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

by Tanisha D. Jones

  “I’m fine,” he assured.

  “You don’t look fine,” Riley said.

  “I’m fine, Riley. What’s all that shit?” He motioned to the books and Riley exhaled.

  “Well, I was doing some research on your–hobbit. When I came across this-” He opened one of the books to a marked page. Eli exhaled and stared, but remained silent. There was an artist’s rendering of Caelestis et Nemesis et Anhur. Dea regina Amazonum. She wore her waist long hair in intricate braids that cascaded over her bare shoulders. Instead of the long sheer white gown he’d seen her in, she wore dark pants and leather cuffs on her wrists, her chest and shins protected by silver armor. On her hip was a sword, and she brandished a silver bow, poised for attack. She was no more than a pre-teen in that painting, but the ferocity in her eyes made her seemed older and wiser. She looked every bit the warrior queen.

  “Do you see it? The resemblance is uncanny. There are all of these stories of this woman-”

  “The Celestial daughter of Nemesis and Anhur, Goddess Queen of the Amazons. I know.” Eli muttered as Riley opened book after book showing different renderings of her.

  “Look at this, Eli. It’s Celeste. Well, it can’t actually be Celeste but-”

  “It is her,” Eli said, as he ran a finger over an etching of her face. Those eyes and mouth, there was no mistaking that face. Riley laughed nervously and shook his head, but as he studied Eli’s rather somber expression his smile faded. When the waitress came to remove Eli’s empty beer bottles he ordered a whiskey, straight.

  “Just bring the bottle,” he groused, and Riley stared at him in confusion.

  “Remember when I told you that Doc was hiding something from me?” He pointed to the painting in the first book. “This is what she was hiding. Celeste Kent is not human.”

  Again Riley attempted to laugh only it died in his throat. “And guess what? Neither am I. But unlike our friendly neighborhood Goddess, here, I’m something else entirely. I, my good friend, am what is known as The Nephilim. Not just any spawn of a fallen angel mind you; I am the son of Heaven and Earth. You know the creation story from Sunday school, well; when God separated the heavens from the earth, guess who first fell to earth?” He pointed to himself with a somber smile. “I drink blood and have no human blood coursing through my very special and very ancient veins. I’m what is known as a breeder. And you know how I know this?” Riley shook his head dumbly.

  “Because,” Eli choked out a laugh. “I have a kid...a grown kid...a daughter, a real beauty with a gentle soul and a kind heart, just a lovely girl. She lucked up, though because she’s part human and it’s Grace. How do you like that? My own daughter has spent centuries protecting me, sacrificing her own life to make sure her hot head of a father didn’t get himself killed. She magically altered her appearance and gave up everything for me, and you know how she did that? She erased my memory every few years.” He looked at Riley, a maniacal smile plastered on his face. Riley shook his head and burst into nervous laughter which quickly dissolved into hysterics.

  “What?” Riley finally calmed himself enough to look at Eli through the tears in his eyes, Eli was not amused. He sat stone faced, his eyes on the amber liquid floating his glass. “Are you serious? Really, E? Really? How many drinks have you had?”

  Rather than explain, Eli opened his mouth and showed him. At the sight of his silvery white fangs, Riley backpedaled to the opposite side of the booth, his eyes wide. He let out a yelp of surprise that caused several of the patrons to glance in their direction. If he could have, he would have burrowed into the cracked red leather upholstery. Eli retracted the teeth and sipped his drink, as if nothing had ever happened.

  “What the total fuck?” Riley squeaked.

  “Don’t worry my thirst for blood hasn’t completely come back to me. Not that I’d drink from you anyway. My tastes are specific to a blue eyed brunette with a cute laugh and tight ass.”

  “Mine too,” Riley joked, laughing like a hyena.

  “Okay, okay, okay. Do that again?” He asked, just to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Eli obliged, knowing this would take some time, but after a second glance, and tentative touch, Riley seemed to calm down.

  ”Fuck.” He whispered, “Did the Doc do this to you? Did she turn you all Vampy?” He asked, staring at Eli with a mixture of fear and awe. His best friend was a freaking vampire. He didn’t know if he should be thrilled or terrified.

  “Not a freaking vampire, freaking Nephilim, there’s a distinct difference. I am a living breathing being. Vampires are not.” Eli corrected. “And no, she didn’t. I was born this way apparently; exactly when I was born is still a question. It was either at the dawn of time or sometime shortly thereafter, or as Grace put it, eons ago. Can you believe that? I was born before Jesus, before people, before-time.”

  Riley sat slack jawed, he was absolutely dumbfounded. He’d always known that there was something different almost otherworldly about Eli, but he’d always thought it was just his good looks. There was an aura of power around him that had always drawn people in, but he’d never thought he wasn’t human. The eyes, those had been the only truly magical thing about him, the way they changed color with his moods. He stared at Eli’s profile for a long time contemplating the reality of the situation. Eli wasn’t human. He wasn’t a man, not really.

  Yet, he’d been the best friend he’d ever had. He’d also trusted him enough to tell him the truth, so that meant something. He could run from this place screaming and shun Eli the way most of the police force did. The way most people did, now that he thought about it. Eli only had Grace, Boogie and him, his only family. He trusted him to be there, to be his friend, his brother. Even though he was this ancient mystical being, Eli could easily be broken. Wasn’t that the reason Grace had hidden him, to keep him safe. Did this change the way he felt about his best friend, Riley wondered. Did this make Elijah Cain less of the man he had known for years just because he happened to be – an Angel? Eli was an angel. This took him out of his image of what an angel was. He’d been taught that angels were soft, wraithlike creatures with delicate features in white gowns with soft melodic voices. Not hulking black men with blue eyes and deep baritone voices that rumbled like thunder when they laughed.

  “Not really an angel-” Eli mumbled, “More of a ...god.”

  “Right,” Riley sighed. Absently, he reached up to touch Eli’s face. Not knowing what to expect, he sighed with relief when he felt the stubble covered cheek of his friend. Eli glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

  “What are you doing?” He asked, sounding somewhat amused. Finally shaking himself out of his daze, he gave Eli’s shoulder a pat and loudly gulped down his drink.

  “Well, you look good for your age.” Riley mumbled, vaguely, staring at Eli the entire time. He reclaimed his seat, took another healthy swallow of his whiskey and sighed.

  “Sammi,” Riley called to their waitress who leaned against the pool table flirting with one of the college boys. “I think we’re going to need another bottle of Jack.”

  She nodded and sauntered behind the bar. Riley exhaled and turned to Eli, an understandably excited smile giving his face a boyish appeal. “This is so cool. I knew you were a fucking superhero. So let’s start at the beginning.” He gave Eli a slap on the back. “Tell me EVERYTHING.”

  ***

  Relief washed over Eli, and all of the tension in his body melted away as he relayed the story that Grace had both gifted and burdened him with only a short time before. It was as if he had the weight lifted from his chest as he explained everything Grace and Celeste had told him. He relayed Grace’s story of his late wife, of his violent nature. He vaguely recalled the events of the night at Jinxie’s, his eventual meeting of Remy and Gaston, and of course, sex with Celeste. “It’s like she’s a part of me.”

  He was grateful to Riley, who sat and listened, nodding and asking questions at the appropriate times, allowing him to share his burden, at least fo
r a while.

  “This explains so much,” Riley mumbled at one point.

  “What kinds of things can you do, other than the mind reading?” Riley asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

  “I’m strong, super strong; I have this crazy speed, acute senses, of course the telepathy, precognition, post-cognition. Grace called me an Oneiroi or Dream Walker, the way I can recall other people’s memories and emotions. My hearing is crazy sharp. I can hear a whisper from twenty feet away. There are some other things that Grace says will come. Apparently those are things from my angelic side. For some reason, preternatural beings are attracted to each other. That’s why I’m so drawn to Doc. We share a link just being who we are. We’re living breathing myths.” He snorted and took another drink.

  It was nearly midnight when all was said and done. Eli was nursing his final glass of whiskey and Riley had gone through several beers of his own. As the story wound down, Eli’s phone jumped and buzzed to life. He looked at the display and pocketed the phone, ignoring it.

  “Who was that?” Riley rose, stretching his legs.

  “Celeste. Again. I just can’t talk to her right now. I don’t know what to say. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this, and I hurt her- Riley I called her a monster.”

  “Tell me this, do you care about this girl?” Eli nodded. “Why?”

  “You’ve met her, she’s incredible. She’s smart, funny, beautiful, and sexy-”

  “And that has changed because of what? She can turn into a ball of light? She gets a little bite-y during sex? Who doesn’t? I once dated a guy who likes you to punch him in the face during sex. And Adam once slept with a guy who liked to have straight pins stuck into his balls. Even regular people are into some kinky shit. But has that changed who she is? Have you changed?” Riley could be too smart for his own good sometimes, making Eli felt like an even bigger asshole.

  “She lied to me-”

  “She didn’t lie. It seems to me she tried to tell you a bunch of times. From the moment you two laid eyes on each other, you’ve been drawn together. Hell, even before you met face to face, you had been dreaming about her. That has to count for something Eli. How would you have felt if I’d have bolted when you sprouted fangs? And we’ve known each other for years. I know you better than I know anyone else. Imagine how she feels. She loves you. Do you know how lucky you are to have found your perfect match?”

  “Maybe,” Eli grumbled, even though he knew that she cared deeply for him. He stared at his still half empty bottle in front of him, not daring to look at Riley. Even though Riley wasn’t a telepath or psychic, he was smart and he could read Eli, almost as well as Grace.

  “Don’t give me that maybe bullshit. She trusted you enough to show you what she is, even though it weakened her to the point of collapse. You are the first man she’s has given herself to in every possible way, all of her, completely. And she’s called you how many times?”

  “That makes sixteen.”

  “Sixteen? You call the woman a monster, break her heart and she’s called you sixteen times! She wants you, you jack ass. She loves your stupid ass! And you’re sitting here pouting because you just found out you’re a fucking Superman? You two share more than most married couples, blood bound as you put it. How often do you find that? My advice to you is to man-up, quit being a whiny dick, and go find the woman before she gets tired of chasing you. I guaran-fucking-tee there are men lining up to take your place, fangs or not.”

  “Grace basically said the same thing.” He mumbled under his breath.

  “Imagine that. So why are you still sitting here looking at my drunk ass? Go and find her, before it’s too late, Eli. Women like her only come around once in a lifetime, for you that can be a pretty long fucking time.”

  He’d had to carry Riley from his car to his front door where Adam greeted him with a perplexed look on his face. Even though they had shared two bottles of whiskey, of which Eli had had the lion’s share, Riley was completely white boy wasted. He slurred a hello to Adam who stepped aside to allow Eli entry into the apartment where he tossed Riley onto the bed. As he turned to leave, Riley grabbed his arm.

  “You may have been born a god, but you have spent the most of your life as just a man. And the greatest gift a man could ever receive is the open heart of another. Remember that.” He’d slurred before his eyes drifted shut. “Please don’t fuck it up, E.”

  “You know for someone completely wasted, you make a lot of senses.” Eli laughed.

  “Drunk don’t mean stupid.” Riley burped.

  ***

  This, among the many other revelations of the night, swirled through his head as the rain began to come down harder. He finally slipped out of the car and headed to the backdoor. He hadn’t turned on the security lights before he’d gone out, leaving the driveway cloaked in darkness.

  He paused. The key was barely in the door, when he felt someone else was there. Through the smell of the late November rain, he could smell something else not quite human. He backed away from the steps, and moved toward the front porch, his fingertips itching. He paused only for a second when he felt his fangs. But he continued his guarded stalking toward the front yard. The smell assaulted him as he rounded the corner, but beneath the putrid stench was the light scent of lavender.

  “Elijah,”

  FOURTEEN

  The voice that came from the shadows of the porch sounded far away, until she slowly emerged from the darkness. The rain beat down on her, as she inched closer, dripping wet, her hair slicked to her scalp, her eyes wide. She was in jeans and a sweater, both of which were ripped and covered in blood, her expensive boots scuffed. Blood ran down her side in rivulets, pooling at her feet; on the rain slicked porch she stood cradling her right arm close to her body, her face battered and bruised. Even though her face was dripping wet, he knew that she had been crying, her eyes were red and swollen, she looked a mess; and he wanted to hold her.

  “It was in my apartment. I called you- I killed it.” She moved closer, swiftly in the dark, her feet barely touching the ground, but she stopped just out of his reach. He took a step forward, and she took two cautious steps back. He paused only for a moment, and then, before she saw him move, he had her face in his hands, his mouth on hers. The kiss was cautious and tender and the most wonderful feeling in the world.

  “Come inside.” He breathed against her cheek; before ushering her through the front door, then into the living room. He raced up the stairs, leaving her dripping on the rug in the dark cold room, her arm clutched to her chest. It wasn’t healing the way it should, she realized, and it hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Take off your clothes.” He came down the stairs, dropping a robe and a towel on the sofa, before hustling into the kitchen to put on the tea kettle. He disappeared upstairs again, returning with a first aid kit, some aspirin and blankets. When he rushed back into the room, he began starting a fire. Even though there was central heat and air, he preferred using the fireplace on nights like this, and it would warm the chill that set into her bones. She began unzipping the black leather boots she wore, still shivering in her sopping wet clothes, blood running down her arm and onto the floor.

  She pulled the ripped sweater off, taking care of her injured arm, exposing a white lacey bra, soaked and clinging to her, her right arm bleeding from dozens of tiny needle like marks. Eli turned to look at her, as the flames in the fireplace grew. He watched as she began peeling her skin tight jeans down, with some difficulty. Frustrated, she cursed and the pants slipped down on their own, pooling at her feet. Kicking them aside, she could feel his eyes on her, he couldn’t turn away.

  In the blush of the fire light, her caramel skin glowed golden, the thin lace of her panties and bra slick to her skin, her nipples straining the thin material. She looked magnificent, like something out of a dream, which she was, after all. He motioned for her to sit beside him on the rug in front of the fire. Gingerly holding her arm to get a better look at it .The dozen
s of tiny holds looked painful, and her arm was swelling and bruising in the dim light. He flinched at the sight of it.

  Carefully, he reached for the first aid kit and began cleaning the wound. “What happened?” He asked. Quietly and through clenched teeth, she told him of her battle with the demon .Guilt and anger played across his face in tandem, ripping through him as she spoke.

  “I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. Why won’t you look at me?” She inhaled sharply as he began patting her arm dry, pain racketing through her body in waves. He couldn’t face her; instead he focused on wrapping bandage around her forearm, securing it. When he was done, he turned away, not able to meet her gaze. Instead, he focused on the crackling fire.

  “Eli, look at me.” She touched his cheek turning him to face her. He kept his eyes averted, staring at her lips, her earlobe, anywhere except her eyes. He was ashamed of himself.

  “I can’t. You need to take everything off. I’ll put them in the dryer.” He said referring to her underwear, his voice thick and low.

  She stood slowly, willing him to look at her as she slowly released the clasp of her bra, and let the material slip off of her arms and to the floor. He turned to watch her out of sheer need, unable to explain it, he was compelled to look at her. When she touched the elastic of her panties, she could hear him inhale sharply in anticipation. She took her time, pushing one side off of her hips, then the other, her injured arm held closely to her chest. As she moved to get the robe, her entire body covered in gooseflesh. He’d never seen anything so sexy in his life.

  “Wait,” He said through clenched teeth as he rose. He moved closer to her, his eyes downcast, his body rigid.

  He reached up and took the band from her hair, letting it fall in drying curls past her shoulders, singed chunks falling to the floor. She looked at him with heavy lidded eyes, her moist lips slightly parted. He grazed her lips with his, a touch so light it could have been a thought, no other parts of them touching. She closed her eyes and leaned forward aching for him to touch her. She felt him move behind her where he took the towel and began drying her hair, from the top of her head, gently moving down.