All That Falls (18 page)

Cerise’s throat tightened and she stepped forward, but he put out a hand to block her from touching him.

“Never offer me comfort for that mistake. I earned this pain.”

“They tricked you.”

He nodded. “Which is why I’m fallen, not damned.” He glanced up a moment, lost in difficult memories, then continued, apparently determined to tell it all. “The earth cracked to reveal the underworld, and tornadoes of flames swept the damned downward. Lucifer tried to drag me along, taunting me, saying that I was barred from heaven like the rest. He swore they would make a paradise of the roiling underworld, that it would be greater than heaven. I was on my knees with despair, and Reziel, whom I’d loved as a favorite brother, put a hand on my shoulder. ‘I knew you would be torn. I spared you the pain of the choice. It’s over now,’ he said, gasping from the pounding pressure and flaming gusts that were forcing them down. ‘There will be no angels left here, and you can’t rise. You have to come join us so you won’t be alone.’

“I shoved him away, but he grabbed me and held on. ‘I won’t give you up. I told Lucifer, I’d never give you up. I wouldn’t raise a blade against you. Come with me. You must!’

“I swung my blades and severed his wrists. He fell backward, screaming with pain, shocked and enraged. He shouted, ‘You cut me? You cast me off? Curse you, Lysander! A thousand curses! We’re brothers no more!’

“When the crater closed and the storm ended, I was alone here—the enemy of everyone I’d ever cared for.”

She grimaced.

“And so I would remain for thousands of years, chilled to the bone for the lack of heaven’s light and warmth.” He licked his dry lips. “I fight for a chance to redeem myself so I can
return home. Seven hundred years ago, Gabriel told me that I’d earned a chance. He delivered the pieces of a prophecy, the shreds of hope.”

“Such a long time,” she said.

He shrugged broad shoulders. “Many of heaven’s faithful were lost during Lucifer’s uprising. My neglect puts their blood on my hands.” He drew his thumb over his lower lip as if to rub away the difficult words that passed them.

“I’ve never shirked my duty since.” Lysander’s gorgeous eyes narrowed. “When demons rise, I race heaven’s archangels to reach the damned first, to fight and slash and kill, to force them back down. heaven won’t claim me, but I wage war in its name. And of heaven’s ranks, I’m the deadliest soldier of all. Still.” Lysander’s mouth curved into a smile. “They curse my name in hell.”

The fierce gleam in his eyes intensified and his icy smile widened, making him glorious in the way reserved for warriors.

From betrayal comes the ripped and deadly poster boy for retribution. Beware the fallen angels.

He inclined his head as if agreeing to the thought she hadn’t voiced.

“It’s my one satisfaction in this world,” he said. “I’m the bane of hell.”

After breakfast, Cerise took a shower. When she pulled back the curtain, Lysander was bending over the sink brushing his teeth. She quirked a brow.

“There are probably ten bathrooms in this house.”

“Yes, but your naked body was in this one,” he said. His gaze perused her curves, hotter than the steam smoking the mirrors.

“Considering the way things ended the last time you had my naked body at your disposal, you’re not invited to join me when I’m naked.” She snapped a finger and pointed to the towel she’d left on a shelf.

He lifted it and held it out, but didn’t release it. A sexy smile curved his lips. “That was then.”

She arched a brow and tugged. His hand opened, and she took the towel and wrapped it around her.

Noticing the packaging in the wastebasket, she glanced at the sink’s drawer. “Are there more new toothbrushes in there?”

He rinsed his mouth, set the toothbrush down, and turned, leaning against the sink and blocking her hand’s reach for the drawer. “There are. Not unexpectedly, Alissa and Richard are good hosts.”

“So give me one,” she said, turning up her palm. When he didn’t move, she frowned at him. “What’s your deal?”

“Not precisely a deal—wait, you were using a colloquialism. I’m not always familiar. Unlike demons, who follow the lives of humans and mimic their language so they can better communicate and interfere, I don’t normally fraternize. Before I befriended Merrick, it had been about seventeen years since I’d conversed with anyone.”

“Nice hermit life.”

He shrugged. “I prefer things now. Angels aren’t suited to solitude, but I’ve needed to be wary of building connections here.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you from going your wary way. It’s a very big house.”

He smiled and shook his head. “We’re bound now, so there’s no reason to separate myself from you anymore.” His gaze dropped from her mouth to the place where the towel was knotted above her breasts. “I can get as close as I’d like.”

Her brows rose. “It’s not only about what you’d like.”

His eyes met hers. “Of course not. I can also get as close as you’d like.”

She was tempted, but couldn’t help recalling what he’d said. The fact that Lysander hadn’t intended to help Lucifer’s uprising had spared Lysander from the full consequences of being complicit. Intentions counted. She may have touched Lysander’s blood and somehow tied herself to him, but how much tighter and more unbreakable would heaven consider their bond if she took him as a lover?

“At the moment, I’m not sure what I want,” she said. “Why don’t you—?” She flicked her fingers toward the door.

He pushed off the sink, towering over her. She wasn’t used to having to look up at anyone, and it punctuated the strange seductiveness of his size.

“I have some things to investigate, Cerise. It’ll be easier with your help and I intend to exploit that advantage. It seems only right that you should be allowed to exploit any advantage this arrangement affords you, too.” He leaned close, his minty breath sweet against her lips. “I’ll need my body for fighting when there are demons to put down, but the rest of the time…you’re free to use it for your pleasure.”

“My very own supernatural stud service. What more could a girl ask for?” she said dryly.

“Have a care, Cerise,” he said, his grin widening. “If you challenge me to strip the derision from your tone, I’ll rise to the occasion.”

“Wow,” she said, putting her palm in the middle of his chest as he crowded her. “What’s that in your veins? Distilled testosterone?” Her hand shoved against him. “Back up.”

“May I have a kiss first?”

“Obviously if I’m telling you to back off, then no.” Her heart thumped hard in her chest. In no way did she trust herself to stop things if he kissed her.

“As you like,” he said, stepping back. Then without so much as a warning, he shucked his pants. Ignoring her slack-jawed expression, he walked past her and stepped into the shower.

As asses go, that one’s perfect.
She looked away and shook her head with a frown.
Tread carefully. He’s in a rush to leave this world and you’re not. The last thing you can afford is to be drawn into the battles he and Merrick fight. That would be way too dangerous.
She glanced at the fluttering shower curtain where beating water tempted her toward its warmth and toward his hard wet body.

Get out while you have the chance.

She snagged a toothbrush and the toothpaste and fled the room. She wandered until she found Alissa’s dressing room. Most of the designers sent Alissa sample sizes that could be worn by models who were a size four like Alissa. Stretch fabric would be required for Cerise to fit into anything found in Alissa’s closet. She flipped through knit dresses, finding a loose jersey style that looked like it would serve.

Pulling it on, she glanced down to where her thighs emerged from under the fabric. “Not meant to be a minidress, but it’ll have to do.” She ran her fingers through her hair and tossed
the wet towel in the clothes hamper before going off in search of Richard’s room.

The last thing she wanted was for Lysander to wander around with all those buff muscles unclothed and close at hand. She needed to cover as much of him as possible.

Searching Richard’s closet, she didn’t find much that a seven-foot-tall angel could wear. She settled on a charcoal knit sweater with short sleeves. The pants were hopeless. He’d have to make do with his own leathers again.

“Nice stems.”

Startled, she jerked, then looked over her shoulder. He’d come into the room so silently, she hadn’t known he was there until he’d spoken. She quirked a brow as he stared at her legs.

“Did you say ‘nice stems’? Did we time travel to the 1950s and no one told me?”

Lysander smiled. “Merrick used to say that occasionally as a boy.”

“Merrick’s nowhere near old enough for that to be his turn of phrase.”

“I think he picked it up from an old guard when he was incarcerated. Merrick’s appreciation for the female form is boundless. When he was young, admiring and pursuing it was his highest priority. At sixteen, he told me that if I wanted to learn to flirt with women, I should watch him.”

She and Lysander laughed.

“It was well meant. He never lacked for female company and I always did. He couldn’t fathom that my solitude was by choice.”

Cerise forced her eyes to stay on his face rather than dropping for a glimpse of his nude body. She reached into the closet and grabbed a thick bathrobe and thrust it at him. He shrugged into it without comment.

“You mentioned you’d been in love. Tell me about her. Or him,” she ventured.

“Her,” Lysander said, unperturbed by her implication that the lover might have been male. “Felice.” He glanced away, and the amusement lighting his face disappeared. “I’ll share that story sometime, but not now. It’ll make me melancholy, and I’m in the mood to be—not melancholy. Shall we go out? I
want to show you some artwork. A demon’s trespassed here. Not in the flesh, but through the mind of someone artistic.”

“Lysander, you can’t go out. Not until it’s dark when you can fly out of the Etherlin undetected.”

“Fly?” He shook his head. “My wing will take time to heal. It’s the only sort of injury from which I don’t immediately recover. And I’d never risk more damage to it by trying to fly before it’s fully mended.”

“Then you’ll be a bit of a shut-in here, because as a member of the fallen, you’re persona non grata in the Etherlin. We can’t risk you being spotted and caught. You can tell me where the artwork that you want me to see is located and I’ll go and have a look.
Alone.
”

He smiled. “Alone? Without my protection?” He shook his head. “You’re bait for demons now, and the last thing I’d ever share with them is a girl who’s mine.”

“Yours,” she echoed in a pavement-flat tone. “I haven’t agreed to that, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop repeating that we’re hopelessly bound to each other.”

“Silence on a subject doesn’t make it less true.”

“I have a few things to take care of on my own. I’ll come back for you after dark.”

“No.”

Her jaw tightened. “Why not? There are no demons on the loose at the moment, are there?”

“Pay attention,” he said, his voice going cool and hard, “because just as you tire of me repeating myself, I tire of it, too. Someone opened a window to hell last night. More demons escaped to this side than have ever come through before at one time. They almost took my wings. Whoever opened that portal will try again because Lucifer and Reziel will promise them anything to do it. I am hell’s worst enemy. They’ll never stop hunting me. And now that you’re important to me, they’ll never stop hunting you, either. You are not safe.”

“How would they even know I’m important to you?”

“You’ve been anointed with my blood, with my essence. When close enough, demons will smell it. Some of the more powerful demons will be drawn to it from miles away.”

“What if I don’t intend to take your word about this? I need
proof that there’s no loophole that I can climb through to get my life back to the way it was before I touched your blood.”

He made a dismissive hand gesture. “You’ll have your proof if demons capture and kill you,” he said. “Trust me, you don’t want proof.”

“Listen, it’s not quite dusk. In the past, haven’t demons always been raised at night?”

“Often, but there’s nothing that prevents a daytime ritual.”

“Of course there is. Fallen creatures are nocturnal and if one is going to raise a demon, that’s better done under the cover of darkness, isn’t it? When there are fewer witnesses to see them take to the skies? The law of probabilities says that the next time someone raises a demon it’ll be at night. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

“You’re not a poker chip, Cerise. I don’t gamble with things I’m not willing to lose. I’ll go where you go, whether you like it or not, because you can’t stop me.”

She offered him a look of pure ice. “We’ll table this discussion for now, but don’t kid yourself. If you do something that proves you can’t be trusted, I’ll rid myself of you one way or another.”

He inclined his head with a wicked smile that tugged at the deepest reaches of her body. In a low voice that was both dangerous and seductive, he said, “I look forward to seeing you try.”

As daylight faded, Cerise and Lysander walked the wooded path toward the Etherlin’s center. At her request he’d brushed his thick hair and secured it in a rubber band, which allowed her to study his handsome face.

“If you can heal any wounds other than those to your wings, why do you scar?”

“When the wounds are fresh, I could heal the skin if I wanted to.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to?”

He shrugged. “They’re battle scars. The trophies of my victories. Also, I believed the scars would make me less appealing to human beings. I thought it would be easier to avoid people if they shunned me.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Why ask if you already know?” he said. “Your pupils double in size every time you look at me.”

She frowned, knowing he was right. Maybe if he’d had worse scars on his face it would have worked, but for some reason she found his face and body more compelling with them. It was almost as if he’d have been too beautiful without them.