All That Falls (23 page)

“He’s leaving now.”

“He’d better. When will you be home?”

“Soon. I have to go, but I’ll call you back in a little bit.” Cerise ended the call, powered the phone off, and turned to Lysander. “Things have gotten more complicated. Because of the unrest in the Varden, there will be a lot more Etherlin Security officers on patrol. We can walk to Ileana’s house from here, but we need to do it without being seen, because if ES spots me, they’ll insist on taking me home. My father’s orders.”

“You needn’t worry. I won’t allow them to take you anywhere.”

She held up a hand. “I don’t want there to be a confrontation. If we see any guards coming our way, we’ll duck into the shadows.”

“I’m an archangel, Cerise. I don’t hide. As I told you, on the ground or in the air, if there’s a fight, we hold our positions. We never run.”

“You transported us away from the fight when the syndicate was attacking us.”

“That wasn’t my fight. They hadn’t attacked me. If ventala had engaged me personally, I would have stayed to fight.”

“But at the moment, you can’t take to the air. So what happens if Etherlin Security spots you and tries to take you into custody?”

“I won’t be taken.”

“Meaning you’ll fight and kill men who are just doing their jobs?”

“Angels are bound by instinct and by law to defend themselves. So yes, anyone who attacks me will have a deadly fight on his hands, be he human or demon.”

“There won’t be just one. There will be a lot of them.”

“One man or a legion of men, it makes no difference to me.”

If an entire army were marching toward him, would Lysander really stand his ground? She looked him over and
decided he probably would. He was proud, unapologetic, and decidedly male.

He’s right. He’s like a lion.

She loathed that about him. And loved it.

His crazy mane of golden hair had come loose when the rubber band broke. It was somewhat fitting, but Cerise didn’t want him to look quite so wild when she introduced him to Ileana. They needed information from her. “That hair,” she murmured regretfully. “I wish I had time to cut it—”

He grabbed his hair in his fist and in a blindingly fast motion drew his razor-sharp dagger through it. Tousled waves fell to his shoulders, and he tossed the mass of cut hair aside. He sheathed his knife and ran his hands through his remaining hair. “Better?”

“Much.” She glanced at the ground where a gust of wind blew the fallen strands, scattering them even as they became powdery gold. She bent to touch the glimmering dust that gilded the ground.

“Someone will wonder what this is,” she said.

“No one will notice it. The earth and the air will absorb it in moments. Even if they did not, human beings would pass it by. The aspects of an angel are hard for them to see.”

She looked up at him. “Is that why ES didn’t see your dagger? When you were wounded, I took you into the house, but I forgot the dagger at first. The ES officers shined a light right on it but didn’t seem to notice.”

Lysander nodded.

“Could you become completely invisible to them?” she asked.

“Not while I’m flesh.”

“Too bad. That would certainly make things easier.”

Lysander couldn’t fly, so if he entered into a conflict with ES officers, it wouldn’t come to an end until someone had won. No matter who that was, she would lose. She walked to the door and looked out at the street. He didn’t know the way to Ileana’s so she could take whatever circuitous route she wanted, but there was no route that would ensure that they wouldn’t come across a patrol. She needed his cooperation. “If you want to meet Ileana, you need to agree to take whatever route I choose to get to her house.”

His mouth opened a fraction and then he closed it. “I agree to follow your route…within reason.”

“Okay,” she said, peering outside again.

“But if at any point you decide to dive into the bushes for cover, don’t expect me to join you. I won’t be,” he said, sounding faintly amused.

She appraised him coolly, looking him up and down. Her gaze paused at his groin and then slowly rose to meet his eyes. “If you’d been willing to roll around in the bushes with me, I would’ve made it worth your while, but…” she trailed off with a shrug and turned back to the window.

She felt him at her back, his breath cool and sweet near her ear.

“If I had a purpose for lying in the grass, it couldn’t be considered hiding.”

She turned her head so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. His beautiful jaw was within reach of her tongue. It tempted her in the most maddening way.

“I’ll tell you what,” she whispered. “If we make it through the Etherlin without anyone seeing us, when we get back to Alissa’s house and we’re alone, you can shove me against any wall you want and do whatever you’d like. Within reason.”

His voice was husky and rough and unapologetically male when he said, “Let’s go.”

Cerise felt like a creature of the night herself. They strode through the shadows and wove through the trees. They didn’t speak, didn’t make much of a sound. Sure-footed and silent, she held his hand and gave it only the smallest press or tilt to indicate a change of direction. It was like dancing with him had been. Their bodies were very close as they moved, and yet there was no awkward bumping into each other, no tangling of feet. At moments, she felt as though she could close her eyes and walk blind, following only her instincts and the sway of their linked hands.

As the dark deepened, it tested the way they moved, but they never faltered.

Yeah, I’m the lock and he’s the key.

Twice there were officers patrolling and three times there were civilians nearby, but she and Lysander weren’t spotted even when a young couple passed within a few feet of them. Cerise leaned against a tree and pulled Lysander against her. Content to have their bodies pressed together, she and Lysander tasted each other’s mouths while the couple walked on without their gaze ever being drawn to where a muse and an archangel silently kissed.

When they reached Ileana’s, Cerise paused at the edge of the house. She glanced down to where their fingers were still intertwined, not ready to let go.

“You rival the air,” he whispered.

She tilted her head. “What does that mean?” she whispered back.

He shook his head, hesitating. “To fly, to glide, to fall through clouds…To be surrounded by nothing but air, whether the whipping winter wind or the stillness of a hot summer night, it can almost feel like being in heaven. Just walking with you, the way you move beside me, as if you were gliding on the same slipstream…I didn’t know it was possible for a woman to rival the air.”

She smiled and stepped forward, putting her free hand on the back of his neck and drawing him down. She pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss.

“Come on,” she said. “The sooner we talk to Ileana, the sooner we’ll be done talking to Ileana and can find a wall someplace private.”

He flashed a smile as they strode to the door. She rang the bell and waited. There were lights on in the second story rooms facing the street, and within moments the foyer light blinked on as well.

When the door opened, however, it was Troy rather than Ileana Rella who stood in the doorway. Troy was effortlessly handsome in his black trousers, snakeskin belt, and burgundy knit shirt. His black hair gleamed like patent leather and was perfectly styled as always.

“Hey, Cerise,” he said with an easy smile. Then his gaze settled on Lysander and the smile faded. “Who’s this?”

“He’s a friend. May we come in? I need to talk to Ileana about something.”

“Actually, she’s not here.”

Cerise nearly began asking questions about where Ileana was, but didn’t want to have the conversation while she and Lysander were standing on the stoop where any ES patrol that marched by could spot them.

“That’s a shame. Can we come in anyway?” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she opened the screen door and pressed forward.

Troy stepped back to let her inside, but his focus remained on Lysander.

“This is Lysander. Lysander, this is Troy Rella. Ileana’s brother.”

“Hello,” Troy said, nodding at Lysander, then he returned his attention to Cerise. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? A glass of wine?”

Lysander closed the door gently behind them.

“No thanks,” Cerise said, looking at Troy’s hands. Could they have been the hands that had put something in her wine? After Alissa’s warning and knowing that Troy had links to the Molly Times and to Ileana, both of which had encountered Reziel’s subject on earth, she found herself scrutinizing him in a way she never had before. “If Ileana’s out, why are you here?”

“I stopped by to water her plants.”

Cerise’s head tilted forward, a ball of unease forming in the pit of her stomach. Ileana rarely left the Etherlin. “Is she out of town?”

He nodded.

“Where is she?” Cerise asked, keeping her tone light.

Troy’s dark eyes slid sideways to follow Lysander, who had walked to the living room coffee table to look at the books of architectural photo commemoratives featuring the work of Rella aspirants through the years.

“Who is he?” Troy whispered.

“He’s a musician.”

Troy narrowed his eyes. “He’s more than that.”

“Troy, where is Ileana?”

“She’s with a new aspirant. Promising young guy she met at the architects’ expo we sponsored in Denver a few months ago.”

“Did you meet her new aspirant? What’s he like?”

“He’s talented and a pretty big flirt from what I gather. He’s too young to be more than a fling, but they seem to be having a good time together,” Troy said with a brief smile.

Lysander walked to the stone fireplace.

“Have I ever met him?” Cerise asked.

“Who? Ileana’s new aspirant?”

She nodded.

“Why would you have? You don’t travel in those circles.”

She heard something in his voice that stiffened her spine.
He’s lying.

“Has he been to the Etherlin? Maybe stayed overnight at Ileana’s building at Ionic and Temple Boulevard?”

Lysander moved the iron fireplace grate aside.

“I doubt it. I don’t think she’s even applied to get him clearance.”

Lysander leaned down, stirring the ashes with a poker.

“What are you doing?” Troy asked. When Lysander didn’t answer, Troy scowled. “Hey, Lysander is it? Do you mind?”

“Sorry. He’s a little eccentric. Do you have a number for Ileana’s new aspirant? I need to talk to her, and as usual she’s not answering her texts,” Cerise said with an indulgent smile.

Lysander straightened, setting the poker in the stand and moving the grate back to its original location.

“I don’t have a number for him. You’ll have to wait until she calls you back.”

“It’s important that I speak to her. I’ll have ES contact her security detail with a message. It’ll be easier to reach her that way. What’s the aspirant’s name by the way?”

“Listen I’ve got a lot to do tonight. I was just about to lock up. Why don’t you take your strange friend and go?”

“Sure, of course.”

Troy’s shoulders dropped, relaxing.

“Before we go, I wonder if you and I could talk for a couple of minutes about the night that Griffin died.”

Troy stiffened again. “Another time would be better for me. I’ve got some conference calls set up with the West Coast.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure another night will work for me.” She glanced at the clock. “How long until your conference calls? It’s quarter after seven. We’ve got at least fifteen minutes?” she speculated. “Or forty-five?”

Troy’s face hardened, but he nodded. “Listen, I don’t like that guy, Cerise. I want him out of Ileana’s house,” he said in a low voice. “Ask him to wait outside and I’ll be happy to sit down and have a conversation with you. I’ll be in the kitchen brewing some coffee. Meet me there when you’ve dealt with him.”

Troy stalked out of the room. Cerise crossed the living room to join Lysander, who was sifting through a bowl of spicy-scented potpourri.

“Smell any demon ash?” she whispered.

“Not so far. He didn’t give you the name of the man the other muse is spending time with,” he pointed out.

“I know. You’re a distraction. Why don’t you go upstairs
and look around? I’ll make Troy think you’re gone, then I’ll use a little muse magic to persuade him to tell me the truth about Ileana’s aspirant.”

Lysander nodded, strolling to the stairs and padding up them silently.

She walked into the kitchen and found it unoccupied. She looked around, eyes narrowing, and strode to the door. She opened it and glanced into the small television room off the kitchen. Had Troy stepped out of the room? Or out of the house?

Cerise went to the back door and pulled it open. The lit walkway was empty, but hearing a car engine, she jogged outside and around the house in time to see Ileana’s town car speed away.

“Oh, Troy, what the hell have you done?”

She yanked her phone out and powered it on. As soon as she had a signal, she called Troy’s cell. He didn’t pick up. She hadn’t expected him to.

When the call went to voice mail she said, “Hey, Troy. Not sure what’s up with you. Why don’t you call me back when you get wherever you’re bolting to? We have things to discuss, like the bad company you and Ileana may be keeping. And like what you were doing with Alissa when she and I were teenagers. Yeah, call me back. Or very soon I may not be the only one asking you questions.”

She hung up, tucked the phone in her pocket, and hurried back into the house. Ascending the stairs, she called out for Lysander.

“Here, Cerise,” he said.

Inside the enormous master bedroom, Lysander cut open a custom couch cushion. Stuffing erupted from the gaping slice as he tossed it aside and looked through the contents of a plastic packet he’d pulled from it. He dropped photographs and folded paper onto the carpet until he came to something that interested him. She moved next to him for a better look. He unfolded a sketch and raised it to his nose, inhaling, then frowned. Lowering the paper, he studied what appeared to be a charcoal sketch of a blackbird.