The Falling (Book I)

Convergence

William

My heart went with her when she fled into the storm. I bit my cheek to keep myself from calling out to her. The hurt expression on her face before she whirled around was burned into my mind. This is for the best, I kept reminding myself, rubbing my sore chest.

Maybe one day I would believe that.

She caught me off guard when she turned on me and even through the fluidity of her motion, there was hesitancy. I recalled her smile breaking as she voiced how much she detested the idea of harming me in any way. When I thought about it, whenever we got into a physical fight she always was unwilling to hurt me even when I beat her within an inch of her life.

I suddenly felt very foolish for having this house built. For her, my subconscious whispered. I shook my head sharply and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey. I yanked the cork out with my teeth and took a long swig, grimacing as it burned going down. Glancing out the window, I determined I would be here for a while, the storm giving no hint of mellowing out.

With a sigh, I went upstairs, bottle in hand, and flopped down on the bed. The wind howled loudly, the house creaking slightly from its force. Luke was nearby, probably taking care of some poor human caught in this blizzard.

I wondered if he would run into Mel. I was not sure which was worse: imagining Luke killing her or her wandering alone in the storm, lost. My leg spasmed, as though wanting to stand and prevent such a thing from happening. I gulped down more whiskey until my brain was decently fogged over.

I had no idea what I had even been thinking, wanting to court a demon. They were vile, inherently evil creatures that lived off the pain and suffering of others. They were not...human. Their intelligence was just barely higher than an average beast's. They were liars.

Mel was the worst with her deceptively honest eyes.

I should have just killed her the first time. As was common for me now, I felt a pang in my chest at the thought of her limp body impaled by my sword. I never enjoyed killing but it was a fact of life for me as an Archangel. Fighting thrilled me but actually taking a life? It made the fire inside me fizzle.

It was growing dark out and the storm died down.I hoped she got to the portal safely. I sat up and dropped the empty whiskey bottle on the wooden floor. I rubbed my eyes and sighed loudly. I snapped my fingers and my Book of Life appeared in my hands.

The Book of Life held the names of every human being born since the Old Times. The humans who were deceased were still in it, their names faded to represent their expiry. The pages never ran out. The Book was bound in black leather from a sheep, the parchment made from the white tree in God's garden. The quill came from a phoenix feather and required no ink.

Names filled my head and I began to scribble the names down, mouthing them as I did so. I found it easier to say the names as I wrote; it kept my mind from wandering.

It was maddening to hear the names, though. My father's older brother, an angel I had never met, lost his mind when he could not control the flow of names. He ended his own life. That was the first thing Pater taught me when I began my training: how to "shut off" the names.

"William?"

Luke stood in the doorway.

I grinned at him. "Hello, brother. What brings you here?"

His eyes softened. "I sensed a demon near Tobias' sanctuary. I went there, but there was no sign of one."

My heart skipped. I tried to come across as nonchalant. "I chased that one off hours ago."