Fallen (5 page)

His attire made her take stock of her own. Still wearing the same blood-smeared shirt and men's jeans and boots.
She needed to do some shopping to get a feel for what women wore, and then she could assume their costume with ease. “You inviting
me
in?” she asked, feeling a bit sheepish, and that feeling was so new, she went with it and shrugged her elbow up against the wall, hands tucked in her pockets.

“Why not? You were lurking.”

“Yeah, but—” Had he been watching her? Hope not, because she was the one watching him.

Cooper strode down the hallway and called over his shoulder, “Ever hear the one about keeping one's enemies close?”

“Who said that?” Pyx wandered after him. “Some guy who took a knife in the back while his enemy was hugging him? So what's changed? Last night you were eager to put distance between us.”

“Call it a change of heart.”

“Didn't think an angel's hard glass heart was capable,” Pyx said, entering the kitchen.

The high ceilings lent a feeling of vastness. Glass-fronted cabinets and black granite countertops gave it a modern flair. Blue and green tiles backed the counter, and gleaming appliances sat here and there.

Most significant were the stained-glass windows over the sink. The doors leading into an adjoining bedroom were also intricate stained glass; the design touted flowers, trees and peacocks.

Cooper slapped a palm over his chest where Pyx knew his heart did not beat. “You pick up a lot walking the earth. Emotions. Ideas. Humility. You'll learn soon enough.”

“Oh, I picked up a great sandwich last night and a tattoo.”

“A tattoo?” Cooper smirked and wandered to the
stovetop where a delicious scent wafted. “I've got crepes with fresh bananas and Nutella. That's chocolate hazelnut spread, kind of like peanut butter, but…not.”

“Sounds fancy. You going to kill me with kindness?”

“Perhaps. So show me the tat.”

Turning and lifting the back of her shirt, Pyx displayed her artwork. Pride prickled her ego sweetly.

“A burning angel, eh?”

“You got it. Can't wait to see you burn.”

Cooper redirected his attention to the cooking. “Nice.”

Pyx plopped onto a kitchen chair and propped her boots up on another chair. She leaned an elbow on the table. “How's a guy who's only been around a few weeks afford something like this? You get a job as a gigolo in those nightclubs you frequent?”

He chuckled sarcastically. “Could if I wanted to. But, no. The owner of this apartment was looking for someone to watch it during the summer while she vacations in Greece with her lover.”

“Good for you. Haven't had to sell your body yet. I got a place, too.”

“Did you?”

“Fully furnished. Rent is paid for the month.”

She took the iPod from her pocket and switched it to video. Scanning it around the room, she recorded, for the heck of it. Zooming in on Cooper standing before the griddle, she moved the screen up and down his bare back. The muscles flexed with his motions. His skin was tan too, which appealed to her in ways she couldn't quite process.

“It's in the neighborhood, actually.”

“In the—” With a dripping spatula in hand, Cooper dashed into the nearby bedroom and looked out the window.
“The sign is down. You didn't,” he said, marching into the kitchen.

She caught video of his frustrated huff, and the splatter of crepe batter that drooled down his pant leg.

“The place across the street? But I saw you last night. How did you…? So quickly? You stole that place.”

Pyx shook the iPod at his accusing shake of spatula. “Dude, it's my nature.”

“Poor excuse. You want to fit in with the humans while you're here on earth? You're going to have to work on your morality.”

“Look at you, all high and mighty.”

His smile was neither high nor mighty. It was genuinely appealing. Pyx wondered if morals had given him that appeal. But then, she knew better. “Cruising the clubs for booty doesn't sound so moral to me.”

“It is the human condition to seek comfort in one another.”

“Comfort.” Pyx snorted. “So that's what they're calling it nowadays.”

He set a plate before her. A folded crepe hung over the edge. “You like bananas and chocolate?”

“Don't know. I've never tried them.” She accepted the proffered fork and poked the delicious-looking delicacy. Brown, sweet spread oozed out. “You learned to cook in a few weeks? I shouldn't admit it, but I am impressed. I thought the Fallen just stalked about looking for muses to bed.”

He poured batter on a wide griddle, his back to her. Every movement flexed the muscles. Strength, that was the appeal. Strength wrapped in warm human flesh that Pyx suspected would feel great if she touched.

“Did you hear me? I said—”

“I heard you,” he said, not turning around. “I choose not to dignify that remark with an answer.”

“Oh, so you're one of those respectable angels who fell?”

“And you're one of those annoying Sinistari.”

Touché. Well, if the shoe fit, she'd try it on and kick some ass with it. Thinking of which…she needed some more feminine shoes. But the high-heeled travesties she'd seen looked like a form of torture she'd rather avoid.

Pyx forked in a mouthful. Nummy. Oh, man! Chocolate rocked. And bananas, too. All oozing together. What a divine creation. Oops. Divinity had nothing to do with this meal. This was all about sinful deliciousness.

Minutes later, Cooper joined her with a folded crepe and sat down. Licking the chocolate from his thumb, he then dug in heartily. Pyx had already downed half her breakfast.

“I wouldn't think this combination could work,” she commented. “Bananas and chocolate?”

“Sort of like angels and demons breaking their fast together, eh?”

“Yes, sort of.” Was she seriously here, doing…this?

He didn't seem the least disturbed by her presence. The angel should be. The guy was one stab in the heart away from oblivion.

Pyx devoured another gooey, hot bite of crepe, and while she chewed, drew out her blade and placed it nonchalantly on the table beside her.

The Fallen smirked. “I don't intimidate easily.”

“I'm just setting it there. It's big and gets in the way.”

“I have something that's big and gets in the way.”

She caught his waggling lift of brow, but didn't understand. Angels. They thought they were so clever.

With a flick of Cooper's fingers her dagger slid across
the table toward him. Pyx slapped a hand over the weapon and slid it back. “Fancy party tricks are for amateurs.” He relented.

“So I understand you demons name your blades,” he prompted. “Something ominous like Angel Killer or Death Bringer. What's yours called?”

She fingered the black steel hilt of the blade. Forged from materials unknown, the blade had been made before she had and then matched to her after she had been forged Sinistari from the earth's metals.

“Joe,” she said, and forked in another bite of crepe.

“Joe?” The angel laughed. It was a deep, rumbly sound that made Pyx smile around a mouthful of banana. “Oh, that's rich. I'm being pursued by the vicious demon Pixy and her faithful blade Joe.”

Pyx wielded Joe in a blink. She bent before Cooper a blink later, the blade cutting into the flesh under his chin.

“It's Pyx,” she said sharply. “And I'll thank you to respect my friend Joe here or he'll get sloppy and spill angel blood on your fancy pancake.”

“You cut me, I will retaliate.”

She remained before him, testing the blade against his soft and easily damaged mortal flesh. His dark eyes challenged her to go for it. Draw the blade and spill blood. She could do it. She should do it to prove she wasn't about to back down, no matter his disturbing charm.

The cut wouldn't kill him; she had to pierce his heart to bring death. And the blade could not penetrate his hard glass heart unless he was shifted to half form, which usually only happened when the angel was attempting his muse.

Had she ever seen that color of blue before? It rimmed his gray eyes. When she'd been summoned she had initially
only seen the world in black and white. Until she'd walked the world, taking it all in, breathing in its languages, customs and pastimes.

Wow. There was something in his eyes. A bright reflection of…a hard and ruthless warrior? Whatever it was in his eyes, it was of the angelic dominions.

He moved swiftly. The blade clattered on the hardwood floor before Pyx realized she'd dropped it. His lips connected with hers. He bracketed her head with his palms, not pressing too roughly, but keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

It was a kiss. A strange, surprising kiss. Rough and fast. But sweet from the chocolate that whispered from his mouth and into hers.

Pyx had not before been kissed. What was a kiss for? It didn't fill the belly, or provide clothes, or gain material goods. And yet, it was definitely interesting.

And it was being issued by a Fallen one. To a Sinistari. How many ways of wrong was that?

It didn't feel wrong. Felt kind of tingly and exciting.

Cooper swept his tongue across hers. A giddy sparkle radiated in Pyx's belly—until he pushed her away and stepped across the room. Hand to a hip, he turned, head tilted downward, and gazed at her.

“What the hell was that for?” She swiped her mouth with the back of her hand, forcing out her most pissed tone. “That's not how you disarm an opponent.”

“Oh, no?” He toed Joe and kicked it across the floor toward her boot. “Looks like it worked. You've never been kissed before?”

“I just came to earth a day ago. What do you think?”

“I think…” He stalked over on his bare feet, his movements sensual and silent like some kind of wild cat Pyx had seen stalking the Tibetan forests during her walk
of the world. Tilting up her chin, he brushed the hair from her face. “That means you are a virgin. A strange situation for a Sinistari to be in when she should be indulging in lust. Want another one?”

The sparkle still hummed in her belly. “Kiss?”

He smirked. “No, a crepe.”

“Neither.” Pyx jumped to stand and, arms arched out and ready to strike, she instead looked about. Not sure what to do. How to react. Joe lay against her boot. Bending for it would put her in a position not conducive to defense.

The angel had served her a move she hadn't expected. And she was still processing the delicious taste of him, and the startling sensation of his mouth upon hers. It was a hell of a lot better than the crepe, and she had loved the crepe.

And the smile on his face bothered her. He felt he'd gained advantage in this round. Had he?

“I gotta go.” She swept up Joe.

“Giving up before you've cleaned your plate?” he called as she headed down the hallway.

“Not on your life. I want to make sure the vampires aren't hanging around outside.”

“They're not after me.”

“They're not after me!” she shouted.

“If that's what you want to believe. It's day. Vampires don't do sunlight, do they?”

Pyx didn't turn to look at him. She knew he brandished a triumphant smirk like some kind of scalp claimed in battle. “Read your Stoker. Most vampires can go out during the day. I'll be back.”

“I do hope you will be.”

She stalked to the front door and strode through, leaving it open behind her.

All right, one point for the Fallen. That meant she had
to regroup and figure things out. Like how to play against someone who doesn't know the rules.

And what, exactly, would her defensive move be should he lay another of those delicious kisses on her?

P
yx wandered aimlessly. She needed to put a plan in order. If the Fallen wasn't interested in finding his muse then she may have to find the muse and bring her to him.

How in Beneath would she recognize a woman even the Fallen wouldn't know until he got right next to her? And if what he'd said was true, he wasn't anywhere near her right now.

“Shouldn't be my job. Why is this Fallen able to resist the compulsion to his muse?”

The Sinistari were usually summoned right before the moment when the Fallen would attempt its muse. Demon arrives with sharp, pointy blade. Shoves it in the Fallen's heart. Muse saved. No nephilim is born. Deed done.

“Do others of my breed have this same problem?”

She wasn't going to think
because I'm a woman.
But she did consider her past mishap. She'd walked the earth in complete demon form then, so that didn't apply now.

“Well, I can handle it.”

She shrugged up the tight-fitting blue jean coat she'd purchased from a woman's store. The wrists were trimmed with thick fox fur. Along the sleeves the fabric was tugged together military-style with gold buttons and chains. She'd exchanged her male jeans for some skin-hugging black leather pants. The sales clerk had tried to convince her a corset would look stunning on her but Pyx had opted for a comfortable gray T-shirt. High heels had looked a bit dangerous, so she'd opted for a two-inch heel on some pointy-toed black crocodile ankle boots.

She could have easily assumed the costume with a thought, but the shopping part had been—fun. And it had given her clues to what women wore.

She wasn't sure about the makeup thing, but the sales clerk had directed her to the cosmetics department where a commando clerk had attacked her with a free makeover, brushing, spraying and stroking on various types of smelly products. Now Pyx toted a bag full of more smelly stuff with the promise it would enhance her ability to attract a man.

“As long as the man is Fallen,” she muttered. “And not a bloodsucker.”

She veered down a street before a grand railway station and read the name of the building. “The Gare du Nord.” Hundreds of people filed in and out, destined for other cities, or returning from trips.

“Try Germany,” she called to a passing family of five lugging suitcases. “The schnitzel is awesome.”

The father shuffled his kids away from her as if she'd said something obscene. Pyx just smiled. She nicked a wallet from the back pocket of a man arguing with his
girlfriend and inspected the contents as her path led her away from the busy area.

A hundred euros and a bunch of credit cards. She picked out the gold credit card because she liked it best, then tossed the wallet into a nearby trash can.

Eyeing a restaurant across the street that advertised wine from the Rhône river valley and fresh scallops, Pyx was distracted by a shadow moving across the street. It had been a blur, a person moving much more swiftly than mortals were capable of doing.

Feeling a twinge of instinct, Pyx decided food could wait. Striding onward, bag full of makeup banging against her hip, she angled toward the alley where she'd seen the blur go.

At the end of the alley she noticed it again. It stopped long enough so she could plainly see it was a man. He exposed fangs and chuckled, then took off to the right.

Stuffing the credit card in a back pocket, she took off after him. He moved in a zigzag pattern farther away from the city center. Eventually he blurred into a brick building where all the lower windows had been broken out.

Pyx stomped across broken glass and debris of boards into the darkness. “Here, bloody vampire. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

She shoved off her jacket and tossed it aside, dropping her bag of makeup on top. Cracking her knuckles, she strode to the center of the empty three-story room. “You wanted me to follow? Well, here I am!”

Slammed bodily from the side, Pyx took the brunt force of the vampire's hefty frame with ease. She twisted at the waist and pushed him away from her. The vampire stepped through the shove, circling toward her and chuckling
maniacally. His blue eyes were bloodshot, and his thin lips curled.

Did he think a little flash of fang was going to intimidate her?

Pyx didn't have to touch him; she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She made a shoving-away gesture through the air before her. The vampire gasped and went flying, his shoulders hitting the wall, but he landed on both feet and immediately marked a determined stride toward her.

“You're strong for a girl,” he said.

“Yeah? You're an idiot for a vampire. Oh, wait. All vampires are idiots. My bad.”

She waited for him to charge and took the impact full force, his shoulders barreling into her chest. Okay, that one hurt. Felt like something broke, but her insides were metal so that couldn't be. Still, this mortal flesh was too damned tender.

The two of them stumbled, Pyx backward, the vampire pushing her. They landed on the concrete floor in a grappling roll. He managed to kick her in the gut, which hurt even more. She punched his jaw, which sent spittle of crimson puddling across the floor.

“Don't you know what I am?” she demanded, furious this insolent creature dared not show her the reverence she deserved.

“Sinistari.” He jumped up and brushed the dust from his leather coat sleeves. “I'm not much for demons. You do not deserve the respect you demand.”

“We are the kings of the demon realm,” she stated, defying him with the entitlement. She snatched Joe from the sheath under her arm—no matter the new clothing, she never went anywhere without Joe. “You will die for your insolence.”

“Whatever. You look more a princess than a king. Your lipstick is smeared.”

Pyx touched her mouth. Really? But the color she'd chosen was so pretty….

The vampire pulled out a gun and fired.

Pyx took the bullet in her shoulder. It burned like hell's fire, but it was not going to kill her.

And if the vampire didn't watch it, he'd piss her off. And she did not play well when pissed. She swiped at the corner of her mouth, frustrated more by the greasy smear of red.

Screw the lipstick.

“Why are you playing with me? Got an itch you need to scratch, buddy? Just to let you know, I don't do bloodsuckers.”

“I wouldn't touch your damned ass with haz-mat gloves on,” the vampire replied.

Pyx lifted a brow, fighting a wince from the pain. “Anyone ever tell you that charm will get you a stake in the heart?” Not that she'd remembered to bring along a stake…

“It's my business to keep an eye on you, Sinistari.” He waved the gun menacingly. “Keep you away from the Fallen one.”

“So it was me those idiot vamps were after last night?” And here she'd been sure it was Cooper.

“You and the Fallen. You catch sight of the muse yet?” he asked as he paced before her. A swipe of his sleeve wiped the blood from his mouth, leaving a smear she figured resembled her mouth.

“If I had seen a muse, I wouldn't tell you. I'm tired of this conversation. You need to be gone.”

She flung out her hand, directing her energy toward the
vamp, but he ducked and managed to fire the gun again. This time the bullet pierced her outstretched hand.

Pyx gripped the searing pain. “Now you've pissed me off.”

Letting out a throaty growl, she began to shed her mortal costume with a shake of her shoulders. The Sinistari were forged from fluid metal as sinuous as flesh but stronger than any known mortal substance. They were virtually indestructible, unless a stronger opponent faced them down.

Vampires were not stronger.

The shift complete, she stood a head higher than when in mortal costume. Her black metal body pulsed with the vicious desire to do some damage. Tightening her fists and twisting her horned head, Pyx eyed the vampire.

The bastard didn't even flinch. In fact, he smiled and tore open his shirt to reveal a tattoo emblazoned across his abdomen. From waist to under his nipples a bizarre sketch of ancient sigils covered every inch of flesh.

Demon wards. And it looked as if he wore a sigil for every demon that stalked this realm and all the other realms.

The vampire wasn't an idiot after all.

“Points for you,” Pyx growled.

She felt the ward's repulsive force scream out toward her and shiver within her metallic frame. It squealed, high-pitched and sharp. The noise was unbearable.

Clamping a hand over one ear, she struggled to face her opponent, but knew it was fruitless. Pyx turned, snatched her coat and bag with a talon, and ran. Before she reached the door, she flashed…

…and landed in her apartment living room, naked and resumed of mortal flesh.

“That vampire was not playing fair,” she muttered,
pressing her forehead into the soft fur edging the coat sleeves. “And he's after me.”

And if properly warded, which he had been, he stood a chance at defeating her.

“Damn it. I've got to find that bloody muse, and quick, before he comes back.”

 

Cooper wasn't sure why vampires were tracking him, but he wasn't about to stand with arms wide open and welcome them to do as they pleased. It wasn't smart to rip out their hearts when an innocent bystander may witness—not to mention the mess—but damn, it had felt good.

He had to be careful. If this realm were to become his permanent home, he must learn to play by the rules, and respect mortals.

But that didn't mean he had to play nice with the vampires.

Elbows to the glass counter, he looked over the bowie knives as the store owner observed him. This little shop was tucked in the fifth arrondissement at the end of a street that catered to tourists with video stores and T-shirt shops.

“The handle is pure silver,” the owner said. “Pretty thing, isn't she?”

Cooper stabbed the weapon into the wooden beam stretched floor to ceiling, designed for such purpose. He knew a blade wouldn't stop a vampire, but it might slow one down.

What he needed was a fancy stake like Pyx had sported. But he suspected she wasn't the type to share, unless he begged. And put chocolate and bananas on top.

He did love her appetite. But that was obviously the gluttony shining through. If the girl weren't careful she might have to let out her snug-fitting leather pants a bit.

On the other hand, eat away, pretty demon. It may slow her down if he ever did stumble across his muse.

“You have any crosses?”

The owner tilted his head quizzically. “There's a religious shop down the street,” he said, pointing. “You buying that?”

“Yes.” Cooper laid the knife on the glass counter. “And give me a couple of those, too.” He gestured to the fourpointed throwing stars on the wall behind the counter.

“That'll be seven-hundred-fifty,” the owner said, sliding the weapons toward him.

Cooper placed his palm on the owner's forehead and put into his mind the image of him handing over a stack of euro notes. After he'd berated Pyx for stealing the apartment, he should look to his own actions and stop throwing stones. Yet he had no means to employment or an ID card or driver's license. He was off the grid and intended to remain so until he'd found his halo.

It wasn't stealing when he planned to use the weapons to destroy something that could harm or even kill humans.

Tucking the blade at the back of his jeans and the stars in the pockets of his black wool pea coat, Cooper walked out onto the sidewalk and almost tripped over a spunky redhead.

Pyx hooked her arm in his and together they went down the sidewalk. Perky ponytails sprang out at either side of her head. Rouge brightened her cheeks and gloss shimmered on her lips. She smelled…fruity.

“Is this a date?” he asked.

“No, it's a walkby kidnapping. I'm taking you to find your muse.”

“Ain't gonna happen, Pretty in Pink. I haven't sensed her at all in Paris. That's why I'm here. What's with the fur?”

“I like this jacket. It's fun. And so is the pink T-shirt. It's a girl color, isn't it?” she asked with strange hope.

“You trying to be feminine? Why is it so difficult for you?”

“I don't know. It's just…weird. How would you feel if you suddenly had these?” She cupped her breasts.

Cooper whistled. “I think they'd feel pretty good. Can I touch?”

“No. I mean, it's taking time to adjust. But I thought the lipstick a good move.” She pursed her lips and puckered like a fish. “You think?”

“Watch who you make that face at, Pyx, you just may find a boyfriend.”

“No time for that stuff.”

“There's always time for letting others into your heart.”

“Didn't you used to be some kind of warrior?”

He felt the dig all the way to his gut. Yes, a warrior on a path of righteous glory. Such glory is never pretty.

“You've softened, buddy,” Pyx continued. “Letting people into your heart? Our hearts are adamant and they don't beat.”

“Just because the blood doesn't flow in and out doesn't mean we can't feel.”

“Says the guy who ripped out a vampire's heart without a second thought last night.”

“That was different. You don't want to go and fall in love with a bloodsucker.”

And he suspected Pyx could feel emotion too, because right now she was uncertain about his mention of boyfriends and hearts. She was experiencing the same emotions all mortals felt. It was impossible not to when treading earth. Compassion and empathy and love and admiration were weird though, he had to admit.

Violence had always come easily to him. Still did. Only
now he must take a second to think it through before doing something rash, and usually that second changed his mind. It never would have before, when he'd served the angelic ranks.

That had been his past. Violence and aggression was the one part of humanity he despised. If he wanted to move ahead, he had to embrace a new mindset.