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

by Tanisha D. Jones

  ***

  Instead of heading towards her apartment on Annunciation Street, he turned onto St. Charles Avenue and headed to State Street. Exhaling, he focused on the road putting his most base need for her at bay, for the time being anyway.

  “All good things,” he told himself as he tried not to stare at her long silken legs in the dim lightening cast into the interior by the street lights outside. She shivered as they drove, the dress not providing much warmth. Leaning forward to adjust the heat, the draping at the top of the dress shifted and Eli caught a glimpse of her breasts. They were full perfectly rounded, her nipples erect, like caramel kisses. His hands itched to touch her, to take her into his mouth. A tiny groan escaped him, involuntarily.

  “Too hot? Want me to turn it down?” She asked as a blast of warmth blasted the interior.

  “Yes, but it has nothing to do with the heater.” He saw her smirk, and he was sure that she was biting her lip the way she did, but she didn’t say anything.

  Thinking they were heading to some night club, he was naturally surprised when he recognized the brick wall that encircled what had at one time been a psychiatric facility that at one point had been a military hospital. They stopped at the gate where two rather large guards were posted before the intricately designed golden gates.

  They approached the car on either side, both so large that they nearly had to kneel to look into the windows. Eli rolled down the windows as they moved closer, when he realized that they were twins. Both huge with thick dark hair and tobacco brown eyes. He had never seen eyes like that on a person before; they reminded him of a canine’s eyes.

  “Good evening,” the one on Eli’s side of the car spoke with a thick Southern drawl. Their thoughts were distinct, sort of wild and haphazard.

  She leaned forward into the light and smiled before saying something in Russian. The two smiled and returned her greeting. The thick Southern drawl replaced with perfect Russian. The way they spoke to her, with such fluidity in ease; there was no doubt that it was their native tongue.

  “Eli, these are the Kulivichek twins. Ivan,” the one on Eli’s side of the car inclined his head. “And Vlad.” The twin near Celeste lifted a hand in greeting.

  “Your brother is in there. I guess that’s why you’re here.” Vlad said.

  “Have fun. Call us if you need help.” Ivan gave them a knowing wink before he motioned to someone inside the little guard booth and the gates swung open. As they drove through, a third man, just as big, but with blond hair, waved at them. “Have fun, Ms. CeCe.” He called in the same Southern twang.

  “Come here often?” Eli teased.

  As they roared up the driveway, the place looked nothing like Eli’s vague memories. The land had housed a full hospital, recreation facility, a separated office building and cottages on the outer perimeter. They were no longer there; instead the land had been converted into a palatial wonderland. The house sat up high on a man-made hill, a white English Country manor, with vines of ivy and roses creeping up the sides. The surrounding land was all meticulous gardens of flowers and fruit trees. The greenery seemed to be neon, filling night air with an eerie glow. It was as if they’d driven into a greenhouse or a Thomas Kinkade painting. The air was heavy with flowery perfume and something else, something mystical.

  The street wound towards the house and her heart began to thud in her chest. Remy was in there. So was Julian, and this night could go one of two ways. He would either have been too entranced by his surroundings to be concerned about what he was seeing, or he would run screaming into the night never to be seen again.

  Eli guided the car to the circular driveway at the front of the house, where valets, all young men, all with angelic faces, parked cars. They were all bright eyed and smiling, none seemed to be over the age of 15 years, and all had bright rosy cheeks. Cherubic was the word that came to mind. As they got out, one of the young men touched his arm, and a sudden feeling of calm overcame him.

  “What is this place?” he asked, numbly. Celeste took his hand; her smile looked a bit strained and nervous, her palms sweating as they crossed the threshold into what could be a disaster of monumental proportions. She stole sidelong glances at Eli, his eyes wide with wonder as she lead him into her world. This would be her litmus test. There had only been one other person she’d allowed to venture into this part of her world. Well, one human person, and that had ended in catastrophe. If he could deal with the crazy surreal world that she lived in, surely he would be able to handle the truth of whom and what she was. At least, that was what she was hoping.

  “It’s Jinxie’s,” she said, watching as his eyes became alight with excitement.

  ***

  Inside the house, Eli wasn’t sure what to make of the place. The floors were polished black marble, the walls slate and even though the outside was blindingly white, inside was dark greys, black, and red. It reminded him of a bordello.

  He followed Celeste into the great room, which was packed with the oddest collection of people Eli had ever seen. They were young for the most part, many of them stunning, but there were a few who seemed to hum with vibrant color, and others who seemed to have a matte, almost dustiness, to their skin. Then there were the large ones, like those at the gates, maybe eight or nine of them, male and female. There were women and men running around dressed as fairies with large elaborate wings, their faces painted in glitter and all, their topless bodies painted with leaves and flowers. They flitted through the garden and danced in cages, strategically placed throughout the entire first floor. As the fairies floated around the room, they left a trail of fine gold and silver glitter on everything.

  “Freakin’ pixie dust, don’t inhale it,” Celeste mumbled, brushing the sprinkles from her dress, but it was too late. One of the female fairies touched his cheek, and Eli was overcome with a feeling of absolute joy and release.

  Most of the waiters, shuffling through the crowd with trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvers, were dressed in togas and held stony expressions, bowing as they passed. Celeste grabbed two glasses of wine, handing one to Eli, before they moved further into the room. He felt his face spread into a wide almost maniacal smile and for the life of him, he didn’t know why. There was a scream somewhere in the back of the house, followed by a loud laugh, then a splash. Someone, a woman he thought, had been thrown into a pool. The music was loud and undulating. People moved, swaying wherever they stood some in various stages of undress and others either completely unaware or simply unconcerned. Celeste watched Eli closely, his eyes a cobalt blue, dancing drunkenly. Smiling, she relaxed, but only a little.

  “What is this place?” He asked again, but before she could answer there was a scream of delight coming from the entryway of the great room. No one looked at all surprised or even looked at the petite woman with dark hair.

  She was only about five feet in heels, but she seemed to fill the room with her presence. Her eyes were large, sharply slanted upward and overpowered her small face. She wore a bright green 1950’s style cocktail dress; the paleness of her skin was in deep contrast to the bright red of her lips, darkness of her hair and the vivid grass green of her eyes. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and giggled like a pre-teen. Her hair was a short cap of dark Betty Boop like curls that came down just long enough to cover the tops of her ears.

  As she approached, Eli felt his joy rise, he was downright giddy. There was a bright light of elation around her, radiating in waves to those around her. His own eyes began to glow bright turquoise in response, and he smiled down at her goofily.

  “CeCe, so glad to see you.” She held a martini, almost the exact shade of green as her eyes in her right hand, hugging Celeste with her left arm. She had a deep southern drawl, a bright smile, and he assumed that this was their hostess. She looked at Eli approvingly, her eyes roaming his body from head to toe.

  “My, aren’t you a big one?” She said breathlessly. “Are you big everywhere?” He tilted his head to the side, his hands going inexplicab
ly to the button of his jeans,

  “Well, let’s find out,” he teased. She stood waiting expectantly. Celeste put a staying hand on his, shaking her head when he looked at her curiously.

  “Det. Elijah Cain, this is my good friend Jinxie Monroe. Jinxie, Eli Cain.” He took her out stretched hand and gave it a brisk shake.

  “It’s a pleasure,” he said, finding himself wondering what was happening to him; he felt so free, so completely relaxed. She held onto his hand tightly, surprisingly strong for someone her size.

  “It certainly could be.” She gave him a wink, and picked up a glass of something pale pink, as a waiter hustled by.

  “Welcome to my home.” Jinxie handed him the drink, and he obligingly took it. “CeCe, I think the party you are looking for is occupied somewhere on the third floor. Ya’ll have fun now, hear.” She gave him another wink before sashaying away. Eli had the rim of the glass to his lips, when Celeste took it from him.

  “You don’t want to drink that. It’s Jinxie’s special nectar. You’ll wake up three days from now naked in a ditch somewhere in Plaquemines Parish.” She downed the entire glass before taking his hand and leading him into the room. For the most part, he just observed the evening, standing beside her and watching as she laughed and talked, her eyes coming to rest on him every once in a while. Everyone seemed to hold her in some sort of reverence, like their own personal celebrity. He also found it odd, that they all bowed to her, like royalty.

  Once in a while, he would feel a stray hand caressing him, his chest, and his butt. Once someone reached for his crotch, only to have their wrist grabbed by Celeste. He had found himself more than once touching others. At one point, he was randomly stroking the flame red hair of a woman in a white dress. She smiled and leaned into him, before Celeste came and dragged him away.

  “Oh, CeCe doesn’t share her toys?” The woman pouted, and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn that Celeste had hissed at the woman. There was a silence, and then the offending young woman bowed her head apologetically before leaving the room in a hurry. She sat him on a sofa nearby in order to keep an eye on him and continued her conversation with a large male and one of the dusty looking women.

  As he watched her, he felt someone watching him. He sought out his watcher; his eyes falling on a youngish man in his either his late twenties or early thirties. He was tall, muscular, but not bulky. He was pretty, as men go, with dark unruly hair, and eyes so large and so blue they shimmered. His skin was dark, a deep tan but seemed to have an undercurrent of light, or something just beneath the surface. He wore a red shirt with intricate black designs running diagonally across the bottom and black leather pants. He stared holes through Eli. Eli smiled goofily at him.

  As he turned away, he came face to face with another man, large with dark hair and skin and eyes the color of an autumn sunset. He stared at Eli and growled low and deep in his throat.

  “Watch yourself, pislik,” he mumbled through clenched teeth. Eli stared at him, and smiled.

  “Don’t call me an asshole, pislik,” Eli growled back, suddenly aware that he spoke Turkish. The other man stepped closer, his eyes sparked with fire. Eli smiled. His blue eyes alight by the prospect of a fight. He hadn’t had a fight for as long as he could remember. He needed a good fight.

  “You must really want me to rip a hole in your hide, boy.” Eli grinned stupidly.

  “Oh, you think this is funny?” The fist that was intended for Eli’s face was stopped when Celeste grabbed the man’s wrist. He growled again as she dropped the hand and gave him a look of warning.

  “I see you’ve met Elijah. Eli, this is Julian. I see you’ve moved onto another man in my life to pick a fight with. I knew you were obsessed with me, but really.” Julian laughed and she smiled, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Don’t flatter yourself CeCe.” He growled. “I just don’t like the trash that you seem to drag around.” She snorted.

  “Really? Is that why you’re here trying to start a fight with Remy? Honestly Julian, don’t we have enough to worry about right now? I don’t need you two idiots trying to start a turf war while we’re in the middle of-” She glanced at Eli who had wandered away from them. She spotted him wandering aimlessly up the stairs. Sighing she turned back to Julian. “In the middle of this mess.” He smirked and took a long hard appraising look at her and ran his tongue over one of his rather large incisors.

  “I must admit, you are looking mighty foxy.” Julian ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She snorted again.

  “Foxy? How 1975. I want you to cool it with Remy. Please Julian, I’ve got bigger fish to fry tonight, the last thing I need is to be referee. Help me out here.” Julian’s bravado faded at the desperation in her tone. He glanced at the stairs as Eli disappeared down the hallway.

  “That detective, you‘re right about him. Something is binding him, but it’s so close to the surface you can smell it. If he is what you say he is, we will have bigger problems than this creature and whether or not I take a bite out of Remy’s narrow ass.” She smiled weakly and gave Julian a pat on the arm as he walked past her.

  “Yes, I know.”

  The fact of the matter was, if he was what she thought, this would go beyond the Collective. This would go straight to the Council of the Gods. Exhaling, she continued her search for her errant brother to drag him home and put him to bed.

  Eli wandered around the labyrinth of rooms upstairs. He’d discovered what he assumed to be an orgy. There was a mass of bodies writhing around, all oiled up and moaning, like a pile of snakes knotted together. Another room held a trio where one man was being tied up and two small Asian women took turns throwing bologna at him. Each time a slice slapped against his bare skin, the man would moan in ecstasy. This, Eli discovered, was a pleasure he would never understand. There were more exotic forms of sexual release going on in other rooms of the house. He found the party attendees to be a rather bizarre and artistic bunch, colorfully dressed, rainbow-maned people with dancing eyes. Sure, he received a few curious glances but never more than that as they practiced their diversions. Jinxie’s place was like Bourbon Street on Halloween, and he found himself very at home in this place. None of this seemed odd or out of place to him; it seemed, for a lack of a better term, familiar.

  As he made his way back down into the great room, he could hear raised voices and breaking glass. Pushing his way through the crowd he could hear Celeste and a man yelling at each other. She stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot in frustration as Eli’s silent stalker and Julian grappled in the center of the floor. Celeste stepped in between them, without a word and held her hands up. She looked at Julian who angrily swiped at the blood trickling from his lip. He lunged and she shook her head, staying him with a silent pleading look. Julian seethed, his eyes drifting over to Eli who stood watching before he bowed his head, turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Celeste grasped the other man by the arm and ushered him to the side of the room as the party continued. The man stumbled drunkenly, and Eli smirked. One thing about being a cop in New Orleans, you could spot a drunk a mile away and this guy was past drunk, he was completely wasted.

  Jinxie appeared out of nowhere beside Eli, now in a lemon yellow 1950’s style tea length party dress with a full skirt and matching pumps, standing next to him shaking her head. “Poor, Remy. That boy has been in love with her for as long as I’ve known him. He just can’t get past the fact that she’s his sister. And Julian- well we all want a piece of Julian.” She said matter of factly.

  “That’s her brother?” he asked, watching as the two had a heated agreement on the opposite side of the room. He was gesturing wildly, and she simply managed to look annoyed, her arms folded across her chest as he continued his manic rant. Celeste was unflinching in her steeliness and she said something that made Remy step back an inch; he looked as if she’d struck him.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as deliciously inc
estuous as it sounds.” Jinxie continued. “CeCe was fifteen when she moved to the house. She was sixteen when Jonas adopted her. Remy is only a year or so older than her. It’s not like he’s known her since she was a baby. To him, she came into his family as is. There was even talk that Jonas wanted her specifically for Remy. To marry, be his woman or whatever the hell it is you people do now.” Jinxie explained. She scooped one of those pale pink drinks from a passing tray and handed it to him. He downed it without even tasting it. “My belief is that you fuck who you fuck until you get bored, and then you move on. So maybe they should fuck and get it over with. But they will never do that. She is the Caelestis after all. She is special.” Eli nodded dumbly, his eyes on the heated exchange. There was that name again. He looked at Jinxie, clearly intending to ask her what exactly Caelestis was when Remy’s voice seemed to echo through the entire house.

  “Him? Him?” Remy was saying, waving his hand in their direction. Celeste stood taller, her back straight as she poked Remy in the chest with a finger. She was saying something in a foreign language, from what Eli could catch from his vantage point. Her mind was like a steel trap, her body rigid with anger and frustration. Remy had done something, something she found disgusting and mean spirited. He opened his mouth to say something, but she uttered one phrase and Remy shrank, devastated.

  Bored with their fight, Jinxie turned to Eli, studying him openly. “What are you?” She asked. He shrugged numbly. “You’re not one of the Fae; though you’re pretty enough. I don’t get Fae from you. And even though you’re big enough, I don’t get anything animal from you-so that’s not it. You are definitely not a child of Eve?” He looked at her in confusion.

  “I am a child of Pauline Babineaux Cain.” He muttered drunkenly.

  “Babineaux? You’re Gracie’s boy.” She slapped his arm as if it all made perfect sense. “Of course. I knew you looked familiar; the eyes are a dead giveaway. I should have seen it, but your auras kind of funny. It’s all muted, that’s what‘s throwing me off.”