Falling Hard

by J. K. Coi

  “What makes you so sure about this? How do you know I’m going to lose to Lucifer anyway, that everyone dies unless you take my place? Despite what you think, nothing is preordained.” His heart lurched as he spat out the lie. He probably was destined to die. Everything he’d experienced so far pointed to it. After all, did he really expect to be strong enough to hold out against the devil?

  No, living beyond tomorrow was a crapshoot at best, and he knew it, but it still killed him that Amelia was so certain he was the weaker contender in this cage match.

  “Fine, then do it,” he dared. “But you’ll have to rip the damn thing out of me.”

  She gazed down at him, hesitating.

  “Come on!” His rage overflowed. “You want to save everybody so badly, this is your fucking chance. Take it!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Amelia recoiled from Gabriel’s furious defiance, wishing there were some way to ease his anger. Her own agony choked her until she had to take quick, deep breaths, and she still couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” he snarled at her. “I thought you were the Archangels’ perfect answer to rebellion and dissent? Aren’t you going to do your job and eliminate the threat to your precious peace once and for all?”

  Amelia didn’t take offence. He was purposely goading her, trying to incite her to act without thinking. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to think. She knew exactly what she had to do—with or without Gabriel’s cooperation.

  His lip curled and he twisted his body beneath her in an effort to shove her aside. Her reaction was immediate and reflexive. With cold precision and strength, she slammed her fist into his chest and pushed him back down into the mattress.

  He swore at her, his strong body surging under her hips, but she was an immovable force as determination drew her lips together. This time when she began to sing, her angel song was deeper and carried a dark, sharp edge. She needed it to be powerful enough to pull Lucifer from his safe haven within the human host.

  Gabriel. Gabriel.

  Narrowing her eyes, she focused on him but refused to see him any longer. She was looking for the dark angel now.

  Lucifer. Lucifer.

  “It’s not going to work,” he muttered.

  It was going to work. It was already working. Her fingernails dug into his flesh. She could feel her song pulling on his soul. She shook her head and kept her voice balanced, secure.

  With Gabriel fighting to block her, any waver in tone and pitch would only cause him additional pain. She wanted to spare him as much pain as possible now, while she still could. Once her song dragged Lucifer to the surface, he and Gabriel would both suffer exponentially as the connection between them was severed and Amelia took Lucifer’s essence into herself, but she held onto the hope that it could be done without killing Gabriel.

  “Amelia.” He coughed.

  She opened her eyes and was startled to see the dark red line of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Her gaze jerked up to his eyes, dark with suppressed agony. She couldn’t help her gasp, the catch in her angel song. A slight hesitation.

  She hurried to continue, to conceal it as she slammed a mental wall down over her fear.

  As Gabriel would say, damn him. She’d known this would be impossible if Gabriel refused to cooperate—which he had. For that very reason she needed to remain steeled against him and stay focused on her obligation.

  A longer fit of coughing followed Gabriel’s pained groan. Damn. Damn.

  She couldn’t do it.

  Her angel song wavered again. Amelia didn’t realize that she was already pulling away, moving off of him, not until Gabriel grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t stop now. Finish…what you started.” His hoarse demand shook her. “Just promise…don’t take him into you. Don’t destroy yourself in the process. Not worth it. Just kill me. Make it count…make sure Lucifer goes with me…not you.”

  For the first time, Amelia noticed her face was wet from the flood of tears raining unchecked down her face. “Gabriel. I—” Taking his hand, she shook her head and held onto him tightly.

  And then, even though she despised herself for what she was doing, Amelia opened her mouth again to sing. She put more power behind her voice, as much as she had, in the hopes of making the torture end more quickly. All the while her heart was breaking.

  Squeezing his hand, she wished she could pour her strength into him through their clasped fingers and take away Gabriel’s pain, but that time had passed. The moment was upon him now. His aura had turned black shot through with rust as Amelia ruthlessly dragged Lucifer’s soul from the comfort of Gabriel’s unwilling protection, up to the surface. She could feel the angel thrashing and struggling. Having the both of them fight her was almost too much. The drain on her power was immense.

  Even as a wraithlike shadow in Gabriel’s mind, Lucifer was strong. He had to be aware that the human was his proper pathway to reclaiming his full power. He would know that through Amelia lay only death, so he fought tooth and nail to stay connected to Gabriel’s soul.

  “Gabriel, please just let go. Don’t make me do this. I don’t want to kill you.” She begged him one last time, but the look in his face, though etched with pain, was unrelenting.

  Gabriel continued to fight her angel song. She understood he wasn’t doing it to overpower her, just the opposite. By resisting her he ensured his death—and Lucifer’s—at her hands. He was trying to save her from saving him.

  Her throat closed against a thick lump of despair. She paused in her song, shaking her head. “You stubborn idiot,” she choked out.

  “Always—” He coughed up more blood. Amelia kept her eyes wide open. As much as she couldn’t bear to see, he deserved to be able to look in her face and know he was not alone, that there was at least one person who would be with him to the very end—even if that person was the heartless instrument of his death.

  How many years had she meted out justice on behalf of the Archangels? How many of her own kind had she cut down as rebels, all without an ounce of compassion or a moment’s hesitation?

  Death. Is that all I am? All I have to give?

  No, now she was more. Not heartless. She felt emotion, she had a soul. And she needed them to make her more human, more like this strong, brave man.

  It had been wrong to allow the Archangels to take those things away. She knew that now.

  No person should have to face death without understanding how valuable their life had been, without being able to cherish the time they’d had. No person should be asked to make the kind of sacrifice Gabriel was making now unless he could do it out of love. Just like no person should be given a license to deal in death without being forced to feel the anguish and pain of the one staring down the pointed end of the blade.

  Death.

  If the Archangels had been wrong to strip the angels of emotion and confine them to the angel realms, what if they were wrong about this, too, and Gabriel didn’t have to die? What if he really was strong enough to withstand Lucifer? What if there was some other way of preventing the dark angel’s return?

  Amelia had never once considered the possibility that Gabriel had been chosen for this fate, not by Lucifer, but some other, higher power. And not because his darkness was a match for Lucifer’s own, but because just maybe he was the only one with the strength to conquer such an evil.

  Can’t take the chance.

  She loved him. Having never felt anything even close to this before, she conceded that her emotions could be clouding her judgment. She could be very wrong and the consequences would be very, very bad.

  You have to take the chance.

  When Michael found out, the Archangels would hunt them both, and that was just fine with her. Let them do their own dirty work from now on.

  She could no longer be their instrument of justice, to be wielded without regard for the balance of nature. Her hands and her soul were stained with the blood of righteous intenti
ons, but blood was blood any way you looked at it. It could never be washed away completely.

  Gabriel’s eyes dropped closed. She felt his loss of consciousness even though the battle continued to rage inside him.

  Amelia changed the pattern of her angel song to one of healing and comfort. She was not going to be the one to extinguish the light from Gabriel’s eyes. She was done being Michael’s avenger.

  She enclosed them together in a cocoon of downy white angel feathers, hoping he wouldn’t push her away. His shoulders shook and his breathing came heavy and strangled, as if it hurt to draw air into his lungs. With her soothing voice, she willed him to survive, to stay strong and in control, knowing she had done a lot of damage to Gabriel’s body and soul in her attempt to take Lucifer.

  And because of her actions Lucifer was now fully arisen. She could feel it. The energy was a palpable presence in the room. She feared the dark angel would use this opportunity, while Gabriel was weak and recovering, to push the human out completely and assume full control. She would know very quickly now if she had made a mistake trusting her judgment and her heart.

  She continued to flood Gabriel with angel song intended to heal instead of hurt. And she prayed.

  Contrary to earth’s narratives, angels didn’t have much to do with God—at least not for a long, long time—and in all her years, Amelia had never once thought to wonder why her creator had forsaken them. She’d never thought to ask a higher power for help when things spun out of her own control. But she did so now. Silently, desperately, she prayed for Gabriel’s life and she prayed for forgiveness.

  A long time later, Amelia’s song stopped. There was nothing more she could do to help. It wasn’t fair. Having shackled Gabriel with excruciating pain and then setting Lucifer free inside him, she should have just killed him. Since that was no longer an option, she now had no choice but to leave Gabriel to battle the darkness by himself.

  After all he’d been through, Gabriel knew he’d be better off to submit, to give the fuck up. It would be a hell of a lot easier on him, that was for damn sure. And what did he really have to lose? God knows, death would bring some measure of relief from all the heartache, the constant loss, the mind-numbing pain and betrayal…After all, what was he living for anyway? What was his life but an endless string of senseless casualties, interspersed between the nauseating parties and goddamned pointless promotional tours?

  But here in the darkness, none of that existed. In the darkness, the blessed silence was broken only by Lucifer’s seductive promises. Lucifer promised he would never suffer again. He would never again be made to watch his loved ones die. Never have to feel his heart splitting apart. Lucifer promised that together the two of them would merge and become an invincible force, subject to no one else’s justice but their own.

  Here in the darkness, Gabriel’s physical pain faded, the anguish eating at his soul was diminished. The reality that he’d failed everyone who’d ever been important to him, none of it seemed to matter anymore.

  It was a relief.

  So why did he hesitate? Some part of him—some integral, inflexible part—continued to hold out, struggled to keep the last eroding barrier between his tarnished soul and Lucifer’s twisted one from fracturing forever.

  He looked up from the dark pit of his own mind to see a light shining over him. It was warm and familiar, and Gabriel had a desperate feeling that he needed it.

  Taking a deep, ragged breath, he started to pull away from the darkness where Lucifer whispered and cajoled. As he did, he slowly became aware of his physical body once again. The thundering headache that threatened to make his eyeballs explode, and the pain that had settled deep in his chest and lungs. But the closer he got to the surface of his own psyche, the less cajoling Lucifer was, and more insistent his demands became.

  Another breath, this one feeling just a little less asthmatic, and he recognized Amelia’s subtle wildflower scent mixed with the musk of sex, blood and sweat. A varied, potent combination that told the story of what had happened here better than anything else could.

  Amelia.

  Her name in his mind made Lucifer howl with rage.

  Gabriel sensed the angel lunging for him from below, surging out of the shadows to pull him back, and Lucifer wasn’t playing by the same rules as before. He was stronger now. The balance of control had shifted drastically, and not in Gabriel’s favor.

  Fighting now, clawing his way up and out, he climbed from the dark pit as fast as he could, even knowing there was no hiding from the devil inside.

  He regained full consciousness, feeling confused and disoriented, tasting blood on his tongue. He tried to move. His groan of effort was muffled and he realized that Amelia’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him tightly. And something else. He felt the silky touch of her wings lightly brushing his back and shoulders, and over his head.

  When he forced his eyes open a crack, everything seemed a blurry, cloudy white. Indistinct and soft, as if maybe he really had died and gone to heaven…but that couldn’t be right.

  Gabriel gritted his teeth against Lucifer’s powerful fury, a fury that resounded in his very blood, threatening to tear him apart, rip the flesh from his bones. He couldn’t stand it, a gasp of pain broke past his lips.

  Amelia.

  God, what had she done to him?

  Unleashed an evil thing in his mind and then left it there to torture him?

  Lucifer was supposed to be dead—because Gabriel was supposed to be dead. He’d been close, that he knew. That he felt. So why the hell had she stopped?

  Damn her.

  He threw his arms wide, broke free of her warm hold with a sudden surge of angry force. Her grunt of surprise turned to a whoosh as she lost her breath and they both tumbled from the bed in a mass of arms, legs and willowy white feathers.

  Amelia landed hard on her side, one wing curling awkwardly beneath her as his knee came down on the delicate rounded end, probably crushing bone from the way she grimaced.

  She turned toward him, recovering quickly, but not quickly enough.

  Gabriel was on her, throwing her face-first into the carpet, pulling her arms high behind her back until she cried out.

  He waited for it, but she didn’t plead with him. She didn’t even whisper his fucking name.

  “Why?” His voice didn’t even sound the same. It sounded like he felt—furious. Dirty. Perverse.

  Powerful.

  Archangel.

  “Why? Why didn’t you finish it, damn you?” The foul, coppery taste of blood and bile filled his throat as he thrust his hips into her backside and bent over her. He growled low into her ear. His cock already hard and throbbing, he rubbed it between the cheeks of her ass before kneeing her legs wide and prodding the softness between her thighs. “Because of this?”

  She squirmed against him, her sharp movements only serving to enrage him further and arouse him to a fevered pitch. Her hips thrust back into his again and again in her attempt to throw him off.

  With Lucifer riding him hard, he poised to penetrate her, his guttural voice muffled in the softness between her neck and shoulder. “Are you happy now? Are you glad you saved me? Is this what you wanted? To unleash a monster into the world?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The fibers of the dark-colored area rug scratched the delicate skin of her breasts, stomach and thighs as Gabriel bore her down into the floor with his weight. His body radiated so much heat she wondered that he didn’t literally burn her.

  Fighting him, she bucked her hips to try and kick him off, but it only seemed to increase his fury.

  “No, don’t do this,” she gasped.

  His hoarse laugh resounded through the room.

  He was right about one thing. She was to blame for his unbearable duality, and she had to help him.

  But first…with a sudden jerk, she wrenched an arm from his grasp, throwing her elbow hard into his ribs and scrambling from beneath him.

  He followed.

&
nbsp; She felt a tug and the painful pluck as she lost a handful of feathers. He seemed to hesitate then, and she looked over her shoulder, only to see the glow of red in his eyes.

  One hand closed into a fist around his trophy, and the other shot out for her ankle.

  Before he could yank her back to him, she kicked him hard, heard the loud crack as her heel connected solidly with his nose.

  Amelia winced at the sight of more blood on his face, dripping from his chin, but she didn’t let down her guard.

  He swiped his hand across his nose, smearing the red over his cheek almost to his ear. “Goddamned bitch,” he roared, launching himself at her.

  The back of her head smacked the floor. The room went fuzzy, with little twinkling dots that swam in the forefront of her vision. She struggled to regain her breath, but that became impossible as Gabriel’s large fingers closed around her throat and started to squeeze

  “Gabriel—” she choked.

  No. The savage, maddened thing attacking her wasn’t the man she’d come to know. That was Lucifer looking down at her from behind those red-rimmed eyes.

  Not Gabriel. Not—

  Perhaps not entirely, but Amelia couldn’t lie to herself that Gabriel was gone completely, that there wasn’t a small part of him in this creature so full of rage and hate, trying desperately to kill her—otherwise she would just finish the job and take out Lucifer without a second thought.

  But Gabriel was in there. She wouldn’t pretend the fury pouring out of the man above her didn’t belong to him, too, that he wasn’t the one squeezing the life out of her right now.

  Unable to breathe, hot spikes of agony ripping through her brain, Amelia struggled to remain conscious. Even if she could retreat to the angel realms—which would take energy she wasn’t sure she could gather now—it would mean abandoning Gabriel to this alone, and leaving him unprotected for too long.