THE SAINTS HAVE FALLEN: CHAPTER 21 (Part1)

The Saints Have Fallen is a YA Dark Romance Fantasy Novel written by Celine Mahadeo.

Novel. Fiction. Genre (Dark Romance Fantasy).

By Celine Mahadeo.

BLURB

After being stripped of his title as a God and turned into a demon in the presence of his brother, Yuri was banished to earth to live amongst the humans whom he hates. 200 years later, a young girl shows up at his doorstep holding both his life and death in her hands whilst not having any idea of the power in which she possesses.

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Yuri.

“What are you thinking?” Claude asked, bored, raising both brows.

Ignoring his question, I retreated to the library. The chunky, heavy boots synced in his footsteps echoed through the air, following me. Claude sprawled across the large velvet chair sitting in the library as I floated the strands of hair before me. I muttered the words and felt the magic flow through my veins. I needed to know who she was.

“If you wanted her hair, you could have asked me. I’d have been happy to yank a fistful out.” He threw his head back in a bored sigh. He tilted his head with a wicked tug of a smirk at the edge of his lips, “For a minute though, you almost had me fooled. Like you were genuinely intrigued by the human.”

“Be quiet.” I scowled as he interrupted my words. I sliced my gaze over to his direction. “Touch her and I’ll happily rip you apart and your innards too- until there’s nothing left.” It was a polite warning. The last thing I needed was Claude’s interference in my matters.

“Forgive me,” he let out a low, amused, chuckle, “Perhaps that wasn’t all just an act after all.”

I focused my attention back on the strands of hair where it began turning to smoke before us. Claude’s frown intensified. I didn’t trust him alone back here yet so I might as well take him with me. The room began burring itself in a foggy mist. His eyes swept across the room as he stood, hand on his dagger. I calculated whether or not to tell him. Claude’s interest and loyalty lie only within himself, but I couldn’t take the risk of him doing something stupid and reckless due to a lack of knowledge shared.

“I need to find out who this girl is and why my brother brought her to me.”

“Mathias brought her?” His question wasn’t intended to be given an answer, but rather a question to himself. He was confused and I swore I observed a flash of concern sweep across his face but was gone instantaneously.

“We’re in her past. These are pivotal points; it shows us who she really is and came to be. It should help us understand.” A tang of guilt drenched over me. I always kept my word and I meant it when I told her that I won’t intrude on her thoughts any further. But this, I convinced myself, was something entirely different. And it had to be done.

A blood-curdling scream sliced through the door before us. I pulled the door open, entering an earthly home. It was quite large but cozy. I stood still, touching the banister which curved in a C-shape and expanded the staircase at either end of the home. Dust settled on the wooden floor of the foyer before me, and there was little light that entered through the windows due to the heavy dark drapes shut impressively acute. My head shot to the left where the scream echoed again in one of the many rooms stapled onto the wall. Claude looked at me for a brief moment, jaw clenched as we walked towards the half-opened door.

A woman with long, dark, wild hair sat on the bed. Tears streamed down her face frantically as she held her hand out in defense from the man before her. He stood a few feet away as he held a menacing look in his eyes. I knew that look all too well. Anger. Wrath. His grey eyes were filled with hate and disgust towards the woman. The floor was shattered in icy specks of broken glass. His movement was humanly swift and sharp as he grabbed a bottle filled with what seemed to be alcohol. Burned the remaining content down his throat and smashed it into the wall, causing it to break into a million tiny pieces as the woman screamed again. She was clearly terrified, and he had the intention of hurting her without a doubt.

I walked out of the room, where I saw a soft light glowing through one of the nearby doors. I drew myself closer. At the corner of the room, tucked snugly between the shadows, I heard deep and soft, uneven breathing. Fear. A small child, perhaps around five or six of human age, cradled herself with a blanket. Silky dark hair fell over her face and licked onto the gluey tears on her cheeks. I knelt beside her, deep in a frown, regardless if she couldn’t see me. Her body trembled and her eyes widened when another scream pierced through the air. She brought her knees closer, hugging and hiding her face in them. She whispered something softly, a prayer to my brother in a shaky voice. Her love for my brother certainly ached at an early age.

Claude stood at the frame of the door with an empty expression. He parted his lips to say something about the girl but retreated his words back in silence. A silver door formed before us at the side of the room, drawing us in closer.

“Where are you going?” the woman’s voice screamed just before I pulled the new door open.

“Far away! And don’t come looking for me!” The man’s voice and footsteps thundered heavily down the staircase.

“No!” She chased after him, her tone somewhat desperate, “Please, we won’t be able to afford-”

“I don’t care!”

The door thundered behind him and echoed through the now-silent abode. The mother turned, an empty look plagued upon her face, and stood at the frame of the child’s door. For a fraction of a minute, they locked eyes. The child was scared as her bottom lip quivered. “Mama?” Her voice was soft and broken. Confusion and fear intertwined within her eyes. I expected the mother to walk in, hold her in her arms, and cradle her. Instead, the woman shut the door with not a word, leaving the girl behind.

Claude pulled the silver door open and walked into the new room as I followed behind. We were in yet another murky and dusty room. The floorboard creaked as we moved. The room was small and tiny, almost claustrophobic. A spec of light traveled in from the tip of the wall ahead which focused our eyes on the triangular ceiling. This must have been an attic. On the floor, the girl, perhaps around eight nestled onto a thin mattress. She clung to a book and shifted uncomfortably. A low grumble of her stomach ached into the atmosphere as she closed her eyes tightly and curled herself tightly together. Her hand held onto Mathias’s stone firmly. With lips cracked, thin lines of blood creased upon them. She was clearly dehydrated and starving.

“I think I liked her better when she was demanding and snarky,” Claude scowled, turning away, trying to conceal any further expression from slipping out.

“Ana!” A deep voice called with footsteps growing louder, “Where are you?”

“Grandpa?” she shot up, rushing to the door but it was locked from the outside. A bright light flashed through, staining the once cold and dark atmosphere when the door swung open. A man, hair full of grey, wrapped her into his embrace as he scolded the woman who walked up casually from behind them. Her body language was unbothered and tired. It was the mother. Her mother. Just older and her soul much emptier than before.

“You shouldn’t have locked her in here!”

“Your son shouldn’t have left us!” she hissed back before leaving.

The silver door appeared again before us, calling us inside. This time, the interior of the house felt more decorated and somehow prideful. The smell of despair left and was replaced with a much more colourful scented sin.

The human stood brushing the long blond hair of another young girl who sat at a vanity. Both looked around the age of sixteen I assume. Her features were much like her present-day features except much more youthful.

“How was your piano class today?” She tried to make conversation.

The other girl scoffed in a laugh, “You know the only reason I’m taking that stupid private class is to see the teacher’s son. Anthony is so dreamy. He’s sexy and perfect and manly- ouch!” She yelled as the hairbrush went through one of the tangles in her hair. “You did that on purpose!”

“I didn’t.”

In a swift beat, the pampered girl spun on her heels, grabbing a hairbrush. “Liar!” She swung viciously at Ana’s cheek. My lips parted. I hadn’t expected that sudden act of rash violence toward the girl. Blood leaked from her now swelling lips. Her eyes never met that of the girl’s. She stilled, heartbeat drumming within her chest.

“Let me remind you that the only reason that you’re here, Alois is because of Grandpa. Nobody wants you here except that old man. Your dad left and put this house in his brother’s, my late father’s, name. So, this house will belong to me one day. Look, even your stupid mom left you too.” She iced with snide and pride, “My mother is a saint to still offer you a place in this house.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Claudia,” Ana said tiredly.

The girl laughed. “Why? Because that stupid stone around your neck told you so? The Gods aren’t real, Ana. If they were, do you think you’d be in such a shitty place in life right now? You have nothing. You are nothing.”

The sound of the doorbell hummed loudly within the house.

“I’ll get it,” Ana said softly, wanting to be anywhere else. She clutched onto Mathias’s stone as she headed for the door when the girl named Claudia spoke, “Just some friendly advice cousin, it’s best if you stop believing in those stories and myths about ‘Gods’ that that insane old man teaches you.”

The doorbell echoed again. I waited for the silver door to show up, but it hadn’t yet. Perhaps there was still more to see. Claude glanced me over. I couldn’t tell what his expression read, but that was no surprise. We tailed her as she opened the large oak door to greet a slender young man with bronze hair and hazel eyes.

“Anthony?” She greeted him, somewhat confused, still allowing him to enter. “What brings you here?”

The boy opened his mouth to speak but his eyes fell upon her face, and blood at her lips. An instantaneous frown etched with concern fell upon his face. His heartbeat gave way. He certainly had much more intense feelings. Claude gave a little scoff at my side. He was clearly now amused.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” she said too quickly. A lie. “I just fell,” she continued with a smile and rubbed her lips with the base of her palm, “It’s nothing really.”

He hesitated, unsure what to believe but brushed it aside not to create any awkward tension. “Uh, Claudia left her notebook, so my dad asked me to return it.”

“What a good Samaritan,” Claude laughed lowly, unable to believe that.

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Ana smiled, accepting the notebook. “You can meet her if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“No- it’s- uh- ” he began on nerves, “I was hoping to see you actually.”

“Oh, did you meet my grandfather at his workplace? Did he send a message for me?”

“Oh, this is adorable.” Claude wickedly chuckled in amusement.

“No,” the boy answered, closing the gap between them yet keeping a decent amount of space. He stared at her cheek, touching the bruise with his thumb. Something in me edged. My jaw tightened at the scene. Before my body could react to what I was witnessing any further, she pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I think maybe you have the wrong idea.” She spoke in a polite tone, “Maybe you should meet Claudia.”

A loud grumble shook beneath us as the next door appeared at our side. I held onto the doorknob when I felt a strange magic swirl within it. Brushing it aside, I pushed forward. We were inside a large bedroom. This particular room seemed to be recently renovated with its porcelain floor and marble vanity and shelves. The moonlight, which was the only source of light, seeped in whilst a woman with brunette hair- pulled back into a bun- poured a glass of red wine and sipped on it. She sat, heels folded, on a gold antique bergère chair as Ana knocked and entered.

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