Fallen Read online

  Fallen

  A novel

  Mia Sheridan

  Fallen

  Copyright © 2020 by Mia Sheridan.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Permission by the author must be granted before any part of this book can be used for advertising purposes. This includes the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to Christi. The lingering grace of your friendship remains with me always.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  Thirteen Years Ago

  Kandace cried out as her foot caught on a thick root, pitching forward before catching herself, glancing back, and stumbling on. The moon above was round and bright, but it only shone in feathery pools, mostly blocked by the ancient, towering trees that swished and moaned in the gusting wind.

  She could hear the men behind her, crashing through the forest in pursuit, their breathing labored, heavy, a word or two drifting to her here and there as they gave each other instructions.

  Up ahead. There! Goddammit, don’t let her get away!

  Kandace’s lungs burned, the agony of the gunshot wound in her upper back screaming in pain with every desperate twist and turn of her escape.

  Please, please, don’t let them catch me.

  She was dead if they did. She had no doubt of that. They hadn’t hesitated in shooting her in the back as she’d run from Lilith House. She might be dying anyway. There was so much blood. She felt it running down her back, pooling at the dip of her spine. She was weak, terrified, but she could still run. Obviously, nothing vital had been hit—she hoped. If she could just find a place to hide, wait them out . . .

  She had been so sure she could get away undetected. She’d had a plan. How had they known?

  Kandace broke right, ducking through the vegetation that grew thick between two trees. She ran, hopping over impediments in her path that the moon highlighted, swerving around trees, ducking under branches that seemed to reach out and grasp at her, slow her down, too afraid of those pursuing to waste fear on the fact that she was being swallowed up by the forest where a horned demon was said to roam.

  Through a break in the trees she saw something swinging, there and gone in the blink of an eye. She slowed, glancing back once, terror seizing her throat, making it even more difficult to pull in air.

  Yes, supposedly a demon lived here. Even Dreamboat had said this forest might be haunted. She hadn’t quite believed it. But she’d been different then. Now . . . now she could believe anything. Lilith House had assured that.

  My utmost for His glory!

  She fell to her knees beside a towering fir, going still as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, blood whooshing, sending waves of throbbing pain to her wound. Her hand found the rough bark of the tree and she gripped its solidity, leaning against its trunk as she listened. Their voices were farther away now, but she could still hear them. They were coming closer. She had no time to waste.

  But she needed to rest. So badly. She had to lie still for a moment. Her eyes darted around, searching for somewhere she might hole up like a wounded animal until the threat was over.

  The leather bag she had strapped across her body rubbed against her wound and she adjusted it as she pulled herself to her feet.

  A soft noise to her right made her startle and she whirled toward it, assuming a defensive crouch. A red fox stood in a thin clearing, staring, its amber eyes soft and knowing. She released a harsh exhale, straightening as she blinked at the animal. She thought of the injured creatures the kid had treated, hiding them in the shed behind Lilith House until they were well enough to be set free. At the thought of the kid’s tender heart, regret slammed into her chest like the bullet in her back had done. Little Dreamboat. I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m so sorry. She’d be back for him though. Her hand went to her round stomach. She had someone more helpless to protect now. The kid could handle himself. He was stronger than he knew.

  The fox’s ears pricked as the sound of the men coming closer bounced off the trees. The voices were suddenly very close and she didn’t remember leaning back against the tree. Had she drifted off? The fox stared at her for another moment and then darted in the opposite direction from where she stood.

  “There!” one of the men shouted. Feet crashed through the brush, following the movement of the fox.

  Kandace didn’t hesitate. She ran the other way, weaving, stumbling, terrified that she was growing weaker by the moment. She clutched the leather bag to her body as she moved, tripping over something on the ground and going down with a painful jolt. For a moment she considered not getting up. She considered lying right there on the forest floor and just . . . giving up. It would be so easy. She rolled to her back, gazing up at the stars through a break in the branches.

  Don’t give up on yourself. I haven’t. She heard her friend Scarlett’s passionate tone in her head, the words she’d said to her not so long ago and the memory bolstered her. Kandace pulled herself slowly to her feet. She had given up on herself. She’d made so many mistakes, had so many regrets. She hadn’t listened to Scarlett then, the only real friend she’d ever had, but she’d listen to her now. She wouldn’t give up, not when it mattered most.

  There was a large rock near where she’d fallen and Kandace took off the leather satchel, taking in a deep breath before using what strength she had left to push at the rock. Sweat and blood dripped down her spine as the rock slowly rolled, leaving a large crater in the dirt where it’d been. Kandace went down on her knees, using her hands to dig a deeper hole. She folded the leather satchel up, using the strap to wrap around it, placed it in the fresh hole, and then pushed the rock back where it’d been, scattering pine needles and dead leaves around it. Standing, she used her feet to smooth out the ground. She took a moment to assess the hiding place, and then satisfied it didn’t
look as though it’d been disturbed, she turned and moved on.

  Despite being unencumbered by the bag, Kandace was slower now, but still she traveled forward. The trees began to thin, making movement easier, the terrain turning rockier, large boulders as tall as people, outlined by the moon. When she came to a clearing, she stopped, panting, turning in a slow circle. A canyon was in front of her, the forest behind. There was nowhere to travel forward, but she couldn’t turn around. Something shrieked overhead causing her to jump and let out a terror-laced squeal. Her heart pounded in her head . . . only, no, no, the pounding was coming from outside of her. Slower, steadier than the panicked rhythm of the blood pumping in her veins. A drumbeat, drawing closer. Cold dread settled in her gut. Tears spilled out of Kandace’s eyes and tracked down her cheeks as fear vibrated through her. No, no, this can’t be real.

  A dark shadow with large, curved horns moved behind a tree to her right and she stumbled backward, her head pivoting as the shadow appeared between two trees to her left. The world tilted, swimming before her eyes. She felt hot and cold, shivering and burning. Her teeth began to chatter. The shadow appeared again and again, moving impossibly fast, seeming to be everywhere at once, the drumbeat rising, a slow chant echoing words she didn’t know. Words from another place, another time. Kandace let out a choked sob stumbling backward, away from that unknown horror.

  She turned back to the woods, toward the enemy she could identify, the enemy she had a chance of fighting, of hiding from. A blow smacked into her flank, causing her to whirl around, clutching at her midsection as she fell. Shouts. More voices. Blearily she saw the man who’d just shot her turn and raise his arm toward the sky to signal the others forward.

  A bolt of lightning streaked across the heavens and before the coming thunder rumbled, a fur-covered creature surrounded her from behind, and Kandace jolted, opening her mouth to scream but unable to utter a sound.

  “Holy fuck! Did you see it? The thing!” said a man’s voice—one of them—high and panicked.

  Weakly, she attempted to fight, but whatever it was, it was too big, too strong—inhuman—and she was so tired, so weak. Dying. It picked her up effortlessly and ran, something clanging at its side, chanting as it moved, its voice gritty and unused. She caught one word, garbled but recognizable because of its strangeness: Novaatngar. She’d heard it before, recognized it from the legend the kid had told her. The Dark Place.

  Oh God no. No no no.

  Fat droplets of rain hit her face as another spear of lightning ripped the sky in two, shaking the ground and rattling her teeth.

  But God will strike you down once and for all! He will pull you from your home and uproot you from the land of the living!

  Perhaps Ms. Wykes had been right. Perhaps she was wicked after all. A sinner. And if the devil who had captured her allowed her to live, God Himself would strike her down. Kandace struggled weakly, the arms around her increasing their pressure. She felt them descending, the thing’s footsteps steady and sure as it maneuvered them down and over, navigating a steep incline. Her eyes cracked open and her equilibrium tilted dizzily so that she snapped her lids closed. She’d been looking into a bottomless pit, the entrance straight to hell.

  The creature stopped suddenly and prickly brush scraped across her exposed flesh before she was laid down on hard, packed dirt. Kandace’s head swam, white pinpricks of light obscuring her vision as she grappled for something to cling to. Her head hit the ground with a soft thud. Her eyes closed and then cracked open, the stars that had danced in her vision fading momentarily. She looked straight into the face of the thing that had captured her and carried her there. Her stomach cramped and a scream rose to her throat that emerged as nothing but a horrified squeak. Oh God no. No. How could it . . . She tried to think. She tried to think but her thoughts scattered like dry leaves on a windy day. Kandace leaned over and wretched on the ground, moaning as she rolled back, her head hitting the ground again.

  Behind her, the brush rustled as it was moved back aside and then the foliage fell back into place, closing out the moonlight to the space where she’d been left . . . alone.

  The shock that had ricocheted through her at the sight of its face calmed to a dull throb of faraway concern. Her limbs felt weighted, her vision growing hazy again. Dreamboat. Little Dreamboat. The wind screamed past and the rainfall intensified, mixing with the retreating drumbeat. Competing noises echoed around her, blending, fading, growing louder and then fading again, lulling her to sleep. A pain ripped down her abdomen and she emitted a low moan.

  Mommy, I want my mommy. She craved the safety of her mother’s embrace. Yes, she could admit to that longing now. She should have acknowledged it sooner. She should have grieved it and let it go. Oh, if only . . . if only.

  Her hand went to her rounded stomach, which was drenched in blood. Another pain tore through her. I’ll do better, she thought. If given the chance, I’ll do better. For both of us.

  Kandace used the final vestige of strength to curl her body, bringing her knees upward, and closing her eyes.

  The drumbeat faded, along with everything else.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Present Day

  “Is that it?” Haddie asked.

  Scarlett glanced in her rearview mirror to see her seven-year-old daughter leaning forward, gaze focused on the statuesque white mansion, its gables rising proudly into the blue, California sky.

  “Yes,” Scarlett said, stopping the car and staring at the structure. It’d seemed less imposing in the pictures she’d looked at online. “Lilith House,” she muttered. “Or at least it was. We can give it our own name though—anything we want. We can call it . . . Sunnyside Manor, or Happy Hill House . . . Haven Cottage maybe?” She shot Haddie a grin. “What do you think about that?”

  “I don’t think you can just change a thing’s name,” Haddie murmured, her eyes still glued to the house. “Can you?”

  Scarlett turned to look at her daughter’s serious expression. Haddie was always serious though. Too serious, Scarlett sometimes worried. An old soul, her friend Merrilee called her. She smiled, smoothing a lock of white-blonde hair away from her child’s angelic face. So serious. So beautiful. “I’ll check my rulebook on that, okay, kiddo? For now”—she unhooked her seatbelt—“let’s go introduce ourselves.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Scarlett set their suitcases down on the front porch as she input the code the bank had given her for the lockbox. The door let out a long, piercing squeak when Scarlett pushed it open, as though it had been rudely awakened from a deep sleep and was voicing its complaint at the intrusion. Maybe it was. After all, the house had sat empty and abandoned for the last thirteen years.

  Haddie walked stoically next to her as Scarlett entered, stopping in the middle of the two-story foyer and looking around. A grand staircase curved upward directly in front of them, cobwebs stretching from the railing to the walls and glinting in the sunlight pouring through the large arched window above. The wallpaper—what she assumed had once been bright pink and yellow roses—was now dull and peeling. It gave off the sinister effect of dead flowers climbing the walls. A series of squeaks sounded from above and Haddie moved closer to her mother’s side. Surely ghosts reside here, she thought, or at least, that was the overall effect of the house where time had apparently stood still for over a decade. I’ve moved my daughter into what appears to be the quintessential haunted house, she realized with an internal grimace.

  Her childhood friend Kandace had been here once. To think of that felt surreal. What was her reaction when she’d first stepped into this foyer? Had she thought it elegant? Probably not. Kandace had been used to homes far more opulent than this one.

  “People died here, Mommy?” Haddie asked, bringing Scarlett from her wandering thoughts.

  Scarlett’s gaze flew to her daughter. She must have heard her talking to Merrilee. Damn. She paused for a moment. “Not in the house, baby. But yes, there was a fire in a building out back. The st
udents and the staff living here at the time were in that building and they didn’t get out.”

  Haddie’s forehead screwed up uncertainly. She glanced at Scarlett as though she was only telling her a partial truth. Scarlett opened her mouth to offer some reassuring words when Haddie spoke first.

  “What’s that smell?” Haddie wrinkled her pert little nose. Apparently, her daughter had moved on from the fire . . . and the deaths. Scarlett was only too happy to change the subject, even if the new topic was unpleasant as well.

  “I don’t know,” Scarlett said, though she’d noticed it too. “Something might have died in the walls a long time ago. We’ll have to get an exterminator out here.” Or maybe it was just the mildew-ridden carpet she spotted through the open door of the room to their right. She set down their suitcases and went down on one knee in front of her little girl, looking into her wide green eyes and giving Haddie her most cheerful smile. “We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do around here, but I promise you this is going to feel like home before we know it, okay?” She held up her hand, curling all her fingers inward, except her pinkie. “Pinkie promise.”

  The glint of a smile lit Haddie’s face. A pinkie swear was like gospel to Haddie. She raised her own hand, linking her pinkie with her mother’s and shaking.

  **********

  An explosion of dust burst before Scarlett’s face and she sputtered, flapping her hand around in an effort to dispel it. “God, this place is a mess,” she muttered. Still, there was life left in the old girl and she’d found it in an attic suite of rooms, rich with exposed beams and what she assumed were original hardwood floors that would be gorgeous once they were re-sanded and stained. There was only one window in the bedroom she’d designated her own, but it had a lovely view of the gazebo and towering conifers behind the yard, and featured a beautiful stained-glass transom window that made rainbow-colored light flood the space.