“Yes,” she croaked. “To some degree. You are an immortal, one of the divine. I wasn’t sure at first, but then when–I tasted you-during our love making, I saw your true form. I knew without a doubt. It explains our link, our strong attraction. It’s in our chemistry, in our blood. We were destined to cross paths, Elijah. The first time we met wasn’t the first time we’ve met. I was marked by you. When you called me Angel that first day, I knew that you had known of me, on some level, months before we ever met face to face, am I right? Tell me, that first day, before I entered the room, you knew I was coming, didn’t you? It was like you could smell me; you could feel me, right?”
She was right, of course. He had sensed her; he had felt her and knew deep down that he was on the verge of something. He’d dreamed of her, and when he saw her face to face for the first time that afternoon, he’d known that they would be together. He’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted her, and had openly pursued her. Something he had never done before. But he wasn’t like her, he couldn’t be, he thought.
“Tasted me? I don’t have fangs, Celeste. I don’t drink blood- I don’t light up like a fucking Christmas tree, or levitate. My eyes don’t glow –“
“Really? Because they glowed pretty brightly last night while we were making love. And how would you know, anyway? You can’t remember a major part of your life, Eli. Don’t you think that’s a little weird that a huge chunk of your childhood and adolescence is missing? Do you remember your first kiss? How about your kindergarten teacher? So how can you know for sure?”
“How can you know at all?” He yelled.
“I know because I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I never wanted to protect anyone like this before. I never wanted to tell you, but I had to. The Collective found out about you and that is something I never, ever wanted to happen. Never.” She reached for the wine bottled and downed the remainder before reaching for another one. He watched as some of it dripped from her chin, leaving a deep red stain on her skin. The smell filled his senses and he realized why it didn’t smell like the fruity aromatic wines he’d been accustomed to; it was because it wasn’t wine. She was drinking bottled human blood.
The smell of it was appetizingly sweet and strong, and he found himself wanting to taste it, his mouthwatering at the prospect. He was also slightly aroused, and that raised his ire even more. Even though he wanted to, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the deep red liquid dripping down her chin. More than anything he wanted to lick it mingle the taste of the tangy metallic blood with her honeyed tongue.
“It’s donated from family members. I have an entire pantheon of cousins, aunts and uncles who make sure I’m well stocked. Would you like to taste it? I know you want to taste it. It’s a hunger in you, deep down, buried somewhere. You want to taste it. You want to know what I taste like, don’t you?”
She tilted her head and presented her neck to him. He could hear her heart beat. The throbbing of her pulse seemed to echo in his head, drowning out all rational thought. He took a cautious step forward, his mouthwatering, as he focused on the growing thump-thump of her heart, the slight movement in her neck. The warm blood coursing through her veins smelled so sweet, he could just about taste it. For a moment the urge was surprisingly overwhelming and he became enraged, not only with her and what she was saying, but with himself for even wanting it. His mouth watered at the smell, the taste of fresh warm blood flooding his mouth. Angrily, he narrowed his eyes before anger erupted.
“Of course not. This is fucking ridiculous. I know who I am. This is stupid, this is not real. I’m dreaming or in a fog or high and any minute I’m going to wake up.” He screamed, unable control his impulses. He turned away irately, to curb his sudden and astonishing craving. Angrily he slipped the discarded Superman t-shirt on and began searching for his shoes. Her scent was on the shirt and he cringed at the sudden want of her. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale, but he needed to leave. He needed to get out of this place before he went as insane as she was.
“Could you stop yelling? My head is throbbing. And you are fully awake. Believe me, I understand that this is a lot of information, Eli, but it’s the truth.” She downed the second bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips stained deep red.
“Okay,” she exhaled, “think about it, Elijah. All of your abilities, all of the things that make you abnormal to normal human women, make you feel normal with me. We feed off of one another, our abilities are so similar that we can even link them, make them stronger. And the sexual connection-we fit together so perfectly, we change temperatures when we make love. When I look at you- really look at you, into your eyes, the entire world stops. We were destined, Elijah.”
“Is this, between us–real for you? Do you-feel anything? Do you even have emotions or is this just how you suck people in-so that you can feed?” He choked out the words. He’d turned on her so quickly that she took a step back, startled. The color was coming back to her cheeks, the rosy glow giving her an appearance of strength.
“Yes. Of course it is. Do you think I would have given myself to you if it weren’t real? I have dreamed of you, too. I have waited centuries for you.” She moved closer, reaching for his hand and he backed away, taking a nervous step out of her grasp. She’d said centuries, he realized and ran a hand over his mouth. Centuries. This woman, who looked no older than eighteen in her bare feet and fresh face, was older than most of the civilized world.
Centuries.
“This can’t be real,” he gasped.
“Everything between us is real, Eli. I have never lied to you. We belong together. I feel, I have emotions, I hurt, I cry-I lo-”
“I can’t be what you say I am, Doc. I can’t. I’m not a-a blood sucking fucking monster like you!”
***
He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling the pain of the emotional gut punch he’d just leveled at her before looking at her. She looked as if he’d struck her across the face, tears rimmed her translucent eyes.
“Wow,” she whispered. Stunned, she stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. “A monster? You think I’m-a monster? I gave myself to you, body and soul, I was ready to give you my heart and you think I’m a monster? You didn’t think I was a monster last night when you were fucking me. No, then I was your beautiful, perfect Doc. If you ask me, you are the one with no emotions, Eli. You are the monster, not me. I may lock myself away, but it’s to keep emotionally handicapped, self-righteous fucktards like you out.” She started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and she pulled away.
“Descendez de votre main de moi avant que je déchire votre bras foutu au loin.” She bit in French, every word dripped with venomous disgust and he understood that clearly. “Get your hand off of me before I rip your fucking arm off.” She looked at him with unbridled anger and hatred and he never wanted to see that look directed at him again. He withered under her steely gaze. For the first time, he saw the woman who had given Remy that hideous scar. He saw the chained girl hidden away in a dank dungeon. He saw the Vitiosa forma, the Vicious Beauty and he hurt for her. She glared at him, pulling herself away, emotionally and physically. He could feel her leaving him, and he felt something inside of him breaking. This was wrong; something was telling him that this was wrong. He couldn’t leave, there was so much more that needed explanation. He needed to be here, with her.
“Celeste, wait, I’m sorry-I didn’t mean–”
His senses tingled as she moved away from him, her mind closed like a steel trap, blocking him, an angry heat emanating from her. She smelled of blood and lavender and sex; she smelled of him. He could smell something else, Remy, he supposed far off and faint. For a split second he was scared, but the emotion was fleeting, instead replaced with anger and regret.
“Doc, I didn’t mean it that way. This is just-you can’t expect-”
“Yes you did, Eli! You meant it exactly that way! I knew getting you invo
lved in my life was a stupid mistake. I told you to let me go. I told you to forget me, but you kept on. You just couldn’t let go. You had to push. And now, now that this gets a little too-well this time, I’m letting go for you. Just go, Eli. Bury your head in the fucking sand. We will deal with this on our own. Go keep pretending that you are normal, that you’re human. Keep pretending that your world makes sense because I have bigger things to deal with right now.”
“Celeste, this isn’t ending, not like this. I still care-”
“Well whoop-de-fucking-do! Care for a monster like me? You don’t care for me; you want to continue fucking me. You don’t call someone you care for a monster. You don’t accuse someone of sleeping with you as some sort of sick game. I have lost so much waiting for you. I have lived my life looking for something that I knew might never happen. But then I found you and you... I opened my whole world-” Her eyes blazed violet and her fangs drew out entirely. She trembled with rage and hurt, and tears stung her eyes as she spit out the words before turning away from him.
He moved closer, pulling her into his arms. Holding her back to his chest, his face buried in her hair, deeply inhaling the scent of fresh jasmine. He silently held her, as she struggled against his bear hug. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would make it better, so he kissed her hair, her neck, her tear stained cheeks as she continued to fight him.
“You can’t expect me to just accept this, Celeste. You can’t throw this at me and expect me to just say OK. You have to know that I still-” Love you. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue. He loved her, crazy floating ball of light, human, Faery, he didn’t care; he loved this lunatic of a woman. So why couldn’t he say it? It was as if the words were locked in his throat.
“Get off.” She finally broke from his steely grasp, moving across the room, not looking at him. Even though she was angry, she refused to hurt him, and he knew that she could. To hold that kind of power in check proved to him that she was more human than he was and that she still had some sort of feeling for him. She was a protector.
“Just get away from me. The Collective will be sending someone for you.” She said mounting the stairs that led to her bedroom.
“Doc, this is a lot to try to wrap my mind around. This is crazy-I mean-” He started to follow her up the stairs into her bedroom and stopped short at the sound of her voice.
“If I’m such a lunatic why don’t you ask your precious Grace how she knows Jinxie, Det. Cain? For that matter, ask her how she knew my name, my real name.” For the first time in his life, Elijah Cain’s heart felt as if it were split in half, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach.
“Doc.”
“Congé juste avant que vous me fassiez la haine vous.” He froze his hand at his sides in defeat. It was barely a whisper but he heard her clearly, the pain in her voice tore at him. She didn’t slam the bedroom door, only pushed it closed gently, not bothering to look at him anymore. Behind him the elevator chimed open, and he turned to find his shoes, sweater and jacket neatly folded on the table in the foyer. As the door slid closed, her words echoed in his head.
THIRTEEN
Eli climbed behind the wheel of his SUV, the keys dangling in the ignition, her words still stinging. The afternoon sky had turned as dark as his mood. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. He stared at the street ahead debating whether or not he should leave or should he go back up there and make her talk to him. Don’t push her, Remy’d said, she’ll push you back.
Finally, he turned the key as her final words came back to him, “Leave,” She’d said through clenched teeth, “Before you make me hate you.”
The car sparked to life immediately and he tore off down the street, burning rubber as he went. As angry as he was, he couldn’t help but know that what she said about him had to have some truth to it. He was different, that was a known fact. He had never been sick, not that he could remember anyway. He didn’t have memories of childhood scrapes or pets or getting the chicken pox or breaking a limb. He didn’t remember summers in the country or trick or treating on Halloween, learning to drive. He didn’t even remember his parents. He drove aimlessly for hours, with no idea of where to go. He couldn’t be whatever she said he was, part angel. That was not possible. He would definitely have noticed if he’d had fangs, wouldn’t he? As if to confirm, he looked at his teeth in the rearview mirror. His canines were a little sharper than normal, a little fang like-but no. He shook his head in disbelief.
He would have known, wouldn’t he? Maybe she’d infected him and he was starting to change, she’d turned him. But, she’d said she hadn’t, that she couldn’t. Was that the truth? She hadn’t lied to him, but she had kept a major secret. But a secret wasn’t a lie, now was it? And she was right; Jinxie had told him that she knew Grace, he did remember that. And Grace had called her Caelestis the night before, he’d clearly heard her. But Celeste had quickly changed the subject, covering for her. Why hadn’t he remembered that?
Because he hadn’t wanted to, that’s why. All he could see was Celeste; all he could think about was getting her into bed. He had become a man possessed when it came to her. He’d let lots of things about her slide because he had wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. He’d only seen what he’d wanted to see, even Riley had admitted that something about her was wrong.
***
Finally, he came to a stop before the familiar white wooden fence that hid Grace’s house from the world. He hit the buzzer frantically, leaning on it, until Boogie’s irritated voice came over the intercom.
“Hold your damn horses!” She screamed and almost immediately, the gate swung open. His car came to a screeching halt behind Grace’s never moving car. He slammed it into park and ran across the yard bursting through the back door like a wild man.
Boogie was standing in the kitchen in gray flannel sweats, her hair standing on end, tapping her bedroom slippered foot in irritation.
“Boy, what in the world-” He brushed past her, his face set in determination.
“Where is she, Boogie? Grace!” He trudged through the house. “Grace!” He boomed, his voice causing the fine china and chandeliers rattle. He knew that he was loud, but the volume of his own voice had startled him, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Grace! Where are you?” Boogie trailed behind him; running to keep up with his long strides through the down stairs.
“She’s on the patio. What is wrong with you?” He could hear the panic in Boogie’s voice, but he couldn’t stop to worry about her right now. He needed Grace. He paused at the French doors that led to the patio so abruptly, that Boogie ran into him. Eli was as solid as a tree trunk, and Boogie bounced off of him, landing on her butt with a thud. He turned and closed the doors soundly, giving Boogie a warning look before he stalked toward his grandmother.
***
Grace didn’t even look up as he rumbled toward her like a raging bull. She continued her gardening, in a pale pink track suit and matching crocs. Even at this late hour, she was wearing a gold chain and bangle earrings. The afternoon rain had left the cobble stone patio slick and he came to a sliding halt before her.
“You need to talk to me right fucking now!” he bellowed. Grace lifted a delicately arched eyebrow and noted his eyes, glowing bright turquoise in the moonlight, but she continued pulling weeds from one of her potted plants. She picked off a bud and held it to her nose, inhaling deeply.
“Night blooming Jasmine,” she said, after a moment, “known for its intense fragrance at night. Can you smell that? Doesn’t it smell wonderful?”
“Grace, I didn’t come here to talk about your motherfucking flowers. I have just seen some freaky shit, and I need answers right fucking now.” He was near hysterics, pacing and gesturing wildly, his shoes slipping on the cobblestone tiles. In frustration, he took the boots off and tossed them across the patio.
“Watch your language,” she bit, “that goddamn Pixie. I should have known she would open her mouth
. There is nothing they like more than causing trouble.” She exhaled, taking off her gardening gloves and tossed them on a table. “Sit.”
“I’d rather stand,” Eli murmured pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
“Elijah Cain, I said SIT!” Her voice seemed to reverberate throughout the entire block. The windows of the house shook and Boogie scampered away from her post, peering at them through the closed French doors. Unable to do anything else, he immediately dropped into a chair opposite her, staring with his mouth agape at his delicate grandmother. As if on cue, Boogie came out of the house with a bottle of bourbon and two glasses on a silver tray. She placed it on the table gingerly and left them alone, as quickly as her legs would carry her. She peered at them briefly before disappearing into the darkened house. Grace tossed her mane of silver hair.
“It’s called reboare vox,” she said, when he stared at her. “The rough translation is thunder voice. What do you know?” She poured him a drink, which he took willingly.
“I know that I just spent hours in bed with a woman, a beautiful, sexy woman, who makes me feel alive and normal, with the softest skin, and eyes the color of the ocean who turns into a ball of white light and sprouts fangs when she’s-”
“Let’s just call it excited.” Grace finished for him, as she tossed back her own shot. “You would too, if you hadn’t been bound. There has always been a little seepage, but I could see it beginning to completely unravel last night. She brings it out in you. I could tell just by the way you speak of her that she was special. She is very special, Elijah. She’s the One, your one and only.” She studied him. He remained silent, his body tense in anticipation. He braced himself for what was too come, he knew that what she was about to say would confirm everything Celeste had told him, everything that deep down, he knew to be true.
The First to Fall: A Fallen Novel (The Fallen Series) Page 26