Page 3 of Fallen
The anomaly, like a tiny, buzzing insect, drew my attention to the background static in my head, the prayers spoken in my name. Most I ignored.
Did the stupid humans really expect I—Lucifer the Fallen—would want anything to do with their sorry lots? They were the entire reason for my misery. I hated them.
Well, all except one.
Cain Dameron was the exception. Hewasmy son. And truly, he was only half human. One day I’d reveal his Nephilim status and gift him with the wings he’d been lusting after for millennia.If he can ever prove he’s truly one of us.
He held himself back. Terrible sins required terrible punishments. He’d learn. Some day.
I called on the ether and formed my uniform—a black shirt with a ruby insignia fastened to the collar showing my commander status, soft leather boots, and midnight-colored pants.
“Something taints the prayers.” I cocked my head, listening to the internal voices, sifting through them until one called out, its sound sweet and pure, unlike the dark prayers usually muttered with sadistic fervency.
I smoothed my hair, giving myself a quick glance in the floor-length mirror against the wall.
My reflection stared back. From my straight locks to my eyes, everything deepest black except my bronzed skin and the lower feathers of my wings, which were a deep scarlet.
That incessant prayer called once more, and I honed my attention inward.
'And dear God, please protect Lucifer. I know you don’t hate him because the Bible says to love everyone, and that hate is a sin.'
I stumbled forward, grabbing one of the wooden bedposts.
Someoneprayedfor my me?
Rage built in my blood, turning it into a roiling river of fire.
How dare they ask God to protect me.
I locked onto the idiot’s location and opened a portal to Earth.
I will kill them slowly, starting with burning their flesh from their bones in the Lake of Fire, then I’ll show them just how muchprotectionI need from—
I appeared in a small room without windows.
A tiny girl, eight or nine, knelt in front of a small bed, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. Mahogany-colored curls cascaded down her back.
“And if it’s not too much to ask, God, maybe you can help Sister Carrie find a new book for me to read. Amen.”
I immediately cloaked myself in shadows to hide my presence.
The anger, still funneling through my body, receded to a dull throb.
When the child stood, she held her hands downward, feeling for the edges of her covers.
A nightlight shone next to the bed, but even with the light, she stumbled as if it was completely dark.
I strolled to the end of the bed, my curiosity getting the better of me.
She gingerly lowered herself to the mattress, then pulled the covers over her legs. Glancing in my direction for a moment, she blinked, and I was certain she could see me.
I shifted my feet.Why in the world is this tiny human child praying for me?Disgust welled in my stomach.
God would be laughing her ass off right now.
“Who’s there?” the girl asked, still staring at me.
I frowned. How in damnation could she see—
