by Vivian Wood
Vesper stuck out her tongue at his back, but he was already halfway to the front door, leaving her to catch up. She hustled to follow him inside as he swung open the ornate stained-glass front door and headed in.
“Whoa…” Vesper said, staring around in wonder. The whole place was done in stunning antiques, contrasting beautifully with a wealth of African tribal art. Whoever’d done the decorating here had distinctive but wonderful taste.
“Take off your shoes,” Kirael told her, bending down to unlace and pull off his boots.
Vesper did the same, still gawking. “This is where you live?”
“No. Each of the Fallen maintains his own residence. This is… a gathering place.”
He led her down a long hallway and into a formal dining room, where three other people awaited.
“We were starting to wonder where you were,” said a beautiful older Creole woman, dressed in white robes and a towering purple head wrap. When the woman’s coffee-colored gaze pinned Vesper, there was a distinct spark of interest. “What have we here? Kirael, you’ve brought us a guest.”
“Mere Marie,” Kirael said, “this is Vesper. Vesper, meet Mere Marie, Ezra, and Lucan.”
Mere Marie offered a handshake, though the touch of her skin sent an uncomfortable little jolt through Vesper’s hand. Precisely like touching a doorknob after walking across a carpet, though this was Mere Marie’s magic at work, not static.
The other two didn’t move from their seats, regarding her silently. Ezra had dark hair, classically handsome Mediterranean sort of good looks. Lucan was had dirty blond hair and piercing green eyes, and he was looking at Vesper as though she were some kind of strange beetle crawling around the room.
“Here,” Kirael said, pulling out a chair at the table for Vesper.
Vesper took it, not missing the look that went between Lucan and Ezra. Disdain? Concern?
The two Fallen were hard to read, that was sure enough.
When they were all seated, Mere Marie at the head of the table, Vesper and Kirael across from Ezra and Lucan, there was a long beat of silence.
“You’ve brought a human here,” Lucan said to Kirael, sounding displeased.
“And she can hear you,” Vesper said, raising a hand and wiggling her fingers at him. “You can talk to me, too.”
“Circumstances are… unusual,” Kirael said. “She has information.”
Ezra’s dismissive snort was hard not to take personally.
“He’s right,” Mere Marie said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “She knows the location of a Null.”
The whole room went silent as a tomb. Tension built as the silence played out for almost a minute, everyone looking at everyone else for cues.
“Can’t be,” Lucan said at last. “They’ve all died out, or gone so deep into other Kith worlds that they can’t be brought up again.”
“I know one,” Vesper said, shaking her head. “Sort of… hiding in plain sight, if you will.”
The feel of Lucan and Ezra’s gazes as they stared her down began to feel unnerving. Slowly, everyone shifted their attention to Ezra.
“She’s telling the truth,” Ezra said. “Or at least she believes she is.”
The angels’ cold, imperious attitude gave Vesper a little more insight into Kirael’s personality. He might be gruff, but at least he wasn’t as haughty as these two.
“Again, I’m right here,” she said, crossing her arms.
Ezra’s smirk was so infuriating, Vesper wanted to slap it right off his damn face.
“So?” Lucan asked, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the discussion to be had?”
“I need something in return,” Vesper said, though Lucan had addressed Kirael.
“She needs to get into Hell,” Kirael said, splaying his hands on the table. “And back out, presumably.”
Another long silence, so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife.
“Usually humans try to avoid going to Hell,” Lucan said, though his tone was mild enough.
“Yeah, well. Not this human,” Vesper said, narrowing her gaze.
“She’s rescuing another human,” Kirael said, then hurried to add, “A live one. I already asked.”
“A prisoner of the Fallen?” Ezra asked, his brows drawing down into a scowl.
“A… captive,” Kirael said, glancing at Vesper. “At a blood brothel.”
“Goodness,” Mere Marie said, shuddering.
Vesper saw Kirael shoot Mere Marie a glance, and then Mere Marie lifted a shoulder in response.
“It is what it is,” Mere Marie said.
“Why would you not simply… purchase this captive? It is a brothel, after all,” Lucan demanded to know.
“Because the price is my death,” Kirael said, stopping Lucan cold.
“Lucifer has put bounties on us?” Ezra asked, sitting up a little straighter. “What kind of fool would come after a Fallen?”
Kirael cleared his throat, but thankfully didn’t point out that Vesper was exactly that kind of fool.
“I don’t think that’s the matter at hand,” Mere Marie said, waving a hand. “The question is, can we get someone into Hell? The gris-gris I gave Kirael won’t fool them twice.”
Kirael and Lucan looked to Ezra, who sighed.
“It is possible…” he said, but he didn’t sound very happy about it.
“Ezra set up most of the entrances and exits in and and out of Hell,” Kirael explained for Vesper’s benefit. “He knows all the tricks.”
“Getting in isn’t the issue. It’s leaving again that would be difficult. Think of breaking into Hell like robbing a bank. If someone sounds the alarm and activates the security measures, you’d be trapped inside,” Ezra sighed.
“Where, presumably, Lucifer would then maim and torture you to death… and that’s just the beginning. Once he has your soul in his possession, that would be…” Kirael said, then went quiet. Leaving everyone at the table to finish his thought for themselves.
“We’d need to call in a favor to get you out. We’d need an insider’s help,” Ezra said.
Kirael snorted. “Who’d help us?”
Ezra turned to give Lucan a meaningful look.
“No,” Lucan said, seeming to catch Ezra’s meaning after a moment. “No! Absolutely not.”
“You want to find the Null, or not?” Ezra asked.
“Nothing is worth that,” Lucan snapped.
“Lucan…” Kirael said.
Lucan shoved to his feet, clearly agitated. “I’m not contacting Stella. Just… no.”
“She’d do it, for you,” Kirael challenged.
“She’d do it to piss off Lucifer,” Lucan qualified. “And again… no. I’m not talking to that she-demon.”
“Maybe you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Ezra suggested somberly.
In a flash, Lucan’s fist was in the air, poised to crash down into Ezra’s face.
“STOP,” Mere Marie shouted, her voice resonating through the room with unnatural force.
Everyone froze. Vesper, halfway out of her seat, dropped back down and swallowed.
Mere Marie was no one to mess with, that was for sure.
“Does anyone know a better way?” Mere Marie asked. “Someone holding onto a secret Fatale?”
“What’s a Fatale?” Vesper asked, confused.
“A being, a female, that can take out almost anyone or anything, if given the right… motivation…” Ezra said. “Provoke a Fatale enough, and it’s like calling down a nuclear strike. It just levels everyone in the vicinity.”
“So… let’s find one,” Vesper said, looking around.
Kirael shook his head. “She was kidding. There aren’t any more Fatales, unless someone somewhere hasn’t matured.”
“Matured?” Vesper asked. Ezra jumped in to clarify, his face lighting up as he explained.
“Yeah, they’re sort of like a dormant volcano. Everything’s normal, then one day,” he pulled out his hands, making
an explosion sound. “They come into their powers, all at once. I knew one, back in Rome. She was just a normal girl, a servant in a royal house I think. One day I turned a corner, and suddenly… there were just bodies everywhere. Some dead, some unconscious. Poor Alexandria, crying and shaking, not knowing what she’d done.”
“Holy crap,” Vesper said. “Kith stuff gets weirder every time I foolishly decide to ask questions.”
“You don’t have to tell us, we’ve basically seen it all,” Ezra said, sinking back in his seat. “Anyway, we’re not getting bailed out by some mysterious creature.”
“Oh. Got it,” Vesper said, sitting back in her chair. Disappointment filled her suddenly.
“Since that’s not an option… Lucan, make the call,” Mere Marie said, her tone sharp. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Lucan’s expression was stormy as ever, but he didn’t say a word.
Vesper glanced around the room. Only then did she realize that Kirael was standing, and that he’d thrust a protective arm in front of her. Shielding her from the fallout, should Ezra and Lucan fight.
Interesting…
“I think it might be time for you two to go,” Mere Marie said, speaking to Kirael without taking her eyes off the other two men. “I will keep you apprised, Kirael.”
“Come on, then,” Kirael said.
Vesper stood up and let him usher her out of the room, not missing the fact that he kept himself between her and the other Fallen every step of the way.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’m going to take you home. I have a feeling that a tonight might be our last chance to rest. For the forseeable future, at least. We’re going to need to gather some supplies in order to break into Hell… and assuming we get in and out alive, then we’ll have to hide for a while.”
“I hadn’t considered what happens afterward, I guess,” she admitted.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Kirael said, then scowled as if he didn’t like his own response. Truly, it was more than he needed to offer, even for the valuable information that Vesper was going to give him.
As he led her out of the house, silent and tense, Vesper began to wonder…
Were Kirael’s motives purely selfish, just wanting the information she could offer?
Or could there be something more? Something deeper, more personal?
Sure, she and Kirael had nothing but a little chemistry between them. But it did beg the question.
Do Fallen ever… date?
Vesper felt her cheeks burn, even thinking the question to herself. Sure, Kirael was handsome and all… but there was no way in the world that a Fallen angel and a mouthy human bounty hunter ended up…
Well, as anything.
Get your head on straight, she commanded herself. Save your sister, keep your head down.
And then, most of all, don’t worry about the love lives of handsome Fallen angels… down that path lies nothing but pain.
Chapter Twelve
Vesper
Vesper woke the next day to an anonymous text, presumably from Kirael.
Do you have a formal ball gown? was all it said.
She bit her lip, then replied No…
Nothing more from Kirael in the next few hours, so Vesper caught up on some laundry and called Vargus to touch base.
“What’s it like working with Fallen?” he asked.
“Frustrating, and a little scary,” Vesper said honestly, but Vargus just laughed.
“If anyone can hold their own, it’s you,” he said before they hung up.
There was a knock on her door around five, just when Vesper was getting antsy and thinking about texting Kirael for a status update. When she opened it, there was a delivery man standing on her doorstep with a package. She signed for the box, which was a surprisingly heavy broad rectangle made of sweet-smelling white card stock.
Carrying it into her bedroom, she laid it out on the bed and pulled off the top.
Vesper’s breath caught in her throat. Inside, wrapped in layers of perfumed tissue paper, lay a formal dress quite unlike any she’d ever beheld. She drew it out of the box, careful not to wrinkle the pale peach chiffon.
Walking to the mirror, she held the dress up against herself. The most eye-catching part was the embroidery. Gems sewn into floral patterns dripped from each shoulder to the collarbone, contrasting with the simplicity of the rest of the gown.
No bunched fabric, ruffles, and organza here; instead, the dress was cut to fit sleekly against the body. It was also backless, in a way that made Vesper feel a bit breathless once she actually tried the dress on.
It was… stunning.
For a girl who only ever wore jeans, leather jackets, and Doc Martens, her reflection in the mirror was a complete shock. More so, considering that Kirael had sent the dress over.
Damn. I look amazing in this. I can’t believe Kirael picked this out for me to wear… she thought.
Was there more to Kirael than met the eye?
“Whoa!” Aurora said, doubling back as she passed by Vesper’s open door. “Holy crap, is that an Alexander McQueen gown?”
The pretty blonde sidled into Vesper’s room, looking her up and down curiously.
Vesper turned, feeling guilty at the mere sight of her roommate. “I’m not really sure.”
“Where you going?” Aurora said, a distinct note of longing in her voice. Aurora rarely went out, except to visit some mysterious relative outside the city.
Probably because she’s hiding from people who’d take advantage of her. People like you, Vesper thought, trying not to cringe.
“I don’t know that either,” Vesper said, then shrugged when Aurora shot her a questioning look. “It’s… a surprise date.”
“Lucky you,” Aurora sighed. “You should wear those sparkly ruby heels that are collecting dust in your closet. And use some peach blush, maybe gold eye shadow. Make your eyes and cheekbones pop.”
“I didn’t know you were such a fashionista,” Vesper said, arching a brow.
Aurora looked like she wanted to say more, but she just gave Vesper a sad smile. “Good luck on your date.”
“Thanks,” Vesper said lamely, feeling like a total bitch as Aurora retreated to her own room.
Aurora, whose peaceful life Vesper was about to destroy…
To save Mercy, she reminded herself.
Blowing out a breath, Vesper bit her lip. Her phone chimed, another text.
Be on your front steps in an hour, it said.
Biting her lip, she hurried to get ready, trying to put the Aurora issue out of her mind.
An hour later, she was standing on the street in her blood-red heels, brimming with curiosity. After a moment a sleek white town car pulled up, and Kirael emerged.
He was in a neatly-fitted tux, his dark hair slicked back. He looked like the hottest James Bond imaginable, right down to the black silk bowtie and tall, dark silhouette.
“Holy shit,” Vesper mumbled, her eyes widening as she stared at him.
Her body responded immediately, warming and tightening in a way that she found acutely embarrassing. Luckily, he seemed too interested in checking her out to notice.
“You look…” he said, his eyes traveling up and down her body several times. “Wow. I knew this dress would suit you, but…” he tapered off, biting his lower lip for a second in a way that made Vesper’s blood go hot. “You should wear evening gowns more often.”
She blushed, more from the heat of his gaze than from his lackluster compliment. Kirael handed her into the car, every inch the gentleman, and she settled in for the ride.
Still, she could feel his gaze on her body throughout the ride, making her flush all over. To her surprise, she was a little thrilled by Kirael’s sudden and apparent interest.
A ridiculously sexy immortal found her alluring? She’d take that compliment in a heartbeat.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To a weddin
g reception,” he said. “Have you heard of Jack Darren?”
An image instantly came to mind, a handsome dark-skinned man with a shaved head, always wearing a somber dark suit and a gleaming platinum Rolex.
“I—” Vesper started, then stopped. “The Jack Darren? The one who represents all the mages and wizards in the Southeastern states, that Jack Darren?”
“The very one.”
“Yeah, well… he’s only the face of the Kith community. He’s on the city council, he advises the Mayor, the Governor, AND the President. Of course I’ve heard of him,” Vesper said.
“But no personal encounters, I hope?” Kirael asked, glancing out the window.
“Ummm... no…” Vesper said.
“Good! His daughter Ammerie got married tonight, and we’re going to celebrate.”
Vesper didn’t quite know what to say for a moment. “How did you get an invitation?”
“Mere Marie loaned us hers, on the promise that we wouldn’t cause too much trouble tonight.”
“I’m afraid to ask what trouble we’d be getting into,” Vesper said.
“The last time I broke into Hell, which you’ll remember as the time you followed me through, then stalked and stabbed me,” Kirael said, giving her a look that made her flush. “Mere Marie got me through with a spell, but it was one-time-use. The ingredients are no longer available to us.”
“And what does that have to do with Jack Darren?”
“He’s got some vials of the essence of la fleur de morte… a flower that only grows in the darkest, coldest parts of Hell. It’s nearly impossible to harvest, too.”
“And… that’s one of the ingredients we need to break into Hell?” Vesper guessed.
“Correct.”
“And the wedding…” Vesper said, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress.
“Is at his house,” Kirael said. “So it’s our best chance. Mere Marie is chasing down some dragon’s blood for us, says she ‘knows a guy’. Whatever that means. So we need to procure these vials. Then we have to obtain the cross of a true believer, which is easier to come by.”
“Yeah, I bet in New Orleans that’s not too hard. This is a seriously Catholic city,” Vesper said, closing her eyes for a moment. “Is this going to be dangerous?”