Fallen {Angel of War Trilogy: Book 1}

Chapter 2

"Dean?!"

Sam's voice was hoarse, but he continued to yell in hopes of his brother answering. But if he knew what was happening on the other side of the door, perhaps he wouldn't.

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"Good morning." Dean smirked in her face and popped the cap of his beer bottle towards her.

The girl winced when the metal made a small sliver on her right cheek. Blood as red as crimson dripped down her face.

"Well, at least we know you bleed."

She growled, refusing to say anything. Her wrists were taunt against the chains. Closing her eyes, she hissed under her breath - the symbols on the wall inhibiting her greatly. It became obvious to the man in front of her that she was completely and utterly helpless.

"Now," Dean slid the only other chair in the room in front of her. He turned it around and straddled it, his arms resting over the top of it. "What are you? You're not a vamp - no fangs - and you're not a demon and you're not human."

"Why don't you untie me and find out?" The girl spit.

Dean's candy green apple eyes fluttered in disbelief, saliva dripping down his stubbled chin. His jaw locked and his knuckles turned white when he gripped the chair. The glare given by the girl was equal to his; who the hell did she think she was?

"Sweetheart, that was a bad idea."

The metal chair was flipped across the room, rattling as it hit the concrete. His alcohol stained breath filled the air around her, his rough hands grabbing her face. The callouses of war gripped her cheeks tight, making her look at him. A prick at her throat alerted her to the cold steel pressed against her flesh.

"You see," His eyes seemed to pierce into her soul, "This is an angel's blade, it practically kills everything. But, if you'd like to test that theory, then go ahead, make me angry."

Anger burned in his soul - a righteous man turned sour. Something warm trickled down her throat and she could feel the sweat and blood mingle together down her chest. She felt her eyes glow, her thoughts spinning on how she could kill this man with a simple thought. He was nothing in the realm of this universe, that's what made humans unique - everyone thought they were important.

"DEAN!" A muffled voice called.

The girl felt her anger melt at his humanity, or perhaps the lack there of. Dean's eyes looked away from her and the prick of the blade left too when he heard his name. The person before her, this man, was no longer human. She could see that, his heart was turning black with the hatred for his own kind.

Pointing the blade at her, noticing her fingers itching to free herself of the chains, a gruff voice halted her attempt for freedom.

"Unless you want this blade in your gut, you'll stay put."

The rusty lock slid open and the doors pulled apart to reveal the angel she had met earlier and the man with long hair. They studied her and then him - the angel was angry but not as angry as the man with long hair.

"Dean, what did you do!?" He scolded, which for some reason seemed unnatural to her.

"Well, I was getting some information out of her-"