by C. G. Blaine
Copyright © 2020 by C.G. Blaine
Published by Gray Page Books LLC
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at www.cgblaine.com
Cover Designer Murphy Rae, www.murphyrae.net
Edited by Jovana Shirley of Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Proofread by Christina Hart of Savage Hart Book Services, www.savagehartbookservices.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-950847-08-2
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Playlist
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Fallen Rebel Preview
For Grandma Smitty and Henry.
Lose one; gain another.
One of the glaring misrepresentations of creation surrounds women being brought into existence. Eves weren’t some afterthought, plucked from the ribs of Adams to keep them from screwing the livestock. And yes, plurals because every remix of creation included a pair. Women were always a part of the plan, coming from the same dust, given the same flesh and free will as men. They just figured out better ways to use both.
And I, for one, am damn glad they did.
Especially when the short skirt and legs that have been keeping my attention from across the bar pass by me. I swivel my stool, and her eyes linger on mine before they dart to the hallway in the back.
It only takes a glance at Kai to know he’s not going anywhere. The blonde who dragged him over to the booth earlier has more of her ass on him than the seat. The kid might only be twenty-three, but between his constant thrill-seeking and the ability to talk the panties off anything that moves, I can say without a doubt, he’ll go down as my favorite charge.
By the time my new friend looks at me again, I’m finishing my beer and standing up to follow.
“What’s your name?” she asks, her nails digging into my scalp.
It’s the first thing she says to me after dragging me into the ladies’ room. We wasted no time in getting past the pleasantries of her tugging open the button of my jeans and me pressing her up against the tiled wall.
I chuckle at her sudden interest. “Does it matter at this point?”
She slips her fingers into the waistbands of my jeans and briefs and nudges them down. “Only if you want me to moan it.”
Holy hell, this chick. I almost stop hiking up her skirt—almost. “You can cry out whatever you want, gorgeous. Sex god or badger.”
She laughs, looping her arms around my neck as I hoist her up by the backs of the legs. They lock around my waist, her head shaking while I roll on the condom. “I’m not calling you—oh fuck.”
Her head falls back against the wall when I drive into her, but then she’s there with me again. Her heels dig into my ass, and our mouths connect, tongues colliding. She tastes like that cinnamon shit some tool sent her a shot of earlier.
With my next thrust, she moans out the sweetest sound, and curiosity wins out.
“Chaz,” I say.
She smiles against my lips, her eyes fluttering open. “I’m Nyx.”
I pull away enough to see the rest of her face. “Like the goddess.”
“Uh-huh,” she answers, her head lulling back again.
Her throat stretches out, displaying flawless skin. I kiss and lick her neck, pulling her to me while I push into her. We say very little of anything intelligible from then on. Each flex of my hips, she meets—hands, mouths, and teeth everywhere. My name is fucking magic from her mouth when her back arches off the wall. She comes apart for me, and I couldn’t hold back if I wanted to. I thrust into her a few more times and sink deep on the last one, groaning into her neck. Her skin smells fantastic, and I breathe her in for a second, earning a satisfied hum.
While I lower her feet to the floor, my lips catch hers one more time, and it occurs to me how ass-backward the entire exchange has been. Even for me, a bar bathroom without a word from a girl I don’t know is a little much. Not that I’m complaining. Fuck, after this, I might need to consider the idea more often.
Nyx straightens her skirt again before I flip the lock on the door. I flash her a grin and let her lead the way out. It gives me another view of what made me follow her in here in the first place.
She’s already past the end of the hall when Kai rounds the corner with his arm draped around the sexy blonde. I step out of the way as they pass me and glance back to catch his smirk. He pushes open the door across from the one I just exited and guides her in. At least I had the decency to screw in the ladies’, which not only smelled like fucking roses, but also looked like it’d been cleaned within the last century.
I hesitate at the end of the hallway to watch the door close behind them, still uneasy about my charge being in a public restroom. Then again, I’d worry about my sanity if I wasn’t concerned after the whole demons-tried-to-kidnap-a-Nephilim bullshit from the beginning of summer. Three months isn’t quite long enough to get over nearly losing your eternity. Give me a solid four at least.
“Hey.” Nyx reappears and tugs on my arm. “Buy me a drink?”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “After that? You should be buying me one.”
Her eyes roll, but she smiles. She really is gorgeous, raven hair and melty amber eyes, with a spark of sin radiating from her.
I already planned on buying her a beer. Call me a romantic, but I thought it would be before I was inside her. After I flag down the bartender for drinks, we head outside to the patio where a tall wooden fence blocks the street. Most of the time, my lap ends up as the chair when I bring someone back here, but she lands on the picnic bench next to me. Still not complaining. It’ll make bailing the second Kai’s ready to leave all the easier.
Only when Nyx turns to face me—batting her long lashes and denting her lower lip between her teeth—I know we won’t make it that long. Her eyes lower, and she’s going to ruin this in three … two … one…
“You want to get out of here?” She twists the neck of her beer bottle. “Or maybe you can call me sometime? We can fuck in a restaurant coatroom. Compare and contrast.” She laughs out the last few words and peeks up again.
I half-smile, really wishing she hadn’t just said any of that.
Luckily, my charge rarely takes long to seal the deal. The adrenaline starts pumping through Kai, giving me the
first hint of divine light. The slow burn unfurls in my chest before creeping down my arms. No matter how long my punishment on Earth lasts, the return of the light never disappoints.
“You don’t want me to call you,” I say, setting down my beer.
Her eyebrows pull together, and she goes back to watching her hands. “I’m pretty sure I do. I mean, you did refer to yourself as a sex god and then only made me come once, but—”
The heat hits my hands, spiking through my fingers until the tips burn. I skim them over her cool cheeks and cradle her face between my palms. The light leaves them and warms her skin beneath.
“You don’t want me to call you,” I tell her, softening my voice to barely above a whisper. “You don’t want me to take you home or walk you to your car.”
Nyx’s body relaxes as she brings her hands to hang from my wrists, melty amber eyes gazing up at me. “I don’t?”
I shake my head. “You don’t want anything from me. In fact, you’re going to go inside, buy yourself another drink, and not care if you ever see me again.”
She nods, slowly at first, but then surer of herself as the light seeps in, my words becoming a reality. When I let my hands fall away, she blinks a few times before glancing around. Her attention returns to me, and she forces a smile.
“I’m going to get another beer.” She stands and holds out a hand like she’s worried I might offer to go with her. “I’ll be back.”
The door slams behind her, and I take a swig of my drink, thankful as fuck she won’t be. Nothing against her. She was one of the more tolerable mortals. It’s just that I’m at my quota. Two Nephilim to keep alive so my soul doesn’t become a permanent fixture outside those heavenly gates. And it will take more than a set of pouty red lips and a perfect ass to distract me.
A hell of a lot more.
Even if my dick gives off the impression of being easier to sway.
Sometimes, existence stays the same for so long, I forget how fast everything can go from la-di-da to all-out fucked. Then, out of nowhere, all hell breaks loose—sometimes literally. Demons surface, my brother loses his shit. Two brothers, if you count the one ready to give up his immortality to spend eternity with his charge. And, I mean, no offense to Cassannah, but I do.
While all that crazy might have died down, I still have to deal with the lingering possibility that the one being who has a massive hard-on for killing me may or may not have the sole object in existence necessary to pull it off. Which means a constant waiting for everything to go to hell again.
I snag the amulet off the kitchen counter, tossing the chain over my head on my way out the door. I stick it down the collar of my shirt before I cross the hall and walk into what might as well be my second apartment. The new living arrangements required a serious downgrade from a badass condo to a one-bedroom with terrible plumbing. But I’ve subscribed to the policy that the closer my charges, the better.
Avery spares a flick of her gaze before returning to her book, curled up on one end of the couch in the living room. “Hey,” she says, distracted. She tugs at the blonde strands stacked on top of her head, tightening the knot, and slides the black frames up her nose. “Kai’s in the shower.”
No shit. I could hear the pipes whining from my apartment.
I plop down beside her, and she pulls her socked feet back, tucking them underneath her. I flip on the TV while she reads, the silence between us very much our norm. If Kai earns the award for being my favorite charge, his twin sister deserves accolades for being my lowest maintenance. She was eight before my powers kicked on because of a true threat of danger—a drunk driver when she was riding her bike home from the library. No hazardous habits or even fun ones, so adrenaline responses with her stay minimum. Most days.
“Has he introduced you yet?” She absentmindedly weaves the black cord of her locket through her fingers.
Kai has one too, only dangling from his are their father’s dog tags—killed by an IED when they were kids. The twins have worn their necklaces constantly over the past year. Not that they have the choice. I cast protection spells on them to ward off demon powers and other bullshit and used the light to “suggest” they leave them on permanently. It allows for a longer leash with them, and with two to juggle, every inch of breathing room helps.
I tap the end of the remote on my chin, deciding on a movie to stream. “Who am I meeting?”
Her baby blues pop up. “Whoever he’s seeing.”
The book snaps shut, and she tosses it to the floor, readjusting to sit on her knees. Boring or not, gossiping about her brother always lights a fire in her. If only she knew about half of his extracurriculars. Underground boxing rings, street racing—whatever he can find to keep the adrenaline pumping.
“He broke out the Armani cologne he bathes in whenever he has a steady fling,” she says.
The chick thing doesn’t shock me. Kai’s been lying low lately. Lots of stops at a coffee shop and an apartment complex several blocks from here. Surefire signs he’s found a new fixation.
He settles down now and then with a girl he’s ready to give the world to, then he gets bored out of his mind in about a month and triumphantly returns to a one-ride-only philosophy. But since his trip to the men’s room with the blonde a few weeks ago, most bursts of light from him come late at night when he’s alone—or when the pipes moan a warning that he’s in the shower. So, he’s not screwing whoever he’s supposedly screwing, which is surprising.
Avery checks behind me as the floorboards creak in the hallway. Kai struts out in the nicest pair of jeans he owns and a shirt he fucking stole from me. He pushes his hair back, a few shades darker than his sister’s, so it sticks up in the front. I’ll be the first to admit, my line of Nephilim has been nothing short of exceptional in the looks department.
“Get lost in my closet?” I ask as he stops at the end of the couch.
“Jealous it looks sexier on me?”
I snort, shaking my head. Kid’s cocky as shit. Another trait passed down through their line. It serves as a reminder that running through those veins is angel blood—half of it anyway, undiluted by the generations between him and my original Nephilim.
Kai shoves his phone and keys in his pocket, backing toward the door. “I’ve got to run a quick errand, but I want you here when I get back.”
I wave him off. He wants me to ask why, but as long as it isn’t anything that makes my job harder, I don’t care. He’s barely out the door when I bite back a grin, having found the perfect movie. There’s a reason I only watch TV at their apartment, and she’s sitting right next to me.
“Another horror movie?” Avery hugs a throw pillow to her chest, pouting as she sinks into the cushions beside me. “You should see a therapist or something. You get way too much pleasure out of making me squirm.”
“Squirm, scream, panic. I’d be thrilled if you developed an anxiety disorder.”
I throw her a wink, and she rolls her eyes.
We settle in for an hour and a half of jump scares. With each one, the light floods through me. I stretch out my fingers, feeling the power ready and waiting. Her heart pounds, and her palms sweat, and I’m loving every fucking second of it.
“What’s that?” Avery shoots up on the couch, looking away from the screen.
A surge of light has me scanning the shadows, but the chance of real danger lurking inside the apartment is minimal. I have this place spelled to shit against demons and even other angels—a bag of crystals that block either from entering, other than me. I stashed the blocker bag behind a vase in a kitchen cupboard Kai and Avery never use with another one hidden in an air vent as backup.
“Oh my God.” She latches on to my arm. “Did you hear that?”
I pause the movie because I did hear something. A muffled thud, thud, thud. Then comes a whiny voice in the hallway, equivalent to what I can only describe as road rash to the soul.
“Chazaqiel!”
Fucking. A.
I groan, hitting play
, and then I toss Avery the remote. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, claws still sinking in until I shake her off.
“I forgot my phone.”
And to spell the entire apartment complex.
I open the door and close it again without a sound, and then I prop against it to watch the universe’s most irritating heavenly parole officer bang on my door across the hall. Straight blonde hair hangs to her waist, the black skirt tight on her hips and curving over her ass. Lydia curses under her breath, bringing a phone to her cheek. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the vibrations from mine on the kitchen counter.
My apartment’s spelled too, stopping her from dropping in whenever she wants. Given the set of her jaw when she turns to the side, she’s not impressed with my no-uninvited-guests policy. I give her a few more seconds to hit peak annoyance and then straighten up.
“The angel you’re calling doesn’t want to deal with your shit right now.” I cross my arms when she spins. “Fuck off until next millennium at the beep.”
She scowls, lowering the phone. “You’re such a—”
“Beep,” I say, stepping around her to unlock my apartment.
She huffs in the doorway, unable to cross the threshold. “Using divinity blocking spells makes me think the three of you left are hiding something from me.”
“We are.” I grab the bag hidden in my cupboard and pick one of the crystals out to deactivate the spell. When I turn around, Lydia’s in the archway that leads to the living room. I set the bag and crystal on the counter, and on my way through, I duck down to her ear. “Our shit from you.”
“I’m sure Cass reported to you about Samyaza?”
I stop, stiffening at the name. Samy—my brother, the leader of the original Watchers. Samy, Cass, Rosdan, and I were brought into existence together. As angels, that was our beginning, but our beginning ties to the beginning. The beginning of everything. The divine light that shaped the cosmos is the same energy, the same substance used to create us. But by coming into existence together, the four of us share a deeper bond. We’re family, so when one of us goes the fuck off the rails, it’s a jagged cut—infected from the start.
