a jealous angel. “You’ve told me about your friendship with George,” I change the subject and look at the affectionate couple. “But how do you two know Zeke and Adrian?”
For a second, I’m afraid I’ve asked a stupid question. Adrian and Zeke are celebrities among Dark Fallen. Everyone would know them. As would I if I were really the Nephilim I’m pretending to be.
“In the best way,” Cecilia answers, giving no indication she’s found my question strange.
At my curious look, Cecilia explains, “Adrian and Zeke are responsible for introducing me to Oren.”
Oh!
“Really?”
Adrian shrugs. “I’m not sure we can claim credit for something Fate would’ve facilitated in time.”
“Who is to say Fate isn’t the force that caused you to invite me to Rome in the first place?” Cecilia asks.
She turns to me. “I met Adrian and Zeke four hundred years ago. Their mother threw them a lavish birthday party, and all Dark Fallen and Nephilim were invited.”
“We found Cecilia hiding near the bar,” Zeke tells me. He grins at the redhead. “She’d taken over my and Adrian’s normal hiding spot.”
I can sense the comradery Zeke feels with Cecilia. Adrian’s emotions are the same.
“They invited me to travel with them to Rome,” Cecilia continues. “They wanted me to meet their friends who shared our desire to remain out of the spot light. Needless to say, the moment I laid eyes on Oren, I knew I was meant to meet the sullen Dark princes at that party.”
Princes?
“I know you didn’t just use that title,” Adrian growls, but there is no aggression in it.
Cecilia holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out.”
“Do people really call you that?” I ask.
“Only the delusional ones,” Zeke says.
Again, the group laughs. This is surreal. Adrian and Zeke have friends—genuine friends. Friends who’ve been with them over the centuries. Friends who don’t begrudge them for not taking up the proverbial mantel and leading the Dark Fallen. Standing here, witnessing them laugh and joke, watching them smile easily, I want to know more. I want to hear all about their lives before me. I want to be a part of it.
Out of the blue, George groans loudly. “Alas, the time has come for the royals to leave the lowly peasants.”
I don’t understand George’s comment. He’s looking behind me. I turn and see the crowd part to make way for Sarah. A slinky black gown cascades over her flawless figure. Her makeup is perfect, and her ebony hair is piled high on the crown of her head. If I saw her on the street, there is no way I would’ve pegged her as a mother, much less thousands of years old. She radiates authority, and it’s easy to see why Dark Fallen made her their leader when her sons declined the position.
“Adrian. Zeke.” Sarah arrives. She reaches out and grasps onto my shoulders, kissing my cheeks. “And Veronica. Here you all are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Mother,” Zeke greets. “You remember our friends?”
“Ah yes,” Sarah glances briefly at the trio around her sons. “How nice. I’m glad you’ve been able to reconnect with your companions. Like I said, you should’ve returned to the embassy sooner. I’m sure your friends are glad you have returned.” She gives them a pointed look.
“Indeed.” George bows.
“Yes, ma’am,” Oren and Cecelia murmur at the same time. The former bows like George, while Celia bobs into an elegant curtsy.
