Hardest Fall

by Juliette Cross

  “Wolfrick’s right,” said Axel. “We’ve been expelled from the circle of power players.”

  I took another two gulps of the Glenlivet and set it on the side table.

  “But”—he raised a finger, the one with a silver skull ring—“I think I know someone who may give me the information.”

  “Who?” asked Xander.

  Axel grinned. “We may play together, demon hunter, but I’ll not hand up my sources. Suffice it to say, he runs many of the fighting pits in Germany, and is still well-connected.”

  I blew out a strained breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Then Axel leveled his gaze on me.

  “But it’ll cost you.”

  “How much? I’ve got a bag of drakuls from Rook that should cover it.”

  He waved a hand like he was swatting a fly and laughed. “No. I want something rarer and more precious than that.”

  Xander stiffened at my side, but he didn’t know that Axel would never ask for sex from me. We’d known each other so very long, and we’d only ever been friends. And though I was sure he would take me if I offered, I’d never offer.

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “A song.”

  Rolling my eyes, I actually smiled. I should’ve known. He’d been trying to get me back on stage with him for ages. I’d played a short stint as their vocalist when I’d had a whim to try and enjoy myself. When I’d let Axel coax me into it. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. For me, singing was more than music. The seraph song always wanted to rise up through my voice and speak to the masses, weave and inspire and sway them in her direction. But that only reminded me of what I’d once been and why I’d left that life behind. The pain was too great to relive, even in those brief moments on the stage.

  “Come on, Bone.” He leaned forward and winked. “Just one song, and I’ll find out from my source exactly what you need.”

  Xander hadn’t said a word, just sat there and waited.

  I sighed. “Fine.” Wolfrick and Gustav laughed with glee. Yes, with actual glee—the dark, monster kind of glee. Axel clapped his hands together, and I specified, “But I get to choose the song.”

  Axel leaped to his feet, far happier than he should have been for something as simple as a song. Then again, it was not just a song. He wanted my seraph magic to sing through me, wanted to hear that sound again. And I’d let him hear it. I glanced at Xander, whose typically casual expression was more intense and fixed as he stared back.

  “Let’s go!” shouted Axel.

  “Now?” I asked.

  “Fuck, yes.” He laughed. “I’m not giving you the chance to back out of it. Payment now, then I’ll find out what you need to know about Rook.”

  “Oh, hell.” I grabbed the Glenlivet and tilted the bottle back, guzzling, before slamming it back down for the last time. Standing, I wiped my now-sweaty palms on my jeans. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Xander

  She had left her jacket on a stool at the bottom of the stage. The crowd had grown while we’d been in Axel’s private lounge. I merged into the throng, finding a comfortable spot to the shadowy right of the stage but close enough to get a good view.

  I’d found Maddie in that crumbling hovel where she’d survived all alone because I’d heard her singing. It was a lullaby, an old Irish song I’d once heard while traveling across Ireland in the mid-1800s. I was hunting a particular pack of nasty demons masquerading as highwaymen and attacking nobles as they crossed the country. The lullaby was about hearth and home and was sung by a bar wench at an inn. Typical Irish song—forlorn and nostalgic. But when I’d heard Maddie sing the same tune, it stopped me in my tracks. Not only because there should be no child singing in the ruins of London, but because the song pierced me straight to the heart. I knew then that she was an otherworlder. Uriel confirmed my suspicions that she was Nephilim—half angel, half human. He’d said it was evident that her seraph song was trying to come out, but it was only a fraction of what it could be.

  Knowing this, that Maddie’s hauntingly beautiful voice was only half its potential, had me mesmerized at the very thought of hearing Carowyn sing in her full seraph glory. For I knew that when Axel asked for a song in payment, that was what he wanted, not just a pretty voice.

  Axel ambled up to the mic, a guitar slung over his shoulder.

  “We’ve got a special treat for you tonight, underworld lovers.” He glanced over at Carowyn as she sidled up next to him, exhaling a deep breath. “You may have heard of the badass metal bender and the best damn forger of steel in heaven or hell, Bone.” A few gasps and more whistles. “Well, here she is. And I doubt you’ll see her on stage again. So let’s welcome Bone for a single performance of”—he angled his face toward hers—“what are you singing, beautiful?”

  She said the words, but she wasn’t close enough to hear through the mic. Axel chuckled and announced to the audience. “Paint It Black.”

  Catcalls and applause welcomed her front and center in a spotlight. She shouted something back to Gustav and Wolfrick. They nodded and waited for her to start. Then she gripped the handle of the mic with both hands, her fingers curling tight, her lips close to the mouthpiece. My body automatically stiffened. I felt that grip way down low. I shifted myself. Fuck, she hadn’t even sung a word.

  Without her jacket, the myriad swirling and colorful tattoos in intricate designs roped both toned arms from the wrist up and beyond the tank. The interlacing knots that wove from her breasts and stopped at her collarbone had a gap between the knotwork, and something else edged just above the tank where her cleavage was on display. Her body, her ink-and-mocha skin, was utterly captivating. But her voice…that was a level all its own.

  She started to hum into the mic, setting the rhythm for a slower, sexier version of the Rolling Stones classic. I’d heard it on my Pandora station once by the American artist, Ciara. Wolfrick, Gustav, and Axel started playing in time to the tempo she set. When she started to sing, my entire body clenched tight, holding fast.

  They weren’t just words. This wasn’t just music. This was magic and power and beauty sliding into the air like a carpet of dreams. The audience swayed in unison, hypnotized by her voice. I understood. Wholly and completely.

  Then she turned to me, singing about looking inside herself and finding a black heart. Her golden gaze shimmered with the power, the magic spilling from within, pouring into the room in a wave of heartbreaking, haunting sound. It locked on to me, compelling me to understand what was happening. Not just in this room, but inside the woman, the demoness and former angel, standing on the stage in a pool of light, looking like a goddess over her supplicants.

  She picked the wrong song. She tried too hard to convince me she was beyond redemption, that she was too far into the darkness. She sang the chorus louder, making the room shake with her hypnotic song. Two or three people fainted toward the front of the stage. She kept singing, her voice rising, willing me to understand she was beyond saving, beyond a world where hope lived.

  I shook my head, refusing her melodious plea. I understood all too well now. She wanted to be painted black, wanted her heart to sink into the unknown darkness where nothing could touch or hurt her anymore. She might want and wish for the empty gloom, but her heart wanted the light. Even as her voice vibrated in my chest till my whole body resonated with seraph song, I watched her and smiled, knowing good and well what I now must do. My heart hammered hard and strong as if it recognized her soul and wholeheartedly agreed.

  As she finished the final chorus, her words cracking with emotion, she closed her eyes and hummed the final few strains into the mic, gripping the handle with both hands once more. Bringing the pulse of seraph magic back inside her body and soul. Waves still whispered in the air, as the throng of fans swayed and cheered until she finally stepped back from the microphone.

  Axel edged in front of her and grabbed the mic. “Let’s hear it for Bone!”

  A roar of applause shook up to t
he rafters. She said something as she passed him. He smirked over his shoulder, still close to the mic.

  “I know, I know. A deal is a deal.”

  Then he and his boys launched into “Welcome to the Jungle,” sending the crowd into a frenzy. But my focus was falcon sharp, narrowing in on Carowyn’s clenched jaw, upward-tilted chin, and defiant gait. Not no, but fuck no was she going to get away this time. She’d thrown down the gauntlet with her dark serenade, rebelling against everything I stood for and against her own heart. I understood what it wanted better than she did.

  I waited at the bottom of the stairs. She was halfway down before she slowed her steps, seeing in my eyes something that made her hesitate. Too late. She stopped on the third step from the floor.

  Caught in those amber eyes, I simply stared, enjoying the feverish moment before I planned to put my mouth on hers. Enjoying the anxious shift of her weight from one leg to the other and the way her frown deepened when my smile spread wider.

  If she thought that song would finally ward me off, once and for all, she was sadly mistaken. If anything, it only confirmed what I already knew to be true. She wasn’t truly lost…just frozen in her walled-off field of neutrality. Well, I was about to break down her fucking walls and show her what I thought of her bloody plea to paint her world black.

  With preternatural speed, I gripped her waist and pressed her to the wall behind me, off the ground, at my eye level. She gasped and gripped my shoulders. With a deft move, I palmed her thighs and lifted them around my waist, seating myself at her core.

  “Xander,” she huffed on a breath, her hazel eyes on my lips.

  The wall was crumbling. I knew it when the tip of her finger slid over the collar of my sweater and caressed the nape of my neck. I could see her willing herself to let go, to push me away, to keep her barricades in place. On a deep inhale, she sharpened her gaze on mine, trying to fortify herself against me. I pressed close, chest to chest, mouth a hair’s breadth from hers, and pierced her with my intent, tilting my head with one slow cant.

  “No,” I ground out, barely brushing against her full, luscious lips.

  She didn’t reply, her breath becoming mine as I inhaled. Sliding one hand beneath her heavy fall of hair, I gripped her nape and tilted her chin up with my thumb, repeating only, “No.” Telling her what I thought of her intent to drown in the darkness. Alone. It wasn’t going to happen. And she knew it.

  “Why?” she asked, voice trembling.

  “Because I want you, Carowyn. And I don’t bed women who have no soul.” I stroked my thumb down the underside of her jaw toward her throat, then squeezed her outer thigh where I still had an iron grip. “Because you’re not meant for the lonely darkness.”

  Her breath coming fast now, she asked, “What am I meant for?”

  Sliding my thumb farther down to the base of her throat, I pressed till I felt her pulse then bit her bottom lip, letting it slide out slowly from between my teeth before I answered.

  “Me.”

  It came out feral and predator-deep, pounding into my DNA where she gripped me on the basest of levels. It should’ve been a warning, for I’d prided myself on my self-control over the many years I’d walked this earth as a hunter. I’d not made the same mistakes I did as the foolish, self-serving prick I was when I was human. But this former angel, who wielded her voice like a weapon and walked this earth like a queen, who’d mended my heart with little more than a breath and a song, had sunk her claws in deep. And I didn’t give a fuck if I bled out from it.

  I crushed my mouth to hers, stroking my tongue inside and tasting my dark goddess for the first time. Bloody hell. It wouldn’t be the last. Rocking my pelvis up, I ground against her hot sex. She sank her nails into my shoulders and rocked back, stroking against my hard cock.

  “God,” I mumbled, nipping her bottom lip before going in again.

  Kissing her deep, I moaned as laser lights flashed and music pounded hard and underworlders screamed and danced just feet away. I didn’t give a damn if the whole world watched or if it suddenly caught fire—I wasn’t taking my lips off this woman and the sweetest fucking mouth I’d ever tasted. I slid my hand up her thigh to cup her ass as I ground into her. She moaned, and I thought I’d lose my bloody mind.

  She fisted her fingers in my hair and pulled my mouth to hers, sliding her sweet tongue inside and flicking in a way that had me wondering what else she could do with that mouth and tongue of hers.

  Fuck. I needed to get us out of here. But my hands kept wandering. I slid one up under her tank and palmed her full breast, pulling the bra cup down roughly, just enough to roll my thumb over the taut nub of her nipple.

  She made a deep keening sound in her throat, almost like she was in pain.

  Enough.

  I pushed off the wall and pulled my hand out of her shirt, holding her still straddled around me, and then stalked for the exit. Her mouth found my throat, as did her tongue. I marched faster, veering through the writhing throng, through the brick archway, past the bar, and finally back onto the darkened street and across the bloody wards. She still said nothing as I sifted away through the Void, clinging to her, arriving on the rooftop of my building within seconds.

  She dropped her feet to the ground, panting and seeming disoriented. I honestly couldn’t believe she was as drunk as I was. Gently—though my desire was riding me hot, pushing me to take her fast and hard—I cupped her cheeks, raising her face to look up at mine. Yes, she was dazed by it. Bloody wonderful. If I’d had anything close to the effect she had on me, then she was already mine.

  “Carowyn,” I said softly, dipping my lips to slide across hers.

  She gripped my forearms, squeezing hard as she opened her mouth to take me back inside, but then she firmly pulled away from me. Something stung inside my chest. For there they were. The walls she loved so much, erected right before my eyes.

  “I am no longer Carowyn,” she whispered, as if she couldn’t bear to say that name too loudly. As if it gave her physical pain to utter the syllables of her angel name.

  “You don’t—”

  “No.” She broke my hold, pushing farther away from me. She tilted her head, the dark ropes of her braided hair sliding to one side. “You’re dreaming, hunter.”

  Swallowing past the thickness in my throat, I controlled the anger simmering in my chest. I wasn’t dreaming. She’d just been living in her own loneliness too long and had forgotten what life could be like if she’d only let someone else in. If she’d only let me in.

  “Listen. I know that you don’t like to take sides. I get that. You want to stay out of the fray. I’m sure you have your reasons—”

  She gave a strangled laugh. “You have no idea.”

  Sobering, I stood straighter. “We all have our own horrors buried inside. Our own sins and shame. You’re not alone, Carowyn.”

  She winced. “I’m alone not by chance, Xander.”

  The way she said my name gripped me hard.

  “I’m not a fool.” I shook my head, glancing out at the mist-shrouded night. “Well, I’m a fool in some ways. But I know enough about demons to tell that something from your past haunts you, and it put you where you are.” I found her golden gaze again. “You’re not the first person to fall from grace. There is always a way to come back.”

  She shook her head, a pitying expression softening her face. “I didn’t fall from grace, Xander. I walked away.”

  My heart thudded sickeningly in my chest. She walked away? How? Why? Who would ever give up heaven for hell? For a life of damnation and isolation and cold, cold darkness. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. She saw the confusion and disbelief in my eyes. A fleeting glimpse of deep pain creased her face, then she inhaled heavily—a sigh of resignation as she seemed to think she’d effectively warded me off.

  “I’m lost to your world. It’s better this way. For everyone.” She took another step back. “Don’t waste your hopes on me.”

  She sifted away, the fog spinning
where she’d stood a moment ago. A vacant swirl of mist like a lost dream.

  I hung my head and chuckled to myself, a rather sad sound in the empty night.

  Poor Carowyn. She had no idea who she was dealing with.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bone

  I didn’t expect to hear from him, but the fact that he hadn’t contacted me still twisted a knot low in my gut. It wasn’t the first time I’d scared off a man. So why did I feel so empty? Why did I feel a pang of regret every time I pictured his shocked expression on the rooftop three nights ago?

  I wasn’t the type to fixate on one man. I’d had lovers over the years. Casual affairs. Even that dark time with Rook had been nothing more to me than a dangerous adventure. Too dangerous when his obsession with me began to take hold. That night I’d seen him and his brother Simian behaving as sadistic demon princes will do was the perfect out for me. It ended our affair in a blink. I could still see the blood on the walls from that woman’s husband who tried to save her from Simian’s maniacal, murder-sex play.

  Blinking away that memory, for I definitely didn’t want to go down that sickening lane, I clicked on my “forging” playlist—mostly slow, melodious tunes—and focused on the commission I’d gotten about three weeks ago for an ether-imbued sword. It was for a soldier in Maximus’s army. The angel legion were far better warriors than the demon hordes, but they needed the ether-infused weapons to get the upper hand.

  I heated the plates of steel in the forge, flipping them over repeatedly to distribute the heat. When the metal was the perfect hue of orange-red, I pulled it out onto the anvil and began to hammer the plates together. The rhythmic vibration helped shed some of the frustration I was carrying around.

  Damn that man. Why him? Why did he have to be the one Dommiel plopped on my table for mending? Why did I say yes and use my seraph song on a demon hunter? One who hunted my own kind? A strike of fear pierced my chest at imagining if I hadn’t given in and saved him. If I’d never had the chance to know him, to touch him. To kiss those lips.