The Fallen Angel
The Fallen Angel
Amber Douglas
Published by Amber Douglas
Copyright 2013 Amber Douglas
Other books by this author:
Andromeda’s Harmony*
Blood Moon
Blood in the Water
Dark Sky
Dracula’s Revenge
Demon Scion: Book 2 of Dracula’s Revenge series
The Fallen Angel
The Fallen Angel: Retribution
The Fallen Angel: Repentance
The Demon Chronicles Book 1: Demon Soul
The Demon Chronicles Book 2: Demon Blood
The Demon Chronicles Book 3: Demon Line (2016)
Mermaid’s Song*
Murder in Room 220
The Outlander
A Pie for Papa
The Protector
Red Moon
Ren*
REN and Other Tales of Fantasy
The Shepherd’s Flock
The Watcher
When the Light Cometh
White Demon
* available as single ebooks
Chapter 1
Los Angeles, California. The city best known by locals as the one straddling the San Andreas Fault. Early in the morning, near the beach, the fog that settled in during the night lifts. The alleys of Los Angeles are frequented with the homeless, the gangs, and anyone else who wanted to be there.
The night was quiet, except for the occasional police siren going off, usually following some idiot speeder, or murderer, or kidnapper. That is, until a few hours after midnight, a small ball of fire crashed into the pavement of an alleyway.
“Hey buddy? Hey, y’all right?”
The naked man lying on the ground opened his eyes. His vision took a while to adjust, and he saw a homeless man kneeling down in front of him, holding a beer bottle. His first sensation was pain. It was everywhere in his body. Even lying there in a fetal position was painful.
“Listen, buddy, I know someone who can take you to the hospital. I know where his place is.”
The man lying on the ground tried to sit up, and cried out in the pain. Spots danced in his sight, then faded. The homeless man wrapped one of his coats over the naked one.
“Where am I? What is this place?”
“This is one of the many back alleyways of Los Angeles, California, in the good ol’ U.S. of A.”
The homeless man helped him walk. It was painful, slow going. They reached some stairs and the man sat down, relieved. The homeless man straightened up, and knocked on the door. As the door opened, and the homeless man was busy talking, the man on the steps tried to remember everything that happened before.
He had fallen from a great height, but where? Why was he here? What was his name?
“Thanks, Dan.” The homeless man finished, he turned to his charge. “Well, me boy, Father Dan says he’ll take you. He’ll take good care of you.”
“Thank you.” The man answered. He licked his lips. “I can’t remember my name.”
The homeless man frowned. “That right? Can’t remember nothing?”
The other nodded. “I can’t. I-I can’t remember…how I got here.” Sighing, the homeless man helped him up and brought him into the house.
Father Dan was a priest who ministered to the homeless, caring for them and helping out whenever he could. He had a few assistants who ran the soup kitchens, and at oftentimes, took in someone in need under their wing.
Pushing open the door, he helped Tony, the homeless man, bring in his charge. The priest smiled in a fatherly fashion at the stranger, clad in nothing but a blanket draped around him. Once inside, the priest got out a medical kit complete with stethoscope, as he studied medicine first before becoming a priest, and checked out the naked man.
“You have no memory of who you are or where you are?” Father Dan asked him.
His patient shook his head. “I can’t remember my name.”
Father Dan frowned in concern. “Surely, someone would be looking for you, I imagine.” The priest absently glanced behind him at the door, almost expecting someone to come in and claim the stranger.
Tony piped up. “Found this poor bloke in the alleyway. Smoking, he was.”
Father Dan sharply looked up as his patient looked up. “What do you mean by that?”
Tony took a swig of his bottle. “I mean there was smoke literally coming off him. And there was a crater the size of a house that he was lying in.”
Father Dan was through checking his patient with the standard procedures. Next, he asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. And thirsty.” The voice of his patient was raspy, and he coughed.
Father Dan nodded. “Tony, stay with him.”
While he was gone, Tony studied his charge. Young, blond hair, blue eyes, almost angelic. Tony put down his beer bottle, and dug a cigarette pack from one of his packets. The young man watched him with interest.
“What are those?”
Tony put one in his mouth. “These are cigarettes, bud. Bad for your health, they are.” He headed off the next question. “And yes, I’m addicted to them. Can’t go without them.”
As he flipped open his lighter, the flame seemed to grow brighter. The young man had a flash of what happened. Clouds, an intoning voice, a ball of fire, and his name being called. Before he knew it, he said it aloud.
“That your name, bud? Matthew?”
The man nodded. “Yes. That’s my name. Matthew. I remember it now.”
Tony blew some smoke up in the air, watching it waft before him. “Got to remember the rest, you know.”
Matt looked up at him. “How? How can I remember what I had forgotten?”
Tony leaned forward, taking the cigarette from his mouth. “This brought your name, didn’t it?” He motioned the cigarette around.
There were footsteps approaching, and Father Dan reappeared, carrying a tray filled with steaming hot pot roast, macaroni and cheese, and green beans, with a big, hot, cup of coffee. The smell made Matt’s stomach rumble. Tony chuckled.
“Father, he remembered his name. Matt, it is.”
Father Dan looked up and smiled. “Excellent. That’s one big step out of many.” He turned to Tony. “Please take the cigarette outside, Tony.”
“Sure thing, Father.”
After the homeless man left, Father Dan glanced back. “He’s a good man. Not like some to whom I’ve ministered. There were many who rather kill you for what you have than trade for it.”
“Trade?”
“Yes. That is their system here. If they see something that they want, they trade for it. Whatever they have. Money is not easily replaced. But with luck, we can find you someplace to stay and remember.”
Matt found himself smiling, despite his predicament. “Got to remember the rest, right?” he asked, echoing Tony’s words.
Father Dan sat down, allowing Matt to start on the feast while he talked.
“The mind is unusually complex. Especially the memory department. There have been many supposed reasons why the memory chooses to return certain memories and not others. For example, your name. Your mind chose to remember that fact first, nothing else.”
Matt swallowed. “I didn’t remember anything else.”
Father Dan nodded in reassurance. “You will, Matt. Don’t worry. All in good time. Right now, you need sustenance and shelter.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 2
The next morning, Matt awoke to a pair of eyes staring into his. Startled, he bolted upright. The eyes belonged to a small child, perhaps six. She was watching him intently. He had the urge to call out, but he was saved by a sharp call.
“Rosie!”
The child answered. “Coming, Mom!” As she raced out the door, Matt pushed back the covers. She must either belong to Father Dan, or else be his grandchild. After he put on his pants, he looked for a shirt, and found a woman holding it. He was suddenly caught by her green eyes. Unable to speak, she filled the silence instead.
“I told Rosie not to disturb you. I’m sorry.”
Matt found his voice. “It’s alright. I didn’t mind it.” Still holding her gaze, he took the shirt from her, noting how their hands touched. Breaking the gaze so he could check himself in the mirror, he voiced his curiosity.
“How old is she?”
“Six. Father Dan is her grandfather, my father-in-law. We’re here visiting.”
“Your husband here also?”
When there was no response, he looked at her. She was staring at the floor, her mouth set in a line, her jaw tight.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
She cut him off. “No, it’s okay. I’m just trying to get over the divorce, that’s all.” When he was finished in the mirror, he walked so he stood in front of her. She studied him, noting the sympathy in his blue eyes. He lifted a finger so it brushed her cheek. He wanted to put his arms around her, wanted to smell her vanilla shampoo.
He restrained himself, still unsure of what to do. Matt felt strange, protective. The bliss was interrupted when he heard Rosie’s voice yelling for her mother. They walked out to the kitchen where Rosie ran up to her mom, who scooped her up. Father Dan was busy putting breakfast on the table. He noticed Matt near the coffeepot.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Great. I don’t hurt that much anymore.”
Father Dan smiled. “That is indeed good. A good night’s rest would take care of any aches and pains.”
“Momma, can I show you something?”
“Sure, honey.” Rosei wriggled out of her mother’s arms and once down, she raced away with the energy of a child. The woman followed her at slower pace.
Father Dan finished putting the meal on the table. He motioned for Matt to take a seat. Rosie had dragged her mother off somewhere, so the priest called, “Joanne! Rosie! Breakfast!”
Matt heard laughter drifting from the living room. Rosie raced in, her mother a close second. Her mother’s auburn hair flew behind her as they had raced into the kitchen. Father Dan sat down beside Matt, while they watched her fix up her daughter’s breakfast on Rosie’s table.
Dan leaned close to Matt. “Some woman, isn’t she?”
Without taking his eyes off Joanne, Matt replied with a question. “How did she get so sad?”
Father Dan helped himself to some eggs. “It was because of her husband. We had prayed that the marriage would be a good one, that she would be happy…unfortunately.”
Matt frowned and looked at the old priest. “Why unfortunately?”
The father swallowed the bite he was chewing. “Nothing is forever. Even marital bliss lasts only as long as a year, it they made it that far.”
Matt was pondering what Father Dan had said. A hand on his shoulder startled him. Joanne was there, holding a coffeepot in the other. “More coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She filled his cup, returned the pot to its place, then sat down at the table.
“Dad, would you mind if you came to court with me?”
“Not at all.”
After s brief moment of silence, Joanne asked him what his name was.
“Matt.”
“Are you homeless?”
“I can’t remember.”
Father Dan interjected. “He’s lost his memory. Completely.” Joanne acknowledged it.
“Maybe you’ll remember more if I showed you around?”
Matt was confused. “Around where?”
“Around L.A. Since you don’t have anything else to do, maybe a walk would do you good.”
“Excellent idea.” Father Dan interjected. Matt stole a glance at Father Dan who was busy with his hash browns. He had a sneaking suspicion that Father Dan was trying to be more than charitable.
#
Matt volunteered to wait outside the courthouse, saying he would be okay, and that he didn’t want to interrupt or become a distraction. Rosie wanted to stay outside with the newcomer, and after her mother agreed, it was settled. Sitting down on the steps, they waited.
“Do you what they‘re doing in there?” Rosie asked.
Matt shook his head. “I have no idea, Rosie. Your mother has some important issues she needs to settle.”
“Hmm.”
The silence was long. Birds chirped and squawked in the morning stillness. The laughter of children could be seen and heard. All Matt could remember right now was his name. It frustrated him that he couldn’t remember anything else.
He heard Rosie sniffle beside him. “What’s wrong?”
Rosie wiped her nose with a tissue. “It’s Mom and Dad. They’ve always fought, and it’s been terrible. But they’ve been good to me, so why can’t they be good to each other?”
Matt thought about it. They were good parents, but not good spouses. Not resolving issues before marriage could create horrendous situations like the one Rosie was in now. Trying to deal with parents separating, ugly child custody battles, and the parental tensions. It was simply too much for a little child to deal with.
“Matt?”
Coming out of it, he turned to her. “Yes?”
Hugging her teddy bear, she asked him, “If anything bad happened between Mommy and Daddy, could you take care of me?”
Matt wrapped his arms around her. The child was desperate to trust, desperate to find someone who could love her. He put aside his own problems and hugged her, rocking her back and forth. Watching an argument take place in the park across from the courthouse, his thoughts drifted to another voice…angry…flashing lightning….
Before he knew it, he drifted into another memory.
“How dare you, Matthew!” the deep voice intoned.
“How dare I?” Matthew replied, angrily. “Lucifer was right. You have grown weak! When we take control, I will be Morning Light’s right hand angel.”
“You devil.” The voice growled.
“I’m not afraid of you, old Lord. Lucifer will soon be the new lord.”
The shout of rage was drowned out by another voice calling him to the present….
Joanne and Father Dan walked out of the door, Joanne fuming. Her father was trying to calm her down, to no avail. She was letting go strings of swearing words that Matt found he was putting his hands over Rosie’s ears. He couldn’t believe a woman so beautiful could be so colorful in her language.
“Come, Matthew, Rosie.” Father Dan urged quietly.
Her green eyes were a fiery green and she was breathing heavily. Rosie looked up at Matt. “She’s really angry now.”
Angry was an understatement. Calming down, she turned to Matt. “Let’s go.” Grabbing Rosie’s hand, she walked at a fast pace, the rest trying to keep up.
“Momma?”
Matt heard her say “Yes?” in a clipped tone. Evidently the custody hearing didn’t go as smooth as she wanted it to.
“Could I have some ice cream?”
The fire somewhat tempered, she smiled. “Of course, sweetie.” Glancing back at the courthouse, it rose in her eyes again.
Chapter 3
Sitting down with their ice cream, Matt sat next to Joanne, who was taking small bites, and not putting her spoon back until she licked it clean. The peculiar habit was fascinating to Matt. Curiosity got the better of him.
“What happened in there?”
She stopped licking her spoon, and gently put it back in her ice cream. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she started. “My ex-husband wanted visitation rights to see Rosie. I told them as sole guardian of Rosie, absolutely not. What I didn’t know was that he had struck a deal with the judge.”
“That was?”
The deal was that if he improved his behavior, he could see her.”
> Matt nodded. “I take it you were furious at that.”
She glanced sharply at him, the fire returning to her green eyes, as well as her temper was welling up.
“Furious? Furious?!” she exclaimed, half-rising out of her chair. “If you knew what he did to my daughter, furious is an understatement!”
As she was stabbing her ice cream, she asked, “Can’t you even remember if you have any kids?”
Matt was silent. The memory of earlier led him to believe he was Lucifer’s right hand angel. On Earth, Lucifer was known as Satan. The Devil. Anti-Christ. Ruler of Hell.
He noticed her talking quietly to her father, then they all started getting up. Matt followed suit, unknowing what was happening. Joanne threw her cup away, then motioned for Matt to follow her. Obediently he did, wondering why. Stopping a few yards away, she sat down on a bench, Matt beside her. Matthew saw Rosie and Father Dan walking a few paces away, the priest talking quietly to the child.
“I swear to God, that judge needs out. He needs to be stripped of his title.”
Matt took her hands in his. “God loves you.”
“Why?” Her question was full of meanings and hidden questions. “Does he love you as well?”
Matt dropped her hands. The memory stirred something inside. Was he really trying to take over heaven? The voice he heard was most certainly the voice of God; of that, he was sure.
“No. I was banished here.”
Her green eyes searched his blue ones. “Banished?”
“From heaven. There was a movement in heaven. Some of us tried to convince God that Lucifer-you know him as Satan-would be better leading heaven. I claimed to be Lucifer’s right hand man.”
Her face had gone pale at this revelation. Her breathing came in shallow and quick. When she spoke, it was cold, icy. No longer warm.
“What else do you remember?”
“Not much. I remember falling to Earth, stripped of my wings. I remember trying to take over heaven. I’m not an angel or a devil. I’m mortal.”
“Mortal?” Joanne breathed the word.
“Yes. I can die here.”
“Do you have powers?” She sat back down on the bench.
He shook his head. “Once stripped of wings, an angel is powerless.”
“Dare I ask your age?”
“Human or angelic?”
“Angelic.”
“Since time began. Since the universe was created. Since…well, since time began, pretty much.”