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The Fall
The Fall
The Fall
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The Fall

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When you live forever, you think you've seen it all.

Faces blur, time stands still, and nothing can surprise you.

Until I meet her.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Trouble brews. My brethren are divided, but the sides remain unclear.

And now, on top of everything, I'm falling for a human.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 12, 2014
ISBN9781498995467
The Fall

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    The Fall - Sienna Lane

    All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

    SIENNA LANE & AMELIA RIVERS

    Published April 2014

    Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

    Edited by Lauren McKellar

    Proofread by Jenny Sims

    THE FALL is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author

    Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders, The authors acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

    Copyright © 2014 SIENNA LANE & AMELIA RIVERS

    ISBN-10: 1497568854

    ISBN-13: 978-1497568853

    All rights reserved.

    Dedication

    For my sister.

    For believing in me, encouraging me and loving me unconditionally.

    This one is for you.

    Prologue

    Many, many years ago, before the world was as we know it, angels freely roamed the earth, unseen by mortals. These were the Grigori. The Watchers. This all-male race was instructed by God to watch over man and remain in the shadows.

    For a long time, they did as asked. They watched humanity grow, squander, cooperate, kill, desire, and covet. Though the way they channelled it was different, the Grigori observed that the passion man endured was endless.

    Most Grigori were seemingly immune to man’s lustful behaviour. All except for one: Samyaza, the Grigori leader, craved the passion men experienced. He wanted to experience the depth of emotion that drove men to commit such extraordinary acts. Tired of fighting his desires, Samyaza gave into them and committed his first sin; he copulated with the daughters of Eve. Thinking he had gotten away with it, Samyaza continued these brief, passionate relationships with no consequence. His debauchery ended when he fornicated with a beautiful young woman, who in turn bore him two sons.

    Samyaza’s overconfidence meant he did not, could not, foresee that such abominations would be created. Knowing God would be furious were He to find out about his disobedience, Samyaza convinced his fellow Grigori to submit to the lure of humanity. Samyaza told them, I fear that you will not indeed agree to do this deed, and I alone shall have to pay the penalty of a great sin. And they all answered him, Let us all swear an oath, and all bind ourselves to do this thing. And they did.

    Amongst the two hundred Grigori, hundreds of half-breed children were born. The half-mortal, half-divine men of spectacular heights bore the unique gifts of their fathers.

    It was not long, but nonetheless too late, before God found out what His Watchers had done. His fury knew no bounds. He said to the Archangel Michael, Go, bind Samyaza and his men who have united themselves with women so as to have defiled themselves with them in all their uncleanness. Bind them fast for seventy generations in the depths of the earth, till the day of their judgement. In those days they shall be led off to the abyss of fire, to the torment and the prison in which they shall be confined forever. And whosoever shall be condemned and destroyed will from thenceforth be bound together with them to the end of all generations.

    In an attempt to rid the world of the Nephilim, God flooded the earth with an event now known by all as the Great Flood for which Noah’s Ark was built. However, equipped with the powers of their fathers combined with the humanity of their mothers, they were not so easily defeated. And so, the Nephilim walk the earth today, unbeknownst to mortals.

    The Grigori stay locked in Tartarus, where they have remained for millennia, waiting for their day of judgment to come to pass.

    Chapter 1

    Malachi was lounging in his reclining chair, pondering his circumstances. He realised that he had been careless lately. Overconfident. He had been merciless with his expansion. Rather than bothering to negotiate with incompliant obstacles, he had been getting rid of them instead. He was regretting his hasty actions now that he had most certainly gained unwanted attention from his adversary Nephilim brethren. 

    He was deep in thought when a knock sounded at the door. The smell made him sit up a little straighter. Appearances meant everything in a show of power.

    Come in, he said in an intentionally bored voice. The door opened slowly to reveal a demon he had not seen in more than a century. His blond hair was cut to his shoulders, much shorter than when Malachi had last seen him. His eyes were black and empty, his lips twisted into a sinister smile. Asmodeus. It has been a long time.

    Asmodeus inclined his head in greeting, not taking his eyes off Malachi.

    Indeed, it has. Though it seems like ‘twas yesterday. I come bearing a gift, he said, his voice filled with malevolence.

    What is this gift? Malachi asked, aiming for nonchalance though he was burning with curiosity.

    I have been told an interesting prophecy. I thought you may be interested in hearing it after our previous discussion.

    What are you referring to, Asmodeus? Malachi asked with faux nonchalance. I have many discussions with many people. You can hardly expect me to remember them all. Asmodeus narrowed his eyes.

    How many conversations have you had about freeing the Grigori? Malachi did his best not to show his interest, but from the smirk on Asmodeus’ face, it was clear the demon knew he had Malachi’s attention.

    Do tell.

    I have a son of Sariel outside. He was a little ... uncooperative, so I had to persuade him to talk. Unfortunately, he is a little worse for wear. Malachi had seen Asmodeus work over a prisoner before. He didn’t doubt that this Nephilim would rather be dead than face him again.

    Bring him in, Malachi said, his voice low. Asmodeus’ henchmen entered the room, holding a tall Nephilim with a long, blond braid. His face was untouched, while his body was sporting extensive cuts and bruises. Well, you look a little worse for wear.

    I’m guessing Asmodeus worked you rather hard, Malachi said. I’ve always found it interesting that only heavenly weapons could injure us. If we were merely abominations, you would think that any old thing would be able to kill us. He paused, mulling over his own words before turning back to the son of Sariel. Are you ready to talk now? Malachi asked with feigned disinterest, as if it didn’t matter whether the Nephilim answered or not, despite the fact that Malachi’s chest was so tight with anticipation he felt as though his ribs were shrinking.

    The Nephilim lifted his head slowly, as if it took all of his energy to do so. His face was expressionless. This one had been broken.

    Yes, he croaked, his throat dry, probably from screaming.

    Very well, Malachi said. Tell me now.

    The Nephilim’s name was Darian, and he was a son of Sariel. Sariel was one of the four holy archangels and was well-versed in the course of the moon. His children all had healing powers as well as the ability to have true visions. Darian had been recognised as a prophet in the days of old, many labelling him an Oracle.

    Darian took a deep breath, his eyes turning opaque white. On the day where the film between the world’s layers is the thinnest, so shall rise the prisoners once more from their cages. The power of twelve sons of the Spirit Seer shall join and with the pure blood of an Enochian, so shall the prisoners escape. Unforgiven for their sins, they will be a force with which the world has not dealt before. The battles between man and child will morph into something anew, and judgement will pass.

    Malachi’s whole body thrummed with excitement. Finally, the Grigori would be released and unite with their sons.

    Malachi knew what he had to do. He had to free the Grigori. They would not forget such a debt, and would fight by the Nephilims’ side. A force the world hadn’t dealt with, indeed. Together, the Grigori and Nephilim would be able to overthrow Heaven itself. Malachi smiled a true smile for the first time in centuries.

    Chapter 2

    Archer was restless, on edge. They were on the brink of something monumental, he could sense it in the atmosphere. The feeling was suffocating, as if the air itself was warning him of the trials to come.  Additionally, his brother kept saying so, and Jake was never wrong about his predictions. He would always casually mention his dreams and make a joke of it, expecting Archer to laugh with him at the prospect of their impending doom. That was his baby brother, though, never taking anything seriously.

    Archer! Jake yelled. You ready? Jake walked into Archer’s room, looking suave as always. He was wearing navy jeans with a cream-coloured cashmere sweater. It managed to hug his muscular frame, despite being thick for the cold weather, and was a dramatic contrast to Archer’s black slacks and black shirt. Jake was six foot five, with long, dark brown hair that was currently tied at his nape. His hazel eyes and suntanned skin meant that heads turned whenever he stepped into a room, especially one filled with women.

    Let’s go. I’m driving.

    Archer and Jake left their three-bedroom apartment and were on their way. It was a typical Saturday night for Jake, who hit the club almost every weekend. Archer tried to avoid the social scene as much as he could. Tonight, however, they were there on business not pleasure.

    If you see any unfamiliar Nephilim, tell me, Archer said as he drove. They had heard from a source that there were several new Nephilim in town, and they were causing a stir. Several humans have already been found dead, we don’t want anymore. If the police manage to link this back to Nephilim we could have problems.

    At least the dead humans don’t seem particularly innocent, Jake said with a shrug.

    It doesn’t matter, Archer insisted. Drug dealers, gangsters and arms dealers or not, they still attract unnecessary attention. With all this new technology and shit, Nephilim need to stay low. That is the way it should be. Nephilim, the half-angel, half-mortal giants, had roamed the earth inconspicuously for a millennium. It was the ‘inconspicuous’ part that Archer wanted to maintain.

    I know, Archer, Jake said with exasperation, as though he’d heard this a hundred times. He probably had. Archer just didn’t feel like he absorbed the information as effectively as he could. That’s why we started the Vertalur. As the two eldest sons of Samyaza, the leader of the Grigori, Archer and Jake had taken to policing their territory from Nephilim threats along with some of their brethren. They were known as the Vertalur among the Nephilim, which was Enochian for enforcers. They didn’t have many rules, but apparently don’t kill innocent humans was one too many for some power-hungry Nephilim. Like the one they were looking for tonight.

    They arrived at the club, and took a look around. Because of their height, Nephilim were not difficult to identify. It was more difficult now than it had been in past centuries, but he was thankful that humans had grown taller over the years. People had run and screamed from them in the past, crying giants.

    There didn’t seem to be any in the club tonight, except for their friend Chance who was sitting at a table in the corner. Jake’s usual groupies were starting to surface, all hoping to be the one lucky enough to get his attention tonight. A few girls tried to gain Archer’s interest, but when they realised they would have no luck they decided to look for new prey. Smart girls.

    Archer went over to Chance’s table, and took a seat next to him. Chance, how you been?

    Archer. Chance smiled, and nodded his head in greeting. Good to see you, cousin.

    Given that all Nephilim were fathered by the Grigori, ‘cousin’ was a term of familiarity and endearment.

    Any news? Archer asked, and Chance shrugged casually, which could mean nothing, anything, or everything.

    Nothing much really. He apparently goes by the name Malachi. Not from these parts, and he was here last night chatting up the new bartender. Her name is Addison. Chance nodded his head in the direction of the bar. Archer glanced there and saw a dark-haired girl talking to a customer. I doubt she will have much to say, but I figured you should talk to her and see if you have any luck. He took a quick sip from his drink before continuing.

    Where’s Jake? Chance asked, raising his eyebrows. The two of you are never far from each other.

    Archer looked around for Jake and spotted him on the dance floor, blond girl in hand. Or rather, her ass in his hands. She was grinding against him rhythmically, and both of them seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Okay, well at least Archer was there on business. He showed Chance where Jake was and he chuckled.

    I should have known. Chance smirked.

    Archer looked at Chance. His friend had short blond hair, a bit longer in the front, dark-blue eyes, and fair skin. He was about six foot six, and dressed elegantly in his usual attire, a tailored black suit. Chance was the epitome of sophistication, a true gentleman. He was also one of Archer’s oldest and most trusted friends. Although not blood brothers, Archer considered Chance family and always appreciated having him at his back. Pretty though he was, the man could fight like nobody’s business.

    Several girls were eyeing him from the next table. Chance was a ladies’ man in his own rights. He enjoyed women occasionally, though not nearly as often as Jake. A football team couldn’t keep up with Jake’s conquests.

    You gonna go enjoy yourself, cousin? Archer asked him, giving him a knowing smile. Chance smiled back, all dimples. No one would think this man could be a lethal killer, Archer mused.

    Chance stood up and rested his hand on Archer’s shoulder. I guess I will. Call me if you find out any information. With that, he walked over to the next table and started talking to one of the women. Sensing that this was his cue to leave, Archer got up and made his way to the bar. Time for business.

    ***

    Addison O’Donnell was actually getting the hang of this bartending gig. After a week of working at Cyclone nightclub, she wasn’t hating the job, and coming from Addison that was a huge accomplishment. She was new to the city, and as a full-time law student, the bartending hours suited her schedule. Plus, she was in dire need of the cash. Putting up with sleazy men a few nights every week was worth having enough money to pay her rent. Oh, and eat. Addison went to the back for her fifteen-minute break. She was about to sit down when Chloe, the bar manager, walked in with a huge smile and dreamy eyes. Chloe was a petite blonde with short, spiky hair, and baby-blue eyes. She was the opposite of Addison in more than just appearance.

    Addison, you know that tall, dark, and handsome guy who comes in sometimes? The one I was telling you about? Addison nodded, then frowned when she realised Chloe talked about so many of the male customers she had no idea which one she was referring to. Addison didn’t understand it. She was rarely attracted to any guy.

    Well, he’s at the bar, Chloe continued, not waiting for a verbal answer from Addison.

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