Fallen Read online

  Oh, yes, he’d find the redhead later.

  “Whiskey?” the bartender prompted, recognizing Cooper from the last three nights.

  “Three shots,” he said. “Line ’em up.”

  When he found a place he liked he returned. But most important, Cooper didn’t feel compelled to be in this particular city. That was a key point. Because the one annoying aspect about the Fallen was that once their feet had touched earth, they were compelled to find their muse.

  A muse was a human female, descended from the Merovingian bloodline, whom the Fallen one sought to mate with to then produce a nephilim child, a hideous monster, that once unleashed, would spread chaos across the earth.

  Cooper wasn’t into chaos or becoming some baby’s daddy right now. He just wanted to enjoy this exciting and intriguing realm.

  How he’d come to earth from his imprisonment in the Ninth Void he had no clue. Someone had summoned him from his many millennia of seclusion.

  He appreciated the summons. But he knew only danger waited for him.

  Millennia ago, he had agreed to a pact, along with dozens more angels, to fall to earth and mate with its human females. After unfathomable time serving Puriel, the war master of the Power ranks, Cooper had been so ready to fall. Actually, it had been the angel Kadesch who had opened his eyes to humanity.

  Juphiel (his angelic name, which he had no intention of using on earth) had fallen from the heavens, but had never seen Kadesch again. He’d only begun to teach mortals on earth his craft—a manner of creating beauty that Cooper still retained, thank the heavens—a short time before a great flood had swept him to the Ninth Void, a silent, cold prison where he’d existed in utter darkness awaiting final judgment for betraying Him.

  “No more imprisonment or warring,” he said with a tilt of the shot glass. The whiskey burned down his throat. “I’ll never go back.” He slammed the glass on the bar and gripped the next shot glass. “All I have to do is find my halo and I’ll be home free.”

  During an angel’s fall to earth, their halo fell away. Cooper knew if he could find the thing, he could cease this ridiculous quest he’d originally agreed to—a quest to find a muse.

  So not going to happen. Because it had all been a lie.

  And if what he’d learned the first time he’d walked earth were true, what usually happened to a Fallen immediately following mating with a muse was death. Death delivered by the one creature forged specifically to track the Fallen and slay them—the Sinistari demon.

  He’d encountered a Sinistari since arriving on earth. The demons were a difficult kill, but not impossible. Now, Cooper kept one eye over his shoulder.

  He would not go out without a fight.

  “Not on my watch,” Cooper said, and tilted back the second round.

  He growled with satisfaction at the drink’s toffee-malt bite, and eyed the back of the bar where the pool tables queued along the wall. He was familiar with the rules and techniques, but hadn’t attempted the game. He’d win. No sense in trying when he knew the outcome.

  Just as he reached for the third shot a feminine hand grabbed the glass and tipped it back in a quick swallow. “Another!” she called, and the bartender appeared with the whiskey bottle. “Man, that stuff is good.”

  It was the redhead who wore men’s clothing. She slapped the bar in thanks as the bartender topped off her shot, then tilted it back with more gusto than Cooper had performed.

  She winked at him, then sauntered off into the crowd.

  Crossing his arms and leaning against the bar, Cooper followed the sexy siren’s journey through the crush of dancing bodies. She stood as tall as him so it was easy to spot her in the crowd. She carried her head high and segued into a group that matched the music’s rhythm.

  She caught him staring and blew him a kiss, her red lips puckering sexily.

  Man, did he love the women.

  The guy with the mousse-slicked white hair and silver hoop earrings was definitely not human. Vampire, Pyx decided, and in confirmation, he flashed fang when he leaned in to whisper into a mortal woman’s ear.

  While mortals did not believe in those creatures they labeled paranormal, Pyx wasn’t so stupid. If angels and demons trod the earth then so did all the rest of the monsters and freaks.

  Her job was to ensure a nephilim did not join the freak ranks.

  “Let the games begin.”

  It was dark in the bar, save for the frenetic lights flashing violet and red and bouncing off the corrugated steel walls. The atmosphere was disturbing. Frantic, alive and vital. After so much time spent Beneath she craved the activity. Adrenaline coursed through her system. Yet she needed to focus. And wonder upon wonders, the first nightclub she’d chosen had turned up the Fallen she was after. Go, Sinistari!

  The Fallen had not said anything to her when she’d stolen his drink. She wasn’t sure how to take that. Not defending his property? A wimp? Or a gentleman who would allow a woman to do as she desired?

  Either way, for some reason, said task had suddenly taken on new weight as she watched the pale-haired vampire eye another vamp across the room. That dude wasn’t here for kicks; he was following someone. She knew it because she was doing the same thing.

  “Vampires,” she muttered. “I so don’t need this trouble.”

  Pyx slapped a palm across the leather sheath she wore strapped under her left arm. The Sinistari had the ability to allow mortals to only see what they wanted them to see; the sheathed dagger was only for her eyes.

  And yet her eyes didn’t stray from her two new marks. The bloodsuckers sent some kind of silent signal back and forth through the nightclub. The one farthest away in the balcony had his eye on a man at the rear of the room—the Fallen one. There were so many supernatural vibrations—vampire to vamp, angel to demon—Pyx had a hard time keeping them straight.

  So she turned her focus to the prize. The Fallen wore a green-and-blue plaid kilt, of all things, and was currently advertising virility and sex appeal to the woman who slobbered over him. His dark hair was razored short and finger-combed. A white shirt fell open to reveal muscled abs and chest with a tease of dark hair. His legs were striking only because Pyx had never seen a man in a skirt wearing combat boots, and working the look so freaking well.

  Seriously? She loved the diverse range of clothing in this day and age, but even she knew the man had daring.

  Pyx could understand the attraction the other women were feeling. It was a new feeling, but a good one that centered in her belly and stirred even lower.

  Hmm, all that just from observing the Fallen? A bit unsettling, but she marked it off as part of the job.

  Even though she hadn’t had the opportunity to dabble in it yet, lust was one of her favorite sins. Sin fed her kind.

  She wasn’t about to starve herself.

  Pyx kept one eye on the vampires and another on the angel.

  “Lucky bastard got himself a nice mortal costume,” she said. Her cowboy boots clomped along the narrow aisle between tables and bar. “Let’s see how much he likes mine.”

  Cooper turned toward the redhead, startled he hadn’t noticed her approach. It was the chick from the dance floor. The same chick who’d boldly tossed back his shots and had sauntered away without so much as a thank-you.

  But she had blown that kiss, which meant she was interested. His charms would prove irresistible to her once he kissed her for real. And she was walking toward him all intent and licking her lips—

  Cooper’s Adam’s apple compressed against his spine. His shoulders slammed against the wall.

  The redhead’s fingers squeezed about his throat. Cooper gagged. His feet left the floor. She was so strong!

  “How’s tricks?” she asked. Her eyelashes were so long they tangled in stray strands of her hair. She smiled, not nicely, and in fact, rather wickedly.

  Cooper couldn’t answer, or slip from her grip. What in Beneath? Were they making the pretty ones so strong now?

  Jamming her knee i
nto his bollocks, she managed to unleash an inner rage he’d thought long harnessed after his war days Above. He shoved her away and wrangled her arm, twisting it behind her back and slamming her chest against the wall.

  “What kind of game are you playing, sweetie?” he hissed at her ear. “You shouldn’t damage the merchandise. Won’t make tricks any fun later on.”

  She chuckled and elbowed him. He took the surprise poke to his abdomen with a gasped “Buh.”

  Much as he enjoyed females, he wasn’t about to let one treat him this way. Not in front of the other women.

  He managed to shove her into a nearby booth and she landed on the padded black vinyl, but not without pulling him onto the seat behind her.

  Cooper eyed the bar. If anyone saw him wrestling with this woman, they’d suspect it was all his to-do, and not the sweet woman’s fault.

  Sweet, his ass. She didn’t look capable of the wrestling feat she’d just performed. Too sexy. Too soft. Hair he’d like to tangle his fingers into. And did she smell like bubble gum? But for the strange masculine clothing she was a walking advertisement for all the sensual delights.

  “You like it rough?” he said, sliding up to her and grabbing her wrist before she could slap him. “If so, you may be able to talk me into some rough stuff. But you gotta keep your knees from my crotch, sweetheart. That’s foul play.”

  “I don’t want to have sex with you,” she said.

  Cooper felt the sharp sting of a blade against his throat. Another new touch sensation. He cautioned himself from swallowing. “Whoa.” Not only was she tough, she was also fast.

  This was his first taste of crazy since landing on earth. Interesting, yet annoying.

  He wasn’t sure how much of a loose cannon this one was, and what her intentions were, so he placed his hands flat on the table to show compliance.

  “I want to slay you,” she said. Again she granted him that wide, not-so-mirthful grin. “Where’s your muse, Fallen one?”

  How could she possibly know what he was? Unless…

  She couldn’t be. He couldn’t get a good look at the blade. He’d seen a dagger forged to kill Fallen once before—about five seconds before he had reached inside the Sinistari’s chest and ripped out its adamant heart. But this wasn’t right. He’d thought the Sinistari were male.

  “You got it,” she answered his thoughts. “I’m your worst nightmare in the one form I bet you absolutely crave, eh? A pretty redhead with nice breasts?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetie.” He thought to wrangle the blade from her, but knew it could be his death. “Sinistari?”

  “Surprise,” she singsonged. “You were expecting someone a bit more macho?”

  “Oh, I think you’ve mastered macho.”

  And he had only to stab his fingers between her ribs and rip out the hard, metal heart that, like his, never beat.

  He couldn’t take her out in the club. Everyone would notice. And he guessed she’d put up a splendid fight.

  “Could you put the blade away?” he asked calmly. “One thing I do know is that thing only works on me when I’m in half form.”

  More specifically, when he was half human, half angel, and attempting to have sex with his mortal muse. Like that was ever going to happen.

  “Sorry to break this to you, Red, but I’m not going to give you what you want.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  “We just met, sweetheart. And frankly, you don’t know anything about me and what I want on this earth. And how are you a female?”

  She kicked back in the booth and put up one snakeskin-booted foot on the table. If she weren’t Sinistari, Cooper would find her attractive. Hell, he’d already been thinking about what he would do if she were naked and was allowed to unleash his arsenal of kisses upon her.

  But not a Sinistari demon. No way in Beneath or Above. The Sinistari’s only task was to slay the Fallen. That meant him.

  The pretty redhead with the bubble-gum smile and savory scent was the last female walking this earth Cooper wanted to touch, unless it was to rip out her heart.

  And yet, one always kept their enemies close if one wished to draw breath the following morning.

  “This is the way I was forged,” she offered, her elbow hooking over the back of the booth. She chewed the gum and snapped it loudly. “You don’t like it? Tough. Now, I don’t want to spoil your fun, and I am disappointed you’re not sexing up your muse right now, but tell me why vampires are following you.”

  “Vampires?”

  “You didn’t notice? Figures. You’re too busy picking out tonight’s sheetmate. There are two bloodsuckers in the club, and they are hot on your plaid butt.”

  Cooper wasn’t sure how vampires played into the game between Sinistari and Fallen. Nor had he noticed, or would he notice, if a couple of vampires had been eyeing him up. They blended easily with mortals, and their kind could only determine one from another by a touch called the shimmer. An angel could connect to that shimmer, but only if he were searching for such a connection.

  “You’re mistaken,” he said.

  “I’m never wrong.”

  “That’s funny, considering you can’t have been on earth more than a few days. Never hasn’t quite the impact.”

  Twisting her hair about a finger, she nodded toward the balcony railing. “Look down there.”

  He followed her pointing finger, but was wary she had not put away the blade. The Sinistari demon wielded the only blade that could pierce his solid glass heart and kill him.

  Over by the balcony a man in a dark suit with dark hair and a neatly squared red tie cast his glance over the dance floor below.

  “He’s not a vampire. How can you possibly know?”

  “He smells like blood and I saw the fangs. Besides, I can sense them the same way I can sense the Fallen. Vibrations, baby. He’s a vamp. There’s another one below. They’re doing the tag team thing. But whatever. If you won’t listen to me, fine. I’ll follow your wake when you leave the club. Did you, um…bring your wooden stake?”

  She twirled her knife, smiling mockingly as she did, then tucked it away in the leather sheath strapped under her arm. How she had gotten past security with that thing was beyond Cooper.

  “Guess not.” She snapped her gum and the tilt of her head dusted a swath of gorgeous hair over a shoulder. “So, Juphiel.”

  “That’s not my name,” he corrected quickly. “Not here. Not on earth.”

  “Yeah? Okay, I’ll play. What’s the name of the man I’m going to poke with my big pointy knife and rip the heart out of?”

  Chapter 2

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  The man was ten kinds of sexy. And Pyx had been on earth such a short time even one kind of sexy was intriguing. His gray eyes featured wild spots of color. Each time she looked at them she saw a new one, azure, green, violet—or it could be the club lights. The shadow of a mustache emphasized his lips. And his square jaw advertised power and strength, a warrior.

  Warriors she appreciated, and could definitely waste some time admiring. Angels were warriors, but so not her type.

  It wasn’t fair. He was the enemy. She existed on this earth to kill him, not admire him.

  And don’t forget it.

  “Cooper Truhart?” she said after he’d given her his name. “What kind of name is Cooper?”

  “I was conjured to earth and landed on top of a car,” he said casually. A wink was followed by a dangerous melt-her-steel-heart smile. “You should be glad I didn’t go with Mini.”

  “You don’t use your angel name?”

  “I have no desire to defame my divine name as I walk this earth. You don’t like it, that’s not my problem. What is my problem, is you. If I can’t kill you—and I’m not into murdering women—then I’ll need to turn my back. I’ll be leaving now. Not that you’re not a peach to talk to, but demons are not my thing.”

  “You’re not my thing either, angel boy,” she called as he slid from the boot
h and strode off.

  The kilt hem hit at his knees, and revealed tight, muscled legs with dark hair. He scratched his hip and batted that same sexy wink over his shoulder at her.

  Pyx nodded, but couldn’t find a smile. “Idiot. He has no clue about the vampires. Guess someone better keep an eye on the poor, lost fallen angel. Because if I don’t, he’ll never survive to find his muse.” And why not kill her? Since when did angels discern the moral quandary between killing a male or female?

  Curse the black sea Beneath! Why breasts and curves? If this was a joke on her for something she’d done or not done the previous round she’d been summoned to stalk the Fallen, she did not appreciate it now. Because, okay, she had slipped up then. Then, she’d not located the Fallen she’d been assigned to kill until it was too late—a nephilim had been born.

  She would prove herself this go-around. Her pride—yet another necessary sin—demanded it.

  Easing her way through the crowd, Pyx found Cooper standing at the top of the stairs looking over the dance floor below. She approached slowly, keeping shy of his peripheral vision.

  What would an angel be doing in a dance club when he should be stalking his muse? Unless he was picking up women for practice?

  Didn’t make sense. Pyx knew the Fallen could have sex with mortal women, but they didn’t receive pleasure unless the act was with a muse. Seemed like a waste of time to go through the motions with any old woman and for no reward.

  Pyx, on the other hand, could do as she pleased. She could be with any man she desired.

  “A man?” she muttered, still put off by the fact she was a she. “What the heck would I do with one of them?”

  Though she had to admit she did notice the males more than the females. Good thing for her sexual assignment. But the sexiest man in the room was also her target.

  Maybe the muse was in the room? The Fallen were compelled toward their muses. Hmm…

  Well, if he were going to attract a hapless mortal destined to carry his monster baby, his current fashion choice did aid in his allure.

  “Why a kilt?” she wondered as she stepped behind Cooper and leaned onto the railing right next to him. “It’s like a skirt for guys, right?”