Fear the Fall (Fallen Hunters #1)

Prologue

THE NIGHT WE MET

A pair of sea-green eyes meet mine and time stops.

It doesn’t matter that a lady is bleeding out at my knees, a casualty in a fight with a legion of demons.

I’m transfixed by the man holding the woman in his arms. His five o’clock shadow and ruffled light brown hair make him look rugged and masculine.

Not things I should be noticing, considering the woman is dying and I should be long gone by now.

“Can you help her?” he yells, over the wail of demons being dragged to hell.

If not for the fact that he’s looking right at me, I’d think he was just calling out for help, because humans aren’t supposed to see angels unless God wills it so.

“Help her.” His eyes plead with me.

I jerk backward. “You can see me?”

“Yes, I can see you. Are you going to help?”

I shake the stupor away, baffled by the fact that this human can in fact see me. That’s not possible, unless something has changed. It happens very rarely, but there have been a couple of occasions where God has given his divine mercy at the last second. I don’t question God’s choices.

He’s speaking to me, and that can’t be good for him.

Witnessing a holy war will sign this man’s death warrant.

It’s law. Humans can’t be privy to knowledge of our kind.

They’re to have faith in our existence, but signs are forbidden—except through miracles that I, as a virtue angel, can provide.

Typically, sightings are cause for cleanup of the extermination variety.

Humans aren’t to be touched unless they threaten the balance, and his being able to see me disrupts the balance in an epic way.

“How can you see me?” I demand, looking for some sign that this is, in fact, God’s will.

“I don’t have those answers, angel. Can you help her?” he repeats a little more forcefully.

I shake my head. “I can’t,” I whisper, feeling as though I’m betraying a man I don’t even know, from the way he frowns in my direction. The look of disappointment sears through me.

It’s not my place to interfere in a human’s fate.

I’m not to have interaction with humans, let alone save one.

By law, I should end his life and the woman’s right now, or at the very least, call for an angel of death to do the dirty work.

Or I could provide a miracle and hope God approves of an unsanctioned one.

“Please,” the man begs. “She’s a mother. If you won’t do it for me, do it for her three kids.”

I run my hands down my face, feeling a rush of cold that I shouldn’t feel. Angels don’t experience such things. The elements don’t affect us, and I certainly can’t care about this woman’s family.

But for some reason, I do.

“Is she your wife?” The words slip past my mouth before I can stop them.

The less I know, the better. Being on Earth is horrifically hard for angels, as we don’t typically experience the range of emotions that humans do. Here, I’m getting caught up in matters that don’t concern me.

“No. She’s just an innocent bystander who got stuck in the cross fire.”

I bite my lip, thinking over the options.

The man’s hand lies atop mine, and shivers course through me.

“Help her.”

“Why do you want to help her?” I don’t know why I ask. It doesn’t matter and it won’t change anything.

“She doesn’t deserve to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely you agree?”

His eyes pierce mine; the weight of his words weighs heavily on me. Without another thought, I place my hands on her chest and allow the energy I’ve stored to flow through me into her, shocking life back into her body. She inhales sharply, indicating I’ve just fucked up royally.

If any of my brothers witnessed this, I’d be summoned to the Divine Council.

Since it’s my first offense, I’ll beg for clemency and swear fealty to my legion.

A lifetime’s worth of battle cleanup might save me.

Or I’ll be stripped of my wings and barred from Heaven—a fate worse than death.

Either option is horrific to consider. And for what?

A bit of human lust? That’s what this was, right?

How a virtue angel was able to be affected by such things is a question I’ll need to mull over in greater detail once I’m far away from here and this devastatingly handsome mortal.

I’m one of the strongest beings. Even if Earth affects angels, it shouldn’t affect a virtue this much.

I cringe at the thought. The weakness seeps into my being, making me feel dirty and traitorous.

“She’ll survive,” I say, knowing I need to leave immediately. Something in the air is off.

The sirens blaring in the background indicate that more humans are on their way.

It won’t be long before quite the scene rains down on me.

Glancing around, I’m relieved to see the cleanup process is complete.

When the humans get here, they’ll find nothing more than an injured woman and a man caring for her. My work is done.

“Wait,” he says, reaching out and grabbing my elbow.

A slow burn starts deep in my belly, building all the way up my chest. I close my eyes and attempt to shake off the sensations. Wrong, yet so right.

Emotions like this are impossible for a virtue angel to feel, yet the heat from his touch still burns my skin. Something forbidden. Something that calls to my soul and threatens to rip away my very existence.

“What you saw,” I start, and then stop, knowing that what I’m about to say will go against every law of my kind. But when I look back up to his handsome face, I know I have to warn him. “You’re in grave danger.”

His answering grin confuses me, and I narrow my eyes.

He can’t be making light of this. Does he not realize that by law, I should kill him on the spot?

Does he not know that there is still a real chance that once I leave, another of my brothers could sweep in and do the job I’m somehow incapable—for the first time in my existence—of doing?

“Angel,” he says softly. The very words caress my skin. If I were standing, they would surely buckle my traitorously weak knees. He leans over, trailing one finger down my cheek and over the curve of my exposed neck. I shudder under his touch, my eyes closing of their own volition.

“You’re in danger,” I repeat, stressing the words, needing him to understand the seriousness of this moment.

He shakes his head. “I am the danger.”

Something about the way he says it sends goose bumps racing up and down my spine in equal parts intrigue and trepidation. I rush to explain, knowing my time is running out.

“You can never repeat what you’ve seen here. I won’t compel you to forget, but you must never speak a word of this.” I stand and turn to go, but he’s right behind me, grabbing my elbow once more.

“Why?” he questions, eyes mere slits as he watches me, waiting for my answer. But I don’t know what he’s asking.

“Why won’t you compel me?” he says, solving my unanswered question.

It’s such a loaded question. Why indeed? I’ve been pondering the same thing this entire time, but it all comes down to one very peculiar thing.

“I can’t,” I admit, lowering my head.

Something inside me won’t allow it. It’s not divine intervention. No, this decision is all my own.

“What’s your name?”

I sigh. “I can’t tell you that.”

Giving a human my name is one of the greatest crimes against Heaven.

Our names are sacred, given to us by our creator.

I took an oath to protect it at all costs, because my name can be used as a weapon against me.

Those who speak it can call on me at any moment, and in the hands of a human, that’s dangerous.

“What’s your name?” he repeats, looking deep into my eyes, burning his features into my memory. Prominent square jaw, sloped nose that gives way to full lips and a slight hollow in his chin. Penetrating green eyes that I’ll never forget.

“Victoria,” it slips from my lips, unbidden.

He nods, smiling. “Until we meet again, Victoria.”