Lycan Secrets

By Laura Prior

Jasmine knows her life will never be the same. As a valkyrie - fallen angel hybrid, she will have a part to play in the coming apocalypse whether she likes it or not. When the nephilim are attacked, the angels are forced into the fight and send their warriors out to retrieve two angelic relics which have the power to sway the battle either way.

With demons, vampires and fallen angels banding together to create an army, the pressure s on Jasmine and Zach to produce an alliance that can rival it.

With new and old enemies coming into play, Jasmine finally learns what she's made of . . . but what will the price of this revelation of secrets be? Will Jasmine learn who she really is, only to lose everything she ever wanted?

The fifth installment of the Falling series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Prior
• Release date: Jun 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310950827

Laura Prior

Laura Prior lives in Melbourne Australia with her fiancé, two daughters and two dogs.

Book preview

Dedication

Dedicated to my wonderful Simon, for putting up with my craziness while writing the fifth book in the Falling series.

I’d like to thank my editor Lauren McKellar for working your magic over my writing and for the hilarious comments that keep me going. To Sheree and Tanya for your unwavering support and enthusiasm for planning plot twists late at night. Thanks to Kyle for making the beautiful covers for the Falling books.

I’d like to say a huge thank you to all of my fans and readers of the Falling series. I am only able to continue writing because you are buying my books. I hope you have fallen in love with the characters as much as I have. Please continue to show your support by buying the books and recommending them to everyone you know who could use a bit of love and lust in their life.

1

"Good girls do bad things sometimes."

Unknown.

The air was unseasonably warm, despite the damp. I could feel the heat emanating from somewhere up ahead. Beads of sweat formed on my skin and began to trickle down my body, clinging on to every hair, pooling in every hollow. I shifted uncomfortably. Sweat had made my T-shirt cling to my body and I plucked it away from my skin, earnestly seeking some relief. There was none to be had. Instead, I gained an odd feeling, the feeling of intense eyes resting on me. Was someone watching me?

I swung around to face to bushes behind. I heard only the whispering of the leaves, the sighing of the branches as they swayed high above me. The shadows stayed still, pensive, as if holding their breath.

Not realizing I had already gone into defense mode, I unclenched my fists and let my frown ease. I was being paranoid; there was nothing there. There was no one watching.

Turning back around, I continued to march in the direction that pulled at me. There was something calling me with intensity; no, an urgency. The need within me to follow it had blossomed into an ache that couldn’t be denied. The strange thing was that I didn’t even care. Apparently, I didn’t mind in the slightest that someone or something was pulling me in an unknown direction, towards another unknown destiny. And wasn’t that ironic? The plot lines of my already peculiar life were changing as quickly as I could figure them out. As soon as I thought I knew which way was up, an unseen hand came along and turned it upside-down. .

Right now, I couldn’t seem to drag up enough care factor to be bothered about the obvious compulsion I was feeling. I guess I had learned how to land on my feet; I’d figured out that nothing was under my control. I could do nothing by fighting my fate. I would just have to accept whatever was thrown in my path. Going to sleep in my bed beside my lover, then waking up and walking through an unknown forest with not a care in the world was just the latest in a long line of odd things to happen to me.

I marched steadily onwards only to freeze in my tracks. A high-pitched scream rang out, echoing again and again, each time more pitiful and agonizing than the last. When my heart finally began to beat again, I ran. With terror and anguish at the forefront of my mind, I sprinted through the trees towards what I thought was the origin of the scream. My mind was blank, no plans yet formed. The list of enemies that usually clicked through my brain was nowhere to be found. Anyone could be ahead, and today I didn’t care.

I regained my common sense after a few minutes. I would be of no help to anyone if I ran straight into danger. I slowed to a jog and cautiously made my way closer to what every fiber in my body told me was my destination.

I inched closer, ducking behind a thick tree trunk when I heard a low rumble of voices. I placed my palms on the trunk before me and leaned close, trying to hear what was being said. I shook my head, thinking to clear my ears as the voices reached me low, guttural and completely muffled. I couldn’t understand any of it. I knew what the cries meant though. I recognized the pained bellow, the scream for help, then the anguished sob when none came.

I peered around the tree, clinging so tightly the bark abraded my cheek and arms. I focused intently on the figures, trying to make them out. A group of maybe four or five tall males stood with their back to me. They spoke and laughed with each other, and every now and again one would step forward then retreat. What were they doing? Who were they?

I had to wait longer than I cared to before I found out. Just as I intended to creep across to the right, in the hopes I would get a better view point, they separated, leaving a clear visual path, showing rock rising up from the ground ahead of them.

A man was strung up before them against the rock-face. His arms and legs were spread wide, swords anchoring his flesh to the rock. Blood poured down the wall, leaving a red trail behind him as one at a time, his tormentors reached forward to slash at him. I could make out his shape, I could even tell that he was male but his features were smooth—he had no face. There was no way to identify him. Had his attackers somehow melted his face? My stomach heaved at the thought and I had to hold my abdomen, swallowing the bile that rolled up my throat.

I took a deep breath when I could, filling my lungs to bursting point. Hoping my courage wouldn’t fail, I took a step away from the tree. They could see me any second; all it would take was one more step and any one of them could turn around and spot me.

My breath was wrenched away as I was brutally knocked to my back, a heavy weight pinning me to the uneven ground. My head spun and I tried to scream against the hand covering my mouth as loud beeping filled my ears. I bucked my hips, needing to dislodge the weight from my thighs. I scowled and roared out all my anger, however I remained flat against the ground. I rolled to my front and tried to crawl away, anger stirring at the lengths that I had to resort to to get this hulking great brute off of me.

I managed to scramble forward a few feet before I was flipped roughly onto my back. I grunted as my head smacked against the stones beneath me. I began to channel my power, my rage finally beginning to flare into a startlingly ball of heat. It was comforting to be able to feel the flames licking at my skin, singeing my hair and burning my clothes. The heat was delicious and I felt laughter bubble up inside me as red-hot euphoria began to take over, transforming me from a young, innocent Nephilim to an ancient valkyrie. The heat was so scorching it was . . . icy. Icy? I felt shivers running up my arms, cold, frosty trails inching their way towards my heart. My heat was failing, my flames receding. I was losing! A scream ripped through my throat but no sound emerged.

The beast straddling me leaned closer. Be quiet and stop struggling and I’ll release your body and your voice, a voice hissed.

I froze as I stared up at the mouth inches away from my own. The one that hadn’t moved despite the words I heard whispered in my head.

I stopped struggling and was rewarded when he released one of my hands. Slowly, I lit a flame in the palm of my hand and held it up to light his face so I could see him in the darkness.

Expressive brown eyes gazed down at me, a look of bewilderment and anxiety on his face. Brown hair fell forward across his forehead, following the line of a scar that ran through his eyebrow and continued on through his cheek.

Get off me! I hissed through clenched teeth. Panic poured through me as I realized I still hadn’t uttered a sound.

He shook his head emphatically. I saw what you were about to do! You were going to run straight for them. His voice rumbled through my head accusingly.

He must be talking telepathically, I thought. I was still infuriated and I began to wonder how to form the words in my mind before realizing he had already demonstrated he could hear what I was trying to say.

Someone is being tortured. I gasped silently. You’re just going to hide back here when that person is in agony? When they’re screaming for help?

He frowned fiercely. And what would you have done exactly? You can’t save him!

I can try, I whispered angrily, which is more than you’re doing.

How can you . . . you don’t understand. He pulled back with a dawning comprehension.

I scrambled back, leaning up on my arms. I don’t understand what?

He reached forward and grasped my chin between his thumb and fingers. You’re not here. They’ll trap you here like us. You need to go back.

I am here, I replied. I reached up to touch my throat, relief coursing through me; he had released my voice. I knocked his hand aside. I can touch you.

He shook his head. You can’t be. This is wrong. You’re not meant to be here. You can’t do anything to help because you’re not meant to be here yet, but they will still be able to sense you. You’re not here. He leaped back away from me and stood, towering over me. If they notice you, there’s nothing I can do to help you. Go.

I dragged myself to me feet and looked up at him. I began to understand what he was saying. This reality wasn’t mine. It was a vision, like those I’d had of Zach. The same thick air surrounded me, the almost foggy atmosphere soothed my skin just as before. I wasn’t here. It was a dream, a vision.

I took a few steps away from him reluctantly, letting the shadows take me.

Wait, I hissed sharply. Who are they?

I heard a sigh. The horsemen of the apocalypse. Now go!

2

"Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are."

Unknown.

With a gasp I shot upright in bed. I was shaking like a leaf. The hair on my arm stood up on end, tense and prickly nerves shooting through my scalp to run down my spine.

What’s wrong? a gravelly voice murmured beside me.

I whipped my head around to narrow my eyes at the well-built, jaw-droppingly, heart-meltingly gorgeous man lying on my bed. Too hot, he had pushed the sheets off and was stretched out, completely naked.

My heart fluttered as a slow burn began to simmer low in my abdomen, my attention pulled away from the vision.

Zach . . . my Guardian angel, known as one of the most ferocious warriors of the Heavenly Realm was in my bed. He was mine, my soul mate, and trust me, if I could tattoo my name onto him right beside the thick swirling tattoos that ran down his body, I would.

He was a man made up of contradictions. He was an angry, raging soldier, a merciless killer, yet he had a wounded, tired soul that ached to be at peace. We could have the hottest most furious of rows, and then he would melt my heart with his soft, quiet words and actions. Despite the fact that his protectiveness could sometimes feel like smothering, he had proven he was worth every irritatingly arrogant look he gave me by saving my life countless times.

Besides his oddly endearing personality, my Zach was a lot of man to handle. Towering over me at six-and-a-half feet, his shaved head, eyebrow piercing and thickly-built body complete with muscle ropes everywhere sometimes made me think I was dreaming. It wasn’t that I thought I was ugly; on the contrary! I had long, blonde hair and a flawless, if a little pale complexion, and gray-green eyes that only seemed to be getting greener. I was five foot six, with a pleasing hourglass figure. I was strong, a fierce fighter and talented at killing. No, it wasn’t my looks that made me disbelieve my luck.

When I had thought I was a nephilim—half angel and half human, I could see the link between us, though even an angel and a nephilim together would raise a few eyebrows. However, as it turned out, I wasn’t a nephilim at all. No, I was partly made up of the most reviled of beings and an absolute enemy of the angels—I was half fallen angel.

Thankfully the other half of my gene pool came from a valkyrie warrior. As the tale goes, the valkyrie were the Norse God, Odin’s, soldiers. They collected the souls of warriors who died in glorious battle and delivered them to the Hall of the Gods where they dined with the Norse Gods until Ragnarok: the final battle . . . the apocalypse.

Everyone I knew seemed to describe it as harvesting the human souls, and that was just one of the reasons why the angels and valkyrie didn’t get along. Angels preferred for all souls to be judged then taken to the Heavenly realm. They managed to take just about all of the human souls there… except the ones that the valkyrie collected.

Either way, my half fallen angel and half valkyrie self wasn’t exactly loved in the nephilim safe house. Zach was firmly on my side of course, as were Sam and Gwen—both nephilim, and Trev—now some sort of vampire-nephilim. Haamiah led the angels, being the most senior angel class in the safe house, Elijah tolerated me, and Maion and his newly recovered soul mate, Zanaria, despised me. Seeing as how Zanaria had been decapitated by a nephilim, I used to be able to kind of see their point but hello—no longer a nephilim! Their hatred of me made life a little awkward. Maion was Zach’s best friend and Zanaria was his sister.

I was still waiting for Zach to take off his rose-colored glasses and see me for what I was: a creature that shouldn’t exist, formally a drug-addicted loser, who no one in his life particularly liked. He could definitely do better than me.

Jasmine, what’s up? Are you dreaming?

My thoughts snapped right back on track. Yes. No, it wasn’t a dream. I think I had a vision.

Zach sat up immediately, his black eyes focused on me, his expression serious.

Tell me, he demanded.

I shrugged. It didn’t really make a lot of sense. I was in this place . . . a wood, or a forest, I think. I could hear screaming, I could hear someone being tortured so I crept closer.

Of course you did, he muttered.

I glared at him. I hid behind a tree and watched; it wasn’t as if I ran out into the open! He didn’t need to know that I’d almost done exactly that. And remember, I’m seriously bad-ass now. I can handle myself.

He rolled his eyes in response and gestured impatiently for me to continue my story.

Well, there were a bunch of creatures surrounding this person.

Fallen?

I don’t know.

Demons?

I glared again. I don’t know! I thought for a second. "Actually, this guy was there and he said—"

Zach leaped out of bed and scowled at me. "Someone saw you?"

I slipped out of bed and fisted my hands against my hips. It’s not as if I planned to have a vision!

Yet you go talking to strangers when someone’s being tortured? he hissed. Don’t you realize you could have been hurt? Visions aren’t to be played with Jasmine!

Rage, blindingly hot poured through my veins, my fallen side flaring to life. I tapered it down, reasoning that he was only worried for my safety.

The horsemen of the apocalypse, I answered blithely, sick of the argument already.

Zach froze, his face becoming an unreadable mask. What did you just say?

I bit my lip anxiously and pushed my messy hair back over my shoulder. That’s what the guy called them. I was going to try to stop them but the guy told me they were the horsemen of the apocalypse. He told me to run. I lifted my hands and shrugged. Then I woke up.

I blinked and Zach was no longer across the room but just inches away, clasping my shoulders, a blank mask covering his face.

You’re lucky you didn’t try to interfere. You wouldn’t have survived it, he said sternly.

I frowned. They wouldn’t have been able to tell I was there. I was in a vision, remember?

Zach shook his head slightly. The horsemen are different. They can see and reach between dimensions. They would be able to see you and they’d be able to kill you.

What about the guy I saw? He could see and touch me too.

Zach scowled at that. I don’t know. We need to know about him. Maybe he’s affiliated with them.

I shrugged. He didn’t feel evil.

Zach rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the bedroom door. I struggled against his hold and pulled back.

Where are we going? I hissed.

We need to confer with Haamiah. I need to know if this might happen to you again and how I can protect you.

I scowled. I can protect myself.

Zach groaned in frustration. "Enough with your girl-power trip! I know you’re strong! I know you have faced many evil beings."

Including the Queen of the Damned, I added angrily.

Even so, you’re no match for them. He reached out to take hold of my arm again.

Jesus, Zach! I exclaimed, spinning away. "At least let me put clothes on! And you certainly can’t go down looking like…that."

I almost smiled at his shocked look, his eyes taking in my nightie and then looking down at himself in all of his nude glory. He growled low in his throat, pulled on a pair of black trousers and snagged a T-shirt from the floor. He left the room, pulling the door closed with a bang.

I sighed and headed for the bathroom. It didn’t take long to clean up and dress, so within a few minutes I was following Zach out the door and down the stairs.

The safe house we lived in was beautiful, not just in looks but in its whole purpose for being. A number of them existed across the world, run by angels and lived in by their half-angel half-human offspring. This one was nestled in a quiet suburban area along the coastline, set back near the wetlands. The other houses nearby were equally private, hiding behind luscious gardens and thick vegetation. Ours was a two-story building with a wrap-around porch and a long garden at the front and back of the house. Downstairs, at one end an open-plan kitchen-dining room was large enough to sit the vast amount of nephilim who called this place home. From then onwards, offices and school rooms were used for angelic lessons and were decorated accordingly. Upstairs, thirty bedrooms, some single and some double, ran from one end to the other, with larger dorm rooms in the middle.

The angels didn’t need to sleep unless they had expended a large amount of energy or were injured, in which case they usually rested in the medical room where Elijah was stationed, also upstairs. Otherwise, nephilim were the only occupants of the second floor.

I could hear voices downstairs so I quietly quickened my pace, skidding to a halt as Zach and Haamiah turned to look at me. Haamiah looked bedraggled, his thick, black dreadlocks in disarray, his white shirt wrinkled and untucked. I was sure I could even see grass stains on his trousers. He yawned and ran his hand down his face, looking beyond stressed and tired.

Zach scowled at me before beckoning me over. Together we followed Haamiah as he turned away, shuffling towards his office.

It was three in the morning. Why did Haamiah look so exhausted? Where had he been? Had he been fighting?

I glanced up at Zach as he held the door open for me. I passed by him and stood before the desk. Haamiah had thrown himself into his chair, sinking back into the cushion.

What’s going on? I asked.

Zach and Haamiah glanced at each other, sharing an undecipherable look.

Seriously, I want to know what’s happening, I persisted.

Haamiah was patrolling. He ran into some . . . complications.

Complications? I echoed. Humans?

We hadn’t yet discovered who was behind the worldwide attack on the humans, but the news channels continued to show coverage of human cities being attacked and demolished by supernatural creatures. Fallen angels had attacked the White House, and simultaneously the Houses of Parliament in London had been blown sky-high by vampires and winged demons.

The world was in turmoil, the mystical world uncovered. In the first few weeks that had followed the attack, the human world fell apart, arrests were made, people were murdered, witch-hunts were led and innocent people burned alive. The human army had been unleashed to try to restore order but the demonic beasts continued to appear all over the world, destroying and killing, torturing the victims and leaving carnage in their wake.

Previously the mythical world had been veiled in mystery and secrets. Our existence was now well known. Some supernatural beings didn’t really care about the shift in dynamics; they continued as they always had. Some reveled in their newfound supremacy.

The Angels seemed to have taken it the hardest. Before they had protected and guided humans through life and death, keeping the monsters at bay and preserving their souls, however their job had taken on a more difficult role. The humans were rebelling; factions forming to destroy any unhuman creature, some turning to witchcraft and others worshipping vampires. The Angels had the difficult job of protecting the humans while protecting themselves at the same time.

The safe house hadn’t been discovered yet, due to the vigilance of the Angels. Any actions that could appear different were strictly prohibited and the Nephilim were in lockdown until further notice.

Zach sighed loudly, bringing my attention back to him. I had a habit of drifting off into my own thoughts; post Star Mist much worse than pre.

Sorry. I shrugged. You were saying there were complications.

Zach and Haamiah exchanged a glance.

Haamiah found humans surveying the area.

Surveying the . . . I paused, my eyes flashing in shock. "Surveying us? They were watching us?"

Haamiah nodded grimly.

Do they suspect something? I gasped. If so we were all in danger. News reports were flying in fast and thick of demon hideouts being attacked, vampire nests being set alight and grenades launched into werewolf dens. Just last night a witch had been captured and burned alive, though whether she was actually a witch or just a horribly mistaken human was anyone’s bet.

Not any more, Zach said darkly.

I turned to him in surprise. Surely the angels wouldn’t have killed them? That was against every rule I knew! I whipped my head around to watch Haamiah’s expression.

He sighed heavily. No, we didn’t kill them. Mnemosyne assisted us.

I frowned. Mnemo who?

A trace of a smirk appeared on Zach’s face before being wiped clean. I frowned and raised my eyebrows at Haamiah, demanding an answer.

He splayed