Fallen Angel of Mine Read Online Free

hellhounds nearly killed her and showed
up to help me carry Elyssa from an alley after gray men attacked us
in the Grotto. This couldn't be happening. Then again, only weeks
ago, I would have thought none of this possible. Hellhounds,
golems, vampires, demon spawn like me—all real.
    And this girl was every bit as adorable
as her cat form.
    Nightliss brushed long, dark hair from
her face and smiled. One of the hounds growled and advanced. She
turned and gave it a furious glare, more cute than scary,
considering she stood maybe five-feet tall. The hound whined and
retreated, circling back and forth as though uncertain what to do
next.
    "Hi," she said, and kissed me on the
nose.
    "Hi?" Though petite, Nightliss
possessed womanly curves, beckoning my eyes to stare. But a storm
of questions overwhelmed my teenage hormones and incubus instinct.
Who was this woman? Was she a felycan like Stacey?
"Who—"
    "Who are you to interfere in my
business?" said a cold, angry voice with a British-tinted, Russian
accent. The owner of the voice, a tall woman with flowing crimson
hair and matching eyes, pushed past one of the hounds and planted
herself in front of the diminutive woman.
    The girl responded in a strange melodic
language and the redheaded woman's eyes flared in either disbelief
or outright surprise.
    "Kassallandra," I said,
unable to stop staring at the succubus my father refused to marry.
She wore a slinky red dress hugging tight against her curves. A
pair of expensive-looking platform heels accented smooth, fair
calves, adding a bit more oomph to her curvy rear end. This woman was smoking hot
in more than one sense but looked completely out of place in the
woods.
    She planted both fists on her hips and
raised her glare to me. "I am Anae Kassallandra to you, Castratae.
You would do well to remember your place rather than sully me with
your words."
    "Ooh, I guess your poop doesn't stink,"
I said, unable to keep the petty retaliation off my tongue.
According to Elyssa, spawn adhered to a strict social caste system.
Since I was half-human and half-spawn, not to mention the son of an
outcast, that pretty much damned me to the lowest of the low, the
Castratae, whereas Kassallandra was almost as far up the chain as
spawn could go.
    Kassallandra ignored my response.
Looked back at Nightliss whose olive skin and dark hair seemed a
stark contrast to the snow-skinned woman with flaming red
hair.
    Kassallandra hurled what sounded like a
heated question in the strange tongue at Nightliss. The girl
responded, the melodic language flowing from her throat like
lilting music on the air. I found myself lulled to peace by her
voice and shook my head to clear the fog. The hounds seemed
mesmerized, their great yellow eyes growing unfocused, tongues
lolling as Nightliss spoke. The redhead threw several more
sentences in the foreign tongue at her opposite, though her accent
didn't have the same clarity.
    Whatever they were talking about didn't
seem to be going anywhere.
    "Can someone translate for me?" I
asked.
    They both looked at me. Turned back to
each other and kept on talking. I took a deep breath and, for the
first time since being thrown from the truck, a pleasant but
somewhat itchy tingle spread through my battered ribs. Apparently,
my wounds were healing. I traced my bones to make sure they hadn't
somehow reattached themselves all crooked, but aside from a little
mushiness, they felt normal. As the pain subsided, the toll from
the trauma settled into my body. My muscles felt like lead. I'd
need to feed soon, and what my demonic nature desired couldn't be
satisfied with a burger and a super-sized order of
fries.
    Nightliss shouted a single word at
Kassallandra and shook her head. Tears pooled in her huge eyes. An
almost sympathetic look crossed the redhead's face and she touched
the smaller woman's bare shoulder. Said something in a comforting
tone. Nightliss nodded slowly and looked at me, the tears trickling
down her cheeks.
    She walked over,