Fear The Fall: Fallen Hunters Series

by Melissa Winters

  His fingers graze mine, and I can’t help but interlace mine with his. We lie there in the dark quiet of the night for what feels like hours. Words aren’t necessary, as his touch tells me everything I need to know about the man beside me. He’s gentle, capable of love, and he would be all mine if only it were possible.

  As if sensing the direction of my wayward thoughts, he speaks, “I can’t hide how I feel, Victoria. I want to know you better.”

  I huff. “That’s impossible, Luke. It’s forbidden for a reason.”

  He sits up, turning toward me. “What if I were to need your assistance again?”

  I eye him skeptically. “Playing with fire.”

  Those piercing green eyes seem to dance. “For you, I’d walk right through it,” he declares, leaning over me and placing a kiss on my temple. “Tell me I can see you again.”

  The answer is simple. No is the only word that should slip from my lips. We can’t do this; it’ll only bring trouble to both of us. If for no other reason, I need to protect him. But that’s not what comes out.

  “I-I’ll try,” I lie, knowing it’s a promise I can’t keep.

  Luke frowns, as if he knows I’m simply placating him.

  “Will you stay with me for a few more minutes?” he asks, sounding far away.

  I squeeze his hand in answer, not wanting the moment to end. If I could stay forever, I would.

  My eyes flutter open, and I sigh at the memory. Two nights in a row, Luke has commanded my dreams, and as much as I want to lie and say I hate it, I don’t. A part of me will always crave him, because he wills it so. That’s exactly why I need to keep Zeke at arm’s length.

  I roll to my side, taking in the sleeping form of the fallen angel next to me. His dark blond hair is matted to his forehead. My hand comes up and swipes the errant strands away, wishing I didn’t have to complicate things.

  “You’re awake,” his deep, groggy voice says with a hint of a smile to it.

  “I had a nightmare.”

  It’s not a complete lie. That memory might’ve been one to hold on to if it were anyone other than Luke it had been shared with.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl?”

  I sigh. “Too heavy a conversation for this early in the morning,” I admit wearily. “But one we definitely need to have soon.”

  Zeke props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with concern. “Trust me, Tori. Tell me your secrets.”

  He has no idea what he’s asking for. The truth will send him packing. He might’ve fallen, but my story is too much for even him to handle.

  Trust him.

  If I tell him and he runs away, then I can get back to life, hunting and being utterly alone. Or I could confide in someone for the first time, and maybe he’ll understand. Maybe he’ll still choose to stick around.

  I don’t say a word, lifting myself from the bed and heading to the single-serve coffee machine sitting on a desk in the corner. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but every now and then it’s necessary. This is one of those times. I can’t make decisions about sharing my deepest secrets while I’m still half asleep. I can only hope it’ll buy me time to think.

  Thankfully, Zeke gives me the space I need, not saying a word. I go about making the coffee, carrying out the mundane steps needed to start the machine. All the while, I can feel his eyes burning a hole into my back. I don’t dare turn around.

  I stretch my arms up over my head, stretching out the kinks. Maybe I can distract him enough that once my coffee is done, the subject will be changed to sex. Seems like a great change.

  “Tori.” My name’s drawn out in a scold as though Zeke read my mind. “Stop avoiding.”

  Luck is not on my side, apparently.

  “I’m making coffee, Zeke. Can’t you just be patient?” I call out over my shoulder, not actually making eye contact with him. I’m such a damn chicken.

  He grunts but doesn’t say another word, and for that I’m thankful.

  The machine beeps, signaling my coffee’s done and time’s up. I take the piping-hot mug from under the dispenser and turn slowly. My eyes connect with Zeke and I take a sip, trying to buy myself even more time.

  “Gah!” I screech as the entirety of the inside of my mouth is scorched from the far-too-hot liquid that’s now spilling onto my hand. “Ahh!”

  I slam the cup down on the counter, grabbing a rag and covering my hand.

  “Come here,” he says, motioning to the spot next to him.

  My tongue moves across the roof of my burned mouth, feeling the bubbled top and wishing I hadn’t been such an idiot.

  “Tori. Come sit.”

  I expel a breath, making my way to the bed and taking a seat.

  “Are you okay?” Zeke places his hand on my cheek, looking deeply into my eyes.

  I sigh at his touch and the gentleness in his tone. No matter how far I try to run, he’s always there to make me second-guess my actions. He’s shown me in so many ways just how much he cares. He’s the one person I can trust, and there’s a large part of me begging to confess my sins to receive absolution.

  Deciding to put my faith in Zeke, I take a deep breath and dive in.

  “During a battle on Earth, I stumbled across a woman who was badly injured in the cross fire. There was a man with her.” I pause, taking another breath, and forge ahead. “He asked me to intervene. He knew what I was, Zeke, and it didn’t scare him.”

  “He asked you to save his wife?” Zeke’s eyes are narrowed, giving away the fact he likely already knows the answer.

  I shake my head. “They were together, but not . . . together. She was a single mom.”

  “So you helped her?”

  “I did. But that’s not even the worst of it. He asked my name, and I gave it to him.”

  Zeke’s eyes widen. “Why would you do that? You know how serious that is.”

  “You’re right. I did know. But it didn’t stop me. I gave it willingly, and I only just barely regretted it.” I tell the truth, because why lie? If I’m going to come clean, no sense in leaving out the minor details.

  “Why didn’t you care, Tori?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. At least . . . I’m not sure why that first time didn’t shake me.”

  “There were more times?”

  I chew on my lip, not loving his accusatory tone.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . surprised.”

  “Yeah, well, it surprised me too.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You gave your name to a human, and he used it every time he found himself in harm’s way.”

  “Sort of,” I say, trying to skirt the whole truth. I’m not ready to divulge it all to him, despite my early confidence. His reactions have me backpedaling that notion. Baby steps.

  “Sort of,” he repeats.

  “In truth, he only called out my name twice. Once was for help, and another was just to see me.”

  “Let me guess—the mortal fell for the angel,” he said, lips turned up into a knowing smile. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  I lower my head, feeling small under the weight of Zeke’s stare. He doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by any of it, and that has me questioning what his story is.

  Or I could just be satisfied that he’s not running.

  My conscience can be such a condescending brat.

  “The question is, did you fall for him?”

  It’s the one question I knew he’d ask but hoped he wouldn’t. Isn’t it obvious? I fell from Heaven. For what other reason, given my story, would I choose that fate? This isn’t him not knowing. This is him wanting me to say it out loud. Needing me to admit my greatest sin.

  “Yes,” I say, so quietly Zeke has to lean in to hear.

  He whistles, and I glare at his reaction.

  “I had my suspicions, but I never saw you being the type.”

  I bristle at his words. “The type?” I grate.

  “Sweetheart, stop. I don’t mean it like that. I
t’s just you’ve always been such an independent woman. It’s hard for me to hear that another man was enough to make you give everything up.” He sits up, back against the headboard. “If I’m being honest, I hate that a guy had so much hold over you.”

  His deep frown and his arms crossed tightly over his chiseled chest give him away.

  “You’re jealous,” I accuse, not able to mask my smile.

  “Hell yes, I’m jealous.”

  I lean over and place a kiss on his mouth. “Trust me, the joke was on me.”

  Zeke relaxes, dropping his arms to his sides. “Will you tell me what happened?”

  I groan but relent. “One night after I left him, I found Michael waiting for me back in Heaven. He dragged me in front of the council, and I was put on trial. They ruled that I gave my name. I argued it was given only under duress from the battle I’d just fought, and that the human had used it against me. They rejected my argument but spared me damnation. God stripped me of my rapier and banned me from fighting on Earth.”

  “Woah, that’s . . . surprising. I’m shocked you weren’t banished right then and there.”

  “If I had been one of the weaker angels, I probably would’ve been.”

  Zeke winced, and I realized my mistake. He was one of those weaker angels.

  “I’m sorry, Zeke. I didn’t mean it.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t apologize for speaking truth, Tori.” He may have waved off my apology, but his tone was laced with bitterness. “Tell me how you ended up falling.”

  I want to refuse based on his current mood, but instead, I allow the words to spill out.

  “He was in danger and called my name. Having had it stripped from me, I didn’t feel the pull to go because of otherworldly powers. This time, I chose it all on my own,” I admit, lowering my head in shame. “I fell because I loved him, and I couldn’t allow him to die.”

  “Love, then,” Zeke says, a hint of sadness underlining his words.

  “At that time, I thought so.”

  We sit in quiet contemplation for some time. I think back on all the moments that led up to that night. My brothers’ stern talks after my trial, warning me to fear the fall. Looking back, it’s almost like they knew it was inevitable but didn’t attempt to sway me.

  If only one of them had shaken me and forced me to see the truth that I had been missing. I was about to fall for someone who could never truly love me back.

  Zeke feels miles away, and I wonder if I’ve just put myself in a similar situation. Zeke might want me, but love is something else entirely. It isn’t an emotion that one chooses, knowing how harshly it can tear you apart when it’s gone.

  No matter what happens between Zeke and me, this time, it won’t break me. That was already accomplished with the fall.

  Sucker for Pain

  Two days have gone by and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Zeke. When he left the loft the other day, he said he was going to round up his humans and get them caught up on the newest demons we encountered. He’d explained that he thought, given the events of the last time we were all together, the news would be better received if I wasn’t there.

  Two days is getting a bit excessive, and I can’t help but feel like he’s actually avoiding me. I trusted him with my secret—at least a good portion of it—because he asked me to. He can’t be mad now. He fell too, and that means there isn’t anything I’ve done that he can’t rival. Liar.

  I’ve spent the past two days taking my frustration out on the punching bag hanging from the barn rafters. Without knowing what else is roaming around out there, I haven’t hunted. Fear isn’t the issue. It’s knowing when more training is needed. I have to be prepared, and storing energy is my preparation. Sure, I’ll conjure another storm before we fight, but that’s not something I can do every day. At some point, even in New Orleans, people would get suspicious.

  In the meantime, I’ve been working on my strength. Starting by kicking the shit out of the bag again. I’m thirty minutes into my boxing workout when the sound of tires on the gravel alerts me to someone’s approach—multiple someones. I grab a towel and wipe the sweat from my forehead, slinging the wet cloth onto a nearby chair.

  Zeke saunters in, two hundred pounds of well-muscled angel. If he had shown up two days ago looking like this, I might’ve jumped him, but today . . . not a chance.

  “Hey, baby,” he croons, but I turn my back, effectively ignoring him.

  He doesn’t get to disregard me for two days and then show up here like everything is fine. Doesn’t he know I’ve been questioning everything in his absence?

  “Victoria,” he calls, sounding mildly peeved at my less-than-hospitable behavior. “You’re the one who chose a physical-only relationship.”

  Ass. Hole.

  Throwing my own damn words back at me is low. Or fair. But that’s something I won’t admit out loud.

  “You can’t just ignore me.”

  “Wrong,” I seethe.

  I’m just about ready to tell him where he can go when I feel him at my back. His large hands come to my hips, pulling me back into his chest. His warm breath tickles my ears, and I try to repress the shiver it causes.

  “You missed me that much?” he murmurs, and I turn to slap his chest.

  “Don’t try to be cute, Zeke. I’m pissed,” I say, stalking off toward the loft stairs.

  He catches me by the elbow, swinging me back toward him.

  “Victoria, stop,” he begs. “Let me speak.”

  I yank out of his grip, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s as much permission as he’s going to get.

  “I did what we discussed. I rounded up the troops. They’re here, ready to start training,” he says, motioning toward the open barn door. “You don’t get to have it both ways. This is either a friends-with-benefits situation or it’s more. You choose, but you don’t get both.”

  I hate him in this moment. Or more accurately, I hate his wise words and these damn human emotions swirling through me. It’s confusing. Maddening. Awful.

  Instead of acknowledging either choice, I turn back to the present situation. Humans are here and ready to fight.

  “They’re not going to get in my way?”

  “Can’t promise that. But they are trainable,” Zeke says.

  I suck my teeth before heading toward the driveway. Sure enough, a group of eager humans congregate around two additional trucks parked in the drive. Twice as many as Blaine’s original group.

  “Guys, meet Tori,” Zeke says, saddling up beside me.

  Names are rattled off in succession, but I hardly pay attention. I don’t need to know their names; I need to know if they can fight. More importantly, I need to know if they can be trusted.

  Humans are easily swayed by dark forces. If their lives are offered in exchange for their abandonment of our cause, they’ll likely take it without a second thought. That doesn’t make them evil; it makes them human. Which is exactly why I’ve never agreed to fight alongside them before.

  “What are you fighting with?” I ask, hoping like hell none of them say their fists. If that’s the answer, I’m going it alone.

  A redhead with a face full of freckles steps forward. “Chad, ma’am. We’ve all worked with a coven—Dubai Coven of Savannah—to have blades, enchanted with angel rock, created.”

  My eyes shoot to Zeke’s. I hope he can read my mind. What the actual hell. Humans working with witches? It appears the demons aren’t the only ones sidling up to the covens.

  “Did you organize this pact for them?” I direct my question toward Zeke. He grins in reply. “Did you discuss the current demon situation?”

  “He did,” Chad pipes up. “We’re ready to train.”

  “You do realize that a hellhound was recently spotted,” I press, wanting to gauge just how much Zeke has told them.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he drawls.

  “And you understand that means Lucifer is on Earth?”

  He nods. “We’re prepared to die if it
means saving the human race.”

  I huff, unconvinced that these men truly grasp the severity of Chad’s declaration. Either way, it’s their decision.

  “Fine. Let’s train,” I say, walking back toward the barn with six humans lagging behind, none of which are Blaine and his crew.

  “Who are these people?” I ask, as Zeke steps next to me. “Where’s Blaine?”

  “They’re Savannah hunters. I met them last year. Blaine will be here. He needed some time to process everything.”

  I roll my eyes. “He’s a pain in the ass.”

  Zeke chuckles. “That he can be.”

  We pair off, Zeke and I taking the lead. For over an hour, we practice fighting techniques, hand-to-hand combat and a cross between Muay Thai and judo.

  I have to admit that the stamina and overall aptitude of the men is refreshing. A part of me had been convinced that they’d fall short, but Zeke was right. These men are skilled fighters.

  Zeke and I are in a fighting sequence when he leans in and quietly says, “Are you going to admit I was right all along?”

  My mouth forms a thin line, and I kick, trying to take out his feet. I miss, growling in frustration. I’m still miffed with Zeke, and his cocky attitude isn’t helping. Based on his grin, he knows he’s getting to me. I’m itching to wipe it off his face.

  He takes advantage of my irritation and strikes back with his own kick. I fall heavily to my knees. My fists slam against the mat, anger rising at the fact that I was so distracted that I allowed him to take me down.

  I spring to my feet, and we circle each other in crouched positions. My black tank top hugs my curves and showcases the swell of my breasts. I press my arms to my sides, forcing my cleavage to pop. Zeke doesn’t miss the protruding globes, and it’s my turn to smirk, because he’s officially distracted. He may be angelic, but not even that makes him immune to my female wiles.

  I lunge forward, grabbing him by the neck and flipping over his body to bring him onto his back. I throw my legs over his chest so that I’m straddling him.