Mark of the Fallen: A Fallen Novel Read online

  Everything about her read leader, the way she moved through the room like a general, her presence filling the space with the sweet smells of lavender and vanilla. Lilith, nodded when Jonas introduced her, unable to form any words as the firelight danced across her soft caramel colored skin. She had been in complete and utter amazement of the woman standing before her. Her eyes, her magnificent eyes shifted from the vibrant turquoise to a color that could only be described as neon cerulean when the vamp turned to face her. Lilith barely had time to comprehend what was happening before the room erupted into noise and movement as Celeste knocked the vamp on his ass.

  Of course, Lilith had noticed the Persian when she arrived, she couldn't help but notice him. He sat like a brooding prince in a high backed chair, his beautiful face tight with apprehension. Not that she blamed him. Vamps were not known for mingling, so for them to send someone to act as the attaché for the Collective was a major coup. She was surprised they had even let him in, most vamps being rather opposed to the Collective, as a whole. Yet, there he sat, looking oh so sexy. He had been polite enough when they were introduced, but he had been distracted and slightly nervous as well. She wasn't sure if it was being in this place or their impending meeting with Celeste.

  When he was introduced, everything in the room went still and cold for half a second before Celeste struck him and hell broke loose.

  Lilith had finally taken her seat when she was handed a glass of brandy. She took it with shaky hands, smiling tightly at Arbor who sat beside her. Lilith remembered looking at the woman, her calm and exterior comforting, and she found herself relaxing in her presence.

  "Don't worry, hon," Arbor said in her easy tone. “She's more bark than bite. Remy will calm her down,” she assured her, and Lilith thought about that for a while. She watched as everyone else seemed to calm and even chuckle to themselves. They had not intervened and they hadn't seemed overly worried about the situation, because they knew. They knew that Celeste would never hurt someone she truly cared for, no matter how angry.

  Now, as she sat alone in this room, Lilith thought about that again and smiled. The goddess who defeated death had given her the key to her weakness without even realizing it.

  ***

  Karim wandered aimlessly through the winding corridors of the Collective's compound for what felt like hours before he realized that he was lost. The compound was larger than he’d been aware of when he'd left Celeste's suite on the fifth level. In his wanderings he'd discovered four additional levels of living quarters that were set aside for the Collective and guests in need of refuge. Like a hotel, there were two levels of rooms set aside for balls, parties and various rituals. The levels closest to the top were for business, rooms you would find in any office building, board rooms, court rooms and the like. More people milled around on these levels, going about their business, socializing, and greeting each other. A few cast sidelong glances at the vampire as he moved through the halls. Not because he was particularly imposing, but because vampires had never been a part of the Collective.

  It wasn't until he ventured to the lowest levels, those so deep underground and so well protected that no sound escaped them, that he realized he was utterly alone in the corridors. The prison and punishment levels, the levels where executions and brutal judgments were carried out. The cells on these levels were impenetrable with solid titanium walls and twelve inch thick vault doors that it would take a year to get through. There were the rooms with silver, iron and other metals in the bars, and those with double paned reinforced glass, each designed to keep certain species from escaping. He felt a chill on these levels and went back to the beginning.

  If things had been different, he could have ended up in one of these cells. He absently touched his lips, remembering the tingle, the spark of electricity that ran through him whenever he kissed her. He had gone centuries fantasizing about her taste, her scent, the way her eyes shifted with her moods. She was sharp and funny and such a sweet girl and his actions had somehow changed her.

  The elevator doors opened and he found himself right outside of the room where his night had begun with such promise. He was not at all surprised to find the room empty, the fire dying in the hearth. He moved deeper into the room and took a seat on the sofa, watching the shadows playing across the walls in macabre pantomime.

  "There you are. Such a dramatic exit, I thought you might have gone. Or been tossed into a torture cell. I guess you're wilier than I gave you credit for. Impressive." Her voice was deeper than expected coming from one so slight and fair. Karim rolled his eyes not at all surprised that she was lurking in the dark.

  "I went to speak to Cal ... speak to Cal-Celeste. I wasn't trying to impress you," he said, feeling strange calling her by that name. She would always be Calie to him, Calie with the dancing eyes and a laugh that sounded like the flutter of butterfly wings. He wondered if he would ever hear that laugh again.

  "Ah, the beautiful warrior goddess, she is quite fierce in person. And they weren't kidding about the eyes, the way the color shifts. Gorgeous. I have never seen anything quite like them. Or her, for that matter. She pretty much lives up to legend, wouldn't you say? It was kind of sexy the way she went all Amazonian. Frightening. You must have really done something awful." She slid easily into a seat nearby, a drink in her tiny hand, her hair tossed over slim shoulders. Her brilliant red hair which looked darker in the dim light, was brushed away from a surprisingly appealing face; her eyes colorless in the pale firelight. She stared at Karim the way a tiger might eye a weakened gazelle.

  "And did the Commander forgive you for your misdeeds?" she asked. "Tell me, what did you do?"

  He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. She was close, her eyes like blood rimmed ice, and her skin was the true definition of porcelain, pale white as if she's been carved with a delicate hand. Her lips were thin lines stained red, her hair was such a vivid shade of crimson that it made her skin seem transparent even in the dimness of the room. Something about her filled him with unease, even her small stature and slight frame was off-putting to him.

  He slid away from her, his hip pressed into the wooden arm of the sofa. He felt that if she touched him he would somehow be tainted, poisoned by her.

  "Why should I tell you anything? Why are you here anyway?" he asked, hearing Celeste's voice echoing in his mind. She had asked him the same thing, and just like this creature, he hadn't answered. Yet, he felt that his reasons were more selfish, more personal than this demon's reasons. He had come in part to see Celeste again. When he'd heard that there was a goddess with brilliant blue eyes working as the Commander of the Grey, he needed to find out if it was her. He'd convinced the vampire elders that he would be the perfect candidate for their proposed merger with the Collective.

  After all, he'd been a messenger of the primordial, he was one of the oldest and strongest vampires and he had a pure and regal blood line. Who better than the fallen prince to redeem the good standing of the vampire clans within the Collective. He had avoided any mention of Calie, her wellbeing, her life now or even the possibility of seeing her again. Because he knew that his curiosity, all of his want of her had not died in all of these years

  And although his motives were less than noble, he got the distinct impression that this Lilith's motivations were much more sinister. Something in her smile and the glint in her eyes, or perhaps it was the way the fire cast shadows across her face that made his blood run cold.

  "We are alike, you and I, Karim. We have come to this fortress with similar tasks in mind. If we work together, surely it could be beneficial. You already have a relationship with the goddess. She wields such power and respect that they will do anything she asks. She is revered by these creatures, and even though they won't admit it, she is truly the leader. With your influence over her -”

  Karim rose feeling sick to his stomach. He did not know if it was her presence or the way she spoke, but something was wrong. He could feel a pressure, a buil
ding headache, growing behind his eyes as she spoke. The tone of her voice was almost hypnotic and his natural urge was to fight against it. He stared into her crystal eyes and watched as the red from the rim of her eye bled into her irises making them as blood red as her hair. It was a startling effect and he found himself feeling queasy the longer he stared. She was doing something to him, something that felt nasty and wrong.

  "No," he snapped, backing away from her. "You will not bend my will to suit your needs, demon. Stay out of my head because you will not like what you find there." He practically roared. "Don't pursue this or you will end your days in a torture cell."

  He left the room, feeling unclean and ill. It had taken him a moment to figure out that she was trying to influence him to help her. Bending his will to act as her minion, do her bidding. He realized that she managed to make an attempt in a place that was void of magic. The compound was a bound place, no magic allowed, not by anyone. So how had she managed that?

  What the demon Lilith didn't know was that you could not bend the will of one of the Seven, especially one as old as he.

  Karim left and immediately felt the need to warn someone, his only problem was who to go to with this information? He paused at the bank of elevators and realized, there was only one person he could talk to about this.

  ***

  She ran, the wind blowing in her face as she made her way through traffic to jog past the convention center toward the French Quarter. In skin tight shorts that showed off long toned legs and a tank that emphasized full breasts, more than a few heads turned as she moved with easy grace down Decatur towards Jackson Square. She loved burn in her lungs, sweat dripping down her face and under her breasts while Green Day blasted into her ears from her iPod. Her head was clear, memories of Karim lifting away as she pushed harder, her muscles straining.

  She began to slow her pace as she saw the black wrought iron fence that surrounded the square and heard a beautifully melodic male voice. It was a soft tenor, singing something bouncy and the crowd around him clapped in rhythm to his acoustic guitar. She moved closer and saw his platinum hair and deep tan above the swaying crowd and smiled.

  He spotted her too because he began to walk through the crowd, which parted in his wake, clearing a path so that he could make his way to the stunner with the bright blue eyes. Not blue really, more of a cerulean with bright violet flecks. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail that swayed as she bobbed from one foot to the other.

  He moved closer, changing his song from some made up jaunt to one of her favorites, Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen. The crowd seemed a bit taken aback, but she laughed, shaking her head. He wore Hawaiian print board shorts, a faded and rather well-worn t-shirt and flip flops, he looked more like a surfer dude than a singer. He circled her as he sang, 'Are you going to take me home tonight? Ah down beside that red firelight. Are you gonna let it all hang out? Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round,"

  She turned, a blush creeping into her cheeks as he moved closer. He sang loud and clear and began to follow her as she slowly backed away, waving at the crowd that voiced their disappointment as she left. The performer held out his hands to the crowd then followed her, singing as he did.

  The crowd followed him.

  The troupe had grown until they reached Cafe du Monde and she could no longer stand it. She looked at him over her shoulder, his eyes dancing, and his smile infectious. More people were turning to watch her being serenaded and she could take no more. She stopped, turning to face him and the parade halted, the singing didn't.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, how about a round of applause for the one and only, Nicky Sky." She clapped and the horde went insane. Without his leather pants and dark eyeliner, without the glitter and glam, they had no idea that the playful street singer they were enjoying was none other than rock god Nicky Sky. Her best friend of six years now.

  He narrowed his eyes as the crowd closed in, moving closer for pictures and autographs. He smiled and signed, not wanting to be rude, he was never rude. But he watched Celeste as she moved away from the crowd to continue her jog back to her apartment and a nice hot shower.

  "I'll get you for this CeCe!" he yelled.

  She waved her fingers and put her ear buds back in as Billy Joe Armstrong sang American Idiot.

  ***

  She heard the pluck of guitar strings in her living room when she exited the shower. She paused while she was drying her hair as he picked out a familiar melody. She knew he'd chase her down after what she'd done to him. She was sure he would have gotten to her apartment a little later than he had. She dressed quickly in baggy sweats, fuzzy green socks, her hair hanging in damp waves over her shoulders.

  She left her bathroom, a large room in white with a clawfoot tub that was big enough to fit two people and smelled always of lavender. She crossed her bedroom, an elegant affair in soft yellows and lavender, the skylight casting bright rays of summer sunlight across the pillows, giving the entire room a sun-kissed glow. She left the room, taking the stairs two at a time and spotted the platinum spikes of his hair on her sofa.

  "How did you get in here?" she asked when she reached the bottom step. Nicky turned and looked back at her, smiling deviously. He looked like a little kid surrounded by the museum quality decor. Celeste had so many artifacts and souvenirs from her many years on earth that many didn't even fit into her rather small apartment. What was here now ranged from Japanese samurai armor in her office nook, to medieval tapestries and a nasty bit of modern art that hung on one wall, long metal spikes pointing outward. One had to be careful not to slide into it or risk the possibility of impalement.

  Nicky had often joked that the warehouse that stored the remainder of her collection would make any curator, historian or archaeologist go moist if they ever got a peek at it.

  "You know," he rose slowly, still in his t-shirt and board shorts, his feet bare, "that is the advantage of being a rock star. I can get in just about anywhere. Do you have anything to eat in here besides carrot sticks and chocolate chips?"

  "I haven't had a chance to get to the store. I was supposed to go this morning but I got called in. Wanna come with me?" She went through the cabinets making a mental note of everything she needed to stock up on.

  "Sure. Called in? Is this the Collective?" he asked. Nicky knew of Celeste's true identity. He'd known for years and she had been grateful for his friendship. He was the one person outside of the preternatural world who knew the truth about her. He was her rock, her saving grace, her connection to the real world where magic and monsters didn't exist. He allowed her to have a real life.

  ***

  When she had met him in a small, very elite, very private college six years ago, Nicolai Skylar Novachek was an outcast, a scholarship kid stuck in a dorm surrounded by blue bloods who looked down on him. Everyone except the gorgeous Celeste Keegan Kent. She had appeared, like a fantasy on a cool fall morning in his junior year. When she moved across the small campus, it was as if the world had stopped. He remembered the way the air smelled, fresh and crisp with the coming winter. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, leaving a trail of black silk behind her as she followed two dark suited men into the dormitory. She'd glanced his way, only for a second, but when she did, he got the full blast of her beauty. He had was instantly infatuated.

  The first time he'd made her laugh, he'd fallen in love. It hadn't even mattered what she was by the time he'd accidentally seen her feed from her oldest brother's thick wrist. He had walked into her room, talking while he read a pizza menu, and seen the bulky man siting calmly as Celeste sank her delicate fangs into his wrist.

  He'd dropped the menu and stared until Gaston barked for him to close the door. Terrified, he'd obliged but stood pressed against the closed door his eyes as wide as saucers, his jaw slack as Celeste continued to feed.

  When she was done, she'd looked brighter, healthier, refreshed almost. Gaston shook his head, rising as he looked over Nicky. He was tall, over six three, a wall of
heaving muscle with eyes that were a mossy greenish brown and sharply focused on Nicky who cowered too frightened to run. He did note that Gaston, though large and intimidating, did not have a harsh face. In fact, he had a rather kind yet strong angular face, stern mouth and skin the color of a perfect cappuccino. But an aura of danger radiated from him. Gaston Kent was raw power and menace in a three-piece suit.

  "We should wipe his memories," Gaston said.

  He remembered Celeste looking at him, her eyes neon as she inspected him. He met her gaze, feeling calm and suddenly relaxed. She moved closer at lightning speed, her fangs bared as if she were going to attack. He was startled, then he started to laugh, a weird high pitched keening that turning into hysterical giggling. Gaston and Celeste stared at each other.

  "This is new," Gaston said with a curiously lifted brow.

  Nicky slid down the door, his knees drawn up, hands resting easily on their peaks as he chortled and snorted, tears streaming down his face.

  "Okay," Gaston sighed, kissing her forehead. "I'll be going now. I believe, you can handle ... this." He pulled the door, shoving Nicky to the side before he squeezed his massive frame through a crack in the door.

  "What are you?” he'd finally calmed enough to ask.

  She'd sighed and took his hand in hers and told him everything. It seemed to pour out of her and he took it in, wanting to hear all she had to say. It started a long conversation that lasted until the early hours of the morning. There had been no secrets between them since. Not even the fact that Nicky was completely in love with her had been held at bay. Even though he knew that it could never be, he still loved her. And in her way, the only way she knew how, she loved him.