Fallen Angel: Mythic Series, Book 2 (4 page)

“Whatever. The fuck you stands.” Ryssa walked around him and out the door, leaving David gaping in the foyer.

He stalked across the polished marble and threw open the door to tell her not to bother coming back, but she was already gone.

I
t was nice to see her smile, David thought, entering his mother’s room the next day. She seemed so much more peaceful today, carefully trimming the stems of the fresh blooms he’d brought in from the garden. A pile of cuttings sat on the bed beside her, an artfully arranged bouquet in the lead crystal vase on the rolling tray table. Carla, the morning nurse, told him that she’d even been singing.

“You are in a good mood,” David said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“It is a lovely day,” she replied.

“It is at that,” he agreed, smiling back at her as the familiar ache flared in his chest. The “good” days were coming fewer and farther between; he wanted to savor each and every one while he could. She was the only family he had left.

“What would you like to do today?  I have some meetings this morning, but my afternoon is all yours.”

She beamed at him. “I think I’d like to go shopping.”

“Shopping?” He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “What could you possibly want?”

She chuckled. “Oh, not for me, dear. For Ryssa. I want to get her something nice.”

Immediately David’s expression darkened, his features turned stony. “Did she ask you for something?”

“No, of course not.” Elizabeth frowned at his sudden change. “She is such a delightful young woman, but she refused to accept anything. I offered her money, a car, a scholarship. She declined it all.”

David shot his mother a disbelieving glance. “Mother!  How could you?  You don’t even know this girl!”

“I know she has given me peace,” Elizabeth told him.

He grunted. The woman was obviously even cleverer than he’d anticipated if she’d managed to fleece his mother. Elizabeth had always been a world-class bullshit detector, but in the face of the aggressive cancer and the debilitating drugs, her senses were skewed. Which is exactly why he had to forget about moonlight and the big gray eyes and sassy cupid bow mouth that had haunted his dreams and keep his mother from being taken advantage of.

He forced his features into what he hoped was a mask of reason while he continued to seethe inside. “How did she manage to do that?”

Elizabeth’s features softened, her eyes shone. “She showed me what is waiting for me, David. It’s beautiful!  And your father is there. He looks just like he did when we first met, all young and handsome in his Army uniform.” She chuckled. “Ryssa said I’ll be young and beautiful again, too.”

“You are beautiful now.”

Elizabeth’s eyes filled with love for her only child. “Such a wonderful son you are. Have I told you that?”

“Every day of my life,” he said honestly.

“Good,” she said, nodding. “Then you will help me with this today. I want to get her something nice, but I’m not sure what exactly. I’ll know it when I see it. She didn’t say when she was coming back. I’d like to get something today, so it will be here the next time she visits.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded as she took in her son’s pained expression. He avoided looking directly at her, choosing instead to focus on the climbing roses now in full bloom just outside the antique white French doors.

“David, what’s wrong?  Why do you have that sour look on your face?”

“Save your money, Mother,” he exhaled, “The woman is not coming back.”

“Her name is Ryssa, David. And of course she is. She said she would.”

“Then she lied.”

It was an effort to unclench his jaw enough to get the words out. And why did
he
feel like the bad guy here? Wasn’t it enough that he couldn’t get the image of those sad, faceted crystal gray eyes out of his head? Or that for those few moments of sleep he had actually managed, he’d dreamed of her feisty, sassy mouth doing more than verbally slicing him to ribbons?

Ryssa
was bad news, and he refused to feel bad for calling her out and letting her know he was onto her little game.

Elizabeth’s brows knitted together as she turned her mother’s glare on him full-force. There was no evidence of the terminal disease ravaging her body when she spoke again.

“David Michael Corrigan, what did you do?”

* * *

“H
ey Ryss, who’s the stiff?” the male at the bar asked as she reached past him to get the round of bubbling Satan’s Brew and Hellfire shooters for the raucous coven celebrating something or other. Despite the situation, the corner of her lips twitched. It was a funny statement coming from a vampire, especially since David Corrigan was one of the few warm-blooded, living humans in the raunchy club.

Her amusement soon faded, however, when the reality of the situation sunk in. David Corrigan was in a demon club. And unlike the other warm-blooded, living humans around, he was unescorted and absolutely clueless. Mortals didn’t come into
Seven Circles
unless they were willing to sell their bodies and/or their souls for a chance at immortality. Those who made it through the door rarely left fully intact.

Pompous ass he might be, but Ryssa had no desire to have his blood (or other bodily fluids) on her conscience, and it wasn’t because she favored him in any way, because she didn’t. So what if she had dreamed of him the last few nights? It meant nothing. The only reason she thought about him at all was because she felt slightly guilty about not going back to see his mother.

No, David Corrigan was no different than any other pompous, condescending mortal male. She didn’t care about him, per se. But Elizabeth needed him. And Ryssa’s karma was already bad enough without allowing him to walk naively into the demon’s den.

“Him?  He’s nobody,” she said, forcibly controlling her heart and lungs with little effort, the control so ingrained now she barely thought of it anymore. Vamps and other immortals were drawn to emotional disturbances, and potent feelings like fear, excitement, or sexual desire was as alluring to them as the scent of iced chocolate fudge brownies was to her.

“He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, babe. Not that I blame him,” Tane chipped in with a predator’s grin that showed off some impressive teeth. “You look mighty tasty tonight.”

The shifter leaned his six-eight frame over the bar, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them again, he licked his lips and his golden eyes were glowing. He could have been the original muse for the Big Bad Wolf.

“
Mouthwatering
, in fact. But you know how Karthik is about having mortals around.”

Yeah, she knew. Karthik made Tane look cuddly, like a stuffed puppy dog. As far as Karthik was concerned, mortals were expendable; a renewable resource.

“No worries. I’ll get rid of him.”

She made her way across the floor, aware of the attention David Corrigan was unwittingly drawing to himself. Even from halfway across the room she could hear the strong pulse of his human heart over the screaming death metal; recognize his clean, freshly washed male scent over the stench of writhing bodies and sex.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

He gave her a look that could have peeled the paint from the walls and spoke through clenched teeth. She wondered why the hell she cared.

“My mother wants to see you again.”

Clearly he wasn’t too keen on being here, either. Smart man, but not smart enough to have heeded the repelling ward placed around the club to keep ignorant humans from wandering in unaware. Which begged the question, how did he even know where to find her?  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but curiosity had to take a back seat to her instinctive (and annoying) need to protect him.

Ryssa pinned him with a glare. His concern for his mother was admirable, but not worth risking his life. “She doesn’t need me. There are plenty who are waiting to help her through when her time comes. And you need to seriously get the fuck out of here. Like
now
.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Ryssa almost laughed. Her mother had severed all ties more than a thousand years earlier because of the shame she’d brought to the family. Unlike Elizabeth Corrigan, who probably would stand by her dickhead son no matter what he did.

“Do
you
?” she shot back.

He stood up, his green eyes once again thunderous. Her gaze remained locked on his, her head tilting upwards as he rose. From her diminutive height, she had an unobstructed view of his strong jaw clenching.

When he spoke, his voice was cold, hard steel. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but for whatever reason, my mother likes you, so you
will
come to see her again.”

Ryssa withheld a groan with effort. Such a strong, stubborn man he was, but those qualities would not serve him well here. Was he so self-absorbed that he could ignore every innate self-preservation instinct that had to be screaming at that moment? 

“
Listen
, you pompous, arrogant idiot. I’m not kidding. Get the fuck out. Now.”

“Not until you agree to come.” He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest and scowled down at her.

A flash of heat was the only advanced warning she got. Ryssa closed her eyes as a sense of dread washed over her. She was too late. She should have known Karthik would be drawn to a presence as strong as David’s like a fly to honey. The more powerful the soul, the more valuable it was, and David Corrigan’s soul was the demon equivalent of a shopping spree at Tiffany’s.

“Is there a problem here?” Karthik asked in his deep, smooth baritone. His nostrils flared and his red eyes glittered as he assessed David. In human form, Karthik was the personification of decadence. Golden skin, sculpted features, silky black hair now currently neatly tied at the nape with a leather tie. Power hummed along his skin, immediately flooding those not immune to his charms with the sudden urge to partake of all the deadly sins. Even immortals found him irresistible; only the strongest willed humans had even a slight chance of resisting him when he turned his interest their way. There was a reason he was the boss.

“No problem,” Ryssa answered, shifting her body so she was in between the demon and David. As hoped, Karthik’s gaze shifted from David to the swell of her breasts above her laced corset. “He was just leaving.”

Karthik stared at her, sending a pulse of power into her as a warning. A bolt of lust skittered up and down her spine, making her shudder despite herself.

“Did he pay the cover charge?” Karthik asked silkily, his gaze rising over her shoulder to take in David again.

“What?  There was no cover - ” David started to say until Ryssa stepped back and strategically placed her stiletto heel on the toe of his expensive Italian leather shoe, a universal signal to shut up. Clearly the man had
no
sense of self-preservation. No one ever,
ever
, contradicted a demon like Karthik in his own demesne.

“I got it,” Ryssa said quickly.

Karthik’s eyes shifted back to her suddenly, surprised, a smile teasing his lips that had her stomach rolling queasily. “Really?”

The unfettered delight in the demon’s eyes almost changed her mind. She had held off Karthik’s advances during the six months she’d worked here, but it was the only way he would even consider releasing David unharmed.

“Yes,” she whispered, wishing her voice sounded stronger.

Behind her, David finally realized that something was going on. “I don’t need you to - ”

“David,” she said, without a trace of attitude or sarcasm. Her hand reached out and grasped his forearm, squeezing lightly. She allowed a surge of power to flow into him, needing him to understand. “Please. Go now. I’ve got this.”

Ryssa watched as David struggled against the force of her will. Through the contact, she could feel his confusion. He wanted to argue. He wanted to know why she had that look of desperation in her eyes. He wanted to know why, when she touched him, it felt like a series of fireworks went off in his chest.

She was kind of wondering that herself.

She jacked up the power until those thoughts calmed. He nodded. “You’ll come?”

Karthik laughed. “Oh, she’ll come all right.”

Ryssa paled further. Karthik knew full well she would not permit him or anyone else to use her body that way, which meant she would be forced to pay in other, physically painful ways.

“Yes.” She flicked her eyes to Karthik. His fiery red eyes sparkled, and she knew her dance card had just been filled for a while. “But not tonight.”

Knowing Karthik, not for a couple of days at least.

* * *

D
avid woke up in his bed, still in the clothes he’d worn the night before. He ran his hand down his face, feeling just slightly worse for wear. What the hell?  He didn’t remember leaving the bar, or driving home. The last thing he remembered was talking to Ryssa in that freak wannabe bar. There had been a flash, and then ... nothing.

Someone must have slipped him something without him knowing. He wouldn’t be surprised, given what he’d seen, heard, and smelled in the short time he’d been there. It was like some kind of twisted Goth costume party, with half the patrons dressed like extras in a bad B movie horror flick and the other half, a low-budget skin flick. Hell, for all he knew, they might have actually been filming a porno there, given some of the things he’d seen (or thought he’d seen) in the shadowy corners. A haze of smoke had hung in the air, weed and incense and fire, adding to the scents of leather and copper and God knew what else.

What
did
surprise him was that Ryssa worked there. It had taken a lot of cash to track her down, but it was money well-spent. He never would have thought the scruffy urchin would have been a closet Goth.

She’d looked so different, he barely recognized her. Instead of the shabby jeans and freshly scrubbed face, she’d been in some kind of kinky bondage get-up, all black leather and chains. Ratty sneakers had been replaced with sky-high stilettos that hurt like hell when she’d stepped on his toes. Her big gray eyes had been lined with charcoal, her lips stained a dark, bloody red. Instead of the loose ponytail she’d sported, her jet black hair hung to her waist in straight spikes striped with red, with studded cuffs around her wrists, ankles and neck.