Fallen (17 page)

“I'm sorry,” Michael said as Vinny dutifully tucked
the halos in the bag. “I have more, but not with me. The vampires have quite a few. Vinny was able to find out.”

“How did you get inside their lair?” Cooper asked the vampire. “Did you just stroll in?”

“I've a contact on the inside,” Vinny said.

“I don't like the sound of that. Whoever it is, he could be playing you.”

“We've taken precautions,” Michael said dismissively. “Now, what is the plan? I know the two of you have your own issues to deal with, and that concerns me.”

“I wasn't aware we were working together yet,” Cooper challenged Michael. “My quest for a halo has nothing to do with you wanting to stake a bunch of vampires.”

“And yet the vampires are the key to everything.” Michael eyed Pyx. “I'm surprised they haven't gone after the Sinistari. She's the biggest obstacle to their gaining a nephilim.”

“They've tried,” Cooper said. “And failed.”

“They obviously know what they're up against.” Pyx made sure Vinny caught her glare before walking over to the table and pressing a palm over the messenger bag. She didn't sense anything, but then, why should she?

And then…she did.

Pyx withdrew her hand from the bag. It hadn't burned, but she had felt something visceral. Deeper than the light shimmer she'd felt from the vampire, almost
internal
.

Seeing her reaction, Michael scrambled to open the leather bag and shuffle out the halos. They clattered onto the marble surface. “Did you feel something? I saw something.”

“It was nothing,” Pyx said. How could it be anything?

Both Vinny and Michael gasped when one of the halos glowed blue.

“But that can't be,” Michael said. “She's…an angel?”

“What's he talking about?” Pyx looked to Cooper.

The Fallen shook his head and stalked toward the door.

 

He couldn't face her. He could not.

Cooper marched out of the hotel, aware Pyx followed. She didn't call to him, or try to catch up. She could not be aware of his struggle to fend off anger. And he didn't want her to see him in this mood. It had nothing to do with her—and everything.

The halo hunter should have kept his mouth shut.

Damn it, would it be smeared in his face now? The fact he may never find his soul, and she—a bloody
demon
—may be so close.

He kicked a stone and it zinged the hubcap of a Mercedes. With little thought, he'd probably caused a thousand dollars of damage. Cooper marched onward toward the river. The bustling city did not appeal to him. The rush of traffic gave him little concern as he walked across the street, causing cars to slam on the brakes and honk their horns.

Pyx yelled after him. He ignored her.

Have to get out of this city. Out of this country. Far away from the muse
.

Far from the unknown. Would he ever have what he wanted? Did he deserve it?

The river was ahead. He could jump into that horrid muck of centuries past and drown. It would be that easy. Angels could not swim; hell, they could drown in a friggin' bathtub.

Cooper recalled the great flood. It had swept him from his feet and swirled him away from the earth, imprisoning him in darkness for so long. Interminable torture, the lack of all sensation and thought, had been his prison as he'd waited for final judgment.

He would not go back. He'd die before he did so.

The way to achieve that goal was to do the muse, or find his halo.

Only one sat well with his desperate heart.

But the other formed his very nature.

“No excuse,” he growled to himself. “You're thinking like you did when you were in the ranks, smiting without second thought. You're not that angel now. I can make a choice.”

Gaining the Pont Neuf, he slammed a fist upon the stone railing and huffed out tight, angry breaths as he stared down into the broth-colored water. Boats and barges lined both sides of the river. A tourist barge passed under the bridge and he sneered at a little boy who cheerfully waved up at him.

Then he was overwhelmed by the scent of her. Bubble gum and sex. The world muted and the sigh of her climax revisited his thoughts. Tender. Rushed. Devastating. If they had only the one night together, he intended to cherish that memory as if it were a stolen jewel.

Pyx approached him carefully, stopping five feet from him and propping her elbows on the railing parallel to him. “What's wrong?”

“You don't really care,” he said. “It's an affectation you think I require to keep me on your side. We've already agreed we're only in this for ourselves so stop the act. I don't need it.”

“All right then. No pussyfooting around. Although, what does that really mean? Pussyfooting?”

He shot her an arched brow, but controlled his desire to smile. Man, she could ease his anger like that.

“I want to know what got stuck in your craw,” Pyx said. “It had something to do with the halos. Didn't you see? One of them glowed. It could have been yours.”

“It was yours, damn it!”

Pyx stared unseeing at him. Her head shook slightly, not processing.

Cooper pounded the railing so hard, the stone cracked. “You know nothing, do you? You, the powerful Sinistari demon who came to smite me from the earth. You! You are like me. You
are
me. We are the same, Pyx. You are a Godforsaken angel.”

S
tellan dropped the halo on the desk before Antonio. It wobbled and landed with a tinny clap. Antonio knew by now the things were indestructible, but he was still startled at the lack of care Stellan took when handling them. The thin disk of unknown-origin metal briefly glowed blue.

Antonio looked to Stellan, who smirked. “Told ya. I'm sure it's the Fallen's halo. I found it within half a mile of where he lives. Underground.”

“I've never seen them glow before.” Antonio touched the cold disk. “Are you positive that is why it's glowing? Because it senses the original owner?”

“It's only a guess, but I'd stake my life on it.”

Antonio grimaced. Stake and life should never be used in the same sentence.

He trusted Stellan though. The man had been his right hand for over a century. Together they'd begun the quest to produce and capture a viable nephilim. The blood of their
ancestors was all they needed to become stronger. More powerful. To walk in the light.

But if it had just flashed blue that could only mean the Fallen was nearby. “Have guards been posted at the perimeter entrances?”

“Yes, the Hôtel Solange is secure. We'll nab the angel the moment he sets foot on the grounds.”

“Bruce found the muse,” Antonio said. “She's resting in the dungeon.”

“No shit? Now we've a full house. The halo. The muse. We'll have the Fallen before the sun rises.”

“We can hope.” Antonio crossed his arms smugly. “But I've another on my list I want contained. Venezia is back in town. Bring her to me.”

 

Michael swept Vinny from her feet and into his arms. They sat on the hotel bed, both quiet since the Fallen and the Sinistari had left.

He nuzzled his face against her shimmery hair. Always she smelled like ginger. She had a spunky bite like ginger, too, and that wasn't even about her real fangs.

He smiled to think how they'd been together only a few months but already he couldn't imagine living without her. Ever. Not because she sucked his blood every few weeks, which gave him an insane orgasm and made them feel closer than close. He genuinely loved this woman.

She had only bitten him three times, saying she didn't need to take more blood, and showing her worried face. That face said “I'm not sure how much before you die.” Neither wanted Michael to become vampire.

It was a weird relationship, for sure.

But an angel and demon together? Even weirder.

Despite all that, Michael prodded at the thoughts troubling his brain. He'd been focused on stopping some
thing he felt could be great evil—tribe Anakim gaining power and walking in the light. Yet what remained in the corner of his eye, and meant so much more, he'd ignored.

Seeing the angel's protective regard for the demon earlier had made Michael tilt his head and view what stood in the corner of his eye—Vinny.

Why hadn't he come to this conclusion before?

“I've been selfish,” he whispered aside her cheek.

“You're the most generous man I know.” Positioned before him and sitting between his legs, Vinny nestled closer, sliding down so her back rubbed across his crotch. Tilting her head back, she touched his chin with her fingers. “What's going on in that brain of yours, lover?”

“I've been so focused on going after Antonio and his tribe. Determined to bring them to an end so they can't enact their evil reign upon the world by arranging for nephilim births. But all this time I never gave a thought to you. Vinny, I'm so sorry.”

“If we keep Antonio from getting what he wants…”

Michael winced because what she couldn't say, he should have taken to heart months ago.

“Then you don't get what you want either. They're your tribe. If they don't get the blood that'll allow them to become daywalkers, you will never be able to walk in sunlight.”

She sighed and clasped her arms about his leg. “It's not so bad.”

“It's not so good either. I want you to have the sun, Venezia.”

He knew she didn't like it when he used her real name, but Vinny had never really appealed to him. Venezia was a bold and brilliant goddess, and a sneaky seductress who had lured him into her world. He didn't regret a moment of that capture.

Silence was her answer. He'd never asked her before if she thought it right they go after tribe Anakim. He'd set off on his righteous quest with his vampire lover in tow. Asshole.

“If Anakim drinks from a nephilim the entire tribe could gain the boon, yes?”

“I think so. I'm not exactly sure how it works.”

“Then they need to do it once. Only once,” Michael said. “And then we'll kill 'em all.”

She wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him. Another silent answer that he knew agreed with the new plan.

 

Pyx shoved Cooper's chest so hard he bent backward over the railing and his feet left the ground. The wily angel sneered and jumped to his feet, mocking her with that sexy grin.

“You lie,” she said through a tight jaw.

Anger forced another punch into his gut. He bent double, but she suspected it was an act for her benefit. The angel was matched in strength to her, and he had the advantage of a male anatomy, which gave him larger biceps and stronger thigh muscles. More powerful, all around.

“I don't know why you are lying, but you are.”

“It's not something you have knowledge of, Pyx,” he said. “I think when the Sinistari walk the world upon summons, the information is somehow blocked to them. Sort of like if an angel gets his soul he then forgets he was ever an angel. But it's true. You were once as I. An angel from Above.”

She shook her head furiously and twisted to pace away a few steps. The unbearably insistent noise of traffic beat in her ears. The whole world caved toward her and she
felt…small. She didn't like the feeling, the not knowing. The lacking power.

Could she have possibly walked the world and not learned it all?

“Don't you remember?” he asked. “You are, or I believe you are, Kadesch.”

“Kadesch?” The name meant nothing, and yet, speaking it did not feel wrong. The tones of the name sounded familiar.

“It was your angelic name. We were, I believe, good companions while Above. You chose to fall with the rest of us,” Cooper said. “In fact, you were the one who encouraged me to fall.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Fact, Pyx. Two hundred angels fell, yet during that descent their ranks were decimated. You were taken before your feet touched the earth and then forged into Sinistari. Which makes you divine, and gives you the power to slay angels.”

“Divine?” She scoffed. “You are on something, Fallen one.”

“Yes, I'm on the truth. And it's about time you opened your eyes to it. I didn't recognize you as Kadesch. Not until you said the thing about having choice.”

Spinning about and charging him, Pyx beat the lying bastard on the shoulder with a hard fist. Once, twice, and again. If they were both shifted her metal structure would clang against his glass form. But each punch boasted less anger, and more confusion.

Why would he make up such fantastic lies? To what purpose would it serve him? Is this how low the Fallen would stoop to get a Sinistari on his side? To win his freedom and live? It wasn't working. It was only making her angry that she'd trusted him in the first place.

Besides, she had never been on his side. The sex had been…fabulous. And so the emotions she had begun to feel for him were warm and squishy and possessive. But that was beside the point!

Cooper gripped her wrists and wrangled her close, forcing her to look into his eyes. “It's the truth, Pyx. You are Kadesch. I know it. Ask your archangel master, if you don't believe me.”

Pyx had never questioned the hierarchy. But if the Sinistari had been forged from the Fallen, then it made weird sense because their leader, Raphael, was one of the angelic dominions.

But divine? No way.

“How do you know this?” she challenged. “If you say that you didn't recognize me…”

Though she was already beginning to accept, the infusion of such a bizarre truth rippled through her being, making her skittish and stepping from foot to foot.

“I just do,” he offered. “It was apparent to me the moment my feet touched the earth so many millennia ago. You are one of twenty original Sinistari created from those two hundred Fallen.”

“Mythology. As is the entire mortal Bible!”

“Only an angel can kill an angel, Pyx. You know that.”

“I…” Did know that.

Wasn't sure.

It
seemed
true. But she'd never thought about it before. It was instinctive knowledge like all the rest of her knowledge.

“But that's why I've Joe,” she said, her words losing some fire. “My blade is forged from an angel's rib and dipped in the poison qeres.”

“A poison made only for angels,” Cooper confirmed. “I know of that nasty stuff.”

“Yes, and that is how I'm able to slay an angel!”

“That blade was forged from one of
your
ribs, Pyx. Taken from you as you Fell. Which makes Joe divine, as well.” Cooper kicked the base of the bridge railing. “You don't want to believe me. But you know it's truth.”

“This isn't possible.”

She caught her palms against the cool stone bridge railing. The brown waters swirling below matched the wicked swirl in her gut.

After sharing her body with Cooper last night, she had to be open to anything being possible.

“Don't you remember me?” he asked, slapping a palm to his chest. “Juphiel? Think, Pyx. Just dig deep.”

She put up a palm to block his words, and shook her head furiously. “Lies.”

“Not lies. Truth. It is why the halo glowed in your presence.”

Cooper left the bridge, shoving roughly through a crowd of tourists posing before the Henri IV statue. Pyx raced after him.

“I don't intend to screw any muses today,” he called back. “Why don't you bug off for a while and leave me alone, eh?”

Pyx let him go. He was in a fine temper.

Yet why should he be? It was
she
who had discovered she was once an— “Angel?”

She hugged her arms across her chest. “I have to process this. This is too incredible. And
my
halo?”

She glanced in the direction of the hotel, though could not see it from this distance for the buildings edging the Tuileries blocked view. She should march back and take the halo from Donovan and just see…

See what? If it granted her an instant soul? She'd always thought the only way a Sinistari could get a soul was by killing a Fallen. Could it be as easy as taking possession of her halo?

“An angel? I don't deserve a soul for all the sin I've committed since walking the earth.”

Not a lot, if she was truthful with herself. She'd tried to do the big bad demon thing, but it hadn't come naturally. Weird. She was so wrong, in every way.

“What if I am wrong? What if…”

She was wrong because she had been an angel?

She couldn't speak it, but to think it gave her a shiver. What if she should have Fallen to earth and another angel should have been chosen as Sinistari? Would she be looking for her muse right now? Would the muse be a he? Would she be a he?

“Kadesch.” Why couldn't she remember that?

Because there is nothing to remember
.

Pyx stomped across the street toward her building, but when she reached the top step, she kicked the stone wall and turned to march down to the cobbled street.

“No way. Not me. I'm demon, through and through. I don't possess divinity. Never have and never will. Cooper doesn't know what he's talking about. He's trying to make me sympathize with him.”

They'd been honest with one another: each was using the other to gain what they most desired. If Cooper wanted a soul he'd do anything to stay alive and convince her to not kill him.

Like have sex with her? Seduce her? Claim they were once friends?

You are an angel, Pyx. That is why the halo glowed
.

“My soul? Could I…?”

Walking onward, Pyx toyed with the notion of calling
out Raphael, her superior. She'd never met the archangel, and wasn't sure she was worthy anyway. No, she daren't make good on the desire.

Dismissing the longing, she eyed the café where Cooper's muse worked. Would she have had a muse?

You are not and were not an angel
.

Striding onward she entered the café and ordered a latté double mocha with sprinkles. Whatever that was. Sounded fun, and she needed a little levity right now.

“Is Sophia in today?” Pyx asked the waitress, who turned and gave her a teary-eyed shake of head. “What's wrong?”

“She was attacked last night. Called in this morning to say she was staying with her mother for a few days. She sounded so frazzled, I thought she could have been in trouble right then. Poor girl.”

“Oh. Uh. I'm sorry. She sounded frazzled?”

“Yes, she was breathing fast and speaking quickly. I hope she's not in trouble.”

“Yeah.” Pyx took the latté and pressed a finger to the waitress's hand. “Paid. I hope your friend is okay, too.”

And she did feel empathy for the muse. Poor woman had been through an awful experience, witnessing an angel and a Sinistari go at it in her living room.

Maybe she should swing by her building and check things out. No sense in letting a perfectly good muse slip through her fingers, right?