All That Falls

by Kimberly Frost

  Griffin—

  His face wasn’t in the frame, but it was him. Her mind reeled.

  “What the fuck?” she said as the blood drained from her head. Feeling Lysander’s hands on her shoulders, she clutched the picture tighter, staring at the image, trying to get her head around it.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “What the hell is she doing with this? Who took it?” Cerise pulled so hard the corner tore off. She looked around wildly, then at Lysander. “This is Griffin. Why would Ileana have had this? Where would she have gotten it?” She lurched to her feet and marched to her phone, then remembered that there was no way to reach Ileana. “I don’t understand,” Cerise barked, staring down at the picture. “Ileana barely knew Griffin. They’d met a few times. His apartment was in her building, sure, but these aren’t our sheets…It’s not our place.” She raised the photo. “Cream-colored carpet with the purple swirl pattern. It’s the carpet in Ileana’s house?”

  She thrust the picture at Lysander. He glanced down at it, frowned, then looked back at her. She snatched the picture and examined it again.

  “It appears to be. Yes,” he said.

  “There was no graffiti in the master bedroom, but maybe she painted over it or maybe this is a guest room.” Cerise’s head jerked from side to side. “What the hell?” she said, her voice ragged and harsh. “I don’t believe it. I would’ve thought a groupie maybe, when the Times were on tour and I wasn’t with them, or some indie rock musician or that waif tattoo artist in San Francisco. But Ileana? No way. She was the farthest thing from Griffin’s type possible.”

  Lysander’s dubious expression made her furious.

  “What? What do you have to say?” she demanded.

  “Nothing if you want me to be silent.”

  “No, tell me. What?” she said.

  “You’re a muse. You were his type. She’s a muse,” Lysander said.

  She clenched her fists. “I can’t believe them. Either of them.”

  “Just because she had a nude photo of him doesn’t mean they had an affair. Are you certain it’s him?”

  “It’s him, damn it. His body. His tattoo. The Ramones T-shirt I bought! He wore that T-shirt for a fuck date with another woman,” she said with a churning stomach. “You know I wasn’t the one who wanted an exclusive relationship. It was his idea! He pushed and pushed for us—” She shook her head violently. “What the hell?”

  “It’s as I said,” Lysander said, folding his arms across his chest. “He wasn’t worthy of you.”

  She crumpled the photograph and flung it to the floor.

  Lysander looked away with a strange expression passing over his face. Her muscles tightened.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “I’d rather not confess it.”

  She caught his chin and turned his face toward her.

  “This,” she said, moving her hand to indicate the two of them, “is still new. Don’t hold back. I feel like that picture of Griffin turned my whole world upside down. He and Ileana lied to me and kept me in the dark. They were screwing each other behind my back, and it makes me feel like a fool. I couldn’t take it if you started keeping secrets. The way you confide in me is what makes me trust you.”

  He ran a hand through his shorn locks. “The explanation wouldn’t help. It wasn’t a thought worthy of an angel, fallen or not.”

  “I’d imagine that not every thought you have is. Tell me anyway.”

  He shrugged in surrender. “You and I together, we’re the right fit.” He pressed his palms together, each finger the perfect mirror of its fellow. “If we’d met earlier, Griffin Lane would have been in my spot. At moments, his memory still is. I’m sorry that seeing the picture hurt you, but—in truth, I’m also not sorry you found it.”

  She arched a brow, exhaling through pursed lips.

  “If I’m being brutally honest I’m not sorry he’s dead and gone. You’re mine now, and I want you to myself.” He shook his head. “I know how dangerous jealousy can be, but in the end, I want you to love only me.”

  A wave of hot emotion crashed over her, and she found it satisfying. Jealousy might not be worthy of an angel or a muse, but the passion that inspired it was hard to resist. She licked her lips, staring at Lysander’s gorgeous face, and let herself feel possessive of him.

  Archangels are part of heaven’s forbidden fruit, and no woman alive gets to taste this one but me. If Griffin did screw Ileana, to hell with him.

  “If you ever cheat on me while we’re together, I’ll kill you.”

  He smiled. “I’ll never cheat on you. It’s not in me to do it.”

  “No?”

  “Loyalty comes as naturally to me as athleticism—or pride,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “I’ll never give you cause to doubt my fidelity.”

  The steadiness of his gaze, unflinching and open, eased something inside her. She wouldn’t have thought anyone could calm her at such a moment, but Lysander could be—and was—larger than life.

  The tension in her muscles loosened, and she appraised him with mock cool. “Despite your fallen status, if you continue to play your cards right, you may get your wish and turn out to be the only man I love,” she said.

  The corner of his mouth turned up, and he inclined his head. “I accept your challenge. I’m a great card player,” he said slowly.

  She clasped her hands together. She wasn’t really in the mood for banter. She wanted to smash something, to sprint full-out across the world, pounding the ground into submission, or to work off her anger some other way…but she made herself play, to prove to herself how little Griffin’s betrayal meant.

  “A great card player? That’s not what Richard North says.”

  Lysander rolled his eyes. “Richard cheats at cards, and Merrick lets him.”

  That truly made her smile. “Richard doesn’t have a particularly firm grasp on reality, and he’s Merrick’s new father-in-law. It’s cool of Merrick to let him win.”

  Lysander shook his head with a frown. “I don’t object to Richard taking my money, though I can’t see why he needs it when Merrick and Alissa provide everything for his care and comfort. I object to my other losses.”

  “Other losses?”

  “Have you heard of something called ‘bragging rights’?”

  She laughed, almost surprised at the sound. “Once or twice.”

  He tapped his thigh. “My competitive nature can’t abide losing and then being ribbed about it.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. Lysander’s mouth opened against hers, taking as he gave.

  A little bit of heaven to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth.

  Cerise leaned back and licked her lips. “We could go back to bed for a while. I’m going to want to talk to Hayden as soon as he gets here. Until then we could rest…or do other things. Have a preference?” she asked.

  “A very strong preference,” he said and kissed her again, grabbing her around the waist and propelling them both back onto the mattress.

  “Okay then. Make me forget him,” she whispered.

  He smiled, eyes dark and calculating. “For certain.”

  Things were slow and sweet, like drizzling syrup. They savored each other until finally, in a heap of dampened sheets, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Lysander had turned the heat up high and covered them with blankets so that Cerise wouldn’t be chilled by his body being pressed to hers. Unlike when she’d slept against him before, this time she woke feeling refreshed.

  She opened her eyes to study his handsome face. His lips were slightly parted, his breath sweet and cool against her forehead. She turned her head and through the window she saw late-day sun.

  “Oh,” she murmured, raising her head and shoulder to see the clock. Five thirty in the afternoon. “Hell.”

  “What about it?” Lysander murmured, pressing his face against her breast. His lips closed over her
skin in a lingering and sleepy way.

  “We slept all day.”

  He licked her with the flat of his tongue, like a cat trying to capture a drop of cream.

  “Lysander,” she said, catching his hair in her hand and holding his head still while she leaned away from his questing mouth.

  His lids rose a fraction of an inch. “I can still reach,” he said, and his tongue snaked out to lave her nipple. It sent a thrill through her that raised gooseflesh, but it was obvious that one of them was going to have to stay strong.

  Her fingers twisted in his hair and gave it a hard tug. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

  “True enough. And just because you pull my hair doesn’t mean you want me to stop.”

  “True enough,” she echoed with a small smile. “I actually want you to keep going, but I’m telling you not to.”

  Relenting, his head fell back onto the pillow. She studied his mouth, wanting to plant a kiss on it, but that would be begging for trouble. Instead she smoothed down his hair and rose from the bed.

  She marched into the bathroom and took a hot shower. Thoughts of the night’s revelations made her furious at Griffin again. Lysander had been an excellent distraction, but even he wasn’t enough to overshadow that damned nude photo forever. Did she care anymore where Ileana was or what was happening to her? No.

  The Rellas hadn’t been her friends. They were treacherous liars. Let Etherlin Security hunt for Ileana; Cerise was done with that part of things.

  When she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, she was surprised to find Merrick and Alissa in the apartment.

  With a casual wave of his hand, Lysander said, “Merrick and Alissa came to speak with us.”

  “So I see,” she said.

  “Oh, Lysander,” Alissa said with a soft laugh. “When I said you should let her know we were here, I meant you should let her know before she came out of the bathroom from her shower.”

  “Why?” Lysander said.

  To Cerise, Alissa said, “I’m sorry.” Alissa hurried to a closet and retrieved a bathrobe.

  Lysander glanced at the robe disdainfully. “The human obsession with nudity is wasted energy. And Cerise is the last person who needs to cover her body. It’s superb.”

  When Cerise had the robe around her and fastened, she pulled the towel out from underneath it, wadded it up and flung it at him. He caught it and set it next to him on the edge of the bed.

  “I see you’re dressed,” Cerise said dryly, glancing pointedly at his jeans.

  “Merrick insisted,” Lysander said with a shrug. “He left Alissa standing in the hall while I put these on.”

  “It’s a social convention. It costs you nothing to conform and would make us uncomfortable if you didn’t. Why resist?” Cerise asked.

  “On principle.”

  “You’d get further having this argument with a rock. He’s immoveable on the subject,” Merrick said. “And on plenty of others.”

  Lysander nodded. “Would you paint over Cabanel’s Venus to cover her nakedness? Do you wrap sheets in toga fashion around the sculptures in your rooftop garden?”

  Merrick rolled his eyes.

  “Of course you don’t,” Lysander continued. “The form and function of human bodies is a work of genius, of unparalleled artistry. And no demon plot will ever rob me of that per-spective.”

  “You can be philosophically opposed all you want as long as you keep your clothes on,” Cerise said. “While we’re involved, I’m the only woman who gets to see you naked.”

  Lysander cocked his head, his gaze going to the crumpled photo. “Nakedness implies intimacy, so it’s cause for jealousy?”

  Cerise nodded.

  “Then I’ll follow convention if you want me to.”

  Merrick raised his brows in surprise, and then looked at Cerise. “That’s some trick. You’re welcome to stick around.”

  Lysander rolled his eyes. “You, on the other hand, can return to your apartment with Alissa whenever you want, Merrick.”

  Merrick smiled at the invitation to leave. “Is ‘make love not war’ your new motto, Romeo?”

  Lysander ran a hand through his hair. “If battle is imminent, I’m ready. Until it’s imminent though, I prefer her company to yours.”

  “Can’t blame you for that,” Merrick said.

  Cerise cleared her throat, seeing she would have to get them back on task. “So what brought you guys down here, Merrick?”

  “Hayden Lane slipped through Ox’s fingers. From what I can piece together, Tamberi Jacobi told Hayden and Jersey that Griffin died owing her money. When Hayden went to settle accounts, Tamberi decided she’d rather have his blood than his money. Or, knowing her, both his blood and his money. Hayden managed to escape, but after a transfusion at the local urgent care, he seems to have decided to take his blood back from Tamberi using the age-old method. He’s gonna watch it drain out through a lot of lead-lined holes.”

  “Oh no.” Cerise scowled. “Hayden’s no match for Tamberi Jacobi. The second she sees him approach, she’ll know he’s come for revenge. He’ll never get close enough to shoot her before she kills him.”

  “He’s had no weapons training?”

  “No,” Cerise said.

  Merrick’s grim expression spoke volumes.

  “I need to find him before he tries to confront her,” Cerise said.

  Lysander rose to join her.

  “Merrick, any idea where we can find her? Or where we’ll find Hayden?” Cerise asked.

  “Tamberi’s a frequent fixture at Di Vetro. It’s a club,” he added. “No guarantee that she’ll be there tonight though, unless we bait the trap.”

  “What do you suggest?” Lysander asked.

  “That I come along and invite her to meet me for a drink so she and I can settle our differences.”

  “I know she wants to kill you, but she’ll have to suspect that the invitation is a trap,” Lysander said.

  “If I make the meeting request public enough, she won’t be able to ignore it without losing face. She’ll come.”

  “That works,” Cerise said.

  “I take it that you don’t want me to join you?” Alissa asked.

  Merrick shook his head. “You killed Cato. There’s no one on earth Tamberi wants dead more than you. Not even me.”

  “I bet you never expected to find my name above yours on a Wanted poster,” Alissa said.

  Cerise couldn’t help but smile. Merrick loomed dark and dangerous over his pale wisp of a wife, but there was a glint in Alissa’s eyes that said she shouldn’t be underestimated.

  “Actually, I wouldn’t say that,” Merrick returned. “You’ve always been on the top of my Most Wanted list.”

  The edges of Alissa’s mouth curved up. “Sometimes it’s nice to be popular. As for Tamberi Jacobi…” Alissa tilted her head and continued in a deceptively mild tone. “She’s a danger to the world. If she misses her brother so much, she should join him.”

  Cerise raised her brows. Yeah, let’s not underestimate Alissa.

  Alissa laid a hand on Merrick’s arm and squeezed. “But no matter how Tamberi Jacobi ends the night, I expect you to come home in one piece. Do that, Merrick.” Cerise felt Alissa’s power pulse through the room, the scent of amber and vanilla wafting on the air. Merrick licked his lips like he’d like to take a bite out of his wife. Cerise wondered if Alissa shared her blood with him. If she did, it certainly wasn’t leaving her weakened. To Cerise, Alissa had never seemed more powerful.

  “I’ll work on things from here,” Alissa added.

  “What things?” Cerise asked.

  “I need to set the record straight for the EC on a couple of matters,” Alissa said, trailing a finger absently over Merrick’s arm. After a moment, she stepped away from him.

  Setting the record straight. That was something Cerise needed to do in her own head. She thought of Griffin’s songbook and the need to retrieve it from Lysander’s house. Turning to him,
she asked, “How are your wings healing?”

  “Well,” he said. He moved his back experimentally. “I think only another few hours to go. It’s hard for me to exactly determine, but the pain of healing is much less than before.”

  “You’re in pain now?” she asked. “You don’t show it.”

  “You expect me to whimper and complain?” He smiled and shook his head. “I’m grateful for the pain of healing. Much better than the alternative.”

  She nodded. “And I suppose archangels aren’t allowed to whimper?”

  “There’s no law against it,” he said, “but you’re right, it wouldn’t suit us.”

  “Unfortunately, keeping silent about the pain means that you’ll miss out on the comfort someone might offer,” Alissa pointed out.

  “In certain company,” Lysander said, glancing at Cerise, “that would be a shame.”

  “We’re quite the cozy foursome these days,” Cerise said dryly.

  “Yes. I’d be happy if that went on forever,” Alissa said.

  Cerise glanced at Lysander, who said nothing. That gave Cerise a pang. He didn’t want it to go on. He still wanted to leave them behind. She frowned, unable to keep shards of ice from forming around her heart.

  “Dimitri’s been trying to contact us,” Alissa said. “I’m going to talk to him about Troy. For the sake of everyone involved, the council needs to be aware that there was more to Troy than he let the EC see.”

  “Good luck convincing them of that.”

  Alissa smiled a distant smile, glacial in its resolve. “In this case, I don’t need luck. I kept proof.”

  Chapter 22

  From the outside, the massive multistory club Di Vetro looked like a haunted mansion. Inside, the swirled glass accents gave the club a surreal feel, as though you were sitting in the middle of a coral reef at the bottom of the ocean.