Daughter of Eden, Book Three: Children of the Fallen

By J.M. Cagle

War has come to earth. The angels of heaven, tired of watching humans grow continuously unworthy of God’s devotion, have come to earth to destroy them. Sam, the archangel Satan, was appointed man’s protector and he continues to fight for them despite losing the loyalty of his own legion of angels.

Joey Trevor, an English teacher from Austin, Texas, met Sam shortly after she was attacked in her shower by an unknown creature. A short time later, she found herself under Sam’s care, barely outrunning continuous attacks, including a massacre at an Illinois lake-side cabin where she saw Sam in his angel form. As natural disasters and a raging illness destroy much of what was the modern world, Joey begins to learn the truth about who she is and the role she will play in this war.

Joey is the key to stopping the war between the angels. Joey has a gift that allows her to see the souls hidden behind the façade humans show to the world. She can see which souls can be a productive part of the future and which harbor evil, those who serve a purpose to the raging angels. This gift continues to grow and change as the war progresses. Sam tells Joey she is destined to lead the humans should they end the war, but she must find her soul mate, the man she would have shared her life with if the war had not begun. The only problem is, Joey is in love with Sam.

In a struggle that makes both Joey and Sam question the ideas of freewill and fate, they gather together an army and turn their attention to ending a war over which, they quickly discover, they have very little control.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Mulle
• Release date: Jul 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311325181

J.M. Cagle

J.M. Cagle began writing stories while in high school. She went on to attend California State University, Dominguez Hills and continued her pursuing her writing interests by interning at KTLA, a Los Angeles television station. She also became a sports writer for two community newspapers. She would attend sporting events and write articles on the games. Ms. Cagle also worked part-time at internationally acclaimed The Studios at Paramount where she garnered first-hand knowledge of the intricacies of television and film production. She has since gone on to write a multitude of screenplays and theatrical productions.Ms. Cagle’s focus is now centered on the writing genres of romance, paranormal and suspense novels. She also enjoys writing in the spiritual genre as well. When she isn’t engaged in her favorite pastime of writing she takes pleasure in singing, visiting the beach, bicycling, reading, walking and spending time with her loved ones. Ms. Cagle currently resides in Michigan where she continues to speak her heart through her writing.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Joey woke suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know where she was, or how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was a lake in moonlight and…

Sam.

Sam was hurt. She remembered seeing him there by the lake, a golden sword above his head. There was a wound along his hip, a deep wound that had bled so profusely that his jeans were soaked in blood. And it was all because of her. He was trying to protect her, trying to keep someone—something—from taking her.

Sam? she muttered, turning onto her side and nearly rolling off of whatever it was she lay on.

Don’t move.

It was Jackson, her friend Jackson. He ran a hand over her head.

Where are we?

Just entering Chicago.

Chicago? She sat up, moving from the gentle touch of his hand. It was dark, but she could feel the steady vibration of the SUV’s engine now. Why are we in Chicago?

We had to get you somewhere safe.

That sounded familiar. Twice Sam had taken her to houses he said were safe, places that were supposed to be protected by him and his strange band of followers. Somehow, trouble had found them anyway, first at the farmhouse in rural Illinois, and later at the cabin beside the lake.

They won’t find us here, Jo, Jackson said.

She looked over at him. He was in his normal persona, looked like the anemic music teacher she had known for two years. He didn’t always look that way. When his fangs appeared they distorted his face, causing his jaw to jut out at an odd angle. And his thin body filled out with ropy muscles, making him appear bigger and taller, somehow. He was a vampire, but not like any vampire Joey had ever read about. He could go out during the day, could stand in sunlight for as long as he wanted without causing him to burst into ash. He also didn’t seem to have a problem with garlic, if his occasional indulgences at the Olive Garden were proof of anything. She had thought he was gay during their years teaching together at the William B. Travis High School. He had a friend, Ronan, he often brought to school events. But it turns out Ronan was his blood donor, not his lover.

How do you know that?

He simply shook his head. Sometimes you just have to have faith.

Corey laughed. Joey glanced at him. He was driving, as he usually did. Corey was another vampire, like Jackson. The two of them seemed to have been elected her protectors over the past few days. They were always with her whenever she was on the move. Ever since she was attacked by Nephilim in the high school bathroom. But Sam was usually there, too. Instead of Sam, however, Valerie, a werewolf who looked shockingly like Joey’s grandmother, was sitting in the front passenger seat.

Where’s Sam?

Valerie glanced back at her. Corey’s laughter abruptly died. Jackson stiffened in the seat beside her.

He’ll be meeting us in a couple of days, Jackson said.

Why isn’t he here now?

Valerie turned in her seat so she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder. He was injured.

Fear trickled slowly down Joey’s spine. Bad?

Valerie reached back and touched Joey’s knee lightly. He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.

Joey looked at Jackson. She knew him. She was once able to read his face easily. She needed to be able to read it now, to be reassured that Sam was really okay, but his face was lost in shadows as he looked out into the city beyond the SUV’s windows. Joey followed his gaze and was shocked by what she saw.

The sun was just beginning to rise, but it looked as though the city had never gone to bed. And for good reason. The streets were filled with rubble. Corey was driving carefully around broken stones and bricks, pieces of furniture and overturned cars. People were wandering around the streets, most of them dazed or crying. It looked as though a bomb had gone off in the heart of the city.

What is this? Joey asked.

Earthquakes, Corey said.

In Chicago?

A lot of strange things are happening these days, Corey said, his voice almost nonchalant, as though it was quite obvious.

It’s happened before, Jackson said. In 1968.

That was also an interesting year, Corey said.

Joey slid closer to the window. She was mesmerized by the destruction. She had never been outside of Texas, had never seen Chicago, except in pictures. There was nothing recognizable about it now. Whole buildings had crumbled onto their foundations. The streets were cracked and buckled in some places. Debris was everywhere.

And the people.

The desperation came off of them in waves. And when they turned toward the SUV, Joey could see behind their facades. It made her physically ill, the glee she saw in their souls even when their masks, their public facades, were filled with horror.

She turned away, bent over to bury her face between her knees as her grandmother had always told her to do.

You okay? Jackson asked, running his hand slowly up her back. She immediately felt better, the nausea disappearing as suddenly as it had come. She closed her eyes, tried not to think about the darkness in the people around her. She forced herself to focus on something different, on something pleasant. Sam immediately came to mind, Sam as he had been the first time they had been alone together in her apartment. Of Sam standing casually in her kitchen even as she held a knife on him.

Not the most romantic first impression.

She had just been attacked in the shower by an unseen assailant. Sam saved her. But she had no idea how he had gotten into her apartment, had no idea who he was. She ran from him, that first time. But it didn’t stop her from noticing how gorgeous he was. Tall, blond, and the palest blue eyes she had ever seen. Whenever he looked at her, she felt like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. It was intoxicating.

It only made things more complicated when she realized either he was insane, or she had finally succumbed to the family legacy of schizophrenia.

And then things spun out of control.

One minute, Joey was an English teacher, discussing Mary Shelley’s The Last Man with her advance class. The next, Sam was standing just inside the doorway giving the students a definition of apocalypse. He insisted she was in danger, that she needed to leave with him. As they argued, her principal confronted them. Joey could see behind her façade for the first time. Joey chose teaching because she rarely saw anything dark behind the facades of children or the people who worked with them. But what she saw behind Mrs. Hernandez’s face was so hideous, so overwhelming, that she had a physical reaction to it. Not only that, but when Mrs. Hernandez touched Joey, it made the vision more intense.

Joey was sick in the restroom. Sam came in to talk to her and the toilets began to explode.

And that was just the beginning. Less than twenty-four hours later, Mrs. Hernandez was dead. Because of what Joey had told Sam about her vision.

Because of her.

Sam said her visions revealed people’s true souls. He said she was the only one who could see those who would survive the coming apocalypse and those who would not.

So far, she had only seen one person with a pure soul.

Not a good start.

She sat up, tears on her cheeks despite herself. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t look at those people, she couldn’t face whatever it was that was coming. And she definitely could not do it alone.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Sam, the way he had looked the last time she saw him. Of the blood staining the top of his hip hugger jeans.

He’s fine. Jackson leaned close to her, whispering into her ear as though he could read her thoughts—which she would not be surprised to learn he could. The injury wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Then why isn’t he here?

Jackson shrugged, but Joey could feel tension come into his shoulders, could feel unspoken answers just under the movement of his shoulders.

Is he angry with me? Did I do something? she whispered, her voice beginning to rise as she spoke the last few words.

Jackson pulled back enough so she could see his gentle, brown eyes. It’s complicated, Jo, he said. Sam will explain—

He’s been promising to explain for days.

It’s complicated, he said again.

She shook her head. Nothing’s that complicated. But then she thought again of that night by the lake. The cabin where he had taken her to be safe, to rest for the night before they continued to run, barely one step ahead of whoever it was who had followed them from Texas to Illinois. She was asleep when Valerie woke her, dragged her to the cellar to hide. From what, she didn’t understand until she went outside and found the front yard covered with dead bodies, their limbs and heads removed by means she was sure she did not want to know.

And then Sam.

What he said… She looked at Jackson and saw truth in his eyes. She had hit on the one thing he did not want to talk about.

He was afraid he had frightened you. When you passed out—

Joey shook her head. He’s the only thing that doesn’t frighten me.

Jackson took her hand between both of his and rubbed them almost roughly. He is good, Joey. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

But is it true? she asked as that last moment, the moment before the world went dark, filled her mind once again:

He turned to her, lifting his heavy, gold sword toward the heavens. Wings sprouted out of his back. They spread out to their full glory, huge wings that could have flown a small airplane without the least bit of strain. But they weren’t anything like the wings Joey had seen in paintings. They weren’t covered in feathers. Instead, they were covered in smooth, tan skin. She could see the thin bones that gave them their shape, could see the tiny blood vessels that kept them nourished. And she could see the finest layer of gold hair shining in the diminishing moonlight.

"You’re an angel."

A deep sadness filled his eyes as he looked at her. His wings moved, pushing air toward her, as though anxious to escape this place.

"I am Satan, he said, his voice echoing in her head with an intensity she felt vibrate throughout her body. Protector of Man."

Is it true? she asked Jackson now.

It is.

She nodded, her thoughts turning not to the religious definitions she had learned as child, but to stories her mother had told her. Stories of angels and supernatural creatures. Stories of a God who set up such an intense sibling rivalry between his beloved children, between the angels and humans, that no one could possibly survive the war that would soon erupt upon the earth. Stories a three year old Joey had believed to be fairy tales. Dotty had told her that Eden was often confused before she was taken to the state hospital to be treated for schizophrenia.

But now, Joey found herself questioning everything she had believed to be true.

Before she could ask Jackson anything else, the SUV made a sharp turn into an underground garage. She looked out the window, but all she could see was concrete too close to each side of the vehicle.

Where are we?

It’s an old bunker, Valerie said, turning in her seat again. It’s impenetrable. We’ll be safe here.

Joey nodded even as she found herself wondering if it was true. Sam had said the same thing about the farmhouse where they had been set upon by strangers in pickup trucks and the cabin where devastation surrounded them within hours of their arrival.

The SUV slowed and then stopped. A huge door set back in the far wall rolled up slowly, banging and shuddering so much that it was the only sound that seemed to exist in this underground world. Jackson opened the side door and stepped down before reaching back for Joey’s hand. She was about to make an offhand comment about his gentlemanliness, but the words died on her lips before she could speak them.

A woman who looked exactly like Dotty—like Valerie—stood in the open doorway.

Joey had been fooled once, so she didn’t obey her instincts at first. But then the woman stepped forward and held out her arms and Joey just knew. Without seeing the steel blue of her eyes, Joey knew it was her Dotty, knew it was the only woman alive she could truly trust.

She ran forward and buried herself in her grandmother’s arms.

Chapter 2

How are you here? Joey asked when she could finally speak over the lump of emotion that had settled in her throat. What about your hip?

Dotty slapped her hip with the corner of her fist. My hip is perfect. Always was.

But the fall… Joey said, confused. The nursing home and everything—

Sam didn’t like you driving out to the ranch every night. And, to be honest, I didn’t like it much, either.

Joey shook her head, stepping back slightly. She and Dotty were in a small bedroom hidden deep within the concrete bunker. Dotty led her there almost the moment she walked through the door, told someone they needed time to catch up. The space was almost claustrophobic, only big enough for a double bed and a small chair. No dresser, no closet, no place to put clothing. It was clearly not meant to be a living space, only a place to rest for a short time before moving on to the next place, the next space of refuge.

It depressed Joey, the temporary feel of it all.

The ranch?

We knew as long as I continued to be there, you would never move into the city. You would never leave me.

Joey ran her fingers through her hair, needing to pace but unable to find the space in which to do it. She studied Dotty, studied the face that was so familiar it almost hurt to look at her. Dotty had raised her practically from birth, caring for her during her mother’s frequent absences the first three years of her life, and later, after Eden went insane and murdered three men in their living room. After Eden was taken away to the state hospital where she continued, as far as Joey knew, to live in happy oblivion. Dotty, the tough, no-nonsense big animal vet. The woman who could stand toe to toe with any man when it came to the welfare of her granddaughter or the animals she loved like her own children, and yet, so gentle that she often spent long nights in the barn with ailing horses and cows.

Her Dotty.

The same Dotty who just spoke Sam’s name.

Joey shook her head, unable to make herself believe what was obvious. So many questions suddenly paraded through her mind, so many things that hadn’t occurred to her until this moment. Like, how was Dotty here? How did she know these people? Why did she look so much like Valerie? So many questions…Joey bit her lip as the obvious answer to each one filled her mind.

You know Sam.

Of course, Dotty said.

No, no, no, she whispered inside her mind, wrapping her arms around herself as she leaned into the cold of the concrete wall.

You were one, too, she whispered.

One what?

One of those he sent to protect me.

Yes.

The word was so simple. As though it didn’t destroy everything Joey had believed about her childhood.

You’re not human.

Yes.

Tears filled her eyes. She bit her lip again, hard enough to taste a little blood before she turned, studied the woman she thought she knew so well.

Then all of that stuff you said when I was growing up, about how you and Eden and I were the last of the Trevor family…it wasn’t true.

It’s true, Dotty said patiently. For you and your mother.

Joey shook her head. Why lie to me?

Dotty stood and held her hands out to Joey, reaching for her. Joey moved away, nearly tripping over the lone chair the room held in her efforts to put space between the two of them.

What are you? she demanded, turning to Dotty just in time to see hurt flash in her blue eyes.

You must have figured it out by now, Dotty said, her voice still calm, still patient. You were always such a bright girl.

Joey shook her head even though, as Dotty spoke the words, she realized she did know the truth. What happened to my real grandmother? There must have been someone—

Of course. Dotty brushed a piece of hair out of her face, the gesture angry even as her voice remained calm. They died in a car accident.

When?

When Eden was an infant.

How? How did she end up with you? Does she know who you are? What you are?

Dotty studied Joey’s eyes for a long minute before she gestured at the bed. Sit, she said. It’s a long story. We would be more comfortable there.

Joey shook her head as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Do you mind if I sit? Dotty asked. These old bones don’t feel pain like humans, but they still tend to ache, especially in this damp place.

Joey gestured toward the bed before wrapping her arms around herself again.

Dotty settled down, making a sound that was almost like the soft grunt of a dog. She ran her fingers through her long, thick gray hair before sliding back and sitting with her back against the headboard, facing Joey.

Sam was told that a special child would come into the world within the next few decades, Dotty began in a conversational tone, as though talking about the weather or an interesting news fact rather than revealing how everything about Joey’s life had been a lie. So, when Eden’s parents were attacked shortly before she was born, he began watching over them. He suspected someone else knew something he didn’t…or thought they did. And it seemed to be confirmed when the family was attacked again, a few days after her birth. Something attacked their car as they were driving home from the hospital. Sam was able to save the infant, but the parents died.

Who attacked them?

Dotty gave Joey a familiar look, one that said she should wait to ask questions at the end of the story. Joey looked away, frustrated and angry and overwhelmed with a dozen other emotions she wasn’t even sure how to express. But she didn’t ask another question.

Valerie and I were living in California at the time. Sam brought the infant to us and told us to keep her safe. And we did, for a while. Dotty smiled as she thought about it. "We moved around a bit, trying to keep Eden from whoever it was that wanted her. But, after a while, it seemed they had given up. That’s when we settled in Austin.

It was Sam’s decision to tell Eden everything. When she was twelve or thirteen, he came to visit us. He told Eden that she was special, that she was meant to help save the human race from a war between angels. He introduced her to Jackson and Belial and half a dozen others. Told her she had to take her personal safety seriously to protect herself from attack. Dotty dragged her fingers through her hair again, her voice becoming something like a growl when she said, I told him he was making a mistake.

Joey leaned back against the wall, pressed her hands against the rough concrete blocks. She tried to imagine Sam speaking to her preteen mother. It was so hard to imagine because her mind still worked with the reality that had been hers just a few days ago, with the idea that a man who looked no older than twenty-five could hardly have been around to tell stories to Joey’s mother over twenty-five years ago.

But that reality was no longer her reality.

Just after her sixteenth birthday, your mother disappeared, Dotty continued. "For weeks we searched. We had no idea where she could have gone. She left for school and simply failed to return. Sam sent everyone in search of her and…nothing. It was as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth. Sam even talked to those not of this world, but could not find her. Nothing like it had ever happened before or since.

And when she returned, she had you in her belly.

She said my father was an angel.

Dotty shrugged. Could have been for all we know.

Then you don’t know who he was.

No.

Joey shook her head. Eden’s insane. You always told me I couldn’t trust anything she said.

Because we were trying to protect you. Dotty leaned forward, her face fierce with emotion. After that, after Eden disappeared, we knew something bigger than anything we had ever experienced before was happening. We knew we had to protect you, both of you, at all cost.

Is that how you protect people? Joey asked, anger suddenly fiery in her chest even as tears burned her throat. She pushed from the wall and approached the bed. Telling them they’re insane and locking them away? Is that what you plan to do with me?

Of course not. Dotty stood and approached Joey, grabbing her upper arms before Joey could move out of her reach. Your mother had her own ideas on how to protect you. When that failed, she had to do whatever it took to make sure you stayed safe. And she did. She gave up everything for you.

Joey tried to step back, but Dotty held her tight. She killed people.

She—we—killed the enemy, Dotty hissed. They came for you and we fought them to protect you. And when the human law enforcement officers came, she pretended to be insane so that they would not investigate too closely, so that they would not take you from me.

She killed them, Joey whispered again, remembering the blood that splattered the small living room of the house they had lived in when she was only three. It was a vivid memory, the color of death mixing with the cheery yellow of the painted walls. But then the memory blended in with another memory, the memory of body parts lying in the dirt, of the cries of wild animals in the night, of the sound of Sam’s voice in her head. She killed them, she whispered again.

She’s better off where she is. Your mother… Dotty hesitated for a moment. She did what she thought was right. But she also did what was easier for her. Dotty ran her hands slowly up and down Joey’s arms in a caress that Joey remembered from so many late night chats, a touch of affection designed to wash away insecurities and doubts. Your mother was not strong, she finally said. She could not handle the weight of the truth. And whatever they did to her…

The words hung in the air for a long time.

Dotty drew Joey into her arms and cradled her head gently against her shoulder in another familiar gesture. None of this changes anything, Dotty whispered into her hair. I love you as though you were my own.

I know, Joey whispered. I love you, too, grandma.

Chapter 3

Hours later she lay alone in the dark, the unfamiliar sounds of the bunker making her wish Dotty or Jackson were somewhere nearby. She’d met dozens of people, none of them she really remembered now. There were dozens here, scattered through the maze like place in rooms just like this one. All loyal to Sam. They talked of him like he was a god, their god. Most of them were vampires and werewolves, some were something different, but she wasn’t quite sure what and was afraid to ask. They were planning for battle in a war Joey didn’t understand and didn’t want any part of. But, somehow, she was stuck in the middle like a child monarch with no clue what it meant to be king.

She was afraid, left alone with her thoughts. Afraid of what had already happened and afraid of what might happen next. Everything she had thought she knew about her life was a lie, but she still didn’t understand the reasons behind it. What was so special about her?

She was just an English teacher.

So she lay alone in the dark, the unfamiliar sounds of the bunker reverberating through her mind as she wondered where the next attack might come from.

And thought of Sam.

Where are you? she asked the empty room.

I’m here.

The words moved through her mind as though she had thought them herself. But they weren’t her words, not her voice that spoke them.

She opened her eyes and felt a connection break as though she had disconnected a phone call. She climbed off the bed and moved around the tiny room, shivering as the coolness of the uncovered floor seeped through the bottom of her bare feet. Jackson appeared in front of her, the closed door not a barrier to his vampire skills.

You okay, Jo? he asked.

She laughed. As okay as anyone in my situation could be, she said.

He stroked her cheek and she felt tingles of pleasure spread slowly from that spot through her mind and into her body. She stepped back. What do you do when you touch me?

What do you mean?

She studied his face for a long second. It’s some sort of vampire thing, right? she asked, feeling stupid saying the words out loud. I wish you wouldn’t.

I just want you to feel better.

But it’s an artificial pleasure, she said, settling down in the lone, rickety chair. The hurt eventually comes back.

True, he said with a soft smile, but when it does, you’re better able to deal with it.

Not this, she said.

Jackson settled on the edge of the bed, reminding Joey, in an odd way, of Dotty. Tell me what’s bothering you.

She snorted, quite unladylike. You should have been a therapist instead of a music teacher.

I was, once.

She looked at him, thought he might be joking, but she didn’t see any humor in his soft brown eyes. She shook her head. Another thing she didn’t need to know.

Is nothing real? Is there no one in my life who was what I thought they were?

Your mother, Jackson said quickly.

Again she snorted. Yes, the crazy lady who apparently wasn’t nearly as crazy as I always thought she was.

Yes.

Joey rolled her eyes. You’re not helping, Jackson.

Come here. He held out his hand to her. She took it, a little reluctantly, and let him pull her onto the bed beside him. He pushed her back against the mattress and he curled up against the pillows with his arms wrapped around her waist.

This might have been okay a few days ago, she said with a little bit of a tired giggle, but I don’t know about now. I mean, now that I know the truth about you and Ronan—

Be quiet, he hissed into her ear. Try to relax. You need to get some rest.

Joey giggled again, but she closed her eyes. Jackson ran his hand slowly over her arm and she instantly felt her eyelids grow heavy. And the muscles in her neck, her shoulders, began to lose their weightiness. Slowly this feeling of lightness moved down the length of her body until she felt as though she might float off the bed.

She felt herself fall into unconsciousness in that way a heavy sleeper is vaguely aware of reality slipping away. But instead of the lovely nothingness that often comes before dreams, she found herself in a quiet room sitting in a brightly upholstered chair. She couldn’t see much of the room, wasn’t even aware of the dimensions of it. It could have been a large room. It could have ended inches from her toes. It might even have been round rather than square, a room designed for novelty rather than practicality. She had no idea, but all these ideas passed through her mind as she sat there, trying to understand where she was and why.

And then he walked toward her, coming into the light from nowhere.

Sam.

Joey jumped out of the chair and threw her arms around him. She felt him hesitate, and then his arms slid around her as he pulled her tightly against his chest.

Are you okay? she asked, suddenly pulling back, her eyes moving to his side. You were bleeding—

I’m fine, he said. He touched her chin lightly, lifting her eyes to his. Are you okay?

She bit her lip, but she nodded. I don’t understand anything that’s going on. Dotty told me some things, but I still don’t understand why any of this is happening.

I know, he said. He ran his thumb slowly over her chin, allowing it to rest gently against her lower lip for a long second. Then he dropped his hand. I’ll be in Chicago in a few days and I’ll explain as much as I can.

Where are you?

Somewhere safe.

You feel so real, she whispered, moving closer to him. She touched his chest, running her fingers slowly over the front of his oxford shirt. He was always wearing an oxford shirt. It was white that day in her apartment, blue at the high school. Now it was a soft green that made his eyes seem even bluer in contrast. The material was rough against her skin, but she could feel the heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart. It made her own heart skip a beat as she felt the stutter of his breath as she took another step closer.

Joey, he whispered.

It’s just a dream, she responded as she pressed her lips gently against his.

He grabbed her upper arms roughly, painfully, as though he intended to push her away. Instead, he pulled her closer against him as he returned her kiss, urging her to open to him with the gentlest pressure of his tongue. Joey sighed against his mouth as she slid her hands around his waist, sliding them slowly up along the thick muscles that moved and flexed with every breath he took.

His hands moved to, pulled her so tight against him that she could feel every beat of his heart against her breasts, could feel his need as though he were right there with her, lying in that bed in the sad, temporary room in the bunker. One of his hands moved from her arm to her shoulder to her throat. He wrapped his fingers around her neck, the pulse of her heart rough against his thumb. And then his lips were there, tasting her skin as though it were the sweetest thing he had ever taken into his mouth.

She rolled her head back on her spine, gave him all the access he could ever desire. Her breath came in quick gasps, little puffs that were the tiniest sighs of need. Her head was spinning. She felt as though she were falling, as though she were floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. His hands were the only things that kept her on her feet, one sliding slowly up underneath the thin t-shirt she had been wearing for too long, the other slipping over the curve of her ass.

She gasped, a moan aching to slip from her lips. But then it became something else.

Pressure filled her chest, her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.

Sam. She gasped again, trying to draw in another, deeper breath. She couldn’t. Something was wrong.

What is it?

She shook her head. Something… she gasped, clawing at her throat. Can’t breathe.

Wake up, Joey, he said, slapping her cheek lightly. You have to wake up.

She shook her head. There was no breath moving through her throat now. Her chest felt as though a weight were lying over it. She could no longer feel her legs.

She was dying.

Joey! Sam cried as she fell.

She never hit the ground. She just kept falling and falling…

Chapter 4

Joey!

She opened her eyes, her hands still clawing at her throat. Jackson was leaning over her, his vampire teeth distorting his handsome face. He was wrestling with something, something Joey couldn’t see. Her body was numb, she couldn’t feel anything but a vague pressure in her chest. She was gasping, struggling to draw a breath, but still nothing would, or could, move through her frozen throat.

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks, knew Jackson was trying to help her, but her lungs were on fire. She knew it was too late.

The door blew open and two wolves, both with beautiful gray and black coats, burst into the room. It was funny, Joey thought, how clear their eyes were. She knew who they were, recognized something about their eyes, their snarling snouts. She wanted to thank them, to tell them how much she appreciated everything they had done for her and her mother. Wanted to tell Dotty one last time how much she loved her.

It made her heart break as all the things she would never be able to say again floated through her oxygen starved mind.

At least she had seen Sam one last time. Even if it was a dream.

She closed her eyes. It felt better to stop fighting. The fire in her chest seemed to subside a little. And then…it was like a great weight had been lifted off of her. She could hear the wolves growling and snipping, knew they were after something. Waves of sensation flowed over her, her arms tingling as though they had fallen asleep, her abdomen heavy as something pressed down against her. Her legs began to tingle, too, the pain almost excruciating. She cried out as she sat up, rubbing her hands hard over her legs.

Sorry, sorry, Jackson said from somewhere close. It’ll stop in a minute.

What the hell happened? Dotty’s voice suddenly filled the room. How did they get in here?

I don’t know, Jackson said, his hands still frantically moved over Joey. She could feel them now, on her arms, her legs, against her belly and chest.

Stop, she muttered, moving away from him.

Joey, let Jackson help you.

I’m fine.

She slid to the far side of the bed, drawing her legs up against her chest as she rocked herself, the pain slowly beginning to subside but still bad enough to make her wish for the numbness to return. She knew now what had happened, remembered the feeling of pressure and numbness.

Nephilim.

Yes, Jackson said. I’m sorry. I guess I fell asleep.

Vampires sleep? Joey asked, focusing on him where he sat on the other side of the bed.

He looked at her, the guilt in his eyes shifting slightly at the amusement he saw in her eyes. She reached over and touched his arm lightly. He caressed her hand before lifting it from his arm and kissing her fingers lightly. I’m sorry, he whispered so quietly against her skin that she felt the words more than heard them.

I still don’t understand how they got in here.

Valerie and Dotty stood side by side at the end of the bed, both back in their human forms but animalistic fury still snapping in their eyes. Joey watched them and found herself wondering how she could have not known what Dotty was. It