Fallen (9 page)

“Bet it’s not as bad as ‘sugar tits,’ ” she mumbled.

Rolling over, I propped my head up with my hand, feigning offense. “Hey, that was a compliment.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Uh-huh. Goodnight, Gabriel,” as she rolled away from me.

Chapter Seventeen

Sunday, January 17th

GABRIEL

The scent of coconut filled my nose as I slowly pushed past the last few layers of hazy sleep and awoke. I was on my back, with something warm pressed into my side and draped across me. 

My eyelids fluttered open to see Emily nestled against me, her arm wrapped around my stomach, her head resting on my chest, rising and falling with each breath I took. Her dark hair fanned over my chest, tickling my neck, and I felt her leg draped over mine. You know what else I felt? Her breasts—mashed against my ribs and separated only by the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Oh, and my raging hard-on. Felt that, too, trapped right under her thigh.

How the hell did we end up like this? And why the hell was I still here? I’d had every intention of leaving right after she fell asleep. So why hadn’t I? Last thing I remembered was watching her side rise and fall as her breathing leveled out…

Damn it, did I really fall asleep
watching her sleep
? What kind of lame shit was
that
?

She shifted in her sleep, moaning as her leg hitched up, then down, practically stroking my cock. I bit my lip to keep quiet as my hand fisted the sheet.

Fuck. Me. 

I had to get out of here before she molested me in her sleep again.

Painstakingly slow, I removed my entangled body from hers, then hauled ass out of there before she could wake up. I wasn’t sure how she’d react if she knew I’d spent the whole night with her. Hell, I wasn’t sure how
I
felt about it. 

Waking up alone in a cold bed was horribly depressing. Like I
needed
to feel any worse than I already did. My chest ached as I reached out and touched the empty side of the bed. It was the same side Thomas slept on—

I pushed the thought away and got out of bed, otherwise I’d start crying, and then I’d
never
get out of bed. As I stretched, I wondered when Gabriel had left. Surely it wasn’t long after I fell asleep. I bet all my crying in the last day had freaked him out enough. He wouldn’t want to stick around for a girly game of “sleepover” too.

The rich scent of coffee hung in the air, and my stomach rumbled. Motivated by something other than not wanting to wallow in bed, I pulled open the bottom dresser drawer, relieved to see normal-looking bras and panties. Grabbing a matching white cotton set, I closed the drawer and took off my shirt. I slid the bra on, surprised to find that it actually fit. Chucking my pants, the panties went on next.

After getting redressed, I headed for the kitchen. I cut through the living room, squinting from the afternoon sun pouring in through the wall of glass. The kitchen came into view as I rounded the corner, as did Gabriel’s naked upper half. 

Oh my
—

I’d been too distracted last night to notice he’d come in without a shirt, but here, in the light of day… Well, you could see everything. Every dip and curve of lean muscle under pale, flawless skin, the light dusting of hair under his navel—

I dropped my eyes as shame flooded me. I shouldn’t be ogling him. I shouldn’t be ogling anybody, I was—

Single. I’m
single
now, remember?

The painful reminder didn’t make me feel any better about being attracted to him. If anything, it made me feel worse. Here I was, not even two days after leaving my boyfriend, and I couldn’t stop staring at Gabriel. My heart might’ve been broken, but my body hadn’t gotten the memo, apparently.

Ignoring how low his pajama pants sat, and how he looked softer—
younger
, even—with his brown hair stuck up in disarrayed patches of bed head, I waltzed into the kitchen, keeping my head high and eyes straight ahead.

My back reflexively straightened as Emily entered the kitchen. It was surreal to have a girl here for my morning routine, to have her see me…like
this
. I cleared my throat and said, “Morning.”

Damn, she put on a bra.

“Good morning… Uh, where are your glasses?” 

I pointed to the cupboard over the coffee maker. She reached up and opened the door, pulling down a tall glass. After filling it with tap water, she took a sip. 

Her coloring was better, and the rings under her eyes weren’t as severe. “You look much better,” I said, refilling my coffee cup.

“Thank you.” She set her drink on the island, and turned to open the fridge, frowning at what she saw. “Don’t you have any—”

The strange look quickly vanished as she snapped her mouth shut. I was behind her a second later, peering into the fridge as well. There were several packages of ground beef and some cups of pig’s blood, but that was it. “What are you looking for? Would you like something besides beef?”

She jumped and slid out from her spot between me and the fridge, absently reaching for her glass. “No, beef is—”

“Watch out—”

It was too late. She’d knocked the cup off the counter and it shattered as it collided with the floor.

“Shit!” she muttered, bending down to pick up the shards as I grabbed some paper towels. I bent down across from her, soaking up the mess. 

She reached for another piece, but quickly hissed in a breath as she snatched her hand back, inspecting the pad of her finger as a drop of red welled up from nowhere. “Damn it.”

What the…?

I dropped the wet paper towel and grabbed Emily’s hand, blood oozing out of her cut from the increase in pressure. “You’re
bleeding
.” My mind raced as I tried to process what my eyes were seeing. This was impossible. We didn’t bleed. “How…?” 

My eyes flicked up to meet her equally surprised stare. 

What do I do?

My heart thundered so hard it echoed in my ears, and my body screamed at me to do something,
anything
, before I became paralyzed with fear.

One shallow breath left me. Then another.

I shoved Gabriel back with everything in me and took off, running faster than I ever had through his apartment. My acute hearing, heightened even more with the rush of adrenaline, heard him scramble up and run after me.

Shitshitshit, where do I go?

Bursting into my bedroom, I ran for the bathroom, stopping only to lock the door behind me, though I knew it would only slow him down for a second, if that. I crossed the bathroom and went for the window over the tub. Fumbling with the lock, I snapped my head around when he banged on the bathroom door. 

“Open the door, Em, I just want to talk.”

Yeah, right, and I’m the fucking Queen of England.

The window finally gave way (because I smashed it), and I hitched one leg over the window sill, ducking my head as the bathroom door splintered apart. Gabriel charged in, his angry stare landing on me halfway out the window. I lifted my other leg, praying to God it wasn’t a straight shot to the ground seven-stories below, and prepared to launch myself.

His arm wrapped around my waist before I could get anywhere, yanking me back inside as he threw me on the ground. My back smacked against the tile with a sickening thud, the air rushing out of me on impact. 

Get up, get up! Push through the pain!

It was a miracle that I was able to stand, and I staggered a few feet before getting tackled to the ground from behind, his body shifting so that he took the brunt of the fall. Rolling me onto my back, he pinned my wrists above my head. 

His eyes were wild as he said, “I
told
you, I just wanted to talk.”

I thrashed underneath him, bucking my hips as I tried to fight him. “
Get off!
”

He pinned my lower half with his hips, his erection pushing into my thigh. I gasped and stilled, feeling his breath on my ear. His stubble grazed my cheek as he rasped, “I like it when they run, remember?”

My eyes slid closed and I swallowed. “What do you want?” I
hated
that my voice came out shaky.

He shifted and I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me, his eyes intent. “I want you to tell me what the hell is going on.”

My mouth pressed into hard line. “If I do, will you get off me?”

“Only if you promise not to run.”

“
Fine
,” I ground out. “I promise. Now
get off
.”

He climbed off me and sat on the lip of the bathtub, folding his hands in his lap as he blocked my path to freedom. 

I paced around the bathroom, gnawing on my thumbnail as my heart and mind raced. Thomas warned me to be careful about this, and here I was, bleeding all over the place, when apparently, Feeders didn’t bleed. How could I be so stupid? I
knew
they couldn’t get cut. Thomas had said so himself. So why the hell couldn’t I remember something so integral to my own species? I mean, Jesus, my life depended on playing the part right, and I’d just up and forgotten my line in front of a packed house.

“Just spit it out, Em. You’re making me nervous.”

Humorless laughter bubbled out of me. “
You’re
 nervous? I’m about to sign my own death warrant over here. You should try feeling one iota of what I am right now.”

His frown deepened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I sighed and stopped in front of him. “What do you know about me? About my parents?”

He shrugged. “I know your mother, Vivienne—”

“And what about my father? What do you know about him?”

His eyes dropped, and a slight wince twisted his features as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit. I, uh, probably should’ve mentioned this sooner, but… He’s my boss, Em. He’s the one who assigned me to you.”

I froze. “What?” 

That was impossible. My father was a Healer. He
had
to be. That was the only explanation. So he couldn’t possibly have been Gabriel’s boss…right?

I glanced down at my finger. There was no cut, just dried blood.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said. “I should’ve said something—”

“Your boss is a Feeder, right?”

“Of course.” He said it slow, like I’d lost my mind for even having to ask. Maybe I had.

I held my unscathed finger up for him to see. “Well, my father’s not.”

Chapter Eighteen

GABRIEL

I stared at Emily’s finger, at the unmarred pale skin under her dried blood. How was that possible? She’d been cut. I
saw
it.

Then her words pierced through my WTF fog, and it made sense…sort of. Her father wasn’t a Feeder, which meant… “You’re a
crossbreed
?”

I thought those were mythical. Like the Easter Bunny, or Santa.

Awe-struck, I stood, looking down at her like I was seeing her for the first time. I reached up to stroke her cheek, and she flinched. 

Frowning, I reassessed the situation, seeing her wide eyes locked on me. Her body trembled. It was then that I noticed it, and for the life of me, I don’t know how I’d missed it: she was terrified of me. The lemony scent of her fear was so thick, I thought I might choke.