All That Falls (17 page)

She traced his neck muscles to where they met his shoulders, then her fingers kneaded his flesh. His exhalation of breath ruffled her T-shirt.

“No hands ever felt better on my body. Not even when I was in love,” he said. “I wish this was a dream; I’d pray to never wake up.”

“When were you in love?” she asked, aware that the jealous pang in her solar plexus was unwarranted. This closeness was only an illusion.

“I’ll tell you about it, but before that there are other things that need to be said.”

Her hands stilled at his grave tone. As if her body’s stiffening were his cue, he raised himself to a sitting position. He twisted slowly, and a hiss of pain escaped his lips.

He extended his arms toward the ceiling, but jerked to a stop with a grimace. “The root of the wing is still cracked.” His pursed lips were pale, but not blue as they’d been the night before. “I’ll have to modify my movements to let it heal. It’s a miracle that you managed to—” He looked at her. “I owe you my life. And an apology.”

“An apology for what?”

“For creating the circumstance where my blood was under your hands.” He rubbed his jaw. “I shouldn’t have come here, but Richard’s house is empty. I didn’t expect anyone to find me. I thought to leave you a gift.”

She put an arm behind her head to prop it up as she watched him. “Why is it a problem that I touched your blood?”

“An old tradition. An old law.” He studied her, pausing as if trying to decide how to explain. “Through the ages, men have
sworn blood oaths and have scored their hands to mix their blood as a testament to their brotherhood and loyalty to each other. It was once thought that all maladies were found in the ill humors of blood and that draining away bad blood would be curative or at least therapeutic.” He licked his lips. “The human preoccupation with blood comes from the angels. When we took on the flesh of mankind and saw that wounds bled—that we could share a part of ourselves—we made the first oaths. And it became law that to touch an angel’s blood or to carry his blood inside one’s body was to become bound. That’s why when I made love to you I didn’t complete the act even though I wanted to. If you would’ve become pregnant and carried my blood inside you, we’d have been bound and I didn’t want that.”

She frowned.

“I would never have tied your fate to mine on purpose,” he continued. “I’m fallen, and that’s a dangerous state of being. I have no brotherhood to stand with me against my enemies—which are numerous—and no sanctuary within which to leave a lover. I belong nowhere. Unfortunately, now neither do you.”

Her stomach clenched, dread building, and she sat up. “What do you mean? What does that mean?”

“We’re connected.”

“Permanently?”

He inclined his head.

“I didn’t agree to that.”

He smiled ruefully. “Your agreement isn’t required. You acted on impulse, but there are still consequences.”

She pursed her lips. That couldn’t possibly be how things worked.

He must have sensed her skepticism because he pressed on. “Imagine you’re in your kitchen and you bump something which then falls from the counter. Instinctively you grab it. It turns out to be a butcher’s knife that you caught by the blade. The fact that you didn’t have time to consider your actions doesn’t protect your fingers from being cut. You bear no blame, but there are still consequences.”

As this logic penetrated, her mind raced. She couldn’t have changed her whole life in that instant. She was one of the four most powerful muses on the planet. She had a special destiny—a
divine gift of her own. She wasn’t just a trophy human to be dragged along by an angel. “My life is my own.”

“Yes, and now it’s tied to mine. My blood marked you and sealed my obligation. I’ll defend you to the death. And until your soul is delivered to heaven or hell, you’re mine.”

Her pulse pounded like the feet of runners in a dead sprint.
Hold on.
She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.
He could be lying to trick me into doing what he says. Demons would do anything to have a muse’s ability to influence people. Maybe an almost damned angel would, too. Everyone knows the fallen can’t be trusted.

“I live here in the Etherlin where no fallen creature is welcome.”

“I did warn you not to touch me.” He rose to his towering height. “At the time, I wasn’t strong enough to stop you. But you saved my wings, so I can’t…” He paused with a pained expression. “I can’t completely regret that I wasn’t.” He tapped his fist against his leg.

She stared at him. He had warned her. In fact, he’d hesitated to get involved with her all along. Unless that had been an act—a really convincing one. She narrowed her eyes. Con men and tricksters often did things to draw their marks to them. They pretended reluctance to make the mark more eager. Could that have been part of his ploy to draw her in? No, he really had been bleeding to death. That definitely hadn’t been a ruse. But what did she really know about him? Only that Alissa cared about him because he was Merrick’s friend.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t hear one,” he said.

“The implied question,” she said, scowling. “I live here. You can’t. How will you act as bodyguard under the circumstances?”

He walked to the doorway, glancing briefly over his shoulder at her. “I’m sorry your life changed without your consent, Cerise. When you’re done grieving your loss, come to the kitchen. For now, I’ll leave you with your thoughts.”

Lysander diced tomatoes with the kind of speed usually reserved for master chefs. She watched from the doorway, admiring the
way he moved even while she was swamped with doubts about him and about her own future.

When he reached up into a cupboard with his left hand, he stopped sharply and brought his arm down to his side, using the other.

“You need a sling to remind you not to use that arm.”

“A sling,” he said, glancing down as if one might appear. “That would be a good reminder of many things. Like how close I came to losing this body. Again, my thanks. I think it wasn’t easy work getting that wing back inside.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“I’m lucky you’re stronger than most people. And that you had the fortitude to cut a wider wound. Many could not have brought themselves to do it.”

“Tell me more about what us being tied together means.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers catching on the tangles. “I’ve explained it as well as I can. Fate will reveal the rest.”

She studied his face, unease rippling through her. He knew more than he was saying. Things she probably wouldn’t like and wouldn’t want to accept. “I want more information.”

He shook his head and turned away.

“Lysander?” she said, infusing her voice with persuasive power. She felt a rush of exhilaration at using her magic. She realized it was the second time she’d been able to—the first had been when she’d talked herself out of the grips of overwhelming lust when he’d left her.

“Do you like French toast?” he asked, apparently unaffected by muse magic. That grated, her joy melting away momentarily. She wanted her divinely instilled power to be as strong as his.

“About us…”

“Maybe eggs.”

She glared at his back. “Lysander, I deserve the most detailed explanation you can give me. I expect that much considering that I saved your wings and your life.”

His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t say more. He crushed pistachios and flipped egg-saturated bread in them, then he dropped the bread slices into butter sizzling in a pan.

She sighed. She had to coax him to talk, to open up to her again. To reveal
more
. She needed to know everything.

“How did you fall? You said you didn’t rise up during the rebellion.”

“That’s exactly how I fell,” he said. He turned and studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “You probably should know the details of what happened since my enemies are now yours.”

She shivered.

He turned back to the stove and poured eggs into a second pan. He shook spices into them. “For a time, the world was left in the care of the Olympians. Your ancestors,” he said, glancing at her. “They were bright and brave enough in the beginning, but the more they involved themselves with humans, the more they became like men. They could be creative and charismatic in wondrous ways, but they were also driven by jealousies and rage, by passion and other strong emotions. They acted out of spite and made men pawns in their games with each other. Eventually the Olympians were forced to cede power.”

“Forced?”

“They wouldn’t go willingly. It was a battle, and many of them were more experienced in fighting and war than we—the angels—were, but,” Lysander ran his hand down his chest and belly, then flexed his biceps, which rippled with impressive effect. He smiled. “Heaven has the power of creation. When we became flesh, there was nothing to match us. And we were devoted to any mission given to us. We trained tirelessly and hard. Proud of our dedication, He gifted us with what He gave to the lions.”

“The lions?”

Lysander nodded. “Lions don’t know fear. It’s the same for us. In the moment of battle, nothing and no one can intimidate an archangel.”

“Merrick has that, too.”

“You noticed,” Lysander said with a smile. “There’s a story there. A story for another time.” He flipped the bread as she continued. “Most of the Olympians were banished to another realm. Some who’d been faithful to their original charge were allowed to stay on earth, and they tried to integrate into human society. They married and had children. In the end, however, they all rejoined their own society in the other realm. With one exception. Hades built a massive underworld that he ruled. By
agreement, he was never allowed to rise, but there was nothing in the original compact that prevented his interference with mankind. When there is a loophole in a law, there is someone to exploit it. I’m sure you’ve seen as much.”

She nodded with a small smile.

“Hades raised an army of former men. He cursed them to crave human and angel blood and then released them into the world.”

“Vampires.”

“Exactly, but by then there was an archangel army. We kept the vampires at bay, and they receded into the shadows of caves. Over the years, we withdrew from earth and let mankind govern and protect itself. Like a child that reaches adulthood, the society of men had to make its own way. Often they gave us cause for pride and celebration. Unfortunately, not everyone was happy to see man’s progress and their close relationship with heaven.”

Lysander tossed shredded cheese and sautéed vegetables onto the eggs and folded them over. “Some angels, like the Olympians, lost their innocence during their visits to earth. We were warned not to interfere with mankind in a way that would cause harm. That fanned the flames of jealousy. We were the first children of heaven and had always felt ourselves most favored. With so much attention paid to mankind, some angels became bitter. When their rumblings were not well received, they hid their feelings, buried them so deep that many of us didn’t understand what was brewing in their hearts.”

“Jealousy is so dangerous,” Cerise said, thinking of her complicated relationship with Alissa and how it had affected Cerise’s relationship with her father, Dimitri.

“You’re familiar?”

“Jealousy and resentment ruined my childhood friendship with Alissa.”

“She must be quite changed in adulthood then. She doesn’t seem given to jealousy at all now.”

Cerise smiled. “She wasn’t jealous of me. I was jealous of her.”

Lysander paused. “Why?”

Cerise laughed, pleased that he seemed astonished. “Another time. Finish your story.”

“I had taken flesh and was on earth searching for my closest brother. He’d gone missing, and there were rumors that he must’ve been overcome by a mass of vampires. Lucifer and I found his medallion at the mouth of a river. We smelled fresh blood on the banks and knew there were underwater caves. I dove into the water without a moment’s hesitation.

“Heaven’s trumpet call sounded and I surfaced. There’s a law that at the sound of heaven’s trumpet, all angels return home and form ranks. There hadn’t been a call in many hundreds of years. Lucifer looked up and said, ‘We’re being called back to get orders for this. They know he’s in trouble.’

“I should’ve leapt from the water and taken flight for home. Instead, I looked up at the stormy sky and thought he must be right. There were no Olympians left, and no creatures but vampires were ever foolish enough to challenge us, so what else could the call have been for?

“‘They’ve dragged him down. These may be his last moments. Why don’t you go in? I’ll return to heaven and tell them where you are. We’ll rejoin you,’ he said.

“Lightning streaked the sky, and the trumpet sounded again. I should have risen. Instead I listened to Lucifer and dove underwater.”

Lysander’s hands rested on the counter, and he hung his head, his hair shielding his pained expression.

“While I slaughtered vampires and searched the underground caves, Lucifer and Reziel, for whom I was searching, and their band of malcontents rose up against our brothers. They tried to overtake the kingdom of heaven in a bloody battle. Many of the best warriors fought with Lucifer. Victory was a very near thing, but the hand of God stretched out with gusting winds and storms of flame. Heaven was emptied of angels. Even in the darkest caves, I felt the earth rumble and quake. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I rushed back to the surface. I shot from the water into the air. The sky rained bodies, but I didn’t let that distract me. Heaven was under siege, and I raced to get there to defend it.

“I arrived too late. Much too late. The gates were locked. I rattled the bars and shouted, but no one came. I returned to earth and found a spritely angel named Toibel that I’d trained.
I lifted him and his blood flowed like a river over my hands. His wings had been ripped out, his back shredded.”

Lysander’s voice was a ragged whisper when he said, “With wide eyes and his dying breath, Toibel asked, ‘Lysander, where were you? They could never have killed so many if you’d been there to fight.’” Lysander put his hands over his ears as if to block out Toibel’s voice echoing in his head.