Lost In Time: A Fallen Novel Page 10

  “Great, just freaking great,” she snarled.

  She went to her room and stared out at the fields of red, orange bedrock, the Lake of Souls. After a time it did its job and calmed her. She had a part to play, and she wasn’t going to walk away from it.

  Concentrating on the mortal plane, she located Marcus and flashed back to him, cursing him up one side and down the other as she did it.

  ****

  Marcus just stared at the spot where Celeste had disappeared for several moments, expecting her to come back. When the car reached the house and she still hadn’t re-appeared, he grabbed their things and went inside. She was insane, had been trapped in the Infernos for too long. It didn’t matter some part of him was worried about her; that some part of him was upset he had hurt her so horrible. She was a warrior, and he had pushed her to back away and run. He knew it must be humiliating for her. He was a total ass.

  Cameron met him at the front door. “Where’s the hot Demon?”

  “Shut up, Cameron,” Marcus barked.

  Cameron started to laugh. “It took me four months to get sick of you. You got rid of her in like four days? The guys are going to shit.”

  Marcus dropped the bags and slugged the Tracker in the face. Cameron’s head snapped back, but he didn’t stop laughing as blood poured from his nose. “And you hit like a girl.” He laughed even harder. “I bet the Demon hits harder than you do.”

  Marcus saw red. Cameron was probably right. In the several fights they had been in, she hadn’t really allowed him to fight. She always took the lead. He had to admit part of his pride was hurt. She ran head first into a fight with no regard for her own safety because she knew she was going to win. He wondered where she had gotten such self-assurance. Then he remembered who her brothers and father were. Celeste had obviously never failed. He wondered what would happen when and if she ever did.

  Marcus walked away from Cameron knowing the Tracker, like his brothers, liked nothing more than a good fight. Marcus was tired, irritated beyond belief and frustrated as hell. He wondered if this mission could possible get any worse, or if he could feel any worse about it and the woman he was partnered with.

  “So this is all we have?” Marcus asked after he had poured over the Intel the Tracker had uncovered.

  Cameron shrugged. “The city is a hotspot of Others and mortals, and they all know something funky is going on. There have been random attacks by Demons and Vampires. The Others are saying there is going to be a war, and the mortals are scared to death. Why the hell wouldn’t Dante just give us a name? Why just a location? What game is he playing?”

  “That’s not how being Touched works. When mortals die, they go to Heaven or one of the levels of the Infernos, or straight to Hell. Or they go into Limbo if they are chosen in Limbo to return and be reincarnated. If the Arch overseeing it wants to track that soul to see if that soul changes its ways, they become Touched. Same with Dante, but sometimes, like in my case and Kyra’s, we are singled out, so are the Touched that we are looking for. There are hundreds, if not thousands of Touched, however, only a handful of them are truly special.”

  “Dante doesn’t know who his Touched are because they are reborn, and when that happens, their souls are cleansed. They are new, and the Arch knows who they are and places a Guardian over them in order to keep them from danger. It’s one of Dante’s greatest irritations that in the process of rebirth, the power of his Touched shifts to the Angels and light,” Marcus explained.

  “Great history lesson, but it does nothing in the way of finding the Touched or the Guardian, dude. Taste. Touch. Smell. Kinda the Tracker motto,” Cameron said. “Besides, what happens to the Guardians and Touched that aren’t specially touched by Dante’ for a specific reason? If Calliope kills them, what happens?”

  “Their soul immediately returns to Limbo. The Guardian is returned to the Angels or to Dante if they have failed so completely that the soul of the Touched is compromised.”

  “And who decides if the soul is compromised?” Cameron asked.

  “If the Touched is killed specifically for its soul, by way of murder or ritual, or in our case, by Calliope in order to gain entrance into the Infernos, the soul is considered compromised,” Marcus explained. “Only pure evil would commit that type of crime. The Angels want nothing to do with that or the Guardian they have placed over that soul.”

  Cameron shook his head. “I’ll stick with being a Tracker.”

  Marcus was tired and pushed himself away from the desk to stretch. “It’s been a long couple of days. I believe that we have at least a one or two day’s lead on Calliope. I’m taking a shower and going to bed.”

  “What about the female?”

  `“She left. I’m not going to go after her. Actually, I can’t go after her with the Portals locked. If she wants to be a part of this fight, she will have to make the decision for herself and come back.” Marcus wasn’t sure how he actually felt, but it was ultimately up to Celeste. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her leaving or her coming back.

  Cameron nodded. “I’m going to go get laid. Ry and Kyra will be here tomorrow.”

  Marcus nodded and headed to the room he had taken for himself, glaring at Celeste’s bags as he passed them in the hall. The woman would have been the death of him. She was better off in the Infernos fighting alongside her brothers.

  So why was he worried about her? Why was he even thinking about her? He wanted to slam his head into the wall.

  He took a hot shower, forcing himself to think about anything other than the Demon/Reaper. Climbing from the shower he felt a hell of a lot better, wrapping a towel around his waist, he headed into his room.

  The only warning he got was the flash of fire.

  Chapter 6

  Celeste just stood there. She might have opened her mouth, but couldn’t be sure. Marcus stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his hips. The Sex Demon in her crowed with glee, and the lust surging through her body acted before her mind could stop it.

  She threw herself at him, pressing her lips against his. He was hot and wet and felt so amazing she was surprised her brain didn’t just combust right there. Celeste combed her fingers through his wet hair, bringing his head down so she could control the kiss. Sex pheromones surged through her body, making her slightly crazed.

  He was so amazing; better than she had imagined he would be, for the last two hundred years. His warmth spread through her like fire. Celeste wrapped one leg around his waist, thrusting him close to her core. She couldn’t control the moan from the feel of his erection. This had been the man she had always wanted, and he was in her arms. She never wanted to let him go.

  Celeste let her arms drop to the towel she tugged, letting it fall to the floor, and she cupped his butt. Fireworks went off in the pit of her stomach and traveled downward. It was the most wonderful feeling, nothing like anything she had ever felt before. She thought she might burst into flames any second. And for the life of her, she didn’t care.

  Celeste rubbed herself against Marcus, trying to get closer, only to realize his arms remained at his sides. Pulling away she looked at him. His facial expression was one of pain. Humiliation infused her where passion had been only seconds before. Shame sucked deep into the pit of her stomach.

  Celeste let her leg drop down to the floor with a thud. She stepped away from him. His hands were fisted at his side.

  “I’m sorry,” was all she could mumble through the lump in her throat.

  “What was that?” his words were quiet and controlled.

  She hesitated, not wanting to give up yet another secret to this cold, hard man. “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry,” she apologized again. The Sex Demon in her screaming and her pheromones still out of control, she turned toward the door.

  “Celeste,” Marcus said her name very quietly. She stopped at the door, but didn’t turn around. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, wasn’t sure if she was ever going to be able to look h
im in the eye again. “That can never happen again, do you understand me? I will not return your desires.”

  “Of course,” she said, before walking through the door and leaving him alone

  She looked around the house and found her bags and an empty room. She threw herself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her pain was so acute, she didn’t want to even move, but it would drive her to do something stupid if she didn’t pull herself together. Pushing herself off the bed, she stripped and put on something horribly provocative. Short skirt, leather bustier, high heel boots that went up to her thighs and no tights. She looked in the mirror and grimaced. She looked like a hooker. At the moment, she felt like one, but the part of her that was currently in control wasn’t going to allow her anything short of finding a man and getting laid. Either that or go nuts. “Tough choice,” she swore to herself.

  Throwing her bedroom door open, she was surprised to see Marcus standing there. He took one look at what she was wearing and swore.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” He had slipped on a pair of slacks and a turtle neck. It couldn’t be more obvious he was trying to cover as much of himself as possible, while she was showing more skin than was necessary. Her palms itched to feel his heated skin, the muscles just beneath the thick sweater, roll and jump at her touch. She sucked in a breath and tried to control her Sex Demon.

  “My choice of clothing has nothing to do with you, Fallen. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have someplace I need to be.” She tried to move past him without touching him, but he wasn’t moving. They did a back and forth dance in the hall. He wasn’t going to let her leave.

  “You are not going out looking like that,” he growled, making her knees a little weak.

  She couldn’t look at him and instead, stared at the flower wallpaper over his right shoulder, praying to the Mother of the Gods to just let her get past him.

  “Please Marcus, just get out of my way. This has nothing to do with you, and I would appreciate it if you would just let me pass.” Each word was enunciated precisely.

  “What are you trying to prove, Celeste? What is going on in that crazy, beautiful head of yours?” He actually sounded interested.

  Her eyes moved to his beautiful emerald green ones. She took a couple of short breaths. “I am a Sex Demon. And if you don’t get the fuck out of my way, right this minute, I will not be able to control myself.”

  “The Sex Demons were banned to the Infernos.” He didn’t so much as move an inch, like saying that would make her less of one.

  “Yes, I am aware of that. It was six hundred years ago,” she said defensively. “My mother tried to buy her way out by becoming Dante’s concubine. All she got from it was me. When Dante turned from her, she was sent to Lust where she remains.”

  “How often do you need sex?” She moaned with him just saying the word. She turned back into her room and slammed the door in his face. It was either that or jump him. She headed for the window.

  She wasn’t thinking. Her brain was turning into a mush of lust and need. He threw the door open just as she swung a leg over the window sill. “Oh for the love of all that is holy in this world, can you please just leave me alone?” she snarled.

  Marcus stormed into the room. “If I am mistaken, and please let me know if I am, you were the one to Flash into my room half an hour ago and maul me. It wasn’t the other way around. So you’ll pardon me if I want some god damn answers.”

  She stopped moving and took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs for as long as she could before releasing it.

  “I came back. I came back because there is a war being fought in the Infernos, and the answers are here in the mortal plane. I don’t want to lose another brother, nor do I want the souls of the Infernos to be released on this world. I came back—” she bit her tongue because she almost said I came back to you. “I came back because it was the right thing to do. I followed your light path because I didn’t know where you had gone. That is why I ended up flashing into your room. It was an accident, one I promise will never happen again.” She finished, throwing her other leg over the sill and jumped. It was only two stories, and she landed on her feet like a cat, regardless of the five inch heels she was wearing.

  “Damn it, Celeste, come back here and fight this out with me,” Marcus bellowed out the window, but she ignored him and walked down the long drive. She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there.

  When she reached the end of the drive she looked left then right and saw nothing but a tree lined road. When tail lights illuminated the road from behind her, she knew she didn’t have a lot of time and decided to throw caution to the wind.

  Flashing, she set her mind to a place with music and people. Lots of people.

  The hard bass and gyrating bodies hit her like a ton of bricks as she Flashed into the night club. Luckily, with the light show going on, her Flash in didn’t seem to alert anyone. Looking around she tried to pick out suitable prey, but every guy she looked at more than once came up short. His hair wasn’t dark enough. He had blue eyes. He had green eyes, but blond hair. After an hour, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or cry. Four days. Four days with a man she had made into a god, only to find out he was a total jackass, yet every man she saw still didn’t compare enough to him.

  For two hundred years she had always been able to find a replacement someone that looked enough like him to get her attention. Frustration boiling a little too close to the surface, she Flashed out of that club and into another. It was Goth and S & M-inspired with pale woman dressed in all black, men with chain link shirts and spiked collars who wore black lipstick.

  Celeste couldn’t help it. She laughed. None of these people had any idea, did they? Maybe opening the Infernos was a good idea.

  “Not your idea of a Saturday night out?” a gentleman asked, coming to stand next to her. He wasn’t like the others. He was dressed in casual jeans and a button down shirt. She turned to him fully and smiled. He was a Vampire with a great deal of power.

  “Not really, but what’s a girl to do?” she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Not Flashing in like a Demon from hell might be a good start.” He said it so casually that it left Celeste blinking at him several times.

  “Saw that, did you?”

  “I don’t miss much, but your secret is safe with me. Half the mortals here are hyped up on some type of drug, and the Others don’t really care.” He motioned to the bartender. “What can I get you to drink, sweetheart?”

  “Vodka tonic, extra lime.” She told the bartender. Holding out her hand to the Vampire she said, “Celeste.”

  He looked at her hand for a moment then gently grasped her fingers and brought them to her lips. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Celeste.”

  Celeste smiled back, letting all her Sex Demon needs flow through her as she replied. “No, the pleasure is all mine.”

  ****

  Marcus checked his watch. It was now three a.m. and Celeste had still not returned. Where in the hell had she gone?

  “To get laid, you dumb ass, because you froze like someone was holding a gun to your head when she threw herself at you,” he muttered back to himself.

  He didn’t know what happened. One minute he was standing there in the bathroom door, and the next there she was, looking so beautiful in her tight jeans and even tighter t-shirt, which showed off her cleavage in a way that had a man wanting more. Then she had thrown herself at him, touching him and kissing him. His entire body had gone into shock. He hadn’t touched a woman like that in over five hundred years. Her hands had been everywhere, and he had acted like a fifteen-year-old virgin; frozen with fear.

  She had tasted so good, like champagne and strawberries and that smell she had about her. Gods, he hadn’t wanted anyone like this since Jessica. Marcus stopped pacing and lowered himself to the floor resting one hand on his bent knee. If he was being honest with himself, he had never wanted Jessica in the sexual way that he wanted Celeste. That r
ealization stunned him, and he leaned his head back against the wall he stared at the crystal chandelier, wondering what he was doing.

  Jessica.

  Even thinking the name had hurt for so long he had stopped doing it. He had stopped looking for her in crowds, stopped hoping he would see her again. She had been a simple, yet beautiful farm girl when he met her.

  He had fallen for her hard, wasted no time in making her his.

  “So selfish,” he whispered to himself. He had been selfish back then to claim a mortal woman. How would he explain that he didn’t age? How would he keep her alive? Keep her with him forever?

  Fate was a fickle and cruel mistress. But being a Fallen Angel, he had thumbed his nose at Fate one too many times in his century and a half, and she punished him by taking Jessica. Then he had begged the Angels to make her a Guardian and Fate taunting him further had done exactly what he asked; made her into a soul bound to earth to serve at the mercy of the Angels in the hopes of becoming one.

  She had hated him for what he hadn’t told her. Hated him for what she had become. She refused to listen to what he had to say, or hear his offers of help to adjust to her new life.

  No, she had turned her back on him, taking the help of Uriel of the Betweens. He hadn’t seen her again for another hundred years, but then, by chance, he ran into her on a London street, of all places.

  Still beautiful, still young and full of life. Still his Jessica. That is what he had told himself at the time. Then she had said the words that would change his life. “You are a Fallen, not worthy of the life and light of the Gods. I understand now that you squandered the gifts the Angels bestowed upon you. I will not allow that to happen to myself or my charges.”

  “Jessica,” he had pleaded with her, but she had turned from him.