The First to Fall: A Fallen Novel (The Fallen Series)

by Tanisha D. Jones

  “Eli, it’s so cute,” she gushed. He glanced at her briefly as he surveyed the items in the refrigerator.

  “Thanks, I think. So what would you like?” He asked.

  “What do you have?” She asked.

  “I can make you whatever you want. I have steak, fish, pasta, what are you in the mood for?”

  “I would kill for a pizza with pepperoni, sausage and Canadian bacon and a nice cold beer.” He closed the fridge and picked up the phone.

  “Thin crust or deep dish?” He dialed quickly, placing two ice cold beers on the marble island in the middle of the room as he spoke into the phone. She rose slowly, coming to stand beside him, leaning against cool marble, her legs crossed lazily at the ankles as she twisted the top off of her beer. She had just taken a sip, when he came to stand in front of her, his legs akimbo, the hard muscle of his thighs trapping her legs, his hands on the counter on either side of her. She took another sip of the beer forcing it past the lump that had formed in her throat, as the feel of his body pressed against hers set her ablaze.

  “Pizza should be here in about thirty minutes,” he said, gently taking the bottle from her numb fingers, setting it gently on the counter. She bit her lip waiting as he took the hat from her head so that he could look at her face without obstruction.

  “What can we do for thirty whole minutes?” She asked and he lowered his head, touching her lips with his and the warmth that had started low in the center of her erupted into a fully-fledged burn. She leaned into him, her hands on the waist of his jeans; she pulled him closer, pressing her hips into him. There was a soft guttural noise that came for one of them; she wasn’t sure which at that moment, because he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving in to taste her. She gasped in surprise when he lifted her onto the counter, his mouth on her neck.

  Her hands moved from the waist of his pants, under the soft cotton of his t-shirt and hoodie to the hot hard skin beneath. He pressed into her, grinding his hips into her and this time she knew the moan had come from her. He cupped her breast, his thumb worrying her hardened nipple through the layers of clothing, before slipping underneath. He nipped at her neck, his tongue tracing intricate little designs in her skin and she held him tighter. He reached for the clasp of her bra, releasing it and freeing her breasts. When his hard palm touched her bare skin, his palm grazing her swollen puckered nipple, a shiver of excitement went through her.

  He was so gentle, she thought, no one had ever been this gentle with her. They had wanted her, she supposed but they had never kissed her the way he was kissing her and that made her want him even more. The others had never made promises; they had never even kissed her. They had not caressed her until she melted or even cared if she wanted them. They just forced themselves inside of her, grunting when they were done, leaving her covered in their smells.

  “You would never hurt me, would you Elijah?” She thought her breath soft and hot against his ear as he nuzzled her neck. He pulled away as if he’d been slapped and stared at her. She looked so beautiful, her lips parted and kiss swollen, her eyes hooded, and her breath coming harsh and ragged.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Who hurt you, Doc?” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and watched as her eyes faded from vibrant turquoise to a deep indigo. She shook her head and eased away from him.

  “Don’t do that,” she whispered, sliding from the counter top refastening the clasp of her bra and recapturing her beer.

  “Don’t go into my head like that.” She turned her back to him, a look of pure pain briefly crossed her face. He felt something strange pulling in his stomach, and he wanted to just hold onto her.

  “Doc-” He reached for her and she slipped away, moving to the opposite side of the island.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” she said, looking for her hat. “I should go.” She headed for the hallway and he blocked her escape.

  “No, don’t leave. At least wait until the pizza gets here.” She kept her eyes averted and he squatted in front of her, so that he could see her eyes.

  “Don’t make me beg, Doc. I promise I won’t do it again. It just happens sometimes and I can’t help it. Please. I’ll be good. Scouts honor.” He held up his fingers in the Boy Scout salute and she smiled.

  “Were you even a boy scout?” She asked and he straightened.

  “No. But I promise anyway. I’ll even keep my hands to myself.” To prove his point he shoved his fists into his pockets and she granted him a full smile.

  “Okay, but just for the pizza,” she mumbled grabbing the beers and heading into the living room.

  “Just for the pizza,” he agreed and followed her into the living room.

  ***

  The living room held a chill so he started a fire in the fire place and turned on some music, but as soon as he was done, his hands went right back into his pockets. She slipped out of her jacket and hat, her feet curled beneath her as she sat on the sofa, and he in one of the chairs. He made sure he kept his distance and the conversation was stilted and halting. The tension was finally broken when the pizza arrived. She actually laughed out loud when the pizza delivery guy was asked to reach into Eli’s back pocket for his wallet.

  “Hey bro, I don’t need a tip that bad,” the thin teen aged delivery boy had said before backing away. She had done the honors, gladly. She would have given any excuse to touch him again.

  “Okay, you can stop,” she relented and relief washed over him.

  “Thank God. I was trying to figure out how I was going to eat like this,” he teased.

  It only took a moment, but they fell back into easy conversation, the earlier awkwardness forgotten. He spoke of his police work, becoming a homicide detective two years ago. He and Riley worked major cases including missing persons. She spoke of her research in nanotechnology, and he was surprised to discover he understood her jargon quite well. They spoke of books and movies, her favorite being mysteries and thrillers, even the occasional horror story. She had a love of modern art and sad songs. She slept with socks on and often left books in odd places. She discovered that Eli was also an avid reader and spent most of his time listening to music, rarely watched television and spent most of his weekends working or running errands for Grace. He didn’t quite understand art but appreciated beauty.

  They talked and flirted until the sun started to fade and the sky turned a deep shade of navy. He asked about London and Japan and she asked him about why he’d remained single.

  “Just never found the right person.” He shrugged. She stared at him for a long time, looking for some fault in him, some imperfection. The only thing she could find was that perhaps he was a little too odd for the average woman, and he was very reserved almost cold upon first impression. His intensity was unnerving, the way he looked directly at the person he was speaking to, and that whole mind reading thing was a bit unsettling. But beneath the cool and calm he was warm and impulsive; he kept that side of himself in check.

  “You need to loosen up, Eli,” she said as she sipped her second beer, her bare feet resting comfortably in his lap. He sat back, faking indignation.

  “I have plenty of fun,” he assured her.

  “Really?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “I’m having fun right now. Whenever I’m with you, I have a good time.” He stared at her for a long time, his hands kneading the soles of her feet.

  “I wish you would talk to me, Doc,” he said. “You can trust me. I mean, can I at least get your first name?” She bit her lip and looked at him through her lashes.

  “I like when you call me, Doc,” she demurred.

  “Well Doc, talk to me. Who hurt you?” He asked again, his tone low and steady. She looked at him for a moment and exhaled.

  “I didn’t have the best childhood. Things weren’t always good for me,” she mumbled.

  “Have you been- were you?” He choked on the words, knowing the answer without her saying a word. She looked at
her hands and remained silent. He pulled her forward until she was sitting on his lap, and stroked her cheek.

  “Look at me, Doc.” She slowly lifted her eyes until they met his. “I will never hurt you.”

  She gave him a sad smile and cupped his face, brushing his lips gently with hers. The feel of her mouth on his made him hot and he returned the kiss. With a deftness that she didn’t know he possessed, he removed the band from her hair, letting it fall like a silken curtain. His hand moved down to cup her breast and she pressed into him. Slowly, one hand moved up her thigh, his tongue playing with hers, she smiled against his lips. He looked at her curiously.

  “What?” He asked.

  “You promised you would keep your hands to yourself. You, Det. Cain are a horrible boy scout.” Sighing dramatically he held his hands up over his head.

  “You’re right.” He leaned back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. He was so hard it hurt, but a promise was a promise. When she straddled him, he could feel her heat through her jeans and groaned. She brushed against him, her thighs tightening around him, her breast crushed against his chest. She linked her fingers with his, bringing his hands down to cup her butt as she writhed against him, her mouth warm and soft on his neck. He swallowed hard and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “What are you doing? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Well,” she said, her mouth close to his, “I never promised anything.” She teased before slipping her tongue into his mouth. She tasted of pizza and beer and a warm sweetness that was all her. She ground her hips into him, her hands under his shirt, her nails leaving trails of heat on his bare skin, and he could feel his body tighten and strain against his jeans in response.

  “You are making it so hard for me to be good,” he mumbled. She smirked, and then reached under her shirt, fumbling for a minute. He watched as she slipped a pale pink lace bra from one sleeve and tossed it aside. She took one of his hands, placing it on her breast; he could feel her hardened nipple through the thin material of her shirt. She sighed and leaned into his touch, her teeth raking her bottom lip.

  “You play dirty,” he mumbled and rolled her onto her back, where she rested against the cool leather of the sofa, his mouth on her throat. He moved down her body, pushing her shirt up, exposing the taut skin of her stomach. He lifted it further exposing her breasts. He stared for a moment, before taking one taut nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until she arched into him, soft sighs of pleasure escaping her with every stroke of his warm tongue. His fingers worked on the snap of her jeans; when he’d managed to undo the button, he took his time pulling the zipper down so slowly it was agonizing. Finally his hand moved past the denim and flimsy piece of lace she called panties to cup her, and she pressed into his hand. She was wet and warm and he wanted to sink himself into her. She pulled his face up to hers, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him longer and harder than he had ever been kissed before; she took his breath away, her body molded against his, her long denim clad legs tightening around his hips. She opened her mouth to speak, and his phone buzzed, jumping to life on the coffee table. He glanced at the screen and cursed.

  “Shit, shit.” He sat back on his haunches and answered, his breath ragged and shallow. “Somebody better be on fucking fire,” he barked.

  “Jesus,” Riley gasped. “No. I-”

  He hung up and turned to her. She was already sitting up, looking at her watch wincing. It was well after seven. She and Eli had been together for almost eight hours. Outside the sky had darkened, inside the only light was from the fire that cast an amber glow over her exposed skin.

  “I should get going.” She gathered her things, slipping her sneakers back on. Eli stood, running a hand over his face in frustration.

  “I’ll walk you out.” He groaned, putting his own shoes on so that he could walk her to her car, his body still hard and aching. He held up her bra, watching her breasts move as she slipped on her jacket. Her nipples stood out in stark relief against her shirt. He licked his lips and shook his head.

  “Keep it,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “I’m going to kill Riley,” he grumbled as he followed her outside into the chilly night air.

  ***

  They walked in silence, their fingers linked. She unlocked the car door and slipped her things into the back seat. He watched her, his gaze intense. She closed the back door of the SUV, and turned to face him, half leaning against the driver’s door.

  “Can I call you sometime?” She took his buzzing cell phone from his hand, noted the call flashing across the readout with a curious lift of her brow. She was tempted to answer to see who was calling and why. She was hoping it wasn’t the woman he’d been on a date with the other night, because she wanted to hit her. Sighing, she shook her head, what was she doing? She was having murderous thoughts about some unknown woman who Eli obviously had no interest in. Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, she punched in her number under the name CeCe.

  “CeCe? You don’t look like a CeCe to me,” he mumbled, but at least he had a name, something other than Doc.

  “Really? So what would you call me?” Her smile faltered as she looked up at him. He was suddenly standing so close that she had to take a step back. His close proximity made her anxious and without thinking she bit her lip.

  “You’re doing it again,” he growled, his face hovering over hers, one hand holding her hip, the other at the nape of her neck, he pressed her against the car, holding her firmly to him, his mouth gliding over hers and she felt her skin grow hot. He started at her cheek, and then slowly moved over until his lips were on hers, his tongue exploring the ever ready sweetness of her mouth. She moaned involuntarily. Her arms snaked around his waist to pull him even closer. She shifted her hip, pressing herself into him. Large warm hands pressed against her back as he backed her into the side of the car, cool metal against hot skin. She was on fire.

  Damn it, how did he manage to keep doing this to her. She had never been like this with anyone else.

  It took an exceptional effort for him to pull away from her, but he did. When he did manage to take a step back, she’d been thoroughly kissed, and her body tingled from her scalp to the soles of her feet. She felt herself sway slightly before her eyes drifted open. She stared at him with heavy lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted.

  “Sweeter and sweeter every time,” he whispered. Reluctantly backing away from her, he adjusted her hat and stroked her cheek. She climbed into the car on shaky legs and waved as she pulled away from the curb. She watched Eli grow smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, her knuckles grasping the steering wheel so tightly that they had turned white.

  ***

  “Oh mon bon seigneur,” she thought. “This is a problem.” How could she keep her distance from a man who drew her like a magnet? This situation had just gotten a lot more complicated. You can’t keep a man at arms distance when he kissed like that. A sexy smile curled at the corners of her mouth as she remembered his touch and his words. The ring of her cell jolted her back to the here and now. Jonas was calling.

  “Yes Father,” She tried to clear her throat and sound normal, but she knew she didn’t. She had just been thoroughly kissed. You can’t sound normal after that.

  “Are you alright?” He asked his voice filled with concern.

  “Fine, I’m fine. I’m driving. I assume you got the pictures.” He had and he found them as disturbing as she had. This was saying a lot. What was bothersome to him, were the bite marks. Jonas was disturbed by the blood loss and the violence.

  “Even Fae aren’t this vicious. So much blood, so messy. I think you were correct in your assumption, CeCe. This is something different, something demonic,” he said. “Something I have never seen before. I need to know what happened in that bathroom. Do whatever is necessary to find out.”

  “Well, there is one possible option,” she mumbled.

  “Utilize it. Nicky’s time is running out. You need to fin
d him before Briar does. And even though he is trying his best to stall, the Collective won’t wait much longer before they call out another locater. One who does not care who you are or what Nicky means to you.”

  ***

  CeCe mulled over his statement long after she’d hung up. She nervously chewed her bottom lip as she parked her car and marched through the lobby of her apartment building. She knew a way to find out what happened. She knew who could help, the question was, would he be willing to do that for her. She could always make him do it, she had her ways. But then he did seem to be immune to her in that way. The problem wasn’t whether or not he would do it; the question was how long she could resist her attraction to him.

  “Oh hell, CeCe, just ask him,” she mumbled to herself. Just the thought of calling him so soon, sent a nervous tingle through her. The taste of him was still on her lips as she entered her apartment. Dropping her bag onto the nearest sofa, she froze and sniffed the air, her eyes narrowing in expectation. Backing into entry hall, she deftly opened the closet and pulled out a fencing foil, carefully removing the protective guard that ran from the tip to the base of the shaft. Kicking off her shoes, she padded through the apartment, the foil at the ready. There shouldn’t be anyone in here; she had a doorman and security. Damn it.

  He jumped from the loft, landing in a predatory crouch in front of her, his hair standing on end. She swung at him, just missing his ear. He hissed at her, fangs bared and charged, he was fast, almost undetectable, as he rocketed across the room. She was faster, swinging out with experienced ease, slicing his cheek, and he backed off when thick dark blood poured from the wound.

  “Shit, CeCe. That stings!” He yelled, even though the wound was already healing.