The Fall: Earth Angel, #6

By B.C. Burgess

In a fiery tale filled with villains and heroes, this installment of the Earth Angel series takes readers on a magical journey rich with emotion, intrigue, and danger. Fans of Twilight, The Red Queen, The Selection, and Harry Potterwill devour this breathless fantasy set in a modern mystical world.

Layla has fallen prey to the powerful stranger who once saved her life. Now he threatens to control her destiny, even if it destroys her.

Will she find the strength to survive in her darkest hour? And will a hero be there to catch her if she falls?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bandit Publishing
• Release date: May 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781946793041

Book preview

Chapter One

Quin halted and hovered, lifting his concealment spell as he spun around. His direction didn't feel right. Nearly an hour had passed since he heard her, and he'd flown by the spot she last called from more than thirty minutes ago. Shit. He'd lost her trail.

He looked for the others, who were quickly approaching now that he'd stopped.

What was he going to do? What on earth could he do? Any direction he flew could be the opposite direction he should be flying.

Kemble reached him first, quickly followed by Serafin and Cordelia, then Daleen, Caitrin and Morrigan. All of their bodies appeared at once.

What is it, Son? Kemble asked.

The direction feels wrong, Quin answered. We’re not going the right way.

What makes you think so? Serafin pressed. Have you heard her?

Not for about an hour. We passed the last place she called from around forty-five minutes ago.

Have you called to her? Caitrin asked.

Yes, Quin answered. I can’t reach her. What about you guys?

They sadly shook their heads no as Caitrin replied. We’ve tried, but we’re not getting through.

Quin roughly ran a hand down his face, fighting the terror clutching his throat. Any ideas?

I would say spread out, Serafin suggested, but it’s too dangerous. None of us can stop Finley on our own.

I’m willing to take the risk, Quin countered. If that’s the only way we’ll get to her, that’s what we’ll do.

Cordelia’s eyes widened as she floated closer. But she’s only calling to you. You’re the one with the best chance of pinpointing her position. If we spread out and you get a read on her, there won’t be a way for you to tell us.

Then I’ll go by myself.

That would be a suicide mission, Quinlan. That won’t save her.

It might give her a chance to escape.

To what end?

One of her own choosing, Quin snapped. Then he took a deep breath and looked away. What else am I supposed to do, Mom? Go home and wait on news that will never come? Just let him take her freedom and ruin her life? That’s not an option for me.

Cordelia squeezed his bicep. It’s not an option for us either. We’ll figure out another way. She looked at her husband, then the others. Won’t we?

Serafin bowed his head. There is no quick answer for this. Either we keep flying aimlessly and hope we get lucky, or we go home and use soothsayers and contacts to hunt her down.

No, Quin refused. I won’t sit at home while she’s at the mercy of that psychopath. Not happening.

I’m with Quin, Daleen asserted. If we go home, she’ll grow farther away.

We can’t cover the whole world on our own, Caitrin pointed out. We could waste valuable time chasing a lost trail.

Finley will have to stop eventually, Quin argued. Even if we’ve lost his trail, we’re not more than two hours behind him. We’ll cover the gap when he lands.

There aren’t enough of us, Kemble replied.

Then get the others, Quin insisted. Go get the rest of the family. How widespread are they?

They’re not, Caitrin answered. Shouldn’t be anyway. We told Brietta and Cat to gather them at the community to await further news.

A sliver of hope quivered Quin’s heart. Good. Go get everyone capable, Dad, and tell the others to clear the community. No one will be there to protect them if Agro shows up. Once you’ve gathered them, fly straight north for at least forty-five minutes, then start searching for our minds. That’s about where she called from last. I’m going back there, and I’m going to branch out in every direction until I pick up another trail. When I do, someone will stay there to tell you which way to go. He paused, trying to figure out if he needed to say anything else. He didn’t. Go, and please hurry.

Kemble gave Quin’s shoulder a squeeze then turned to Cordelia, taking her cheeks in both palms. See you soon, love.

Hurry, she whispered, laying her hands over his.

He obeyed, his body disappearing as he sped away, and Quin looked at the others. We need to work our way back to the last spot she called from. We can all mind-search up to ten miles, right?

Yes, they answered.

Then spread out, Quin instructed, with the fastest flyers on the outer edge. We can achieve a span of fifty miles while maintaining a line of communication. Constantly call to her, and if you get the feeling she’s close, let the rest of us know. He looked at his itchy palms and flexed his fingers, wishing he could do more, faster. Let’s go.

He didn’t wait for their replies before concealing his body and soaring south, back to the last place his angel had been when she was still able to find his mind.

Chapter Two

The next time Layla came to, she was immediately alert and extremely sore. She could feel every inch of her body, every burning bone and cramped muscle, and every vital motion her system made in an attempt to keep her alive. The painful tic of her heart fluttered smarting skin and thundered in her head; and her blood scraped through tender veins like gravel. Yes, she felt every agonizing inch, but she doubted she’d be able to move any of it. She didn't try. She stayed motionless, hoping her aura wasn't giving her away.

She’d tried physical strength and it had gotten her nowhere. She’d tried defiance and it had gotten her punished. Time to move on.

Her magic wouldn’t compare to his, but he couldn’t read her thoughts or see her body, so as long as her aura wasn’t drawing his attention, she might have the element of surprise on her side.

Her sense of touch told her they were still flying, and she wondered if she’d be able to stay in the air if she managed to get away from him. Flying involved both mental and physical strength, and she severely lacked the latter. Oh well. Falling to her death was a risk she was willing to take.

First thing’s first, she needed to make sure he still had her mind blocked. The bastard could be listening to everything she was thinking, wickedly laughing in his head as he considered ways to punish her.

She tested the skull shield, pushing the call out hard, because if her mind wasn’t blocked, she refused to waste the opportunity by sending a halfhearted message. 'Quin!' The name reverberated in her head, bouncing off her throbbing brain, but she stayed stationary and silent.

Finley hadn’t said anything or changed the pressure he held her with, so if she wanted the element of surprise, now was the time to take it. She needed ammunition, so she turned her mind to unpleasant memories. She remembered all the disrespectful things Finley said to Quin. She remembered his arrogant speech explaining why people should fall at his feet. She remembered the way he’d talked in front of Alana, and the way the child had cringed away from him. Then she remembered her nightmare and the trouble it had caused Quin. She didn’t have to remember the physical pain or the mental and emotional anguish, because she was living them.

The masochistic exercise worked. She was locked and loaded like never before, and while the raging fire didn’t hurt her, it was sure to burn the hell out of him.

She couldn’t brace herself or breathe deep. That would ruin the entire thing, so she stayed inert, mentally steeling herself for the silent countdown.

One . . .

She directed the flames toward exposed skin.

Two . . .

She slowly filled her lungs.

Three!

The inferno rolled from her body, charring everything in its path, and Finley roared as the smell of burning flesh and hair invaded her senses. Her stomach lurched. Then she was falling, appearing in mid-air as a scream rippled from her mind and lips.

Quin!

She flipped and found the ground, but agony and terror had her in their clutches and she couldn’t stop her plummeting body. She tried to push herself forward, but the resistance felt like thick mud and gravity outraced her magic.

Her world grew greener as the earth grew nearer. Oh god. She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to watch.

'I love you, Quin,' she sadly projected, clearly seeing his face.

Something hooked her waist, knocking the air from her lungs as she doubled over, and pain coursed through vibrating bones as she threw out her hands, bracing for another hit. She imagined herself bouncing from limb to limb of a tree before falling to her death. The image actually flashed through her mind like a reel of a movie – rough bark tossing her about as sharp twigs ripped chunks of hair from her head. But this wasn’t a movie, and reality was much worse.

Still hooked by the waist, something curled into the hair at the base of her skull and yanked. Oh shit. She hadn’t hit a tree limb. Finley had caught her.

She screamed, drowning in pain and rage as she opened her eyes. They were rising again.

The fingers in her hair tightened and jerked, pulling her ear to his lips. Big mistake, Layla. Do you have a death wish?

Yes, she cried, and he shook her head.

Well I don’t.

Her insides broiled with licking flames, and she screamed until her lips were magically sealed. The shriek gurgled in her mouth as the fire dissipated, then ice took its place, pressing on her bones and slowing her blood flow.

The quick shift from hot to cold was way worse than one or the other, and somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered where he’d learned his torture methods. The ice switched back to flames, and she shuddered, going limp and useless yet again.

Chapter Three

Quin made it back to Layla’s last known location without any news from the others. Having no other plan of action to follow, he flew east, veering slightly south with the intention of covering a hundred miles then working his way north. It didn’t make sense for Finley to head for the ocean or back toward Oregon, but there was a wealth of land in the north Cascade Mountains to hide in.

The longer Quin flew, the more lost he felt, but finally, blessedly, he heard her. Just his name. She’d screamed it, and the terror in her voice froze his lungs. Her second call was heartfelt and resigned to doom. 'I love you, Quin.'

His throat tightened as his stomach flipped, and for the first time since he was a child, his flight skills wavered, nearly dropping him out of the sky.

He steadied himself and mentally called her name. Nothing.

He couldn’t deny the fear – the gut-wrenching possibility he’d heard her take her final breath and project her final thought, but he refused to accept defeat. 'Hold on, Layla. I'll find you.'

He hopefully waited for a reply, but didn’t get one, so he searched for his family's minds and found Serafin's. 'I heard her. She's east, toward Mount Rainier. I'm not waiting. I can't. Get a message to the others then follow. If I hear her again and need to change my path, I'll mind-search you to let you know, but if I don't find you quickly, I'll go without you.'

'I'll do my best to keep up,' Serafin agreed.

Quin didn’t respond. He was already speeding toward his angel, desperate to prove she continued to breathe.

Quin reached the northeast border of Mount Rainier National Park two hours before sundown. The entire time he’d flown over the thick mass of overgrown trees and around mountainous ridges, he’d searched for Layla’s presence, for clues to where she’d been and where she’d gone, but he hadn’t found a trace of evidence.

He halted and hovered, fighting the depression threatening to engulf him. She’d been gone for more than three hours – three heart-wrenching and suffocating hours. He hadn’t heard her voice since her heartfelt show of devotion entered his head like a final farewell, and he was traveling on guesswork, which could take him in the opposite direction he should be going.

He closed his eyes and visualized the local terrain, pinpointing possible locations Finley would choose to rest or heal. Layla would fight, and Quin had no doubt she’d inflict damage.

The bile he’d been battling all day rose up and licked his throat. He hated thinking about what might happen to her if she fought back.

He opened his eyes with determination. Where to go next? Pick an option and go with it.

If Finley stopped to heal, he’d want the cover of both mountains and trees. Convenient since the Cascade Mountain Range stretched out before him. He could follow the range straight into Canada.

Quin’s heart skipped as his stomach swished – a gut feeling if ever he’d had one. Following the Cascade Range into Canada was exactly what Finley planned to do.

Quin searched for Serafin’s mind for several impatient minutes before finding it. 'I'm heading north, up through Wenatchee and Okanogan National Forests. Go get the others and do the same.'

'Have you heard her again?'

'No, but unless you have a better plan, I'm going to scour the Cascades. It makes sense for Finley to follow the range, and he'll have to land eventually.'

'I'll let the others know,' Serafin agreed. 'If you find her before we get there, you need to hang tight and keep an eye on the situation from a distance. Don't go in there by yourself.'

'I can't make that promise, Serafin.'

'If you go in there and fail, he'll take her and flee. Then it would be damn near impossible for us to find her again, especially without your help.'

'No promises,’ Quin refused, ‘so hurry. I'm going.' And he did, soaring north while hoping for a miracle.

Chapter Four

The next time Layla opened her eyes, it was sunset and she was lying on her side on soft vegetation. Her muscles felt like flaming liquid, a cold breeze stung her skin, and she was tightly bound by . . .  something. She swiveled her eyeballs, finding one half of what seemed to be an empty clearing bordered by fir trees.

She looked down, trying to see what had her tied together, but she and the bindings were invisible. She attempted to lift her head, but only got it an inch from the ground before dropping it to the grass with a pained moan.

Damn, she was sore, and it only got worse when Finley’s voice made her jolt.

Guess you’re awake.

He was behind her, toward her feet.

You really pissed me off, Layla. I’ve been annoyed with you, impatient with you, and upset with you, but until you burned the shit out of me, I hadn’t been pissed at you. It would be wise of you to never try something like that again. I have a far worse punishment in mind, and it’s not your death, so inciting retribution won’t ease your suffering. It will only make it worse.

She took several quick breaths to pump herself up. Then she shoved her shoulder backward and rotated her heavy body. She managed the turn, but paid dearly for it.

She cringed and turned her face into the weeds, quietly sobbing as her lips vibrated against cool vegetation. She inhaled through her nose, drawing strength from Mother Nature’s peacefulness. Then she raised her head and blinked away moisture. All she found were trees and underbrush and more trees. Then a shimmer caught her eye, and she looked down, beyond her invisible feet.

You found me, he revealed.

She figured her voice would be pitiful, so she tried to put some oomph into it. Why are you doing this, Finley? Yes, it was pitiful.

Why are you not, Layla?

Emotion overpowered strength, and more tears flooded her lids. I don’t understand.

No, you don’t get it, which means you’re not as rational as you should be. Rationality is a necessary trait. You need to learn it.

Quit beating around the bush . . . and insulting me . . . and just tell me what you mean . . . Why are you doing this? Her diaphragm struggled to get the words out. Twenty words felt like twenty thousand.

Because it’s meant to be, Finley answered. Because it’s what we deserve. You’ll reap as many rewards from this union as I will.

It doesn’t work that way . . . It will never work that way for me.

It will. Once you learn to relax. You and I are unlike anyone, and we should have the things we want, but our entire lives we’ve had things taken away from us. It’s time to stop putting up with the bullshit, take what we want, and never let go.

You are so blind, she shrieked, but it was little more than a squeak. You’re taking my life. Out of everything that’s been taken away from me, you’re taking the most. You’re a hypocrite. She braced for the torture, but it didn’t come.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, he replied, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Hurting you like this wasn’t my original plan, but you made it so. If you would have given me even the smallest