All That Falls (22 page)

“Maybe he wasn’t someone we knew. Maybe he just broke into the house Griffin and I rented.”

“You remember that? You remember a burglar?”

She held out a hand. “As I said, my memory of that night is very vague, but I get flashes of terrible memories. Something was done to us…” She trailed off as she resumed walking.

“When I saw Griffin’s tracks in the snow, I had this strong feeling that he’d been running from someone, but there were no other footprints. What if it was Reziel in the flesh? With his wings, Reziel could’ve flown through the woods without ever touching the snow and chased Griffin right off that cliff.” She stiffened as a feeling of dread coursed through her.

“It’s possible. I’ve battled most of the demons who’ve risen, but there’s another archangel of the flesh who could have vanquished a risen demon before I got to it. It’s more likely that there was no demon, and the musician fled the house to escape Reziel’s human follower.”

Cerise rubbed her hands together to warm them. “Even a person under demonic influence must be monstrous. Griffin must have been terrified.”

“He was a coward.”

“Hold on—”

“By running, the musician abandoned you. The malignant force could have returned to the house where you were alone and incapacitated. If he loved you, he should never have left you.”

“Griffin’s not you, Lysander. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against a demon.”

“Whether he could’ve won is not the issue.”

“We don’t know what happened. Maybe he left to draw the danger away from me. Unless I can remember more of that night, there’s no way of knowing. And why don’t you ever use Griffin’s name?”

Lysander’s jaw tightened.

“Lysander?”

“I don’t respect him.”

“God didn’t give men the courage of lions, Lysander. You can’t expect everyone to stand and fight. Especially in the face of something really terrifying, like a demon.”

“Would you have run? Would you have left your lover to face a demon alone?”

“I have no idea what I would have done.”

“Yes you do, and so do I. You wouldn’t have deserted him or anyone you cared for. You would have stayed and died if necessary. He wasn’t worthy of you,” Lysander said with such contempt it made her wince.

“Don’t say that. Don’t attack him when he’s not here to defend himself. I think Griffin might have left the house because of something I did or said that night. We had a fight. Maybe I kicked him out, and some kind of evil was lying in wait. Maybe it’s my fault.”

“Maybe he deserved what he got.”

“Lysander!” She stopped walking and scowled at him.

Lysander stopped, too, and she noticed his hands were balled, like he wanted to put a massive fist right through something or someone.

Clenching his jaws hard enough for her to see his muscles working, Lysander stood rigidly still. Then after a deep breath and a moment of silence, the tension seemed to ease and his hands opened.

“There’s perhaps another reason that I despise the mu—that I despise Griffin Lane. As I mentioned when I told the story of how we fell, archangels aren’t immune to jealousy.”

She cocked her head.

“The closer you and I become, the less I like hearing about your feelings for him.”

Because he looked sweetly dejected, Cerise stepped forward and put her arms around him. She grazed his cheek with her lips, hugging him.

“It’s all right for you to have a little humanity in you. If you didn’t, I don’t think I’d be able to relate to you. Or that you’d be able to relate to me.”

His arms snaked around her, creating a fierce embrace. Being pressed against his rock-hard body, which smelled so delicious, made things low in her body tighten. She felt her
resolve cracking. It wasn’t just Lysander’s beauty and strength that drew her. They shared the same philosophy about love and friendship and loyalty, the same feelings about music and dance and who knew what else? At moments, she felt like her soul was a lock to which Lysander might hold the ultimate key, and all he needed to do was to slip it inside and turn it to open everything she was. She didn’t know whether that strange impression came from them being bound by his blood or if they really were just that well suited to each other. No matter the reason, it scared the hell out of Cerise.

You could back away…

She didn’t move.

Or not.

Moments ticked by, her body heat rising. She tightened her grip even as she murmured, “We should probably look at the mural.”

His breath ruffled her hair in the most intriguing way, and her own breath caught. She wanted a kiss. And much, much more.

He brushed his lips over her temple. Blood pounded through her veins.

I want—

No! You can’t have him right now. You’re in a freaking hallway!

She sucked in a breath and twisted her upper body, struggling against his grip and against her own instincts.

“You were going to tell me what happened to your magic,” he said, clearly stalling.

She smiled. So he was burning, too. Well, at least they were in lust together.

“Yeah, but I can walk and talk at the same time as you may have noticed.”

He released her. She stepped back, tingling with unsatisfied cravings. She licked her lips and straightened her shirt, and all the while he watched her with an “I want to devour you” look that pleased her and made her wary.

“There’s not much more to tell,” she said, walking farther from him. “After Griffin died, my magic wasn’t the same. At first, I thought it was grief, but that wasn’t the problem. Even when I started to recover emotionally, my magic didn’t.”

He lengthened his stride and kept pace with her. “You said you’ve had a return of your powers though. Since when?”

She hesitated, flushing. He raised his brows in question.

“I’m not sure exactly when.”

He cocked his head and looked faintly amused. “But you have an idea,” he pressed.

“It seems to have started to really come back since we were alone in the apartment. Maybe when we danced.”

“Or maybe when I made love to you?”

She shrugged.

His lips curved into a smile. “You’re welcome,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. “All right. If it is because of you, then I’m glad. And grateful.”

He nodded and added smugly, “So my supernatural presence trumps whatever evil Reziel visited upon you. I’ll remember to tell him that when I face him next. Right before I cut his throat and force him back into that sewer they call hell.”

His mix of righteous fury and icy menace awed her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him and paused without realizing it.

“Here, Cerise,” Lysander said, striding the rest of the way down the hall. He stood in front of a brightly colored mural of writhing vines. It was a tree house in the middle of the rain forest. “This is the same style. And here,” he said, nodding. He crouched down to the lower right corner. “This is the same symbol that was on the ledge mural. I think it’s how the artist signs his work.”

She studied the logo of intertwined letters,
I
and
R
. “Her work,” Cerise said a little breathlessly, drowning in dread.

“You know it,” Lysander said triumphantly, but his expression turned grim when he looked up at her face. “You know it,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“I do. It’s Ileana Rella’s logo. Ileana’s the fourth Etherlin muse, and she’s a friend.”

Tamberi licked Hayden Lane’s blood from her lips. Waifishly pretty in a geek-boy way, Hayden hung by his arms, which were secured to the ceiling by a rope. His head lolled forward toward
his bare chest. She gave his body a push and his toes skimmed across the fifteen thousand dollars scattered on the floor.

She was in the midst of running a sharp nail over his nipple to rouse him when an explosion rocked the floor. She spun and ran to the window.

The south warehouse, which had been her headquarters, was a ball of flames.

She screamed curses as she rushed to the phone. Another more distant explosion rocked the world again.

“What the fuck?” she yelled, grabbing her silk robe and flinging it on.

Merrick! That son-of-a-bitch. While my teams were mobilizing, he was already here planting bombs.

She tied the sash and shoved her feet into shoes, reaching for her loaded gun.

Thanks to her plan that had knocked out the Varden’s cell towers, her own communications were limited. She swept out of her office and down the hall. There were snipers on all the rooftops surrounding the syndicate headquarters building, so she didn’t have to worry about Merrick strolling in. Unless he’d disguised himself in some way. Would he expect her to be at syndicate headquarters? Probably not. She’d been running things from the warehouses. She was lucky she’d come in for a meeting and had decided to stay and play with Hayden.

She heard footsteps in the stairwell, and she pulled the door open. “What’s going on?” she called, spotting a plump figure with fuzzy brown hair waddling down the stairs in pumps.

“Merrick’s blown the tunnel and the south warehouse. He sent a message that he’s wired two other syndicate buildings to blow,” her father’s secretary Sylvia said. “He’s claiming that he didn’t kill Victor and can prove it, but that if the syndicate prefers to be at war with him, he’ll play.”

“Motherfucker. I am going to cut off his fucking head,” Tamberi said, tasting blood and ash on her breath. She licked her teeth.

“Why would he say that he can prove he didn’t kill Victor? Merrick’s too smart to believe that he can get away with a bluff.”

“Of course, he’s going to lie. He has to lie, Sil. He’s fucking under siege. The syndicate just needs to keep gunning for him. The teams will take him out tonight.”

“Haven’t you heard? The east warehouse’s team is dead. Merrick had dozens of snipers lying in wait. A group at Bella Cera and Scavolini took out the whole team.”

A scream of pure rage wailed from Tamberi’s lungs. That sneaky son-of-a-bitch!

An icy hand stroked her neck and she shivered. She swiped the air, trying to ignore Reziel’s invisible presence.

“I’m leaving. This could be one of the buildings that’s rigged to blow,” Sylvia said. “And we’d all better hope Merrick’s proof satisfies the syndicate because this isn’t a war anybody should want.”

“He has to die. Can’t you see that? No single ventala can be allowed to become more powerful than the syndicate. He has to be put down. No matter what it takes.”

Sylvia waved a disgusted hand and clattered down the next flight of stairs.

“They’ll cave. They’re such a bunch of pussies. I wish they were all dead.”

She felt slush wash over her brain. “You’re right,” she said, exhaling. “This wasn’t the main event.” She grabbed her bangs in her fist and yanked, the pain helping to center her. “I can be patient. As long as you keep your promises, I’ll keep mine.”

She backed out of the stairwell and glanced around. Was it time to lie low for a few hours and regroup? Things were already in motion. Yeah, let Merrick finish his offensive and get tangled up with syndicate negotiations. And then she would strike again…with more force than anyone in the Varden had ever seen.

She strode back to her office, keeping a sharp eye for any signs of movement. She raised her gun as she reentered. Empty ropes hung from the ceiling. Had Hayden been playing possum?

Sneaky little fuck. Good for him.

She narrowed her eyes as she stalked around the room. She didn’t find him crouched behind any large pieces of furniture or under her desk.

It didn’t matter. Playtime was over anyway.

“Let’s go, Lysander,” Cerise said as her phone rang again. She’d turned the phone on so she could text Ileana, but hadn’t gotten
a response from the other muse. That wasn’t unusual. Ileana wasn’t as tied to her cell as the rest of the world. She often left it setting somewhere out of hearing distance for hours.

Cerise scrolled through her own text messages. She’d been getting them all day from the new ES director and from her dad, but she hadn’t answered. Now both Dimitri and Dorie were calling her. Cerise let the calls go to voice mail, but could almost feel security officers being called together for a briefing about a fallen angel being discovered in the Etherlin.

She jabbed the down arrow on her phone and called her voice mail to listen to her dad’s message. She pictured him, stout and powerful in a black suit, pacing holes in the living room carpet while he tried to reach her. He would not be happy.

“Cerise, your father here. I’ve just heard from Etherlin Security that explosions have destroyed the main tunnel and several buildings in the Varden. This is clearly a continuation of the gang war that erupted last night. We’re locking down the Etherlin. I’m told that you haven’t passed the checkpoints and are safely within the Etherlin. I need that confirmed. Call and let us know where you are.”

Good girl, Dorie.
Her sister hadn’t called her dad or ES. At least not yet.

As Cerise and Lysander left the top floor, she sent a text to her dad.

Am okay and in the Etherlin. Am at Griffin Lane’s apartment visiting his little sister who was sick last night. Sorry I missed your texts earlier. Battery was dead. Will call you later.

Then Cerise called Dorie.

“It’s me,” Cerise said. “You can come back and stay with Jersey.”

“No, I can’t. Dad wants me home. He wants you here, too.”

“When Hayden asked you to stay with Jersey, did he say how long he’d be gone?”

“He thought a couple of hours. He should be back any time, but ES is locking down the Etherlin. If he doesn’t get here soon, he won’t be able to get inside. There are bombs going off in the Varden. I hope he didn’t go there. He said he wasn’t, but he seemed nervous about whatever he had to do.”

“I’ll text him about the lockdown.”

“I already did.”

“Did he text you back?”

“No, but ES said the cell towers are down in the Sliver. In the Varden, they’re killing each other in the streets. Can you even imagine? They’re like a bunch of wild animals. Thank God for the wall. And speaking of the fallen, what are you going to do about
him
? Is he gone yet?”