Read Online From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) by Sherrod Wall - Free Book Online
Authors: Sherrod Wall
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and practical experience, that without her
guidance he would have remained the brash, incapable fledgling that he had been
only a few centuries ago.
“In that case I will be on my way,” Riell said instead. “He is on the
move.”
He’s hiding something, she thought. I’ve never heard him speak
about Earth or the humans like that. I need to see what is truly going on with
all of this.
“I don’t know why you still feel the way you do about this place,”
she said and shook her head. “You live in the most stagnant part of the city on
pizza, beer and petty thieves. I would think that you would at least have a
harem of women at your disposal.”
“After this job we will want for nothing,” Shrazz said and grinned at
Riell. His sharp rows of teeth glinted in the yellow light. “Want to do some
celebrating once everything is said and done like the old days? We can do a
tour de France.”
Riell ignored him, put her hair up, opened a portal and stepped through.
Shrazz laughed.
“I missed you too, Riell.”
Chapter 9
Drean watched humans making merry from the bar and did not know what to
think. Their candor stunned and amazed him as much as the pub itself.
A young classical guitarist sat in one corner of the pub with a small
audience, fervently plucking and strumming his instrument. His lively music had
distracted Drean: although second to the voice of God, he had never heard
anything so awe inspiring in his life. Gerald had given up trying to have a
conversation with him. The man finished his song, thanked his applauding
audience and put a beanie over his long hair.
“I guess he’s done for the night,” Gerald said. “Gonna hang out with me
now?”
“Sorry. Is there more music like this that I can hear? Are there more
humans that can manipulate that, um…”
“Guitar? I told you before it’s a guitar. And yeah, there’s a lot of
music like that out there. He’s the best I’ve seen live though.”
“Live? There are undead capable of such art on Earth? What a strange
place,” Drean said.
“What the hell are you two talking about?”
“Right, I didn’t even introduce you two,” Gerald said to the short man
who had interrupted them. “This is my friend Drean, Greg.”
Drean glanced up at Greg and gave him a nervous smile.
Greg extended his hand across the bar.
“Good to meet you.”
Drean regarded his gesture curiously.
“Take his hand,” Gerald muttered.
Drean gingerly held Greg’s hand and did not let go. Greg pulled himself
away from Drean’s grip and confusion crossed his pale, freckled face. He
squinted one of his dark brown eyes at Drean and stared at him with his open
eye.
“Uh, sorry, Greg. He’s a little new to our customs,” Gerald said.
“Of course,” Greg said, and looked around for something else to do.
“I’ve never been to a bar before,” Drean said.
“You’ve never been to a bar?” Greg asked. “Huh. How old are you?”
Drean opened his mouth to answer, but Gerald was quicker.
“He’s twenty-three!” He clapped one of his calloused hands on Drean’s
back. Drean winced. “I know it’s a bit weird that he hasn’t been to a bar
before...”
“Yeah it is,” Greg said.
“Or The Circ for that matter,” Gerald finished.
“Twenty-three? I thought he was at least thirty-five. I need to card more
often...” Greg said.
“Why are all these people in costume again?” Drean asked.
“Well, I’m sure Gerald has told you a little about this area,” Greg said.
“Yes, he told me each area represented different human cultures...”
At the word “human,” Greg squinted.
“...periods in history and sexual orientation. And, even though I’m still
really uncertain about what sexual orientation is, I do get the whole
underlying point of this area.”
Greg stifled a chuckle and Gerald glared at him over the top of his mug
as he took a drink.
“I know it’s humorous that
I’m naïve,” Drean said. “You don’t have to try to
guidance he would have remained the brash, incapable fledgling that he had been
only a few centuries ago.
“In that case I will be on my way,” Riell said instead. “He is on the
move.”
He’s hiding something, she thought. I’ve never heard him speak
about Earth or the humans like that. I need to see what is truly going on with
all of this.
“I don’t know why you still feel the way you do about this place,”
she said and shook her head. “You live in the most stagnant part of the city on
pizza, beer and petty thieves. I would think that you would at least have a
harem of women at your disposal.”
“After this job we will want for nothing,” Shrazz said and grinned at
Riell. His sharp rows of teeth glinted in the yellow light. “Want to do some
celebrating once everything is said and done like the old days? We can do a
tour de France.”
Riell ignored him, put her hair up, opened a portal and stepped through.
Shrazz laughed.
“I missed you too, Riell.”
Chapter 9
Drean watched humans making merry from the bar and did not know what to
think. Their candor stunned and amazed him as much as the pub itself.
A young classical guitarist sat in one corner of the pub with a small
audience, fervently plucking and strumming his instrument. His lively music had
distracted Drean: although second to the voice of God, he had never heard
anything so awe inspiring in his life. Gerald had given up trying to have a
conversation with him. The man finished his song, thanked his applauding
audience and put a beanie over his long hair.
“I guess he’s done for the night,” Gerald said. “Gonna hang out with me
now?”
“Sorry. Is there more music like this that I can hear? Are there more
humans that can manipulate that, um…”
“Guitar? I told you before it’s a guitar. And yeah, there’s a lot of
music like that out there. He’s the best I’ve seen live though.”
“Live? There are undead capable of such art on Earth? What a strange
place,” Drean said.
“What the hell are you two talking about?”
“Right, I didn’t even introduce you two,” Gerald said to the short man
who had interrupted them. “This is my friend Drean, Greg.”
Drean glanced up at Greg and gave him a nervous smile.
Greg extended his hand across the bar.
“Good to meet you.”
Drean regarded his gesture curiously.
“Take his hand,” Gerald muttered.
Drean gingerly held Greg’s hand and did not let go. Greg pulled himself
away from Drean’s grip and confusion crossed his pale, freckled face. He
squinted one of his dark brown eyes at Drean and stared at him with his open
eye.
“Uh, sorry, Greg. He’s a little new to our customs,” Gerald said.
“Of course,” Greg said, and looked around for something else to do.
“I’ve never been to a bar before,” Drean said.
“You’ve never been to a bar?” Greg asked. “Huh. How old are you?”
Drean opened his mouth to answer, but Gerald was quicker.
“He’s twenty-three!” He clapped one of his calloused hands on Drean’s
back. Drean winced. “I know it’s a bit weird that he hasn’t been to a bar
before...”
“Yeah it is,” Greg said.
“Or The Circ for that matter,” Gerald finished.
“Twenty-three? I thought he was at least thirty-five. I need to card more
often...” Greg said.
“Why are all these people in costume again?” Drean asked.
“Well, I’m sure Gerald has told you a little about this area,” Greg said.
“Yes, he told me each area represented different human cultures...”
At the word “human,” Greg squinted.
“...periods in history and sexual orientation. And, even though I’m still
really uncertain about what sexual orientation is, I do get the whole
underlying point of this area.”
Greg stifled a chuckle and Gerald glared at him over the top of his mug
as he took a drink.
“I know it’s humorous that
I’m naïve,” Drean said. “You don’t have to try to
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