Lucca

Lucca: Warriors for the Light

Bound by Hatred, Freed by Love

A Fallen Angels Novel Book 2

Karen Michelle Nutt

Smashwords Edition

Presented by
Publishing by Rebecca J.
Vickery

Copyright © 2011 Karen Michelle Nutt

Art Cover Copyright © 2011 Karen Michelle
Nutt

Produced by Rebecca J. Vickery

Design Consultation by Laura Shinn

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
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Eli:
Warriors for the Light

At
the Stroke of Midnight

Autumn Moon

Dedicated to my family and friends.

I appreciate your love and support.

Lucca Marlowe is half human, half angel, one
of the Nephilim. Banished for crimes against one of his fellow
brethren, the elders bind his glamour and wings, casting him to the
human’s realm. He’ll either learn to respect his human side of
existence or live out eternity trying.

Lucca does not live a mundane life. Angels
and demons demand he do their bidding. His estranged father
resurfaces after centuries of being absent and he’s brought a
friend from Hell.

To make his life more complicated, he fears
he found his soul mate in a human female. Only Juliet Romeo has a
secret that will bring the wrath of Heaven down upon their
heads.

It’s a race against time to find out who will
end up with his soul.

“
It lies not in our power to love, or
hate,

For will in us is over-rul’d by fate.”

Christopher Marlowe –
Hero and
Leander

Chapter One

October 1593, London

Tears slid down Juliet’s cheeks in angry
streams of regret. Her sister lay dead at the age of eight and ten
after surviving the black sickness, where hundreds perished,
including their parents and two brothers. The pregnancy demanded
too much from her and now her body lay cold and unmoving.

Juliet swiped away the tears with the back
of her hand. Crying wouldn’t breathe life back into her sister,
Marie.

“I am sorry for your loss.” The deep voice
that rumbled like thunder startled Juliet out of her grief.

She turned glassy-eyed to peer at the man
responsible for her sister’s death. “You are too late, Sir Rafe,”
she spat, not caring to hide her bitterness.

The knight was a giant among men, standing a
head or more taller than most, a warrior’s body with his thick
arms, wide chest and muscled thighs that stretched his tights to
the limit. His strong-boned features reminded her of a sculpture
chiseled to perfection. His eyes were a light shade of silver-blue,
a color yet to be matched. He was
beautiful
, but also
lethal. Rafe would prove to be a man not to be crossed. Yet this
man charmed his way into Marie’s arms, a woman who had been timid
and sweet. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance before Rafe
disappeared from Marie’s life, leaving her with child. Unmarried
and disgraced, Marie refused to give up hope for Rafe’s return.
She’d been right after all, but what did it matter now?

Juliet’s gaze shifted to her sister, lying
so still, her pallor the shade of blue-tinged milk. Her light
colored hair haloed her face. The strands were still damp, a
testimony to how long she fought to bring life into the world.

“The child,” Rafe spoke, his voice raw with
emotion, forcing her to look at him again. “Did the child survive?”
His gaze latched onto hers, holding her prisoner, demanding she
answer him.

She lifted her hand and pointed to the
makeshift bed in the corner, where a swaddled bundle lay among the
pillows.

His long strides took him to the babe. “He
lives then.” His words were a hoarse whisper, choked with emotion,
but Juliet didn’t want to hear it.

“At the cost of my sister’s life. Aye, he
lives.” Forcing herself to her feet, she went to stand beside him.
“Marie named him, Owen.”

“A befitting name for my young warrior.”
Rafe’s large fingers moved with delicate ease, lifting the blanket
aside so he could feast his eyes on his son. “So small. So
fragile.” His voice held a tinge of astonishment.

“He’s only hours old. Did you expect him to
wield a sword in greeting?”

His lips curved ever so slightly. “No, I
suppose I did not.” His fingers caressed the top of Owen’s head.
“He has his mother’s hair color. Her light strands were always so
soft between my fingers.”

Marie had hair the color of moonbeams, their
father would say, while Juliet’s hair resembled the warmth of the
sun.
You are my sun and moon, dear girls.
She could hear her
father’s words and for a moment she felt loved and safe, but she
shook her head clear of the notion. She was alone in this world.
She had no one, but Owen now.

Rafe reached for the baby. He was such a
large man, but he held Owen as if he were the most precious of
jewels.

Why had Sir Rafe returned? Her gaze lingered
over the small child cooing up at his father as if he recognized
him. Then Rafe’s reason became clear to her. Fear clutched her
insides, twisting her gut until bile burned her throat. “I made a
promise to Marie,” her words spilled out of her mouth in a whirl of
panic. She couldn’t let this man take Owen.

Rafe looked at her, his full attention
almost too much to endure with those silver-blue eyes blazing a
trail over her features. “Go on.”

“I pledged on her dying breath to keep Owen
safe.” Though her knees trembled, she would not back down. Her chin
lifted ever so slightly to prove her point as she waited for his
response. Her heart raced with anxiety. How could she stop Rafe if
he wanted to take the babe?

After a long moment, Rafe nodded. “And you
shall keep him safe, but you must not stay here. You cannot.”

Her brows drew together in confusion. This
was her home. Where would she go? “You’ve been away for more than
seven months without a word, but now you announce your presence,
demanding I leave all I know behind. I think not, Sir Rafe. Be
warned, I will not be charmed to do your bidding as my sister was
inclined to do.”

His eyelids fluttered closed in a deliberate
blink and his voice softened. “It is not safe. There are those who…
hunt me.” His gaze touched his son again. His finger caressed the
child’s soft round cheek. “This is why I stayed away.”

“Then why come back now?” Her fear flowed
over to her words. Someone hunted Rafe, wished him harm and here he
stands holding his babe, who would make a sure target for
revenge.

“I know what you’re thinking.” The candles
around them blazed brighter as if Rafe’s voice flamed them. “They
know I favored Marie and soon they will know she bore me a
son.”

“How? They? Who hunts you and how do they
know where we are?” Her eyes narrowed. “You fool, you led them to
us?”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading for her
to understand. “I am not of this world, Juliet.” Her name vibrated
in every corner of the small room, like an echo mocking her. The
fine hairs on her arm stood up on end. “I think you know that,” he
told her.

Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes
narrowed in accusation. “Surely, you are a devil.”

He shook his head. “But I am not human
either.”

Her brows drew together. “I do not
understand.” Rafe talked nonsense. How could he not be human? Her
gaze wavered to the child, wishing to take him from Rafe’s arms and
run. A foolish fantasy for sure. Even if she made it to the door,
he would be upon them in two strides.

“You would not go far if you ran.”

Her gaze riveted to Rafe’s again. “You read
my mind.” It wasn’t a question but he nodded, confirming her
fears.

“I will not harm you, Juliet.” His light
eyes filled with sorrow as if her fear of him wounded him in some
way. “I need your help,” he beseeched her, his gaze holding her
still.

“What are you then, if you are not human as
you say?”

His gaze burned her with power as if he
could reach inside her and touch her very soul. Fear threatened to
take hold, but she held it at bay. She must keep a clear head if
she was to escape with Owen. She shook her head, trying to keep her
mind blank. He could read her mind. He may already know her
thoughts, which would not bode well. Her gaze wavered on the babe.
This sweet child was of his blood. If Rafe was not human…

“He is also your sister’s babe,” he gently
reminded her.

She looked at him, knowing it was no use
denying she’d been questioning the child’s purity. “Does that make
him good or evil?”

His lips curved in a sad smile. “We have
freedom of choice. I am not…” There was a slight pause then a sigh.
“I’m not evil, not in the way you believe evil exists.” He turned
his head to the side as if a noise caught his attention, but Juliet
heard nothing alarming. The night lay quiet with only the usual
sounds of the wind, chirping of insects, and an occasional hoot
from an owl.

Rafe’s gaze locked onto hers again. “They
draw near.” He glanced at his son and she couldn’t mistake the love
that shone from their depths. “If only I had more time,” he
murmured.

Juliet didn’t know if the statement was
meant for her or for Owen. He stood taller now, those all so
silver-blue eyes dimmed before his eyelids slid over them, hiding
their radiance in humble submission. Her brows furrowed at the
gesture. This strong, tall warrior gave her reverence. “I give you
my son of my blood and your beloved sister’s to keep safe.” He
bowed, holding Owen in his outstretched hands like an offering.

She stared at him in disbelief, but her feet
moved forward and her hands snatched the child from him, holding
him close. “You have my word. I will raise Owen as if he were my
own.”

His gaze found hers again and those eyes lit
from behind, the color so bright she wanted to look away, but could
not. “So be it,” he said the words like a prayer, binding her to
her pledge. Then he released his invisible hold on her and she
looked away, drawing in a breath. “Let the babe rest,” he said. “We
have much to discuss.”

She had more than a few things to tell him
herself. She placed Owen down, covering him with blankets so he
would not catch a chill. She turned to speak to Rafe, to tell him
she didn’t need his help, but the words lodged in her throat. A
yellow aura surrounded Rafe’s head exaggerating his dark strands.
In place of his fine threads, he wore a gray robe. The light from
the fireplace danced upon the fabric, making the threads look as
though they were made of water, shimmering and flowing like liquid,
but the most troubling features were the blue feathered wings
sprouting from his back in a majestic display of wonder.

She shook her head. “No. My eyes deceive
me.” Only she knew this wasn’t true. In a blink of an eye, too fast
for a human to move, he stood in front of her. Before she could
run, his hands clasped either side of her head, his palms on her
ears and his thumbs on her temple. It was not a fierce hold, but
she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Light shone around him and his
large beautiful wings, the color of frosted blue, shimmering like
jewels in the sunlight, spread wide. “Do not be afraid,” he told
her as he stared at her. He was reading her mind. She could feel
him probing inside her head like tiny fingers moving aside her
thoughts, shifting them to reveal all she was.