'... sure she is the one?'

'She has to be. Why else would the Fallen ... ?'

The voice muffled into silence as Kaitlyn rose in and out of consciousness. Her eyelids felt so heavy. She tried to open them but they seemed to weigh a tonne. Her body was worse. She couldn't move. Was she dreaming?

'They can make mistakes too.'

'No. She is the one. I know it in my heart.'

No. It was too sharp. It was too real. The two men sounded close, only metres away or nearer. One of their voices she recognised but couldn't fathom why. It made her heart race.

There was grim laughter. 'Except you don't have a heart.'

'My heart is with God—and he knows all.'

Their voices steadily became clearer. Her eyelids were becoming lighter. She could move her fingers now. She could feel that she was lying on something soft. Her fingers brushed against the smoothness of sheets.

'It was a close call. How did they find her?'

'They must have been trailing us. We will need to be much more careful in the future.'

A terrible realisation gripped Kaitlyn's stomach. She was on a bed in the presence of two men she didn't know, utterly wiped out. Where was she? Hadn't she been at the bar? She couldn't remember falling asleep. She couldn't remember getting home. What had they done to her? She gripped onto the sheets.

'Careful. She's waking up.'

There was a pause. 'Kaitlyn?'

Now she remembered that voice. Are you having dreams, Kaitlyn? The man in the grey hoodie! He'd been chasing her down the street. She recalled the roar of a car engine. Bright headlights. The man with the broken neck! The sound of his screaming as he burned alive.

As he burned alive.

You will come to understand.

Kaitlyn's eyes snapped open. She sat up with a gasp. Grey Hoodie and a second man were gazing at her from the foot of the bed she was lying on. Though she couldn't really call him Grey Hoodie now, no longer wearing his sweater, bare from the waist up. She stared at him. His face ...

'Have no fear,' he said gently. 'We are not going to harm you.'

Just like before, his face had that queer brightness to it. He didn't beam. He didn't glow. It was hard to describe. It was almost as though he was softly lit by some kind of inner candlelight. And amid that light he was striking to look at, almost otherworldly with his high cheekbones and broad jaw and gleaming green eyes—an impossible feature against his dark skin. His hair was cut closely to the scalp and his face was darkly stubbled.

'Where am I?' she said.

Just as she'd assumed back on the street, he was very muscular. Hard abdomen. Powerful chest. Thick, bulging veins wreathed his forearms.

He could crush her.

'You are safe,' said the second man. 'You are in the house of the Lord where no one can hurt you.'

As for his companion he was just as startling. He, too, was bare from the waist up. In stark contrast to Grey Hoodie, he possessed Asian features alongside porcelain white skin which gleamed against the single light hanging from a short chain above her bed. His long silken hair draped his broad shoulders in a black curtain. Like Grey Hoodie, he had startling eyes—not green but a strange-coloured brown that almost looked deep orange. He, too, had a face that was strangely bright.

All she could do was stare at them both, clutching a blanket that wasn't hers, stuck in a dank bare room that was in no way familiar. Lost and at the mercy of killers. That man—they'd killed him! They'd burned him alive without a second thought. Her heart thudded. She started to pant. What had they done to her? What were they going to do with her?

'Do not be afraid,' Grey Hoodie said quickly, circling the bed.

'Keep away!' Her voice echoed within the small room. There were no windows but straight ahead was an open door that led onto a darkened hall. If only she could get by the two men. She was still dressed in her work clothes but somebody had removed her shoes.

Grey Hoodie stopped. 'My name is Jacob.' He nodded at his companion. 'And this is Ezekiel.'

'But you can call me Zeke,' he smiled.

'We're here to help you.'

'H-help me?' She looked between them both. Ezekiel was smiling. Jacob looked solemn. 'You kidnapped me!'

'Yes,' Jacob said. 'But only to save your life—and the world.'

Kaitlyn stared at them. Did he just say that? She glanced at Ezekiel but he was just as serious. This was no joke—at least to them. Kaitlyn's heart raced as a series of terrible thoughts passed through her mind: they are insane; they are part of a cult; they are going to sacrifice me to some awful god; they are serial rapists, just like the guy on T.V.

They've kidnapped me. They've kidnapped me. I've been kidnapped!

She needed a weapon to defend herself with. She needed to get help. She needed to call the police, but her phone was in her bag. What had they done with her bag!

'I know this is frightening,' Jacob said calmly.

With a gasp, Kaitlyn scrambled back as he sat on the edge of the bed. But the bed was narrow and was pushed up against the wall and she had nowhere to go. The stone wall was cold against her back as she huddled against it. It was like she was in a cell. And all it did was confirm her fears. She had to be in a basement somewhere, just like those poor girls on T.V. Maybe these men had been friends with the man. Maybe they'd been in on it. They were going to hurt her. They were going to do things to her. She imagined Rachel watching T.V after they'd killed her, her body covered in a white sheet ...

Kaitlyn gripped onto herself. 'Let me go!'

'Are you a religious woman, Kaitlyn?' Ezekiel suddenly said.

She opened and shut her mouth. What kind of question was that? The man's eyes dropped to her chest. A knot tightened in Kaitlyn's stomach. What was he looking at? For a moment she thought he was staring at her breasts before she suddenly remembered her necklace.

Thieves.

She gripped onto it. 'You can't have it.' And she was surprised by the resolve in her voice.

'It's best you keep it,' Ezekiel said. 'You're going to need all the faith you have in the time to come.'

'Do you know what we are yet?' Jacob said.

'You are the men who kidnapped me.'

He gripped his knees. Kaitlyn noticed that his back was almost as muscular as his front. 'We are much more than that. We are angels, Kaitlyn, and we've been commanded by God to protect you, to help and support you, in this darkest of times.'

Kaitlyn didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Was it a good thing or bad thing that her captors were insane? Kaitlyn licked her lips. 'If you're angels, where are your wings?'

'We have wings. You just can't see them,' Jacob said.

'Can't really blend into a crowd particularly well,' Zeke said.

Crazy. But at least if they were insane she could get away. Kaitlyn played along. 'But-but aren't angels meant to be good? Shouldn't you take me back home?'

Jacob gave her a faint smile, clearly knowing exactly what she was trying to do. 'Yes, angels are meant to be good, but not all of us are.'

'Though we are the good ones,' Zeke added quickly.

Jacob nodded. 'But there are those who aren't so good—dark angels. Those who have turned away from God. They are called The Fallen. You encountered two of them last night, remember? You saw them. You know.'

Kailtyn held back a shiver as she thought of the man writhing on the ground, his neck twisted, his body all bent the wrong way. But even before then, she'd felt it. That warning. That dread. It had been much worse than even the thought of a stranger chasing her. And when he burned ... his eyes—they'd been empty.

Soulless.

Kaitlyn bit her lip. 'You killed him.'

'No. He was already dead,' Jacob answered. 'I merely sent him back to where he came from.'

'And where's that?'

They didn't answer. Kaitlyn swallowed. 'I want to go home.'

Zeke rested the back of his head against the wall with a sigh as he folded his muscular arms. 'Why bother with this Jacob? Just show her.'

'I had hoped she would be open hearted enough,' Jacob replied, looking across his shoulder at her meaningfully. 'I had hoped she would be a believer.'

'This is the twenty-first century, Jacob. Few have open hearts anymore, fewer still believe in anything, especially when it comes to this.'

'She wears the cross.'

'That means nothing.'

Kaitlyn gripped onto her necklace again.

'Show her, Jacob, or I'll show her.'

Jacob looked at her, then sighed. 'So be it.' Turning away, he bowed his head.