Hardest Fall

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Hardest Fall Page 19

by Juliette Cross


  He made a choking, cynical noise deep in his throat and stopped talking. I was riveted, needing to know why this name brought on such darkness.

  “I take it he was a bad man.”

  He turned. I flinched. The fierce look of rage and regret sharpened the hard angles of his face from beauty to a mask of dark fury.

  “He wasn’t a man, Carowyn. He was Damas.”

  I froze, a prickling shiver shooting down my spine. The demon prince who’d done nothing but manipulate and twist everything he touched toward evil. He died on the night of the Blood Moon, the night the apocalypse began. And still, his name filled me with dread. As it did everyone.

  “What did he do to you?” I asked gently.

  “Nothing I didn’t let him do.”

  Uncrossing his arms, he tucked his hands in his pockets, looking like a fashion model, not a demon hunter about to confess the worst parts of himself to his new lover.

  “He was charismatic, as most demon princes are.” He bit his bottom lip before continuing with a shake of the head. “He invited me to some of those hellfire clubs. And though what took place there bordered on criminal, the women who frequented those places went of their own free will. Until…one night he took me to an underground club.”

  He strolled to his bar and poured a full tumbler of Scotch. I remained silent, waiting.

  “But this night, it wasn’t the kind of hellfire club I’d become used to.” He knocked back a deep swallow.

  “What kind was it?”

  “An auction.” He leveled his gaze on me. I stared back without judgment, knowing and fearing where this was going. “The men there weren’t men at all, I learned later. They were high demons, summoned by another demon prince, Calliban.”

  I swallowed, but my throat had gone desert dry. Calliban was now wreaking havoc on America, or so I’d been told, enslaving and staking out territory, slaughtering anyone who got in his way.

  “And Calliban had caught a pretty prize. He had her dressed in white, waltzing with one of his minions to show the audience the merchandise. Do you know who she was?”

  The stark, raw pain on his face made me want to tell him to stop. But I realized this wasn’t just for me. This was for him. I had to listen. Had to hear his confession, let him pour it all out.

  “Who was she?”

  “Lady Katherine Blakely. Otherwise known as Kat, the demon hunter.”

  Nausea rolled in my stomach. George’s Kat. That fierce fighter for the Light.

  “I’d gone blindly into that place with Damas, thinking to find yet another good time in some den of debauchery. Only to find a woman, obviously being held against her will, being auctioned off to the highest bidder as a sex slave. Calliban had a big bid going because she was the lover of the George Draconis, the slayer of demons.”

  “What—” The words stuck in my throat. “What happened to her?”

  “Oh, I helped Damas, thinking him the viscount, and saved her from that nest of vipers. As soon as we stepped out of that underground lair, we were attacked by George and Jude.”

  Jude was a hunter who had worked with George the longest, Dommiel had told me.

  “Of course, I didn’t even know then that George was actually my blood kin. So I fought them,” he said, with such disgust that I drew back. “I fought my own cousin, defending my so-called friend so that Damas could steal away with Kat.” He strayed back to the windows, standing as far away from me as possible. “And he did, you know. He took her and held her captive for…for far too long.”

  I thought about Rook and Simian and the evil they wore like cloaks, the things they did to innocents, solely for the pleasure of doing something foul and destructive. I had an entirely new respect for Kat, having somehow escaped Damas. She certainly was no longer a victim, for she was one of the fiercest fighters I’d ever seen. I moved off the sofa and stepped closer, but didn’t touch him.

  “Xander, I’m sure Damas used his essence on you. That would’ve clouded your judgment.”

  “No.” He turned me, his voice rough as stone. “It wasn’t that. He had some other power over me, but it only showed what a fool I was. It was my own stupidity and weakness that led me to that point, betraying my own kin and helping a demon prince abduct the woman he loved.”

  Xander’s voice shook with loathing. For himself. I stepped closer.

  “How did you become a hunter, then?”

  “I’d been mortally wounded by Jude in the fight. Rightly so. I was keeping the company of a demon prince and helping him do his foul work, so that was mortal sin enough on my soul. But George…he wouldn’t let me die and go to hell where I belonged. He called Uriel and asked him to make me one of them.”

  “And so he did.”

  A stiff nod. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper, almost reverent. “When George had finally saved Kat from Damas—and it had been a very long time—I found the courage to approach him about what I’d done. He waved it off and said it wasn’t my fault. But that’s wrong. It was. If I hadn’t been blinded by my own ignorance and selfishness, Kat never would’ve been taken. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

  “But I’m sure George has. And Kat.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I made a vow to him that I’d fight to the death to keep that from happening to any other woman. To any person at all.”

  Oh. Now it all made sense. The violence that nearly made him launch into a suicide mission back at the masquerade was because of this. Because it was happening again. And not just to one person. But many.

  “Why did you tell me this?” I asked, finally reaching out to touch him, placing a hand on his neck. It was so warm.

  “So you’d know the worst part of me before we went any further.”

  I scoffed. “You think I’m not without sin?” Rook flashed in my mind—naked over me, inside me. Smiling at his control over me. I shook off the dreadful memory that made bile rise in my throat.

  “No one is without sin. It’s how we choose to atone for our self-imposed darkness that makes the difference. I wanted you to know who I am, what I was.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need you to know the worst part of me. And to accept it.”

  Breathless, for I felt us tumbling down a hole together, my arms flailing and unable to catch hold, no way to stop my descent. We weren’t tumbling toward darkness, but toward a world of color that promised every single emotion—pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow, longing, agony, ecstasy, despair. And still, I couldn’t help but fall faster when I asked him, “Why?”

  He cupped my face, a pitying sort of look pinching his brow as he brushed his thumbs just under the slant of my cheekbones. “Because…” He paused, gazing deep, promising a truth that would rattle my world. “Because you own my heart, Carowyn. It’s been yours from the moment you opened my chest and put it back together.”

  Relief and fear overwhelmed me so hard and so fast, my knees buckled. He caught me at the waist with a chuckle, then a buzzing came from his coat pocket. Steadying me, he reached in and pulled out his phone. His somber face cracked into a grin when he read the text apparently waiting for him.

  “George?” I asked, still trying to come down from a surreal high at what he’d just told me.

  He inhaled and read, “‘Wherever the bloody hell you are, you’d better leave right bloody now and get your arse right bloody here.’” He tucked the phone back inside his coat pocket. I noted he had a handgun holstered at his hip. “I suppose we’ve tarried long enough, then.”

  He took my hand and led me toward the rooftop, lacing his fingers through mine like we were just two lovers out on a stroll.

  “Did you see any of the red priests watching my place when you went?”

  “None.”

  I frowned. “That’s rather odd, don’t you think?”

  “Very.” The outer door shut behind us as we walked out onto the roof, the city below shrouded in dense fog. “I’m sure George has a plan. Which
is why he’s pissed I haven’t answered his summons.”

  “We were preoccupied.”

  He swung around and clutched me in his arms, sucking the breath right out of me. His voice rumbled deep as he gripped the nape of my neck and tipped me back.

  “That we were, my love.”

  Then he kissed me and spun us into the Void. Dizzy and drunk from his words, his mouth, and his body, I relaxed into his arms and relished the fall through time and space with my eyes closed, my heart open, and happier than I’d ever been in my entire immortal life.

  And yet, wrapped in the aura of Xander, I couldn’t avoid the distant tapping of doom, whispering a soft rap at my heart’s door. I tried to ignore it, to push it away, to convince myself everything would be all right.

  Still…the knock persisted.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Xander

  George gave me the paternal arched brow when Carowyn and I entered the parlor. He, Kat, and Dommiel had apparently been in deep conversation.

  Dommiel grinned like a fiend. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

  Taking some offense, I scowled. “Are you talking about me or her?”

  He chuckled. “The pair of you together, Goldilocks.”

  “Look, Blackheart—”

  “We have no time for this,” said George, thoroughly cutting us off with his military-man-on-a-mission bearing. “We expected fallout in our London hotspots last night, but neither Rook nor Simian nor their priests showed up anywhere. Anya did some brief reconnaissance from the air early this morning and said the castle looks deserted, except for guards at the main gate and hellhounds guarding the perimeter.”

  A flare burned through my gut. “What about the human slaves in the compound?”

  “We don’t know,” answered Kat, her face cold and grim. “Everything has gone quiet. Sifted to some other stronghold, I suppose, unless they’re still in that prison compound. We won’t know until we get inside.”

  Dommiel scratched his stubbled jaw. “It’s possible.”

  “Regardless,” I added, “I know why they’re holding these auctions.”

  Kat snorted. “You mean other than to sell people into slavery?”

  I softened my voice, remembering she’d endured such captivity. “Other than that, yes. I noticed that those in attendance were primarily high demons in service to Vladek.”

  Kat shrugged. “Brothers selling slaves to brothers. I don’t see what’s so new about this.”

  I glanced at Carowyn, her hazel eyes intent on me. “Those in this special auction were being sold with a golden torque about their necks.”

  She smiled sadly. We’d not said a word about our mutual discovery, but it was obvious to us both, knowing about her secret commission. She swiveled to them with a deep breath.

  “By creating a torque embedded with the essence of Rook and Simian, they’d still have control over the slave who wore it when they were put into the service of Vladek.”

  Dommiel crossed his arms, leaning back casually against the wall. “They plan to use one of their slaves to assassinate Vladek. Most probably they’ll have an army of priests ready to attack, and then they’ll take control of his territories.”

  George’s keen expression shifted from him to us then toward the window, where he walked over and looked out, pensive.

  “Now, that’s quite a plan,” Kat finally added.

  “Indeed,” I agreed. “It explains why he was so desperate for Carowyn to create the torque.”

  “Carowyn?” Dommiel’s brows rose high on his head. The fiend shook his head as realization seeped in. “Oh, Goldie. You’ve got it bad.”

  “It also explains”—she interrupted before the bloody demon could make any more remarks—“why Rook wanted me to keep this so quiet. He forbade me from talking to anyone about the commission.”

  “He wouldn’t want word to leak out so Vladek could put two and two together,” added Kat.

  George remained facing out. “Bone, what did Rook tell you last night right before we escaped?”

  The memory of that prick holding her down and growling some foul words into her face ignited a new burning in my chest. I wanted, no, needed to get my hands on him. He was going to the lowest pit in Erebus if I had to drag his ass there myself.

  She glanced at me with a nervous twitch of her lips. That didn’t bode well.

  “He demanded that I make the torque for him.”

  I held my emotions in check, knowing full well I was about to grind my molars into dust.

  A stiff nod from George. “Then he knows we know what his intentions are.”

  Dommiel lifted off the wall, his growling voice a warning that his demon had edged to the surface. That and the fact that his dark eye glinted red now.

  “That means he knows we’ll try to use the information against him in some way. Perhaps even tell Vladek.”

  “Let the brothers kill each other,” said Kat, her stiff posture, arms crossed, expressing far more than her words. “Why do we need to get involved at all?”

  “Because.” George turned from the window. “Rook wants that torque. And if Bone doesn’t make it, he’ll not just punish her. He’ll punish us all for harboring her.”

  “Then I should go.”

  “Like bloody hell you will!” I hardly recognized my own voice when I turned and grabbed her arm to keep her in place, just in case she was deciding to disappear suddenly.

  She tilted her head with that snarky-sad smile. “It’s safer for everyone here if I go somewhere else. I can find someplace. Hide somewhere.”

  “No,” I grated with harsh, cold finality.

  “This is highly amusing,” said Dommiel. “Does anyone else see this?”

  I didn’t look at him, nor did Carowyn. George barreled on, ignoring him as well.

  “That’s all fine and good, Bone. But the problem is, he already knows you’re in league with us. So he’ll seek to destroy us regardless.”

  She tore her attention away from me to George. “I didn’t want this.”

  “Of course not,” he reassured her. “We put these wheels in motion. Not you. And we’ll get them moving faster now. Besides, there’s a chance those humans are still being held captive in that prison compound behind Allerton Castle. If not, we may be able to get a confession out of one of their men as to where they’ve been moved. So that’s still our target, whether Rook and Simian have gone into hiding in their lair in hell or not.”

  “So you have a plan?”

  George nodded. “Almost. We’ve been waiting for you. Uriel says he has a plan. We have a rendezvous with him and Maximus in”—he glanced at his watch—“ten minutes.”

  “Good,” said Carowyn. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “You’ll stay here,” said George. “It’s not likely we’d be followed, but you’re now at the top of their most wanted list, I’m sure.”

  “Welcome to the party,” grumbled Dommiel.

  George barreled on. “Regardless, we’ve reinforced the wards here with multiple forms of magic.”

  Now that was curious. “Really?” I asked. “By whom?”

  “Uriel, Maximus.” He nodded to Dommiel. “Even he and Axel cast a particular spell around the place.”

  Interesting, since demon-cast wards didn’t keep out demons. But everyone knew after we found and saved Dommiel from hell several months ago that he was no longer entirely demon. I wondered what kind of cast of protection a fallen angel/former demon put on a place.

  “Yeah,” said Dommiel with an arrogant smirk. “This place is a supernatural Fort Knox.”

  Anya walked into the parlor, her sapphire wings taut at her back. She was decked in full black with a blade strapped to every limb and a harness crisscrossing her breasts. Her black hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. She stopped at the entry, feet planted apart, her hands on her hips.

  “Are we ready? It’s time.”

  “Oh, baby.” Dommiel’s gaz
e burned across the room right before he sidled closer. “I’m always ready.”

  She stopped his progress with a hand to his chest, a knowing smile spreading wide. Then she slid her hand up to cup his jaw in an achingly tender gesture before she whispered. “After.”

  “Let’s go, ladies and gents,” he called, threading his fingers through Anya’s and tugging her from the room.

  She laughed then squealed in the hall right beyond the door to whatever he did. The demon hadn’t kept his hands off her since the odd couple had first bound themselves to each other a few months ago. I glanced at Carowyn, who had that sweet-sad smile again, watching the door.

  “All right then. Alexander,” said George. “Let’s move along.”

  Kat followed, leaving me alone with Carowyn. She still watched the door. I moved my body into her line of vision, forcing her to look up at me.

  “We won’t be too long. You can find Maddie and work with her. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

  A tight nod. “Yes. I’d like that.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re going to cry?”

  She made a disgusted sound. “I don’t cry.”

  And still, her eyes were misted. I edged closer and cupped her beautiful face in my hands. “What’s wrong?”

  She closed her eyes and heaved out a wretched sigh, gripping my wrists as if to keep my hands in place, not to pull them away. Then she opened her eyes, the fiery gold sparking with otherworld power.

  “Because you’re venturing out there where Rook and Simian are probably laying traps and waiting to attack, and it’s all because of me and that stupid torque, and I would literally die”—her voice cracked, and she inhaled a jagged breath—“if anything happened to you.” She whispered the last.

  I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sweet mouth.

  “I’ll burn the whole world to keep you safe, Carowyn.” A soft brush of lips as I inhaled her breath. “Don’t you worry. I’ll always come back to you.”

  A roll of those beautiful eyes. “So arrogant.”

  “When it’s true, it’s called confidence.”

 

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