Sorry for the delay in getting out this latest chapter. Life has been busy, and writer's block can be a catty bitch sometimes. I hope you enjoy chapter four!
The usual disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters involved in erotic scenes are over 18, even when not explicitly stated.
* * * * * *
THE FALLEN
CHAPTER 4: MYSTERY
"Seraphinus is the first of the heavenly rank of Cherubim to escape the Abyss. The tear is becoming larger."
I recall my father's words from earlier today as I stare out the window of his big, black Cadillac Escalade. I haven't gotten a complete explanation about that statement, so the full implications of it still elude me. I would think more powerful Eternals appearing on Earth would be a good thing, but who knows? Maybe the old codgers in charge are getting nervous in their ivory towers over this news. Between all that's happened last night and today, I've found my head is spinning too much to think about it.
Dad is driving with Chiaki riding shotgun, myself and Danni seated in the middle row, and my brother Chris all back-of-the-bus in the third row. We're navigating through the city's business district. It's a late Sunday afternoon, and traffic is pretty heavy.
It's still hard to come to grips with calling Thomas "father" or "dad". Up until this morning he was just a friend and classmate, a young man I thought was my own age. Hah...a young man. If what Chiaki said is accurate then he's over 120 years old.
One thing I'm aware of now, though. The name Thomas Devore is a fake. I know his real name from the intermittent letters he'd send as I was growing up. They were always signed "Ash Nightlock". For some reason his masquerade as a Bay Ridge Academy student seems important to him, so in public he'll still have to be Thomas.
After my recent awakening, I've found myself part of a much larger world. It's one I'm about to be thrown into head first. I'm not totally sure why, but we're on our way to meet the territory Overseer, a woman named Harmony Grace.
I'd insisted on a shower first, and my father insisted I dress in something nice. Luckily, Danni and I went clothes shopping yesterday, and I have something nice to wear. All five of us are decked out in suits or dresses, shiny shoes or high heels. I swear it looks more like we're heading out for a night of clubbing than anything else.
I suppose father thought Chiaki and I might make a poor impression on Ms. Grace if we showed up in our grungy, sweaty running outfits. He's probably right, but it's still funny it was a
guy
who insisted we get all fancied up for this little meet-n-greet...or whatever it is. Left to my own devices I probably would've just thrown on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt and slapped my hair into a quick pony.
Now I have to walk everywhere in these high heels and hope I don't stumble around like a total dweeb. I am
so
not used to walking in them. I thought I'd get more practice before I had to wear them out on the town. Danni acts quite at home in hers, as if she's used to this high-society stuff.
Considering the way she threw money around while we were shopping yesterday, I'm guessing Danni comes from a wealthy family and actually
is
from high society. Not that something like scads of money is important to me, but I'm sure Danni will tell me about her family when she's ready.
During our slow drive through the city, we all listen to father give Danni the same lessons he'd given me about Eternal culture and government. In spite of all the clichés about blonds, Danni is a sharp cookie and understands just fine.
After my father wraps up, I ask, "Okay, so why are we going to meet this Overseer?"
He explains, "When I asked for permission to form our original Covey I was granted a limit of five members, but no suitable candidates ever presented themselves...until now."
Danni questions, "But if she already gave you permission why do we have to go see this Ms. Grace?"
Dad tells her, "She granted a limit of five with the condition she approved my other two choices."
No one asks the obvious question, though I see it written on Danni's face when I look over at her. What if Harmony Grace says no? I take Danni's hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. No matter what, Danni and I will be together...even if the Overseer forces us to leave Bay Ridge Academy.
We can always live in the city or the small town in between and commute to classes. I have a sneaking suspicion Chiaki's father, Ken'ichi, would put us up until Danni and I could get settled in elsewhere.
At our lack of response my father assures us, "Don't worry. Harmony is a reasonable woman. I don't foresee any problems. This is mostly just a formality and a matter of protocol."
Silence descends on the Escalade again, and Chiaki reaches out to turn on the radio. Her fingers hunt through stations, and I remember there was something I wanted to check. I reach down, open my purse, and get out my phone.
Opening a web browser, I search for any shops in the city named "The Third Eye". It takes a bit of hunting to find what I'm looking for. When I see it's location, though, I'm a bit surprised. I realize the magic shop is nowhere near the warehouse district where my "time-warp-erased" experiences took place.
Strange.
No stranger than being transported back in time to alter a seemingly insignificant decision. A decision I changed that basically brought a girl back from the dead and erased a horrible and frightening night. I should see if we can make a quick side stop after our meeting with Ms. Grace, but I'll have to think of a way to deflect any questions.
Nothing comes to mind. On second thought, maybe I should just go there on my own.
Or...maybe I should let sleeping dogs lie and simply be grateful Emma and Graves did what they did. I probably would if I didn't have a nagging suspicion there were ulterior motives involved. I'd rather find out what those motives are. I don't relish the idea of playing an unknown part in the plans of two people powerful enough to bend space and time to their whims.
I've also been itching all day to ask about Trina, the other lupines, and this "accord" we supposedly have with them, but then I'd have to explain how I even know about any of that. No one has uttered a peep in that regard, and I don't feel ready to reveal the circumstances of how I'd come by the knowledge.
My life has come to feel like I've been handed a scant few puzzle pieces and asked to guess what it's supposed to look like when completed. I suppose I'll just have to roll with the punches for now until I can start throwing some of my own.
But...it would seem we're here. My father is pulling into a large parking garage situated next to a towering skyscraper.
Must be time to put on my game face.
* * * * * *
We're checked thoroughly by lobby security, the two armed, bruiser-types wanding us, sending us through metal detectors, and x-raying we ladies' purses. Despite the intimidating size of the men, they're incredibly professional, polite, and friendly with all their pleases and thank-yous.
Once that's done we're allowed to enter one of the six elevators arrayed behind the security desk. As I step inside I notice there's no buttons beyond the emergency ones required for safety and a single button labeled "lobby". Apparently, wherever we're heading allows for no unauthorized stops.
My twin brother sees the direction of my gaze and says, "This is Harmony's private elevator. It goes all the way up to her penthouse suite."
I raise an eyebrow at how Chris talks like he's on a first-name basis with the Overseer.
"Oh," I mutter as the doors close. "One way ticket, eh?"
Chris grins and scratches his head when he answers, "Naw. It can actually stop anywhere. It's controlled from a panel in Harmony's suite, and there's also an emergency recall at the security desk."
There's a quiet hum, and I can feel a mild lurch in my stomach as the elevator starts moving.
"So what's that?" I ask, pointing to a small slot beneath the few buttons.
"Card reader," my father explains. "It opens a panel with more buttons so Ms. Grace can use the elevator as she sees fit."
"Pretty slick," I admit.
Numbers on the readout showing our current floor are whizzing by at a pretty good clip. They start to slow when they pass forty, and my body feels lighter for a moment as the steel box bleeds off it's inertia. The readout stops at "50", and there is a ding before the door opens.
The five of us exit the elevator into an impressive space, a pair of steps descending into a wide open living room. There's maybe a dozen pieces of artwork on the walls. A few pedestals in one corner hold some unusual sculptures. Centered and mounted to another wall is a huge flat screen TV, it's surface dark. Directly below this is a gas fireplace with some pretty realistic-looking fake logs glowing a cherry red. Flickering flames lick upward randomly from them. Much of the center of the room is taken up by a rectangular configuration of couches and chairs that face each other inwardly, their frames covered by a mahogany hued leather. A large, fancy coffee table of equally dark wood sits in the middle.
My attention, however, is riveted to the three huge windows that take up the opposite, outer wall. I've never been this high in a building, and even from across the room the vista from 500 feet up is breathtaking. I can see the far away mountains along the horizon, a large jet climbing lazily in the distance from the easily visible airport. I've been through that airport so I know how big it really is, but it looks so
tiny
from here.
Oh, and the smog. It hangs in the air like a dirty blanket.
"Quite the view, isn't it?" a woman's voice calls from the middle of the room.
My eyes are drawn to the source of the sound. I'm mildly startled because I could swear there was no one sitting in that leather chair a moment ago. This must be our Overseer, Harmony Grace. Going by appearance she looks little more than 25-ish. With what my father told me about her position, she's likely
at least
200 years old. If not older.
The beauty of her light brown face is what I'd call eloquent, her chocolate-colored skin flawless and silky-smooth. She possesses thin, elfin features that taper downward to a triangular jaw. Her liquid hazel eyes are dark and earthy, and her red-painted lips are full and pouty. They part slightly and pull upward with the barest hint of a smile. She has her brunette hair pulled back into a tight bun, two thin strands of her wavy bangs hanging down each side of her face.
Harmony is wearing white, boot-cut slacks and a matching two-button jacket, with a pastel yellow guayabera shirt beneath. She has one leg crossed over her knee, and I can see black, four-inch high heels on her feet.
"Ah, there you are, Ms. Grace," father says in a pleasant, friendly voice. "Good afternoon."
The exquisitely beautiful woman laughs lightly, the sound reminding me of a wind chime as it jingles and rings in the breeze.
