All That Falls

by Kimberly Frost

  “I do. It’s Ileana Rella’s logo. Ileana’s the fourth Etherlin muse, and she’s a friend.”

  Tamberi licked Hayden Lane’s blood from her lips. Waifishly pretty in a geek-boy way, Hayden hung by his arms, which were secured to the ceiling by a rope. His head lolled forward toward his bare chest. She gave his body a push and his toes skimmed across the fifteen thousand dollars scattered on the floor.

  She was in the midst of running a sharp nail over his nipple to rouse him when an explosion rocked the floor. She spun and ran to the window.

  The south warehouse, which had been her headquarters, was a ball of flames.

  She screamed curses as she rushed to the phone. Another more distant explosion rocked the world again.

  “What the fuck?” she yelled, grabbing her silk robe and flinging it on.

  Merrick! That son-of-a-bitch. While my teams were mobilizing, he was already here planting bombs.

  She tied the sash and shoved her feet into shoes, reaching for her loaded gun.

  Thanks to her plan that had knocked out the Varden’s cell towers, her own communications were limited. She swept out of her office and down the hall. There were snipers on all the rooftops surrounding the syndicate headquarters building, so she didn’t have to worry about Merrick strolling in. Unless he’d disguised himself in some way. Would he expect her to be at syndicate headquarters? Probably not. She’d been running things from the warehouses. She was lucky she’d come in for a meeting and had decided to stay and play with Hayden.

  She heard footsteps in the stairwell, and she pulled the door open. “What’s going on?” she called, spotting a plump figure with fuzzy brown hair waddling down the stairs in pumps.

  “Merrick’s blown the tunnel and the south warehouse. He sent a message that he’s wired two other syndicate buildings to blow,” her father’s secretary Sylvia said. “He’s claiming that he didn’t kill Victor and can prove it, but that if the syndicate prefers to be at war with him, he’ll play.”

  “Motherfucker. I am going to cut off his fucking head,” Tamberi said, tasting blood and ash on her breath. She licked her teeth.

  “Why would he say that he can prove he didn’t kill Victor? Merrick’s too smart to believe that he can get away with a bluff.”

  “Of course, he’s going to lie. He has to lie, Sil. He’s fucking under siege. The syndicate just needs to keep gunning for him. The teams will take him out tonight.”

  “Haven’t you heard? The east warehouse’s team is dead. Merrick had dozens of snipers lying in wait. A group at Bella Cera and Scavolini took out the whole team.”

  A scream of pure rage wailed from Tamberi’s lungs. That sneaky son-of-a-bitch!

  An icy hand stroked her neck and she shivered. She swiped the air, trying to ignore Reziel’s invisible presence.

  “I’m leaving. This could be one of the buildings that’s rigged to blow,” Sylvia said. “And we’d all better hope Merrick’s proof satisfies the syndicate because this isn’t a war anybody should want.”

  “He has to die. Can’t you see that? No single ventala can be allowed to become more powerful than the syndicate. He has to be put down. No matter what it takes.”

  Sylvia waved a disgusted hand and clattered down the next flight of stairs.

  “They’ll cave. They’re such a bunch of pussies. I wish they were all dead.”

  She felt slush wash over her brain. “You’re right,” she said, exhaling. “This wasn’t the main event.” She grabbed her bangs in her fist and yanked, the pain helping to center her. “I can be patient. As long as you keep your promises, I’ll keep mine.”

  She backed out of the stairwell and glanced around. Was it time to lie low for a few hours and regroup? Things were already in motion. Yeah, let Merrick finish his offensive and get tangled up with syndicate negotiations. And then she would strike again…with more force than anyone in the Varden had ever seen.

  She strode back to her office, keeping a sharp eye for any signs of movement. She raised her gun as she reentered. Empty ropes hung from the ceiling. Had Hayden been playing possum?

  Sneaky little fuck. Good for him.

  She narrowed her eyes as she stalked around the room. She didn’t find him crouched behind any large pieces of furniture or under her desk.

  It didn’t matter. Playtime was over anyway.

  “Let’s go, Lysander,” Cerise said as her phone rang again. She’d turned the phone on so she could text Ileana, but hadn’t gotten a response from the other muse. That wasn’t unusual. Ileana wasn’t as tied to her cell as the rest of the world. She often left it setting somewhere out of hearing distance for hours.

  Cerise scrolled through her own text messages. She’d been getting them all day from the new ES director and from her dad, but she hadn’t answered. Now both Dimitri and Dorie were calling her. Cerise let the calls go to voice mail, but could almost feel security officers being called together for a briefing about a fallen angel being discovered in the Etherlin.

  She jabbed the down arrow on her phone and called her voice mail to listen to her dad’s message. She pictured him, stout and powerful in a black suit, pacing holes in the living room carpet while he tried to reach her. He would not be happy.

  “Cerise, your father here. I’ve just heard from Etherlin Security that explosions have destroyed the main tunnel and several buildings in the Varden. This is clearly a continuation of the gang war that erupted last night. We’re locking down the Etherlin. I’m told that you haven’t passed the checkpoints and are safely within the Etherlin. I need that confirmed. Call and let us know where you are.”

  Good girl, Dorie. Her sister hadn’t called her dad or ES. At least not yet.

  As Cerise and Lysander left the top floor, she sent a text to her dad.

  Am okay and in the Etherlin. Am at Griffin Lane’s apartment visiting his little sister who was sick last night. Sorry I missed your texts earlier. Battery was dead. Will call you later.

  Then Cerise called Dorie.

  “It’s me,” Cerise said. “You can come back and stay with Jersey.”

  “No, I can’t. Dad wants me home. He wants you here, too.”

  “When Hayden asked you to stay with Jersey, did he say how long he’d be gone?”

  “He thought a couple of hours. He should be back any time, but ES is locking down the Etherlin. If he doesn’t get here soon, he won’t be able to get inside. There are bombs going off in the Varden. I hope he didn’t go there. He said he wasn’t, but he seemed nervous about whatever he had to do.”

  “I’ll text him about the lockdown.”

  “I already did.”

  “Did he text you back?”

  “No, but ES said the cell towers are down in the Sliver. In the Varden, they’re killing each other in the streets. Can you even imagine? They’re like a bunch of wild animals. Thank God for the wall. And speaking of the fallen, what are you going to do about him? Is he gone yet?”

  “He’s leaving now.”

  “He’d better. When will you be home?”

  “Soon. I have to go, but I’ll call you back in a little bit.” Cerise ended the call, powered the phone off, and turned to Lysander. “Things have gotten more complicated. Because of the unrest in the Varden, there will be a lot more Etherlin Security officers on patrol. We can walk to Ileana’s house from here, but we need to do it without being seen, because if ES spots me, they’ll insist on taking me home. My father’s orders.”

  “You needn’t worry. I won’t allow them to take you anywhere.”

  She held up a hand. “I don’t want there to be a confrontation. If we see any guards coming our way, we’ll duck into the shadows.”

  “I’m an archangel, Cerise. I don’t hide. As I told you, on the ground or in the air, if there’s a fight, we hold our positions. We never run.”

  “You transported us away from the fight when the syndicate was attacking us.”

  “That wasn’t my fight. They hadn’t attacked me. If ventala had engage
d me personally, I would have stayed to fight.”

  “But at the moment, you can’t take to the air. So what happens if Etherlin Security spots you and tries to take you into custody?”

  “I won’t be taken.”

  “Meaning you’ll fight and kill men who are just doing their jobs?”

  “Angels are bound by instinct and by law to defend themselves. So yes, anyone who attacks me will have a deadly fight on his hands, be he human or demon.”

  “There won’t be just one. There will be a lot of them.”

  “One man or a legion of men, it makes no difference to me.”

  If an entire army were marching toward him, would Lysander really stand his ground? She looked him over and decided he probably would. He was proud, unapologetic, and decidedly male.

  He’s right. He’s like a lion.

  She loathed that about him. And loved it.

  His crazy mane of golden hair had come loose when the rubber band broke. It was somewhat fitting, but Cerise didn’t want him to look quite so wild when she introduced him to Ileana. They needed information from her. “That hair,” she murmured regretfully. “I wish I had time to cut it—”

  He grabbed his hair in his fist and in a blindingly fast motion drew his razor-sharp dagger through it. Tousled waves fell to his shoulders, and he tossed the mass of cut hair aside. He sheathed his knife and ran his hands through his remaining hair. “Better?”

  “Much.” She glanced at the ground where a gust of wind blew the fallen strands, scattering them even as they became powdery gold. She bent to touch the glimmering dust that gilded the ground.

  “Someone will wonder what this is,” she said.

  “No one will notice it. The earth and the air will absorb it in moments. Even if they did not, human beings would pass it by. The aspects of an angel are hard for them to see.”

  She looked up at him. “Is that why ES didn’t see your dagger? When you were wounded, I took you into the house, but I forgot the dagger at first. The ES officers shined a light right on it but didn’t seem to notice.”

  Lysander nodded.

  “Could you become completely invisible to them?” she asked.

  “Not while I’m flesh.”

  “Too bad. That would certainly make things easier.”

  Lysander couldn’t fly, so if he entered into a conflict with ES officers, it wouldn’t come to an end until someone had won. No matter who that was, she would lose. She walked to the door and looked out at the street. He didn’t know the way to Ileana’s so she could take whatever circuitous route she wanted, but there was no route that would ensure that they wouldn’t come across a patrol. She needed his cooperation. “If you want to meet Ileana, you need to agree to take whatever route I choose to get to her house.”

  His mouth opened a fraction and then he closed it. “I agree to follow your route…within reason.”

  “Okay,” she said, peering outside again.

  “But if at any point you decide to dive into the bushes for cover, don’t expect me to join you. I won’t be,” he said, sounding faintly amused.

  She appraised him coolly, looking him up and down. Her gaze paused at his groin and then slowly rose to meet his eyes. “If you’d been willing to roll around in the bushes with me, I would’ve made it worth your while, but…” she trailed off with a shrug and turned back to the window.

  She felt him at her back, his breath cool and sweet near her ear.

  “If I had a purpose for lying in the grass, it couldn’t be considered hiding.”

  She turned her head so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. His beautiful jaw was within reach of her tongue. It tempted her in the most maddening way.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she whispered. “If we make it through the Etherlin without anyone seeing us, when we get back to Alissa’s house and we’re alone, you can shove me against any wall you want and do whatever you’d like. Within reason.”

  His voice was husky and rough and unapologetically male when he said, “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 16

  Cerise felt like a creature of the night herself. They strode through the shadows and wove through the trees. They didn’t speak, didn’t make much of a sound. Sure-footed and silent, she held his hand and gave it only the smallest press or tilt to indicate a change of direction. It was like dancing with him had been. Their bodies were very close as they moved, and yet there was no awkward bumping into each other, no tangling of feet. At moments, she felt as though she could close her eyes and walk blind, following only her instincts and the sway of their linked hands.

  As the dark deepened, it tested the way they moved, but they never faltered.

  Yeah, I’m the lock and he’s the key.

  Twice there were officers patrolling and three times there were civilians nearby, but she and Lysander weren’t spotted even when a young couple passed within a few feet of them. Cerise leaned against a tree and pulled Lysander against her. Content to have their bodies pressed together, she and Lysander tasted each other’s mouths while the couple walked on without their gaze ever being drawn to where a muse and an archangel silently kissed.

  When they reached Ileana’s, Cerise paused at the edge of the house. She glanced down to where their fingers were still intertwined, not ready to let go.

  “You rival the air,” he whispered.

  She tilted her head. “What does that mean?” she whispered back.

  He shook his head, hesitating. “To fly, to glide, to fall through clouds…To be surrounded by nothing but air, whether the whipping winter wind or the stillness of a hot summer night, it can almost feel like being in heaven. Just walking with you, the way you move beside me, as if you were gliding on the same slipstream…I didn’t know it was possible for a woman to rival the air.”

  She smiled and stepped forward, putting her free hand on the back of his neck and drawing him down. She pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss.

  “Come on,” she said. “The sooner we talk to Ileana, the sooner we’ll be done talking to Ileana and can find a wall someplace private.”

  He flashed a smile as they strode to the door. She rang the bell and waited. There were lights on in the second story rooms facing the street, and within moments the foyer light blinked on as well.

  When the door opened, however, it was Troy rather than Ileana Rella who stood in the doorway. Troy was effortlessly handsome in his black trousers, snakeskin belt, and burgundy knit shirt. His black hair gleamed like patent leather and was perfectly styled as always.

  “Hey, Cerise,” he said with an easy smile. Then his gaze settled on Lysander and the smile faded. “Who’s this?”

  “He’s a friend. May we come in? I need to talk to Ileana about something.”

  “Actually, she’s not here.”

  Cerise nearly began asking questions about where Ileana was, but didn’t want to have the conversation while she and Lysander were standing on the stoop where any ES patrol that marched by could spot them.

  “That’s a shame. Can we come in anyway?” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she opened the screen door and pressed forward.

  Troy stepped back to let her inside, but his focus remained on Lysander.

  “This is Lysander. Lysander, this is Troy Rella. Ileana’s brother.”

  “Hello,” Troy said, nodding at Lysander, then he returned his attention to Cerise. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? A glass of wine?”

  Lysander closed the door gently behind them.

  “No thanks,” Cerise said, looking at Troy’s hands. Could they have been the hands that had put something in her wine? After Alissa’s warning and knowing that Troy had links to the Molly Times and to Ileana, both of which had encountered Reziel’s subject on earth, she found herself scrutinizing him in a way she never had before. “If Ileana’s out, why are you here?”

  “I stopped by to water her plants.”

  Cerise’s head tilted forward, a ball of unease forming in the pit
of her stomach. Ileana rarely left the Etherlin. “Is she out of town?”

  He nodded.

  “Where is she?” Cerise asked, keeping her tone light.

  Troy’s dark eyes slid sideways to follow Lysander, who had walked to the living room coffee table to look at the books of architectural photo commemoratives featuring the work of Rella aspirants through the years.

  “Who is he?” Troy whispered.

  “He’s a musician.”

  Troy narrowed his eyes. “He’s more than that.”

  “Troy, where is Ileana?”

  “She’s with a new aspirant. Promising young guy she met at the architects’ expo we sponsored in Denver a few months ago.”

  “Did you meet her new aspirant? What’s he like?”

  “He’s talented and a pretty big flirt from what I gather. He’s too young to be more than a fling, but they seem to be having a good time together,” Troy said with a brief smile.

  Lysander walked to the stone fireplace.

  “Have I ever met him?” Cerise asked.

  “Who? Ileana’s new aspirant?”

  She nodded.

  “Why would you have? You don’t travel in those circles.”

  She heard something in his voice that stiffened her spine. He’s lying.

  “Has he been to the Etherlin? Maybe stayed overnight at Ileana’s building at Ionic and Temple Boulevard?”

  Lysander moved the iron fireplace grate aside.

  “I doubt it. I don’t think she’s even applied to get him clearance.”

  Lysander leaned down, stirring the ashes with a poker.

  “What are you doing?” Troy asked. When Lysander didn’t answer, Troy scowled. “Hey, Lysander is it? Do you mind?”

  “Sorry. He’s a little eccentric. Do you have a number for Ileana’s new aspirant? I need to talk to her, and as usual she’s not answering her texts,” Cerise said with an indulgent smile.

  Lysander straightened, setting the poker in the stand and moving the grate back to its original location.

  “I don’t have a number for him. You’ll have to wait until she calls you back.”