Fallen Angels: Angels and Demons, Book one

Author

Acknowledgements

I need to thank my daughter for her patience, putting up with a mother staring into thin air while watching the newest scene of the book play itself out inside her head.

I also want to thank Aimee Easterling for her support, answering my questions when I started writing, believing in me, giving me the courage to create a universe of my own.

And I want to thank Norma Moore Sutton for beta-reading the first draft, doing a great job in finding and correcting my mistakes!

Last and most important, I want to thank the founders of WASSUP-authors (www.wassup-authors.com) for their never-ending support in making this second edition a better book. Without you, none of this would have been possible!

And of course, I want to thank all the readers taking the risk of buying a book from a new and unknown writer. I really hope you enjoy reading it!

If you did, please be so kind to leave a review on the platform you bought it, thanks a lot!

Prologue

Bela? Bela! Don’t fall asleep on me now! Azal’s voice slowly penetrated my sleepy mind. Getting old was still no fun, even with medicine much improved over the millennia I had walked the earth now.

Look at this, I think I found another one, Azal shouted, shoving the newspaper in my gnarled fingers. Squinting, I pushed my reading glasses in front of my failing eyes before slowly deciphering the words.

NY Daily News, August 18, 1960

Panic spreads among New York’s citizens after a giant viper of an unknown origin has been sighted in Central Park. Zookeepers have tried to find, and catch the animal, but it has vanished from sight. We implore all citizens to stay clear of Central Park, and its immediate vicinity, until the snake has been caught.

You might be right, I rasped, before a coughing fit kept me from finishing my sentence, making me wait patiently until my failing body had stopped shuddering, before I could draw another shallow breath at last.

You have to go without me. It won’t be long now. The next time, I’ll be able to come along again, or we can just speed up the process if you shoot me now.

Azal looked at me with hooded eyes.

I’m not a murderer, no matter what was said in the past. I didn’t kill anyone. I’m not starting now, even, if I know you won’t stay dead for long. I’ll manage. I promise to bring him home.

Take Dante with you. He’s felt a little cooped up lately, I advised, and be careful. I know you don’t age, but we still don’t know what happens when you die.

My eyes drifted close as Azal left the room. Soon, another Fallen One’s descendant would join our little community to live in peace. Maybe, I’d even be in a better state to greet him when they returned.

CHAPTER 1

Memories

Forty-five years later, our little community had grown from four to more than fifty. All descendants of Fallen Angels cast out of heaven. Like me, some of them had been accused, then condemned for all eternity, for crimes committed in their youth. The world had been different then. Violence had been commonplace, but with our tainted heritage, the Angels had sought out every opportunity to keep us out of heaven.

As descendants of Angels, even Fallen Ones, we technically had the right to get our wings when coming of age, but they had done everything possible to curse us for even minor offenses. Twisting our powers, or ripping them from us, condemning us to eternal life on earth with some punishment attached.

As times changed, the Angels had just stayed away. Bijou had been one of the last ever to be visited by one. Those born later never even got the chance to get their wings, making us call them, lovingly, the Forgotten Ones. Maybe, the Angels considered having to live as Half-Demons among humans curse enough. Most of us had been stoned, buried alive, drowned, killed by sword or spear, burned at the stake, shot, or otherwise killed by scared, superstitious humans several times. Azal was the only one who’d never died.

I could still clearly remember my first death. After being cursed, I had aimlessly wandered into the desert to die. I had taken no water, or food, with me. I had seated myself next to a solitary rock, waiting for two days for the sun to do the job, finally fainting from dehydration. The last thing I remembered was pain, excruciating pain, when some desert scavenger decided to turn my right leg into its next meal. When consciousness returned, I awakened to a tingling sensation, gulping in a breath. It was night, cool air caressing my skin. I felt my leg regrow within minutes. The new skin and bones itched for weeks afterward. Stumbling through the night, I had sought shelter in a cave that became my home for the next years.

One day, a group made camp near my cave. They were a ragged, sorry band of people. I was curious. What had brought them here, far away from any habitation? It turned out they were outcasts like me. I decided to join them when they moved on. It was a bad decision. Listening to their stories at the campfire in the evenings, I realized they had raided some villages, burned the houses, raped the daughters. Sick at heart, I tried to leave, but with everything I had heard, I was a threat to them. In the night, one of them dragged me away to cut my throat. When I came to my senses again, they were long gone. That day, I decided to leave the land of my birth behind in search for a better place.

Many would say my life has been an adventure of epic proportions. I, however, feel it would bore people to death listening to my excursion across time. So many of my lives were similar in so many ways. I left the place of my birth, certain that finding a new home would not be difficult at all. Never in my boldest dreams would I have imagined it would take me two millennia, and the crossing of an ocean, to find a place to call home again!

Home! Yes, this place was home. A safe haven for those like me. A shelter from the world outside. I hadn’t just found it. I had created it, with my hands, my sweat, and my love, backed by enough gold to never be at the mercy of others again!

CHAPTER 2

The Farm

Our home, or The Farm as we called it, was self-sufficient. All of us taking turns tending the crops and the animals, doing the cooking, washing and cleaning.

We were also still searching for others like us. I was sitting in front of the PC again, reading the latest US news on the NBC homepage, when my gaze fell on a new topic in one of the paranormal chatrooms I was watching.

MERMAID SIGHTING IN PADILLA BAY NORTH OF SEATTLE.

We have another one, I told Boris, who lounged on the couch, intent on the newspaper he was scanning for mysterious happenings.

Mermaid south of Bellingham? That’s almost in Canada, he rumbled, making me nod in confirmation.

A woman? That’s rare. So far, we only found two, Phoenicia and Bijou.

Care to come? I asked, seeing Boris flinch.

I don’t really care about water. I like it hot and dry. Why don’t you ask Kuno, and maybe, Bijou? Shouldn’t you take one of the ladies along for this?"

I had deserved the taunt, suggesting to the son of a Viper-Demon that he accompany me on a water mission, but my good mood made me continue the banter.

You really think I’ll need two to accompany me? I grinned, making him avert his eyes.

Your body is technically sixty-one years old already. I thought it might be better if… Ashamed of the suggestion, he let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

Giving him a bear hug, and thumping him on the back, I laughed,

Come on, you know me better. Have I ever taken offense when one of you commented on my age? I’m not as feeble yet, despite what Azal says in the stories he likes to tell. You’re lucky, being stuck in your mid-twenties forever!

Yeah, sometimes it’s just hard to act that age when you’ve lived more than a millennium…, he grumbled.

I’ll get the car, and our fishing gear, please tell the others to be ready in twenty minutes, I replied turning back to business before leaving the room.

*******

Fifteen minutes later, the boat and trailer were attached to the Ford pickup truck, with the fishing net secured. Bijou’s and my diving gear lashed down on the platform. Kuno didn’t need any. His Half-Demonic form was a giant Sea Horse. An ability he had learned to use at will, up to the point of only sprouting gills when needed.

While I waited, I pondered once again what my powers might have been. I didn’t know my demonic father. My abilities had been ripped from me before I even knew what I’d inherited. Most of the others had retained some sort of control over the abilities they had since birth.

The curses the Angels had inflicted were subtle, designed for continued suffering. Their meaning only becoming clear to us much later. The punishments, as I liked to call them, involuntarily triggered our inhuman appearance most of the time. In my case, I appeared as a horned Demon, clad in smoke and fire. However, unlike the others, I couldn’t change to this alternate form at will.

Phoenicia for example, had burned down a temple, killing all the priests inside, after she’d turned into a fiery Phoenix when they had refused to help her sick little brother. After the Angel had cursed her, she couldn’t come near any kind of fire without turning into a Phoenix again.

Back then, it had meant she was always cold, and in the dark. She wasn’t able to join others at the fire in the evenings, or even cooking a hot meal. Today, the challenge consisted mostly of staying away from people lighting a cigarette. After she’d almost burned down one of our storage sheds, we had banned all open fire, and smoking, from The Farm.

*******

The slamming of the passenger door ripped me out of my musings.

Ready, Boss? Bijou asked while buckling up in the front seat. Kuno slid silently into the back.

CHAPTER 3

Kuno

It was, at least, a twenty-hour drive from The Farm to Seattle, taking turns driving, and sleeping in the car, but flying had proven much too dangerous. Being stuck in a plane with unsuspecting humans for hours was no fun at all. To shorten the time, we’d started sharing stories of our lives with the others while driving. So, as soon as we were on the road, Bijou turned to Kuno.

Hey, Water Boy, we’ve never been together on a mission. I’ve still not heard your story. Come on, enlighten me, before I get bored, and do something stupid!

I could hear Kuno sigh from the backseat before giving in to the inevitable, telling his story once again. By now, I’d heard it several times. I wondered how Bijou would react to his dry and emotionless recollection.

*******

My parents, my siblings, and I lived in a small fishermen’s village at the shores of the Gulf of Aden, in a land known as Somalia today. Kuno began. "My Dad was a fisherman. My Mum sold dried, salted fish at the weekly bazaar. My Dad taught me to sail a boat, how to cast the fishing nets, and reel them in. I was the oldest. Most of my youth, we worked together to feed our ever-increasing family.

I had four younger sisters before my little brother was born. I’d almost come of age when he was old enough to learn the trade. One day, we were caught at sea by a storm. The world around us went dark, rain pelted down, soaking us within seconds. The waves got bigger and bigger. Our small boat was running full of water, then lightning brightened the sky. I saw my little brother slip on the planks and go overboard. Without thinking, I followed him into the churning waves.

I couldn’t see anything, and was sucked deeper, and deeper, by the currents of the sea. I couldn’t find my brother, or even determine which way was up, or down. I was getting lightheaded from lack of air. Then, something inside me expanded, pushing its way out. It was the first time I shifted my form, ending up as a giant Sea Horse.

I didn’t understand what was happening. I almost panicked, but then I saw my little brother floating by. I simply forgot what had happened to me, concentrating on him instead. He was unconscious. I caught him with my mouth. With a few flicks of my tail, I reached the surface, dropping him aboard the deck of our boat. Then, I gently tried to push them back ashore. I didn’t notice the coral reef before it was too late. The ship’s hold was ripped open from bow to stern, sinking it completely. They both drowned. I had failed, I hadn’t saved them after all.

The moment my tail touched sand, I returned to being human again. I swam ashore, intent on returning home with the devastating news, but a blinding light stopped me in my tracks. An Angel appeared in front of me. He refused to hear me out, called me the son of a Demon. He accused me of killing my foster father, and half-brother, on purpose.

Then something was ripped from my body. He left in a flash of light with the following words, Your heart shall never again feel the relief of crying, every time tears touch your skin you will turn back into the monster that killed part of your family.

I never returned home. I knew I couldn’t face my Mum without crying. I ached to tell her what had happened. I needed to ask her about my real Dad, but I didn’t dare turn into a monster in front of her eyes. I went into the desert instead, far away from any water, and the memory of my crime. Back then, I considered the curse justified. I had killed them. It didn’t matter that it had been an accident.

When I was alone in the desert with no soul in sight, my heart clenched at the memory of my loss and failure. I started crying. The moment my own tear slid down my cheek, I shifted, a creature of water lying in the sun on hot, dry sand. I embraced death like an old friend while I felt myself dry out under those merciless rays.

I must have fainted from dehydration, because when my consciousness returned it was night. I was lying on the ground in my human form, hurting all over from the worst sunburn ever. After realizing that I couldn’t die, I tried to bottle up all emotions inside to keep me from crying, but it’s still difficult, even after such a long time. I can’t watch a sad movie, or even comfort a crying friend, out of fear a tear might touch my skin."

*******

Heavy silence hung in the air. Then, a sound from the passenger seat made me slam the breaks to stop the car at the side of the road as fast as possible. Kuno’s story had affected Bijou in the worst possible way. She was trying hard to stifle a sob. Despite his calm, detached outer appearance, soft-hearted Kuno was bound to be influenced by her emotions.

Get out, now! I yelled at him. The door was ripped open. He pelted into the next corn field at full speed.

For a moment, I really thought he might manage to stop himself