“What do you mean?” he asked. She slipped her hands from his and ran a hand over her face. “I’m older than I look. My parents, my life-” She drifted off not knowing how to continue, but knowing that she had to. It needed to be said. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists.
“Doc, whatever it is can’t be that bad.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was searching her face for some hint of what she was trying to say.
“I care about you so much,” she whispered. “I was born,” she started again. “My family-” she paused again, her brow creased with the weight of her confession, and she exhaled.
“Just say it, Celeste,” Remy said as he emerged from the guest bedroom. He wore blood red leather pants so tight they looked as if they had been painted on. He pushed up the sleeves of the V-neck sweater in the same shade of red above his elbows, his eyes on them. He moved further into the room, his black boots making a soft thunking noise against the carpet. Eli looked at him closely, noting his eyes were so black that his pupils were indistinguishable. Funny, he thought, he’d have sworn Remy had brown eyes.
“Will you shut up?” she barked. “I thought you went home.” She stood, suddenly nervous and her eyes began to glow.
“Nah, I thought you might need a little-back up,” he said with a toothy grin showing off a pair of gleaming white fangs. Now that, Eli thought, was definitely something he would have remembered. “He seems the type to need a little-convincing,” Remy teased.
“Okay, now you really need to tell me what’s going on?” He took a nervous step back, dropping Celeste’s hands. He would never believe her if she just told him. Telling wasn’t enough. It never was.
She looked at Remy who seemed to hold his breath as he waited. Dreading that she had to do this at all, tears dropped from her eyes hitting the floor as she stood silent. Eli watched in silence as Celeste took a knife from the cutlery block on the island and sliced her forearm open, from wrist to elbow. He’d only had a second to register what had happened before he sprang into action.
“Jesus Christ!” He grabbed a dish towel before scurrying back to her side. The blood poured out in a thick vivid river pooling on the floor at her feet. He grabbed her arm, intending on putting pressure on the wound, to stop the bleeding, as she stood unmoving. He looked at Remy who seemed unfazed by what had just happened, but watched him instead of his sister.
“Oh baby, what have you done?” he choked, “Why are you just standing there?” He barked at Remy who folded his arms across his chest and watched. Eli’s stomach churned in what he briefly thought to be hunger as the scent of her blood wafted up to him. The smell was sweet and warm, and he was tempted to lick her, an impulse that had gotten stronger each time her was with her, an impulse that he quickly ignored.
She didn’t have to look at him to see the shock on his face when the blood was wiped away. Beneath the soaked towel, her skin was perfectly intact, there was no hint of a cut or even a scratch. Stunned silent, Eli put his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. He let out a high pitched startled scream and took a nervous step back, stumbling on the rug, his eyes never leaving her.
Her eyes were full neon cobalt, void of any hint of white; her teeth were fully extended a long sparkling white with very pointed tips.
“Holy-What are you?” he asked softly, backing away. “Are you a vampire? No I’ve seen you in daylight-unless that’s just a myth-what are you?” he repeated, sitting heavily on the nearest sofa. He was thinking that he was dreaming or still drunk from the night before because there was no way this was really happening. “Or am I losing my mind?” His eyes never left the two of them. His blood ran cold and gooseflesh rose on his bare skin. This couldn’t be happening; he just couldn’t be seeing what he was seeing.
“You aren’t losing your mind.” she assured, glancing at Remy who stood watching for any signs of trouble. Eli looked from Remy to Celeste then back again.
“Are you going to kill me?” he asked, and Remy snorted.
“As if we could,” Remy murmured.
Celeste shot him a look and Remy instantly fell silent, his face solemn. Eli watched her as she retracted the teeth and her eyes faded back to some semblance of human. “And no, I’m not a vampire. “
“Oh, she’s much more than that.” A deep heavily accented male voice came from the elevator as the doors silently slid open.
“Gaston,” she breathed as he entered the room.
He was slightly taller and wider than Remy, but the resemblance was incredible. They shared the same thick wavy hair, his cut shorter and neater than Remy’s slightly spiked Mohawk; but their skin was the same deep tawny shade of golden brown and they shared those deep brown eyes. He wore khakis and a button front pale green oxford shirt rolled at the wrists. He looked like an older, more sedate version of his brother. He had none of the bold cockiness that seemed to surround Remy, yet he still held the same aura of danger and mystery. He looked at Eli and smiled, tilting his head in curiosity,
“And so are you, isn’t he, CeCe? My God isn’t he extraordinary? One might even say he was –beautiful.” He moved closer to Eli, running a casual hand over the man’s bare arm, his eyes coming to rest on the mark on Eli’s chest. When Eli flinched and rose to his full height, Gaston narrowed his eyes and sneered.
Possessing none of Remy’s soft prettiness, Gaston was rugged and chiseled, sophisticated, and held himself with an air of superiority and entitlement. He inhaled deeply, his eyes closed as he became intoxicated by the smell of Celeste’s freshly drawn blood. He opened his eyes, revealing that they had become a liquid black that shimmered in the light. His fangs were long and pristine, as if he’d never used them, and razor sharp. His eyes lingered on Eli for a long time, taking him in with something like lust but not quite. No, not lust, Eli realized. It was awe.
“Remy, have you had the pleasure?” He spoke in a cool deep voice, his eyes never straying from Eli.
“No, not yet,” Remy rocked back on his heels, the mocking smile as well as the fangs had returned. For some reason, the fangs seemed to fit Remy more than they did his brother. Perhaps it was his demeanor, or his threateningly jovial persona. No matter what, right now he trusted Remy a hell of a lot more than he trusted Gaston. Gaston studied Celeste, and then turned his attention back to Eli. His brow creased in study, then rose in surprise.
“You’ve given yourself to him. Then this is your Det. Cain.” He sneered, his eyes flashing. Many thoughts played across his face, but nothing seemed to be appropriate to address. He glanced at Eli again appreciatively, and took note of Celeste’s tear stained face.
“He is a good physical match for you. You have made your choice; I hope he proves to be worthy of you. For his sake, at least. We will leave you then. Remy-” Remy was visibly disappointed, but did not protest. Gaston rose purposefully, kissed his sister’s cheek and headed toward the exit, Remy trailing along obediently, and for once, silent. Before the elevator doors closed, Remy looked back at Eli.
“Whatever you do, Detective, don’t piss her off. She’s pretty, but she is Death. She would kill you without a second thought.” The doors closed, shutting out Gaston’s maniacal chuckle.
***
The silence in the room was palpable as they were left alone. Eli stood away from her, his mouth open as he stared at Celeste. His Celeste was- he shook his head, he really didn’t know what she was. “What’s more than a vampire?” he finally asked. She suddenly found it difficult to put it into words. She closed her eyes and exhaled.
“It’s complicated.” she sighed. That was the understatement of the century, Eli thought.
“Did you infect me? Is that why you’re telling me this now? Am I going to turn into – what are you?” he asked suddenly, rubbing the bite marks on his shoulder. He was stunned numb. His mind refused to work clearly, but shot to several conclusions at once; his foggy memories from the night before coming back in a jumbled, incoherent rush. “You drugged me into forgetting
.” he accused.
“No. I- didn’t. It wasn’t a drug exactly- and I warned you not to drink it. I can’t infect you or influence you. I have no power over you. None. Your will is your own. That’s the thing that makes you my perfect match. Eli, look at me, you felt it when we met. There is something that draws us together.” She spoke slowly hoping he would understand what she was alluding to. He shook his head in confusion and threw his hands up.
“Okay, look, I’m trying really hard not to freak the fuck out, so just tell me. What are you? Are you in some sort of cult? What are those people called- Harps? Those people who wear costumes and pretend to be fairies? Or Magicians? Is this some sort of illusion like David Blaine? Or that mind freak clown?” He stood and started walking towards her.
“You mean Live Action Role Players, and no we aren’t LARPS- this is real.” She rubbed her temple with her fingers and exhaled. Now it was her turn to pace.
“Okay, Okay. I can do this. If he freaks, he just freaks.” She stopped pacing and looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “You were raised Catholic right?” He nodded. “Okay, then you have heard of the Nephilim.” Again he nodded, this time slowly.
“We-” she pointed to him then back to herself, “Actually- You- are the Nephilim. That’s what the mark means.” She indicated his chest. He stared at her for a moment then snorted disbelievingly.
“Angels don’t have fangs.” He said, eyeing her suspiciously. This woman was crazy, he thought. “Absolutely bat shit bonkers,” as Remy had eloquently put it.
“I’m not crazy. Just- I’m not Nephilim at all. What I am- doesn’t technically exist.” She spoke in a rush and Eli stared at her for a long time, unblinking. She twisted her fingers and chewed her lip nervously as she waited for him to react. He sat down slowly, his eyes on her. She was beautiful and seemed so small and delicate standing there in his bright blue Superman t-shirt that hung just to her thighs. She ran a hand over her disheveled hair and waited.
“You’re fucking insane,” he finally said with a choking laugh. “And you’ve brought me into your psychosis.”
“I am not insane. Neither are you.” She exhaled and shook her head kneeling before him; she took his hands into hers.
“All of this business with your friend Nicky- did you do that to him?” he asked.
“No, of course not, you saw what did that. I had nothing to do with Nicky’s change.”
“Is Remy a Nephilim?” he asked
“No. Remy is a different sort of crossbreed. Remy is a Dhampiric shape shifter.”
“Jonas?” he pressed. She exhaled and stood rubbing her brow.
“Jonas is a Dhampir, a day walker, human Vampire hybrid. “
“So this entire time, this whole murder mystery missing body shit was just a trick to get to me? I knew you knew more than you’d let on. So this was some kind of game for you. You and your family pull in some dumb ass off the street and play with their heads- for what?”
“Of course not, Eli. I don’t play games, especially not with you. I have never lied to you. I care about you. Nothing between us is manufactured; it’s all real. I’m real.”
“All the bites, during sex, you were infecting me or feeding on me-” he rambled. She was trying to grasp his train if thought, but he was scattered, confused and agitated. All she could do was wait and answer his questions as calmly as she could. He hadn’t left yet, she told herself over and over again. He was still there; he was still listening, and that mattered more than anything else.
“No. It’s a pleasure thing during sex. Like love bites, not too deep and very little blood is taken. Didn’t you like it? I mean, wasn’t it enjoyable, I tried to make it as pleasurable as I could. I thought you liked it.”
He shook his head, dismissing her question. It had been enjoyable; he couldn’t deny that. Making love to Celeste had been the most amazing sexual experience he’d ever had; and even though rage and confusion were bubbling inside of him at that very moment, he still wanted her in the worse way. Looking at her, standing with her arms wrapped around herself protectively, she was barefoot and make-up free. She looked like a kid, a scared kid.
“Your brother said that you are more. What exactly does that mean?” he said the words carefully. He tracked her progress as she moved to the other side of the room. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Silently she lifted a remote and pushed a button. The curtains in the living room slid closed, blocking the rapidly fading daylight. She turned to look at him and her glamour fell away revealing bright blue eyes flecked with silver. Her hair seemed to shimmer a deeper darker shade if that were possible. It was so black that it seemed to glow violet. Her skin even held a golden glow, as if she had her own personal spotlight. He took a curious step forward, staring.
“I am the Caelestis, Goddess of Redemption and Justice, daughter of Nemesis the Greek Goddess of Vengeance and Anhur, Egyptian God of War, beloved granddaughter of the primordial Nyx, cursed by the Gods to sustain my immortality with the blood of others, and marked by the Fallen One as his true mate. I am the Queen of the Order and Keeper of the Nephilim, the guardians of justice and man. Just-just know that I‘ve never done this for anyone outside of my family, Elijah. And not even all of them, only a few. That’s how important you are to me, that I’m willing to do this.” She pulled the t-shirt over her head and stood back.
“Just watch, okay? Don’t be scared.” She stood before him in naked perfection and her body began to vibrate, after a minute she rose a few inches into the air. She seemed to hum, a dull glow illuminating her silhouette.
“What the absolute fuck?” he whispered to himself and stumbled back a step. She opened her arms and opened her eyes and her entire body burst into blindingly white light, filling the apartment with an overwhelming feeling of peace and an underlying current danger. Her flowing jet hair began to rise around her face in waves of brilliant white shot through with silver. She wore a long white Grecian gown that came to her feet and draped over one shoulder, corseted by the gold armor of a warrior, beautiful ornate golden Egyptian cuffs were at her wrists and neck. A long golden spear appeared in her hand, a quiver of arrows and bow were on her back and a gleaming sword strapped to her hip. She looked fierce, a living effigy of mythical perfection. Tears came to Eli’s eyes as he stared at her, an overwhelming feeling of serenity and worship filled him, and when she looked at him, the lights in the room buzzed and brightened until they began to explode. She was beautifully terrifying, he thought. She was a warrior queen.
He took a cautious step forward, drawn to her, unable to stop himself from going towards her, his hands reaching. He wanted to touch her, taste her. His final thought shook him to his core and his knees went weak.
After a few seconds, the light faded and she landed softly on the floor, her bare feet settling effortlessly on the floor, her human glamour flickering back in place. She stood naked again, her eyes vacant, her entire body trembled, and the glamour dropped again, her body glowing subtly in the dim room. She looked as if she had a light on inside of her; she wobbled unsteadily for a moment, and then collapsed onto the floor. He took an anxious step forward, and then stopped as she held up her hand. He knelt in front of her not sure what to do or say or even how to react. He didn’t know how he felt, surprised, disgusted, and frightened. And somewhere deep down, he was relieved which was the most surprising emotion of all. He didn’t want to run. This, he knew, was something she needed to say, and something he needed to hear.
“Don’t. I‘m fine. It just takes a lot of energy to do that. And I don’t feed as much as I should,” she barked, but she didn’t move for a while. He gently touched her cheek and felt the tension in her body ease away.
“What exactly are you?” He asked again, softer, it still wasn’t connecting in his already over worked mind. Was she a Faery? An angel? He was moving towards her but only slightly. His conflicting emotions played across his face as he looked into her watery eyes. She looked so young and vulnerable sitting on the floor, her
body limp from weakness.
“I am the Caelestis et Nemesis et Anhur. Granddaughter of the primordial Nyx which means I am a Goddess, an immortal. I am very old Eli, very, very old. In our world, we have rules and government- known as the Collective. I am above the Collective and a part of the law. I am Keeper of the Nephilim but I am not one of them, not like you. As you said, I-we are of the world, but not in it.” She repeated his words as she looked into his eyes, her hand on the mark of his chest. It took a moment for him to understand. She looked sympathetic and immediately lowered her gaze. “My mark was given; you were created with yours.”
He felt as if he’d been doused with cold water and half laughed, before he realized what she was saying. Eli slowly rose, backing away from her, running a hand over his mouth and chin. He half choked as he tried to swallow his throat suddenly dry. What she was saying couldn’t be right. His head swam and he took a dizzy step back. This couldn’t be happening; he must still be drunk from the night before, he thought. Or he was drugged. That had to be it. Celeste had warned him off of the frothy pink concoction Jinxie had offered. Maybe it had been laced with some sort of psychedelic drug and he was on an extended trip. He ran his hands over his face. A fine sheen of sweat had formed over his top lip and his heart was racing wildly.
Her eyes were narrowed as she searched his face. Unable to think with her looking at him like that, he turned his back to her and threw the curtains open looking at the darkening sky. It was going to rain soon; he could smell it on the air. The wind had picked up and the trees below in the court yard swayed slightly in the breeze. What she was saying couldn’t be true. She didn’t really mean what he thought she meant.
“Me? Are you trying to tell me that you think I’m whatever you are?” He turned to see her stand with great effort, wiping blood away from her nose with the back of her hand. She shook her head and was instantly dressed in jeans and a dark blue argyle sweater. Her hair pulled away from her face in a long braid that hung down her back. He gapped at her in astonishment. On unsteady feet, she stumbled to the kitchen her hands out in front of her as if she were preparing herself for a fall.
The First to Fall: A Fallen Novel (The Fallen Series) Page 25