Fear The Fall: Fallen Hunters Series

by Melissa Winters

  “You’re talking in riddles.”

  “Hear him out, Victoria. There is much to learn from the man who stole your heart and haunts your dreams.” With that, she walks past me and disappears.

  Maybe if Hell froze over. Perhaps her witchy signal is getting Zeke and Lucifer confused.

  I’m still contemplating her words on my stroll down Bourbon Street. As if the world weren’t already filled to the brim with evil, something worse threatens to take over. For as much as I resent my time on Earth, I’m beginning to fear it’ll be cut too short. I hardly allow myself time to enjoy any part of it.

  The sun is dipping down behind the landscape, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. I marvel at the beauty of God’s Earth.

  As a virtue angel, I never truly understood his fascination with his creation. I always thought humans were powerless weaklings that held no appeal and Earth was simply their dwelling. Now that I’m here and have time to open my eyes and look around, I get it. It’s a true masterpiece. As hurt as I was at being cast out and losing my wings, I can’t help but feel a bit lucky. It’s something I don’t deserve, but getting to experience this place and all the intense emotions that come with it feels like an unspoken gift.

  With war on the horizon and the possibility of the end close by, I vow here and now to look up to the sky a bit more, inhale the scents of flowers that waft in the air, and enjoy all the trappings of Earth while I can.

  Take Madame Solheim’s advice to heart and allow others their voice.

  I’m not in the market to have conversations with the devil about anything other than saving the world, but it looks like that’s exactly the talk we need to have. If I have information that could be helpful to keep him in power and the balance in order, then I’ll give it to him. The only problem? How does one summon the devil and not alert the other enemy?

  Blame

  My tires squeal as I turn the corner a little too hard. After meeting with Madame Solheim and having my moment of reflection, I know what needs to be done. I rushed back to my loft and dusted off the old Ford pickup that’s been rusting away under a sheet in the barn.

  Having spent my existence as an angel who flew everywhere, learning to drive hasn’t come naturally, and for the sake of the other drivers on the road, I typically choose to walk—or run—everywhere. Unfortunately for any unsuspecting human in my path tonight, neither walking nor running is an option now. I have to go too far, so the trusty black beast gets to put its wheels to the pavement.

  I’ve been driving for an hour when finally, a mile up the road, I see the entrance to St. Joseph Cemetery. The fact that I’ve spent entirely too much time in cemeteries as of late isn’t lost on me.

  The iron gates are open as if expecting my visit. Typically, they’re closed at sundown, and I expected to need to break in. At least one thing has gone my way tonight. I pull in and drive to the very back, out of view from the road. The truck rolls to a stop and I cut the engine, jumping out and shutting the door as quietly as possible. The cemetery is in the middle of the country, away from prying eyes, but I still don’t want to attract any unwanted attention, including that of the spirits who roam the cemetery.

  There’s a chill in the air, and a light blanket of mist hovers over the expanse of the grounds. The mostly full moon overhead shines down, giving the area just enough light to cast shadows between the tombs. On a typical night, St. Joseph’s would be creepy, but tonight, there’s a foreboding energy twirling through this place, causing goose bumps to pebble over my arms.

  These grounds have acted as the setting to a demon bloodbath once before. It’s the very place I was first called by Luke. Tonight, the tables are turning and I’m summoning him.

  “Lucifer,” I call out, arms spread above my head as if I were worshipping on a Sunday morning at church. “I know you hear me,” I accuse, not really knowing if it’s true, but hoping like hell it’s that easy. “I need you,” I say, trying to not squirm at the blasphemy.

  “I never thought I’d hear those words out of your mouth,” Luke says from behind me, and the intense relief that he of all people came almost makes me sick, but this one time I actually do need him.

  “You and me both,” I quip, turning toward him.

  Seeing him has the same effect it always does. It’s the equivalent of my breath rushing out of my body on an exhale. Falling from the sky, wings splayed out as I glide to earth, ready for battle. Equal parts exhilaration and liberation. Completely concerning and something I need to work to suppress.

  The reminder of my thorough lack of self-control changes the mood from civil to hostile in one second flat, and Luke doesn’t miss the shift.

  “Still blaming me for all your issues, love?”

  My face burns in outrage. “Because it is your fault.”

  “Do I have to remind you of that little thing called free will?”

  “I’m not a human.” I bite the words. “You and I both know that even here, I’m nothing more than a pawn. If I act out of place, God won’t hesitate to end me now. There’s no predestined fate to protect me.”

  He puts his hands up, shrugging in his arrogant maybe so, but it doesn’t change the facts way. “I never forced your feelings.”

  I choke out a humorless laugh. “Say what you want, but you were controlling our every interaction when you conned me into falling for you.”

  The cocky smile drops from his face. “I might have the ability to bend you to my will, love, but I never would. When you fell, that was your choice. I never forced your hand.”

  I take a threatening step toward him, finger raised in anger. “You pretended to care. You fooled me into thinking you were my soul mate.”

  My hand drops to my side and my head snaps away from his intense gaze. Admitting that’s how I felt—to him, of all people—is humiliating. If I felt like a fool then, I feel even worse now.

  “I never pretended to care, Victoria. I meant everything I said. All of it.”

  “Stop,” I whisper, turning my back to him. “Everything bad that’s happened is your fault.”

  His heavy breath is at my back, and I stiffen at his proximity. “If pinning this all on me helps you, then I’ll gladly shoulder the burden.”

  I inhale deeply, trying to control my shaking body. I came here for reasons more important than rehashing our past. It would do no good to stay on this carousel of pointing fingers. A war is upon us, and in a twisted turn of events, I need to work with the devil. Just this once.

  There are worse things than Lucifer ruling Hell, and the recent changes prove that theory.

  “Thank you,” he says, proving he’s once again in my head.

  “Ugh! See? Get out of my damn head.”

  I spin around, and he’s mere inches from me. Taking a step back, I put some much-needed distance between us.

  “You’re distressed. I was trying to uncover the source.” He’s not playing around. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is in a straight line, as though he’s trying to rein in his temper. “What’s wrong, Victoria?”

  He senses my fear, and it throws me off kilter.

  “How can you read me so well?” I say, hating the amazement in my voice.

  “Like I said, you’re radiating distress. I can practically taste it,” he scoffs, but not at me, at my reaction. “Who’s hurt you, Victoria? I swear I’ll end them.”

  I lower my head. “Too many people lately.”

  “I’m going to murder Ezekiel.”

  My head snaps up at Luke’s premature threat of violence. “Would you stop? I didn’t come for your help in homicide. I’m here to warn you.”

  His lips curl into a wide smile that takes over his entire face. “Warn me? Why, love, you wound me if you think I require warning about anything.”

  “It’s not funny, Luke. One of your demons has been laying the groundwork to overthrow you. He’s working with a coven, and they’ve created rings that allow demons to come out in the daylight. He has a damn amu
let around his neck to hide himself from you.” My voice pitches and hands fly up into the air in exasperation, as this information does nothing to change his expression of carelessness.

  He nods his head and begins to clap. “I must say, your detective work is sexy as hell, love. You could give the FBI a run for their money.”

  I groan, running my hands down my face in agitation. “Luke, stop. I’m serious. This is bad.”

  He moves toward me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I know he means to calm me—and he does—but he also manages to set my insides on fire. He has to realize how his touch affects me still. Even after everything, the pull to him is so strong, I want to fall to my knees and beg him not to leave me again. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to shake off the disgusting way he controls me without even trying.

  “I know about the plan, and I can assure you he’ll never win, Victoria. I’ve got it under control.”

  My breathing is ragged from the effort it’s taking to keep my cool.

  “A witch friend says otherwise. This coven the creature is working with is dark, Luke.”

  His eyes watch me closely. “Darker than me?”

  Our heads are close, mere inches apart. If I leaned in, I could feel his lips on mine once more. “I . . .”

  “Victoria.” My name slips off his tongue, sounding like a virtue, and my eyes close, unwilling to allow him to see how affected I am.

  “Please stop touching me,” I say in a controlled voice, trying to show restraint. His hand falls from my shoulder, trailing a slow line down my arms, causing goose bumps to rise in their wake. The warmth disappears with the loss of his touch.

  “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one affected by our proximity,” he says, smiling boyishly, and I internally grimace at just how much it affects me. This is the Luke I fell for, charming and playful. Being here like this with him isn’t good for me.

  “I was almost killed, Lucifer. That doesn’t seem like you have everything under control,” I say wearily. “Unless you don’t care about my life.”

  “That was an unfortunate slip that will never happen again.” His words come out as a near growl, his fists are clenched at his sides, and his face contorts, showcasing a barely contained rage.

  “He said he planned to capture me as a trophy.”

  Luke’s features darken and I take a step back, frightened by the depth of darkness I see.

  “He will never touch you again.” The words are grated through his teeth.

  “A war is brewing, Lucifer. I know it. The Nephilim know it. And so do the angels. You need to quit with the ego and admit it. You don’t have this under control. Leeanna and Michael are so desperate they sent me to the coven.”

  His brows raise. “Bastards are scared. Good.”

  “We can’t beat his army if we don’t work together.”

  “Never. I’ll do this alone.”

  I roll my eyes, tired of this conversation going in circles.

  “Then I’ll leave you to finish whatever game you’re playing with your demons,” I say, turning my back on him. “I suggest you end it soon. It’s getting out of hand.” I open the door to the truck and look over my shoulder once more at Luke. “If you ever cared for me at all, Lucifer, I beg you to end this.”

  I climb in and slam the door shut, turning the key, still in the ignition, but the damn thing won’t start. “Damn it.” I slam my fist into the steering wheel, hating that I couldn’t even be allowed the satisfaction of an exit on my terms. My head falls back in frustration, hitting the back of the headrest. “Ouch,” I call out, rubbing the back of my head.

  “Need some help?” Luke asks, leaning into the open truck window, smirking at my misfortune. I want to wipe the damn smile from his lips.

  “Do I really have to ask? Can you, for once, just do something nice?”

  He pops an eyebrow. “Does that sound like me?”

  “Ugh,” I moan in irritation, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh. “I’ve killed for smaller infractions, Lucifer. If I were you, I’d be leery.”

  He smothers his smile with his fist. “You’re right. I apologize. Let me get this working for you.”

  He starts to roll up his sleeves. “Pop the hood, would you?”

  My nose crinkles in confusion. “Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, getting out of the truck.

  “Okayyy. Guess I’m on my own here,” he says, tilting his head to the side and clenching his teeth, before lifting his hand and magically popping it open himself. “There,” he muses. “Now let’s see what’s going on.”

  “Use your magic so I can get the hell out of here,” I say, exasperated. “I have an hour-long drive home and I’m tired.”

  “I’ve never used my powers with you, and I’m not going to start now. We do this the mortal way.”

  “You just used your powers,” I deadpan, motioning toward the opened hood.

  He sighs. “That was an unfortunate slip. Won’t happen again.”

  I’m still stuck on the whole I’ve never used my powers with you part. I’m sure that’s a lie, but I’m struggling to conjure an instance to prove him wrong. He appears so sincere, and herein lies my problem. I’m easily duped by his charm. Or am I being too hard on him? A wise witch did tell me to hear him out, after all. Tonight, however, will not be that night. When I look back, he’s still inspecting the guts of my dead truck.

  “Oh my God, Luke, please.”

  “Using your creator’s name in vain now, are you?”

  “Don’t start,” I say, sounding worn out.

  He eyes me curiously. “You aren’t in any position to drive, angel.”

  I stiffen at that name. For so many reasons, I hate when he says it. It’s like he’s mocking me, and I instantly want to punch him.

  “I’m sorry, Victoria.” he amends. “Let me get you home. I’ll make sure your truck gets back too.”

  “I don’t want your help, Lucifer,” I bite, and he frowns.

  “You did a moment ago. Don’t be too proud, love. I just want you to get home safe.”

  I sigh heavily, wanting to be in my bed, wrapped in my down comforter, away from this being that confuses me on so many levels. “Okay,” I finally acquiesce.

  “Okay.” He smiles a closed-lip smile. “Close your eyes, and when you wake, you’ll be back at your loft.”

  “Do you promise?” I level him with a raised brow and thinned lips.

  “Where else would I send you?” His nose is scrunched, as if I just insulted him on the highest level.

  “Just promise. No funny business.”

  He nods. “Home. To your feather bed. Alone.” He stresses the last word as though he has any control over who ends up in my bed.

  I do as he instructs, and right before anything happens, I realize what he’s just said.

  The asshole knows where I live.

  Of course he does.

  Everybody Rise

  The alarm clock on my nightstand blares some song about waking up with a curse, and I groan in response. The fact that the alarm was set in the first place annoys me, as I have nowhere to be. I reach over, grabbing the cord and yanking it from the wall. The music stops, leaving me in peaceful silence once again.

  I kick the heavy down comforter to the end of the bed, too warm to be comfortable.

  “I must say, love, I’m quite fond of that lacy thong. Black is definitely your color.”

  I jump up, squealing in horror at finding Luke in my room. On my bed.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I shriek.

  Without looking fazed in the slightest, he jumps right in. “You owe me.”

  I clutch the covers to my half-naked chest. “Like hell I do.”

  He tsks. “Don’t tell me you forgot how I saved you from Rix.”

  “Rix?” I ask, voice rising in confusion.

  “My hound,” he explains, picking a piece of lint off his black T-shirt.

  He’s dressed in head-to-toe black, and it takes ever
ything in me not to drool. The T-shirt molds to his body like a second skin, showcasing his toned arms. He looks absolutely sinful, and at this moment, still half asleep, I admit I’d give just about anything for a taste.

  A slow grin spreads across Luke’s face. “That can absolutely be arranged.”

  “Ugh,” I cry out, hating that he can read me so easily. “Get out.” I point to the door.

  “No can do. I came to collect, and I’m not leaving until your debt is settled.”

  “I didn’t ask you to save me.”

  “You did. It was unspoken, but”—he taps his head—“I can read your mind and you wanted saving. And your debt keeps mounting.”

  “How so?”

  “Last night I saved you from having to drive home in that death trap you call a truck.”

  “You are the most frustrating man I’ve ever met,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not a man, love. I’m so much more, and you know it.”

  “Semantics. You have the parts.”

  He smirks. “Yes, well in that regard, I guess you could say I’m all man. Care to see?” He waggles his brows and I roll my eyes.

  “Pass,” I quip, standing from the bed, not even trying to hide my basically bare ass.

  Look, but you’re never touching.

  “Get on with it, Luke. What do you want?”

  He clears his throat. “A date.”

  I turn back toward him. “A date? With whom?”

  “I thought that was rather obvious,” he says, tilting his head.

  “Nope. No way,” I say, shaking my head and turning around to sift through my dresser. I’m so caught off guard, I don’t even remember what I was looking for.

  “Red cropped shirt,” he says. “It’s in the back.” I have to take a deep breath so as not to react to his constant invasion of my inner thoughts.

  “Think of something else for payment,” I press forward, wanting to get this conversation over with, so that he’ll leave me the hell alone.

  “It’s non-negotiable. That’s what I want,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.