Fear The Fall: Fallen Hunters Series

by Melissa Winters

  “It’s never happening. Besides, I’m expecting Zeke back any moment, and I have a lot to say.”

  “He’s not coming home.”

  My eyes narrow. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means, you say yes. If you’d like him to return sometime this century, you’ll pay up.”

  I spin on him. “Fine. Do what you must with him. You’re saving him from my wrath.”

  “We need him for the war.”

  It’s the first time Lucifer has admitted there will be a war. Even if it was in a roundabout way.

  “Let me get this straight. You say we need him, but you’re threatening him?”

  “I’m simply saying he can run errands for the next decade, if that’s what it takes.”

  I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, but it’s not a date, Luke. After it’s done, you return Zeke. Unharmed.”

  “You have a lot of requirements for a debtor. Just agree and all will be right in your world again.”

  “What are the full terms? No tricks, Satan.”

  He chuckles. “Glad to see your rage is still intact. I was thinking you were going soft on me.”

  I wave my hands in the universal sign for get on with it.

  “Twenty-four hours. We start with breakfast, hang out all day, have dinner, stay out all night and sleep together. Your debt is paid at sunup.”

  My laugh comes out sounding maniacal. “You’ve lost your damn mind. I’m not sleeping with you. Twenty-four hours is astronomical.”

  “Your life isn’t worth a simple twenty-four hours?”

  “It’s not worth giving my body to you,” I say, covering my exposed midriff with the red shirt he knew I was searching for.

  “I didn’t say anything about sex, Victoria. I said sleep.”

  “Sleep together were your exact words and everyone knows the devil is in the details.”

  “Touché,” he says, pursing his lips. “Then let me clarify,” he stands, walking toward me and removing the shirt away from my stomach and discarding it on the bed behind him. “I only want to spend time with you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “And if I don’t? What really happens?”

  “Rix will drag you to Hell.”

  His penetrating stare unnerves me and weakens my knees. “Promise me. No tricks.”

  “You have my word,” he says, nodding curtly. “Now get dressed. We’re going to breakfast,” he calls out over his shoulder as he heads down the loft stairs, leaving me alone to ponder just what I’ve gotten myself into.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed and descending the stairs. He’s waiting at the bottom, looking up at me as though I’m his prom date unveiling my dress for the first time. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is agape.

  I hide a smile under a contrived yawn. Something about the way he’s looking at me has my walls dropping. He’s making me feel important, which makes it even more imperative that I guard myself with him.

  “Ready?” I ask, walking right past his outstretched hand. When I make it outside, I stop in my tracks at the sleek black car that waits. “An Audi R8? What’s the occasion?”

  “Valentine’s Day,” he deadpans.

  “It’s April.”

  “So we’re celebrating late. I thought you might like to ride in something that is sure to actually start and not rust out while we dine,” he says, motioning to my truck.

  “My truck runs.”

  “It didn’t the other night.”

  He opens the passenger door for me, and I stop, turning toward him. “What are you up to?” I ask, searing him with a look of warning. If you mess with me, I’ll find a way to end you.

  “I’m just trying to have a semi-normal day. With you. Could you relax and try to enjoy yourself?”

  “If I agree and truly try, do you swear to me that you’ll leave me alone? No more drop-ins. We work together to end this evil and that’s it. No more invading my dreams. One day and that’s all?”

  “You dream about me?” He smirks, and I groan. “Please, tell me what sordid things we do. I’ll live vicariously through your nighttime imaginings.”

  My entire body feels like it’s on fire from pure embarrassment. Why did I have to mention the damn dreams?

  I don’t say another word until we’re seated on the patio of a café in the Garden District. Across the street is one of the oldest cemeteries in New Orleans, and as creepy as that should feel, considering I’m sitting with the devil at my side, it’s actually quite beautiful in the light of day.

  “What are you thinking?” Luke asks, examining the area.

  I turn my gaze on him. “Nothing, really. I’m a fan of this part of town.”

  His eyes roam the area, seemingly unimpressed. “It’s a bit boring for my taste, but I suppose it’s a nice change of pace.”

  “Boring? Do you mean lacking debauchery?”

  “A bit of debauchery never hurt anyone, love.”

  “Why do you call me love? What happened to angel ?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

  “For those of us in the underground, that carries derogatory connotations.” He picks at something on his fingers, not meeting my eyes. “As you are no longer walking with the hordes of heavenly angels, I thought a changeup would suit.”

  “Let me get this straight. That whole time, what I thought was an endearment was really an insult?”

  “Quite.”

  I huff. “You’re evil.”

  He smirks. “Says who?”

  “Everyone,” I snap, growing annoyed with him.

  “That’s only because they’ve been fed the wrong narrative. The story you’ve heard is not the whole story.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “You want me to believe there’s more to the story? That I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and all that.”

  He nods. “Exactly.”

  “If you’re not evil, then what are you, Luke?” I lean forward, dying to hear how he’s going to spin this one. The smirk on my face dies when I see how serious he is. His expression bounces from nervous to frustrated, and I’m not sure how to take this outwardly vulnerable side of him.

  “I’m the caretaker of Hell. Just like inmates need wardens here on Earth, Hell does too.”

  “You incite sin, Luke. That’s not what a warden does. They prevent evil deeds.”

  “That’s what I do as well.”

  I shake my head. “Father cast you to Hell because you embodied evil.”

  He tsks, wagging his finger. “I challenged him, and he retaliated with a punishment, damning me to rule over the truly evil.”

  “What about the Bible and all the teachings?”

  He scoffs. “That old thing? Do you not know this world’s history? The early days of humanity were brutal. Order was nonexistent. The Bible is merely stories that God whispered into the ears of men, giving them something to hold over other humans, to keep them in line.”

  “How so?”

  “Humans fear the unknown. They need something to explain what happens after this life. They need a reason to toe the line. Fear the devil and Hell, and you stay in line.”

  There is logic in his words, but why would God damn his son for simply questioning things? Lucifer was his favorite. He adored him. The punishment doesn’t seem to fit the crime.

  “He was trying to teach me a lesson, while also giving me the opportunity to experience life, which is all I wanted.”

  “You wanted to be human?”

  “I wanted to feel something more than what was allowed in Heaven.”

  His gaze pierces mine, and there’s a shift in the air. I don’t speak and neither does he. Several minutes go by and I avoid his stare at all costs. When I finally do turn my head toward him, he seems more relaxed.

  “Tell me something true,” he says, leaning back in the flower-patterned yellow chair. I lick the inside of my lips, stalling. I don’t want to talk. I’d rather sit here in peace, order food, and get the hell on with this sham of a
day.

  “Not happening, princess. This is my day.”

  I grumble under my breath.

  “A truth for a truth?” he offers, and I motion for him to go right ahead. He chuckles, but consents to go first. “I spent an entire human lifetime here on Earth.”

  My eyes widen at his admission.

  “Who ran Hell?”

  He grunts. “The same demon who is currently threatening my reign.”

  “Oh, snap,” I say, and his lips form a thin line.

  “You sound like a human when you talk like that,” he says, and I roll my eyes at his barb. “Anyway, Nolda is an idiot. He’s gotten further in his quest than I thought possible, but he doesn’t have the brains to carry it all the way to the end.”

  “If you know who it is, why haven’t you dragged him back to Hell and tortured him?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head over the details. He’ll have centuries of torture ahead.” Luke folds his hands together, placing them on top of the yellow-checkered tablecloth. “Right now, I’m allowing him to earn every bit of his punishment.”

  “You’re not at all concerned that a coven is helping him? Even if he isn’t smart enough to bring war to your doorstep, they could.”

  His eyes are two impenetrable screens keeping me out of his internal thoughts as effectively as bars on a prison cell. The stony glare he directs at me has unease sweeping through me. Luke shakes his head, and the hard glower disappears.

  I want to ask him what that was all about, but something tells me he’s done with the conversation around witches and his demon traitor.

  “Why did you decide to leave Hell for a time?” I ask, steering us back to safer pastures.

  His shoulders relax, indicating he likes the new direction. “Why not?” he answers my question with one of his own, but I don’t take the bait.

  “Fine,” he says, relenting. “Like I said before, I wanted to feel.”

  The honesty gives me pause.

  “How so?” I question, not entirely understanding his reasons.

  He bites out a harsh laugh. “Victoria, you know as well as I do that our father doesn’t allow his children to experience what he’s gifted to humans. Even when he banished me to Hell, he kept me in metaphorical chains. I could rule and cause intense emotions for others, but I myself couldn’t enjoy those same pleasures. Even pain is better than feeling nothing. I just got to witness others enjoying the perks of Earth.”

  Wow, I thought to myself. The great devil, who governs sin and desire, wanted to feel. It was almost poetic justice that the very thing he unleashed on the world was the one thing he himself was deprived of. It was kind of sad in a sense.

  “What our dear old dad forgot was that on Earth, his rules for us don’t apply.” A grin spread out over his face. “So I found the loophole and took a holiday.”

  “What did you do?”

  He smirks. “Do you really want to know the dirty details, love?” he asks, but jumps right in without so much as a second for me to answer. “Drugs, booze, gambling . . . sex,” he whispers, with a raised brow.

  I grimace, my mind conjuring up all kids of scenarios, and he is right, I don’t want any more details. He smiles at my discomfort and I glare in response. Jealousy slithers in uninvited, making my skin crawl and my fists clench and unclench under the table.

  “There’s no need for jealousy, love. I never cared for any of them.”

  “That’s even worse, Lucifer. Using women isn’t a sport.”

  “Every one of them gladly participated and knew their part in our time together,” he explains. “There was so much I hadn’t experienced, and they were eager to show me. I chased every high I could . . .” He takes a deep breath. “And then I saw you.”

  My eyes fall away from him, needing to look anywhere but at his gorgeous green eyes that threaten to pull me under his spell. I don’t want to hear any more. I am about to tell him as much when he continues on.

  “I wanted to know you, Victoria. I’d enjoyed so much of the time I’d spent on Earth, but that night—” He smiles to himself. “Those few minutes with you made me feel more than I had felt in all the years I’d spent here.”

  The weight of his admission cloaks me like a thick wool garment, threatening to pull me to the ground. I don’t have words. I can hardly think past all the voices in my head, screaming for me to run while I can.

  “Can I get you two something to drink?” a woman croons, bringing my eyes up. She doesn’t look my way at all. Her focus is solely on Luke.

  He clears his throat, looking down at the menu the woman has placed in front of him.

  “Excuse me,” I say, as snarky as possible. “Can I get one of those too?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she says unintelligibly, never looking my way but nearly throwing the laminated menu at my chest.

  My mouth drops open in righteous outrage. Luke covers his mouth with his own menu, stifling the smile at my reaction to the waitress’s blatant flirting and outright dismissal of me.

  “Do you two need a room?” I bark. Luke chokes and the bleach-blonde waitress with the gaudy mauve lipstick fans herself while mustering up an artificial look of mortification.

  Luke pulls himself together, sitting taller and clearing his throat. “We’ll take two Cokes and two bacon, egg, and cheese croissants to go, Marcy.”

  She beams in his direction, nodding enthusiastically, as though he’d given her some kind of earth-shattering praise. She saunters off, swinging her hips more than is necessary.

  I scowl. “Marcy?”

  He shrugs. “She was shouting it in her head, like she wanted me to know.”

  “Disgusting,” I blurt, pulling a face that says, I might throw up.

  I shouldn’t be surprised by Marcy’s reaction. The poor woman can’t help herself. He is the devil, and, in all fairness, he radiates sexuality. If he can affect a fallen angel like he does, surely a poor mortal can’t help herself.

  I mentally slap myself for making excuses for the woman. Plenty of people turn their backs on Lucifer. Those that don’t find themselves burning for eternity, and if I don’t pull myself together, I might just meet that same damned fate. I don’t put anything past God at this point.

  Dead Inside

  Towering grey structures block the visitors that roam the sacred home of the dead, leaving me to feel completely alone with the devil by my side. Each and every tomb is different from the next. Many are chipped and worn to the point that even standing directly in front of one, I’m unable to read the epitaph carved into the stone.

  “What are you thinking?” Luke asks, sidling up next to me.

  “I wonder who this person was,” I admit. “Are they in Heaven, or is one of your demons torturing them in hell?”

  “Neither,” he says matter-of-factly. “She,” he stresses, “is stuck here in purgatory. She’s leaned up against that stone over there watching you rather intently,” he says, pointing toward a tall mausoleum.

  My nose scrunches in confusion, as I see nothing.

  He chuckles. “Our girl Rosa doesn’t trust you.”

  “Who?”

  “Rosa Cortez, the deceased woman whose tomb you’re loitering in front of.”

  “Is there any woman, living or dead, that you’re not on a first name basis with?”

  He spins me toward him, pulling me into his firm chest and effectively knocking the wind right out of me. “Must we spend our one day together throwing barbs and fighting jealousy? I’m here with you. It’s all that I want, Victoria.”

  I step out of his embrace, clearing my throat. “Twenty-four hours, Lucifer. It’s all you have. I’ll do my best to follow your rules, but this isn’t fun for me. I’m here because you’re forcing me to be.”

  His eyes darken, a cloud of anger rolling over his handsome features, highlighting his true nature.

  Good. Be the bad guy. Make it easy for me to keep you at arm’s length.

  As quickly as the anger has come, it’s gone
. Surely, he read my mind and realized that showing his evil isn’t in his best interest. The king of deceit isn’t dumb. He knows how to play the game.

  I walk toward the very back of the cemetery, stopping periodically to read a tombstone that catches my attention. That’s when I see her.

  A few tombstones ahead, luminescent and hovering above the ground, a young woman with raven black hair and haunting black eyes peers at me with a mix of interest and wariness.

  A spirit.

  These are not beings I’m very familiar with. I don’t know their abilities or which side of the war they’d join—assuming there is a war of good versus evil.

  “Rosa?” I call out, and she retreats, running even farther into the labyrinth of graves, and I follow, picking up my pace.

  I weave in and out of tombs, trying desperately to catch her, but she’s always one step ahead of me. Eventually, I give up, having lost sight of her. I’m bent over, breathing heavy from my chase, when I feel a rush of cold fall over my back. I turn around and freeze at the specter suspended inches from me. Her head is tilted at an odd angle, inspecting me as if I were something alien.

  “What are you?” she rasps, with what can only be described as a death rattle. “I thought you were something evil at first. You’re surrounded by darkness and it chills me to be near you,” she enlightens me. “It’s almost as if you’re dead inside.”

  Why do people keep saying that, and what the hell does it even mean?

  “I’m perfectly alive,” I say, nerves racked by her description of how she views me.

  Can nobody else see her? People walk by, staring at me like I’m the strange one.

  “Let me . . . touch you,” she asks for permission, but moves forward without gaining it. I take a quick step back, bumping into something hard. I don’t bother to look, assuming it’s yet another grave marker. “I won’t hurt you,” she assures me, but I’m not feeling any better about the idea.

  Ghosts are unnatural creatures. Once you die, you’re supposed to move on. Heaven or Hell—those are your options, yet some souls remain trapped on Earth by their own choices. Luke said it’s purgatory, but he and I have different views on what that entails.