The Falling (Book I)

Perspective

William

The atmosphere in Heaven was so tense everyone's shoulders bunched around their necks. Even the human souls were skittish, preferring to remain in their rooms than venture outside. My own muscles were growing stiff from how taut they had been over the last several months. Joel's orders were being carried out to the letter, but Optima were rare to come by in the Human World, unlike their less prosperous counterparts.

We must have killed dozens of demons and brought back none to be interrogated. The ones we killed were Human-Turned-Demons. They reacted on basal instincts and very few actually had any type of language skills.

I feared Dezso, the Lesser Angel who had been imprisoned, was dead. We had heard nothing of his condition and, without a higher-up demon, we would not learn anything. It was unlikely the demons would care for him, despite him still being a child.

I considered luring Melanie into the Human World under the false pretense of forgiveness. As quickly as I considered it, I changed my mind. If I could not kill her I could not drag her to Heaven to be interrogated. The past year made my heart ill with longing; the damn she-demon had bewitched me more than I realized. Not a day went by that I did not think of her.

It was mid-summer when we received word from Luke he was returning to Heaven with an Optima in tow. Joel immediately ordered the Archangels to convene in the throne room to greet our "guest." A sinking feeling overcame me as I mulled over the possibility of the Optima being Melanie. The chances were higher than I liked.

"William, you appear perturbed. Are you concerned about the Optima?" Joel asked from his throne. I stood beside him for the time being.

I did not look at him, fearing my resolve would break if I did. "No, Your Grace. I am just...contemplating."

"Oh?" I could almost hear his eyebrow raise. "Contemplating what?"

"The Optima," I replied truthfully. My wings shuddered in my apprehension when a Lesser Angel sprinted into the throne room to announce Luke had arrived. "We do not know its abilities."

Half-truth. Melanie detested fighting so much I did not have the foggiest idea what her complete capabilities were. She controlled lightning and she was irritatingly effective at fleeing. If it was her and she attempted to escape, I would have no choice but to pursue and dispatch her by any means necessary.

If I could catch her, that is.

"Lucas is under orders to bind the Optima with power neutralizers, just in case. The fact he was able to bring it this far says much about its abilities compared to the Angel of Death's." Joel said coolly.

I opened my mouth to respond when Luke pushed open the doors. One of his hands was buried in black hair, the other presumably gripping the Optima's wrists. My worst fear was staring me in the face.

Melanie's head was bent back from the angle of Luke's grip, her eyes flitting around. Her pupils were round with terror. The pungent odor of her fear washed over me, and my heart clenched. Some of the Archangels chortled at the strength of her fear. She was dressed in a black frock that may have once been nice, but was now torn and filthy. Her face had smudges of dirt—especially on her cheeks—and I could have sworn I saw a twig poking out of her hair. Time had not been good to her as I noted her sunken cheeks and the dark bruises beneath her eyes. Her skin was paler, though I wasn't sure if that was because of her fear. She seemed to have lost weight and I fretted over what she had been through the last year.

She attempted to step back as she took in all the Archangels. The potency of her distress increased. Luke looked at the back of her head with surfeit when she bumped into him. He shoved her forward and she fell, her head hitting the porcelain floor. I frowned as my comrades snickered at her misfortune. The Angel of Femininity, who was standing somewhat in front of me, sighed in exasperation.