Falling Hard

by J. K. Coi

  So instead she settled into a lounge chair across the room and kept her eyes glued to the dramatic form she had come to know so well. Watching him was a pastime she excelled at. Apparently, the only thing she did well, since so far she’d failed at everything else.

  She remembered the brave child he had been. Despite what he believed, Amelia knew how hard Gabriel had tried to protect his little half-sister. She had seen the devastation on his face that fateful day when it hadn’t been enough. She also remembered a young teen’s shaggy hair, scrawny limbs and hardened brown eyes daring the world to try hurting him again.

  But those images were overlaid by others, of the man Gabriel had become. The tattoos and piercings—armor he’d donned to protect himself—and the long legs and thick arms, tight abdomen, and striking features that could be both forbidding and gentle, angry and contemplative. To her, he was not a rock star. He wasn’t a job either, not anymore. To her he was Gabriel. He was beloved.

  Protect him. Hide his existence from the others.

  She had failed in that. Now she wondered how much time they had left. The dark angel’s soul was awakening, and the lines in the sand were quickly being redrawn.

  Amelia doubted there was anything she could do to prevent what was coming now, to protect Gabriel from his destiny. It was probably the reason Cassiel and the other angels hadn’t tracked them down again, at least for the moment. They knew it, the same as she did. They waited just as she did.

  Now, Donato was another story. He wasn’t waiting, but planning. She worried about what he planned.

  Gabriel’s deep exhale was muffled in the softness of the pillow as he flopped onto his stomach. Amelia felt like smiling.

  She left the room.

  Gabriel awoke to the sound of the hotel room door closing.

  “Amelia!”

  He shot up from the bed, ready to rush out into the suite, but stopped when she appeared in the doorway, looking calm and perfect as always—except she had left off her shoes, and her little toes peeked out from beneath the overlong legs of her stonewashed jeans. As he forced his racing heart to settle down, he thought the sight of those peeking toes was about the sexiest thing ever. It made her seem infinitely softer, more accessible.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He groaned and sat on the edge of the mattress, rubbing the heavy stubble covering his cheeks and chin. He would have to call the front desk and ask them to bring him up a disposable razor. “I thought you’d left.”

  Her brow lifted. “Where would I go?”

  Where indeed? Elbows on his knees, Gabriel shook off the lingering fuzziness of sleep, letting his hands dangle between his legs. He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but it hadn’t been nearly long enough. He still felt like shit, although that could be because of the strange, dark dreams that had tormented him, leaving him with a hint of eerie, impossible portents.

  They had been so real. Dreams filled with illicit pleasure and unbelievable pain, darkness and light. Extremes of every measure. He dreamed desire. He dreamed need. He dreamed of fire and power.

  He’d also dreamed of Amelia, but a different Amelia than the woman standing before him. He saw her in the middle of a shabby-looking room, facing a doorway. Her sword—the same one she’d conjured to face off against Cassiel—was held easily in her hands as she waited patiently. Her face had been calm as always, perhaps even more so, devoid of expression even as another angel entered the room.

  The dream sequence was silent from Gabriel’s point of view, not letting him hear any of the words passing between the pair. But he doubted their words were as important as Amelia’s next move. She stepped forward, sword raised…

  …and cut the angel down, her opponent having barely lifted a finger in his own defense.

  Harsh. Cold.

  Trying to tell himself it was just a dream—not real, only a dream—hadn’t worked. Gabriel remembered Cassiel’s words, remembered that he’d called Amelia “the Avenger”, and accused her of being a killer of their own kind. Somehow, despite those peeking toes, Gabriel understood that his dream was trying to tell him something about his guardian angel.

  “What time is it?” he rasped, dragging a hand through his hair.

  “Shortly after six o’clock in the morning.” Half-turning, Amelia gestured out the door, into the living room. “I called for room service. A gentleman arrived with a tray just now.”

  “You ordered food?” Now that she mentioned it, warm breakfast smells wafted in from the sitting area.

  “You did say that you were going to want to eat something after your rest.” She frowned. “I just hope you like waffles and eggs. I got you some bacon, sausage and toast too.”

  He laughed. Did she want to have to roll him out of here? “Is that all?”

  “No. I also asked for yogurt and grapefruit, and an interesting-sounding concoction called a breakfast burrito.” She paused. “Would you rather have something else?”

  “No, I think you covered all the major food groups. Thanks, I’m sure everything will be delicious.” He stood and groaned, lifting his arms and stretching out the kinks in his shoulders and back. “Damn. I hope whoever found my bag at the airport appreciates their luck. My favorite Strokes shirt was in there.” Not to mention his cell phone. At least he’d been carrying his wallet in his jacket pocket.

  He dragged the T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the bed. “Remind me to stop and get us something else to wear before we head out again, or today’s drive is going to be that much more painful.”

  He looked up to find Amelia’s wide stare fixed on the naked expanse of his chest, and suppressed the urge to flex his pecs just to see how much bigger and rounder her eyes could get.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower before eating.” He closed the distance between them, feeling like a predatory cat as he leaned over her body in the doorway. She slowly dragged her gaze up to meet his. “Do you want to join me?”

  She shook her head, but the blue of her eyes had deepened to a smoky midnight that betrayed her feelings.

  “It’s getting harder, isn’t it Amelia?”

  “What is?” Her voice was a low whisper and her mouth parted, tempting him to swoop in and taste.

  “To pretend you don’t feel it. The same thing I feel.” She swallowed but didn’t retreat from him, not even when he took her hand and pressed her cool palm over the warmth of his naked chest so she could feel the quickened rhythm of his heart. His little guardian angel was a brave one. Damn stubborn and contrary. But brave too. “It’s getting harder for you to keep denying the spark between us.”

  Amelia paused. “Perhaps,” she conceded slowly, lifting her chin, eyes glittering with what he could only hope was an urgent craving equal to his own. “But I feel confident that I shall persevere.”

  “I’ve always loved a challenge, baby, and you should know…” grinning, he leaned closer and whispered, “…I never lose.”

  Gabriel was glad to be rid of the tiny Toyota. The clerk at the desk had tried to tell him they couldn’t get him anything better than a minivan, but Gabriel had told her to do better, and—surprisingly enough—she immediately offered him the use of a Navigator.

  He and Amelia waited outside the hotel for the car to be brought round, Gabriel grinding his teeth again as men eyed her up and down. One particularly courageous idiot actually approached and reached for her arm, daring to open his mouth and speak to her.

  Gabriel put his body between them. “This isn’t a goddamn pickup joint, you moron.” The anger burgeoning from his gut was disproportional to the situation, but he didn’t seem to care. “The woman’s not looking to get hit on in the parking lot. And if you hadn’t noticed, she’s not alone. What the fuck, asshole. Are you blind?”

  The man jerked his arm back and his head up. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, a white film covered his pupils. He stood blinking at them for a long moment before panic bloomed in his expression. “What the hell just happen
ed? I can’t…I can’t see!”

  Amelia pushed Gabriel back, gasping, “Gabriel, stop.”

  Stop what? “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything to him,” he said, but his heart was beating crazily, and somehow he knew she was right. He was to blame.

  Stepping forward, Amelia looked into the man’s face and took his hand. She opened her mouth and sang a few soft notes that Gabriel recognized as her magical angel song.

  The stranger calmed down almost immediately, his face going slack as he closed his eyes. When he opened them this time, his pupils were clear once again. Amelia’s haunting voice trailed off slowly and she stopped singing. The man turned and walked away from them without another word.

  “Jesus.” He swallowed. “What the hell was that?”

  Amelia just shook her head, looking as disturbed as he felt.

  “Amelia?”

  “Not here, Gabriel.” A large black SUV pulled up in front of them. She walked to the passenger’s side door. “Not now. Okay? Let’s just get moving.”

  Gabriel knew she was right but two hours later, he was still freaked out.

  Amelia examined all the buttons in the impressive-looking dashboard, jerking her fingers back when the air conditioning started to blow hard through the vents. She punched three or four different buttons, trying to find the one that would turn it back off. “Are you certain we needed such a…big vehicle?”

  “Oh wow, coming from someone who isn’t even human, that is such a female thing to say.” He couldn’t hold back his grin, reaching over her to turn on the stereo. “Of course we needed it. It was the best they had, and it actually has a pretty good sound system.”

  Leaning back into her seat, Amelia looked out the window. Gabriel wondered what she thought of the things she’d seen. How did the flashy technology of the big cities and the simpler beauty of earth’s remaining natural marvels compare to her angel realms?

  Did she want to go back? He supposed she must, especially if staying here with him was slowly killing her. “What are you thinking about?”

  She turned to face him, her lips curving upward in a soft smile that tugged at his heart. She wasn’t trying so hard anymore to hide the fact that she continued to feel something. Except now that he understood what was going on, Gabriel wasn’t sure he knew what to do with an angel who looked at him with that spunky light in her eyes.

  “I was wondering how I let you talk me into getting these new clothes.”

  Looking at her, Gabriel questioned the wisdom of his choices, too, especially when it had already been difficult enough to concentrate on anything else while Amelia was within touching distance. The clothes he’d bought for her weren’t that different from the generic brands she’d been wearing all last week, except they were three times the price and fit three times as snugly on her curvy frame.

  The outfit was simple enough, or so he’d thought when he picked it out. A pair of Diesel jeans paired with a pretty white sweater. Except the jeans rode low on her hips and hugged her tight ass, and the sweater was a wide, cowl-necked thing that dipped over one shoulder and showed off the thin strap of the lace bra he’d also bought her—part of a sexy set that included a tiny matching lace thong.

  What the hell had he been thinking?

  He cleared his throat and turned back to the road. “You look great.”

  They were both silent for a long while after that. Gabriel listened to music, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat and sometimes singing along. Whenever he did, he felt Amelia’s eyes fall on him. He felt the way her body strained toward him.

  He’d always known his voice held a kind of power, that it could be…persuasive. He’d worked all his life to harness that and use it to his advantage—although he’d never turned anyone blind before. It normally meant he got a better deal from his record label and sold out his concert venues, or scored with the stacked chick who’d already turned down every other guy in the bar.

  Amelia’s reaction to his voice was different. She paid such close attention, as if…as if his voice were the very breath of life.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked, breaking off midsong. “What are you listening for when I sing?”

  Obviously startled, she bit her lip. As if considering how much to say.

  “Come on, angel face. I thought we’d moved beyond these kinds of games. You promised there’d be truth between us.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” She nodded. “But I think you already know the answer to your question.”

  His chest tightened and he held his breath. After this morning, yes, he had his suspicions, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her confirm it out loud. “Say it,” he said.

  “Although you are most undoubtedly a man. A human man…” Her voice softened, her gaze lingering on his lips and dipping lower, to the hands he tightened on the steering wheel. “You have an angel’s soul, Gabriel, and the power of that soul comes out in your voice.”

  The soul of Lucifer.

  Frowning, he still couldn’t wrap his head around these claims of hers. He knew she believed this crap, but he wasn’t Lucifer. Couldn’t be. He was just Gabriel, there wasn’t anyone else inside his body but him. No one getting ready to take over. No angel who wanted to destroy all of humankind. “If that’s the case—which I still don’t accept, by the way—then why wasn’t I able to heal you when you were sick?”

  She shook her head. “No, you couldn’t have. Your voice wasn’t strong enough.”

  “What about now? Something’s changed, I can feel it. What’s happening to me?”

  “Your power is growing, but it’s unfocused, untrained—and that’s part of what makes it dangerous.”

  Dangerous enough to turn a man blind with a word?

  “And you’re still only human,” she added quickly.

  Only human.

  “Don’t make it sound like a weakness,” he sneered. “I’ll take humanity over your passionless angel existence any day.”

  “Good,” she said. “You’re absolutely right. It’s precious, Gabriel. Hold onto it. Fight.” Her gaze locked to his, for once holding back nothing. The fear and naked desolation in her eyes was plain. “Fight for your humanity.”

  Gabriel had never been so scared in his life.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Jesus Christ, Gabe. Everyone’s been trying to get a hold of you. Where’ve you been? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Hey, Sammy. Nice to see you too. You want to let us in out of the rain?”

  Gabriel took Amelia’s hand and waited, aware that he was holding onto her too tightly but unable to loosen his grip. For some reason, he could let her see his nervousness but didn’t want anyone else to know how deep it went.

  What if he was no longer welcome in this house? His best friend’s house?

  “Yeah, of course. Get in here, you two.” Sam stepped aside and let Gabriel and Amelia pass. Before closing the door behind them, he glanced outside. “Since when are you driving a fucking Lincoln? And what happened to the flight from San Fran? The message you left on my cell Thursday said you were going to be flying in. When you didn’t show up Friday night I started calling around and no one had heard shit from you. How come you aren’t answering your damn phone?”

  Gabriel let go of Amelia’s hand and shook the water from his jacket. He combed his damp hair back from his forehead. “Sorry, there was a last minute change of plans. Amelia and I decided to drive, so we rented a car. My bag got snatched just before we left San Francisco. Cell phone was inside. I meant to call from the hotel room last night, but…” He shrugged and looked at Amelia before squaring his shoulders and staring past his friend down the empty hallway of David’s home. “Anyway, we’re here. Where’s Lila?”

  Sam paused. “Listen, she doesn’t blame anybody for what happened, Gabe.”

  Gabriel’s chest tightened. “Oh yeah? Then where is she, Sammy? I may be a little late, but she knew I was coming, and considering she just lost her husband, I doubt a
shopping trip was high on her list of priorities.”

  “Christ, will you listen to yourself?” Sam flung his arm out as his temper crested. “You said it, Lila just lost her husband. Her son just lost his father. Give the self-loathing guilt-trip thing a break. None of this is about you.”

  Fuck, Sam was right. And so wrong.

  Amelia stepped between them, facing Gabriel, her blue eyes pleading for peace. “Fighting with your friend isn’t going to relieve your pain,” she whispered. “It will only make things worse for both of you.”

  Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. Damn her. How did an angel who supposedly didn’t feel anything manage to give him exactly the kind of emotional support he needed? How could she possibly know what he was feeling?

  Slipping her hand back into his, Amelia turned to Sam. “Will you show us to a room where we can rest until Mrs. O’Malley returns? The drive was difficult today, due to the rain.”

  Sam gave their clasped hands a long look before he nodded. “Sure thing. By the way, it’s nice to see you again, Amelia. I’m glad you came, although I assume this means you’re still on the clock? I was here when the police contacted Lila a couple of days ago. They didn’t have any new information, but we were kind of hoping you guys would be able to tell us a little bit more.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Sorry, Sammy. There isn’t much I can say.” It might not be entirely true, but the actual truth would be a harder pill for everyone to swallow. How was he supposed to explain to his friends what had been going on? “But Amelia isn’t my bodyguard anymore. She’s here as…a friend.” Also not exactly true, but what the hell. Why not add lying to his friends to the list of bullshit he was perpetuating these days.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Sam hesitated. “I don’t mean to be indelicate here or anything, but—”

  “Just one room.” He felt certain Amelia would agree, and while it wasn’t his intention to jump on her the moment they were alone, he needed to keep her close. Wanted to be holding her in his arms tonight. And he wasn’t going to examine the reasons why.