The Fallen 4 Read Online Free Page A

part of ‘everyone needs a rest’ didn’t you understand?” she asked sternly.
    “I got it, but I thought you were just saying that to get Aaron to lie down for a while,” Cameron explained. “We’re fine,” he said, looking at Melissa, who nodded in agreement. “We can handle a few more situations before we crash.”
    “And I said no,” Vilma said with even more forcefulness.
    Anger suddenly showed upon Cameron’s face. “We can’t just do nothing,” the younger Nephilim said. “There are people dying all over the world in ways too horrible to even think about,” he said, gesturing to the television screen that was reporting on some other bizarre and potentially fatal incident.
    “We can do nothing,” she said, snatching up the remote from one of the chairs and turning off the broadcast. “We have to do nothing,” she stressed. “For a little while. Just until we’ve recharged.”
    “But people are dying,” Melissa argued.
    “Don’t you think I know that?” Vilma snapped. “But I also know that we’ve been going nonstop, traveling all over the world, dealing with one emerging threat after another, saving lives, but we’re killing ourselves.”
    Cameron was about to argue, but Vilma silenced him with a stare.
    “As far as we know we’re the only ones of our kind capable of dealing with these threats. And the last time I checked, there weren’t all that many of us left.”
    “But we have to do something,” Cameron insisted.
    “And we are,” Vilma answered him. “By resting we keep ourselves fresh and on the ball. We’ll be less likely to make mistakes—and more likely to survive our battles.”
    Vilma paused, the realization of what she was about to say taking quite a bit from her.
    “We can’t save everybody,” she said quietly. “And we’re going to be able to help even fewer people if we go out there running on fumes.”
    She looked over at Kraus, who was trying to slip out of the room unnoticed.
    “Back me up, Kraus?” she asked.
    The healer of angels stopped, and slowly turned. “You’re completely right, Miss Santiago,” he said. “One’s level of performance diminishes greatly while fighting the effects of mental and physical fatigue.”
    Vilma looked back to Cameron and Melissa. “So that’s just how it’s going to be.”
    “How long?” Cameron asked, his shoulders slumping, his wings sliding into his back.
    “Go back to your rooms,” Vilma said. “Rest… nap, dowhatever you need to do to recharge your batteries. We’ll talk again in a couple ’a hours.”
    She could see that the Nephilim weren’t happy, turning away in a huff to retreat to their rooms.
    “Don’t test me on this, guys,” she warned, just in case they were thinking of going off against her wishes. “You wouldn’t care for the repercussions.”
    The threat sounded good, even though she had no idea what the punishment would be. Maybe she’d make them hang out with Verchiel for an afternoon—and she wouldn’t wish that on a goblin or rabid grackleflint.
    Verchiel, she thought as she watched the two Nephilim leave the television room. He was the former leader of the Powers, the angelic host whose sole purpose had been to hunt down and slaughter all Nephilim. And he lived with the Nephilim now. After supposedly dying in battle, the murderous angel had been sent back to earth, for what purpose, nobody could really decipher.
    One of the theories was that he’d been sent to make amends for the sins that he had committed as leader of the Powers. And what better way to make amends than by helping the Nephilim keep the world from plunging into total darkness?
    She hadn’t seen Verchiel in a few days and wondered if she should pay the nasty angel a visit. Maybe he would be able to impart some heavenly wisdom about what they could—or should—be doing in order to continue with their mission.
    Vilma truly didn’t expect much from Verchiel, but at this point she was willing to try just about