Finding Me (Another Falls Creek Romance Book 2)

by SF Benson

  When I return, Ezekiel has a smile on his face. “Jeremiah will be at my shop, Dark Wing Ink, soon.”

  “He knows that I’ll be there?” I ask.

  “Naw. I told him I wanted to train.”

  “Train?”

  “Ever since he had the run in with your father, Jeremiah thinks he needs to refresh his fighting skills.”

  Wouldn’t hurt.

  “You’ll find him up on the roof. One good thing about him no longer having wings—he can’t evade a conversation by taking off.” Ezekiel starts to stand up.

  “One more thing.”

  “What?” He perches on the edge of the furniture.

  “Tell me how Jeremiah lost his wings.” It’s been nagging me ever since I saw the scars. “I need to understand how it happened.”

  Ezekiel slides back on the sofa and scrubs a hand over his face. “They jumped him. A group of warriors took him down when I wasn’t around. Jeremiah didn’t have a chance. Two held him down while another one ripped and pulled at his wings until they separated from his flesh.”

  Bile rises up my throat.

  “Marjorie was the one who found him. I followed the trail of blood. It’s common for fallen angels to lose their wings, but those bastards showed no mercy. Assholes could have cut them off and given my brother a chance. He nearly died from their actions.” Ezekiel lowers his chin. “Thank God, I could heal him.”

  “But he has scars. Isn’t an angel’s touch supposed to cure?”

  Ezekiel glances up. “It would have if I’d gotten to him sooner. Marjorie did her best to bandage him up. I took away the pain. When the bleeding wouldn’t stop, we had to take him to the hospital. Unfortunately, we also had to tell Marjorie what we were. She told the doctors that Jeremiah had been mugged.”

  “A mugger wouldn’t have torn his flesh apart,” I point out.

  “She said his attackers saw him coming out of a gay strip club. They wanted to make sure he didn’t appeal to anyone else.”

  Understood. Poor Jeremiah. My heart hurts for him and Ezekiel. The angel’s watery eyes make it obvious that he blames himself for what happened.

  “It’s why I stayed here. Hearing Marjorie’s words, I realized dangers waited for Jeremiah. After his attack, I swore no one would ever hurt my brother again.” Ezekiel stands. “If you love Jeremiah the way I think you do, fight for him. Protect him. Cherish him. If you do those things, consider me your brother too. If anyone tries to hurt you, they’ll answer to me. That includes that bastard you call a father.”

  All I can do is look up at the angel. Outside of Grandfather, no one has ever protected me.

  Ezekiel extends his hand. “You have my word.”

  Accepting the gesture, I realize what I have to do. Time to get Jeremiah back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jeremiah

  Darkness and quiet surround me as I drag my feet up the stairs to Ezekiel’s shop. With each step, the will to train seeps away, but I promised him I’d do it. He seemed genuinely excited about the prospect. Going back to the apartment will only disappoint him. Something I don’t want.

  Dark Wing Ink is absent of bodies. No one’s left behind cleaning instruments. The reception desk is empty. I’ve never been here without some activity going on—a live shoot or artists at work. Even Ezekiel’s office is vacant. No overly endowed female draped over him. He did say to meet him on the roof.

  My shoes echo across the floor as I go to the staircase. Pushing open the rooftop door, the crisp wind cuts through me. I should have worn more than a pair of fucking sweats. What on earth was my brother thinking? Training on the roof only makes sense if I needed to exercise my wings. That’ll never happen again.

  No one’s up here. I call out, “Zeke, I’m here.”

  “Be there in a sec.” The disembodied voice comes out of the dark.

  I lumber over to the short wall surrounding the roof top. With a good head wind, a body would easily topple over—wings or not. Many years ago, I would have appreciated the strong gusts, allowing me to soar for hours.

  I miss my wings.

  Humans might believe wings are wholly decoration meant to help angels get from one cloud to another. Our wings are so much more. They are a vital part of us like fingers to humans. Angel wings are not inanimate objects. They feel. They breathe. And when cut…they fucking hurt.

  It took me nearly a month to recover from the loss. Walking was difficult at first. Not that I couldn’t walk. On the contrary. Each step was pure agony. There were so many stitches holding me together. Breathing, sleeping, sitting, standing… It all hurt. Through the recovery, I could still fill my wings. I constantly stared at myself in mirrors, trying to make the connection that they were gone. Forever.

  Shaking away the memories, I focus on the action down below. Cars zip by. People amble over the concrete, totally oblivious to the threats lurking in the dark. It amazes me how vampires, fallen angels, and the like can co-exist with humans. Supernaturals recognize one another, but we stay hidden from mankind. Humans enjoy watching TV programs spoofing the lives of otherworldly beings. If they only knew…

  “Zeke, can you hurry up?” I say, staring down at Broadway.

  Footsteps crunch the gravel and disturb the debris on the roof. My scalp prickles as the footfalls stop.

  “Will I do?”

  The familiar voice freezes my blood. Pain, harkening back to the night I lost my wings, funnels into my heart. What is he doing here? Pushing my shoulders back, determined not to let him think his presence bothers me, I pivot on my heel.

  “Tell my brother—”

  “He’s not telling me anything, Brother.” Ezekiel steps from behind a structure.

  I refuse to be trapped up here with a demon. No matter how attractive he is. “Then I’ll leave.”

  My brother grips my shoulder firmly. “No. You’re going to listen to Colt.”

  Glancing down at Ezekiel’s hand, I bark, “You plan on stopping me?”

  “If it comes to that.” My brother looks past me. “Go ahead, Colt. I’m not leaving.”

  Shrugging off Ezekiel’s grasp, I turn away from Colton. He, however, doesn’t give up easily. The incubus stands next to me.

  “I won’t take too much of your time,” he begins. “You need to know the real story minus my father’s exaggeration.”

  My gaze rocks to him. “I’ll listen, but it won’t change things.”

  Colton places his forearms on the short wall and leans over. “Then, I’ll keep my story brief. Before I came to New York, I spent a month in Hell. It was punishment for bad behavior.”

  The statement piques my curiosity. “What did you do?”

  “Kidnapped a female. It wasn’t my idea. My father was tormenting the shit out of my mind. He enjoys replaying your worse fears or bad experiences. For the weak, the memories drive them insane. The rest—”

  “Wish they’d lose their minds.” Colton side-glances at me. “Your father worked his magic on me. Reminded me how I lost my wings.”

  Thanks to that ass, I’m back to having nightmares. Something I haven’t had in over a thousand years.

  “I’m sorry he did that, but now you know. My weakness is solitude. It’s a constant fear that I’ll live out my days alone. Father sent his ghouls to keep me company.” Colton shudders. “It’s an existence I don’t wish on even my enemies…” His words trail off as he stares into the distance.

  “Colt?”

  “Sorry. I still get lost in the memory.” He sighs before continuing. “Father’s torture and Mother’s manipulations drove me to kidnap the djinniyah. My family glossed over the incident while her family demanded punishment. That’s how I ended up in Hell.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I’ll admit that my heart goes out to Colton, but I don’t care why he spent time in the Nether Region. His problem, not mine.

  Keep telling yourself that one.

  “I’m getting there. Remember, I’m giving you the condensed version?”
Colton shifts his posture. “Before I left, Grandfather and I talked. He knew I was unhappy, so my grandfather granted me a wish. He allowed me to be human for thirty days. During that time, I was supposed to figure out what I wanted in life. Find myself.”

  “And after thirty days?” Colton has been here almost that length of time. My chest hitches with the realization that all this will soon be over. I’ll never see him again.

  “I was supposed to return to Falls Creek, my hometown. As the Prince of Hell, I have training to do.” Colton stares down at the street, not saying a word. “Nevertheless, I’m not interested in it.”

  After a long minute, I ask, “Is that it?”

  The words come off colder than I intended them. No, I don’t want him to go back. But we can’t go forward. It’s not possible.

  According to who?

  He shakes his head slowly. “I made a deal with Grandfather. If I met certain conditions, I could remain human. The job, the apartment, making friends…”

  “And me?”

  “Yes, and you.” Colton turns to me. His dark eyes blaze with passion. “Finding love with you sealed the deal,” he says with conviction.

  My voice cracks as I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the beginning?”

  Colton turns back to the street. “How would that have gone? Hi. My name is Colton Najex. I’m in town for thirty days to find myself. Oh, by the way, I’m also an incubus masquerading as a human. Would you have accepted me?”

  Of course, I wouldn’t have, and he knows it. “But you took the choice away from me.”

  “True, and I apologize for that. But I’m not sorry for meeting you. For falling in love with you,” he admits.

  Sorry. His words change nothing. Can’t change anything. It’s an unfortunate situation, but there’s no way to fix it.

  If you wanted to repair things, you could. You have to try.

  “When do you leave?”

  Colton answers with a gruff laugh. “I’m not going back to Falls Creek. Well, not permanently. I just need to go close out my affairs. Part of my accord with Grandfather made my true nature invisible to others. He needs to lift the cloak, so to speak, and then I can say my goodbyes. Afterward, I’ll return here as a human.”

  I stare into the distance, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Saying goodbye to Colton is easier if I don’t. “Well, have a safe trip.”

  “I will. But Jeremiah?”

  The sound of my name on his lips is like a sensual whisper. How can I live each day knowing I’ll never hear it again? Choking down the unwelcome emotion, I ask, “What?”

  “We’re not done.” From the corner of my eye, I see him face me and inch forward. “I can’t erase you from my mind or heart. We will be together again. It may take a little time, but I’ll win you back. As a man, nothing else.”

  Before I can reply, Colton steps closer and cups my face in his hands. His lips brush mine, claiming me in a way words couldn’t. I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. There’s nothing innocent about his kiss. It’s as if Colton’s mouth pushes memories at me with every suck and nibble—our first kiss, the first time we made love, the first time he said he loved me. When my mind and body have been punished enough, he breaks it off.

  His breath fans my face as he whispers near my ear. “I love you, Jeremiah. That will never change.”

  Fear grips my heart while parts of my traitorous anatomy go on alert. I steel my spine and stand my ground.

  Don’t touch him.

  Don’t speak to him.

  Don’t look at him.

  Colton walks away, taking my soul with him. His footsteps, echoing across the pavement, sound like bomb blasts. My heart shatters into a million pieces.

  Why did I let him go?

  “Brother, you’re an ass.”

  I glance up at Ezekiel.

  “That incubus cares for you. His words got to me. I know they moved you.” My brother’s gaze shifts down to my crotch. “Give him a fucking break. Damn it! He’s why you lost your wings! Does that not mean anything to you?”

  “You know it does.” Swallowing hard, I lean into the wall, attempting to hide my issue. “And before you say it, we both kept secrets. I know that. But his were so much bigger.”

  “You can’t be fucking serious!” Ezekiel shouts. “Who gives a flying fuck which secret was larger? Have you forgotten the Prophecy? Have you forgotten the role you played in this? It takes two to fall in love, Brother.”

  Ezekiel doesn’t need to state the obvious. What’s the saying? Two wrongs not making a right? No truer words have been spoken?

  “Do you still want to train?” I ask, hoping the answer is no. All I want to do is go home. Wish I could get drunk and sleep for days.

  Ezekiel fixes me with a persistent glare. “Naw. I don’t train with quitters.”

  Any other time the comment wouldn’t bother me. But tonight it’s more than I can take. “I’m not a quitter, Zeke. I’m hurt.”

  “Get over yourself, Brother. The angel I know would stand up for himself. He wouldn’t cower in an apartment, hoping shit would blow over.”

  The wind whips through my hair, and I shove my hands in my hoodie pockets. “You don’t understand.”

  “I think I do. We’ve all done hard shit. It’s part of our existence. Part of mankind’s existence.”

  “Please.” Last thing I need is a sanctimonious spirit judging my actions. “Explain to me what hard shit you’ve done recently.”

  “I sent Azaria back to the Realm,” he announces and walks toward the stairwell.

  There’s only one way to send an angel back against their will. “You killed her?”

  Ezekiel says over his shoulder, “It was the only way to protect you and Colt. I promised him I’d look out for him.”

  Now, I feel like shit. No matter what my brother may have said, I know he cared about Azaria. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure you’d have done the same thing for me. Jeremiah, I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “What? Where are you going?”

  My brother stops in his tracks and turns to me. “I’m going to Falls Creek with Colt. He needs to confront his father. I won’t let him do it alone.”

  An angel standing up for a demon?

  That’s cataclysmic.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Colt

  Looking out over the landscape rolling by, it feels weird going back to Falls Creek—especially with an angel by my side. This wasn’t planned though. Ezekiel pulled up in his truck as I was leaving the bar. He insisted on taking me back home. Who am I to turn down a free ride?

  “What should I expect when we get to your town?”

  I glance over at Ezekiel. “First off, it’s not my town. Father, to most beings’ chagrin, runs the place. Humans aren’t aware of how he has his hand in every facet of their existence.”

  Ezekiel leans into the side of the cab. “Let me get this straight. Your Grandfather is the King of Hell, and your father is what The King of Falls Creek?”

  “Not exactly, but pretty fucking close. The supernatural council reports to him, and humans are easily influenced by him too. Technically, Father is next in line after Ashmedai. I’m supposed to pick up the reins after Father.”

  “What happens with this deal you made?”

  “My cousin Tiberius gets to rule.” My iniquitous kin will jump at the opportunity. He’s so twisted he might conjure up a way to get rid of Father sooner than expected.

  “Tiberius?” Ezekiel lifts an eyebrow. “Like that Roman Emperor?”

  “Yes. My family has a penchant for historical names. Tiberius’s father is Claudius, and his mother is Drusilla. Father’s name is Khan.”

  “As in Genghis?”

  “The same.”

  “So how did you get the name Colton?”

  “You’d have to speak to Mother on that. She liked the name, and Father didn’t overrule her.” Closing my eyes, I ask, “How long before we get to Falls Creek?”<
br />
  “About four hours. You can sleep if you need it. I’m good.”

  It occurs to me that I really know nothing about this being nor his brother. Instead of sleep, maybe it’s conversation I need. I also don’t know what happened to Azaria. That pops my eyes open.

  “What happened to Azaria?”