Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) (5 page)

Jude poured another glass. “How do you figure?”

“She shot you, right?”

He grunted.

“And you lived. Ergo, Cori likes you. She has trouble expressing herself in conventional ways.”

Jude’s eyebrow went up.

Alex leaned back and propped an ankle on his knee. “She talked a lot about you. It was irritating.”

“Funny, she never mentioned you.” The barb hit home and Alex’s eyes narrowed.

“Now I really don’t like you.”

“Likewise.” Jude looked down at his glass. Empty again. How did that happen? He reached for the bottle when Alex’s empty glass appeared in his blurred field of vision.
Meh, what the hell?
He refilled both glasses.

The dark-haired Greek took a long drink from his glass and sat back with a satisfied
ah
. “She’s an awful lot of woman to be so little, you know. I’ve seen her make Arab princes run for the dunes. She can be quite terrifying.”

“Is this a sales pitch? Because if it is, it sucks.”

Alex chuckled. “No, just a warning.”

It was meant to sound innocent, but Jude’s alcohol-soaked brain latched onto the word ‘warning’ like a lifeline. Before he knew it, the crystal glass dropped from his hand to roll onto the rug, and he had Alex by the throat, shoving him down into the cushioned chaise.

His hand was burning, and he could feel the fires of pain licking up his skin, burrowing down to the muscle underneath. Jude’s lip curled and he spat, “Don’t you fucking threaten me.”

Alex’s eyes were wide with shock, but Jude couldn’t see fear. The blue glow around him swirled and the image over his head coalesced. Recognition set in. A jackal. The glow softened, and Jude’s hand tightened as the blue light shivered to wrap around his hand.

The light was cold and icy, dampening the fires that burned on his skin. There was no relief, just a switch from burning hot to freezing cold. Jude’s attention wavered, and the muzzle of Alex’s gun pressed into his torso.

“Get the fuck off me,” he wheezed from beneath Jude’s grip.

“Not before you tell me what you are, Alex.”

Alex’s answer was to twist and buck at the same time, unbalancing Jude, and Alex threw him off onto the floor.

“We’re done here,” Alex growled, turning to stomp to the door, the nine hanging from his hand.

“Like hell,” Jude snarled, scrambling to lunge forward and tackle Alex behind the knees.

Alex cried out as he fell, and the reflexive shot that popped off echoed through the air, shattering a window on the far wall. Jude snatched the gun from his hand and tossed it aside, grabbing hold of Alex’s hips to flip him over. Fists flew and mouths swore as they grappled, rolling over and over until the sound of Coriander’s voice filled the room.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Both men stilled and looked up at the pissed-off redhead in the doorway. Neither man dared to speak as they pushed apart with a final volley of half-hearted slaps and heated glares.

“Get. Up.”

Jude and Alex scrambled to their feet as she entered the room in a flourish of silk, her robe fluttering behind her. She spotted the gun on the floor and snatched it up, stalking to Alex with a face like death. She shoved the piece into his hands and slapped him hard across the face. Alex’s face snapped back with a start.

“You fucking idiot! What were you thinking? Your child is upstairs!
Your child, Alex!
” she hissed. Her death-glare turned on Jude. “And you. I expected better than this from you. From both of you.” She pointed to the double doors that led to the outside. “March.”

Alex’s eyes hit the floor, and he trudged over and walked outside.

“You too, pigeon,” she snarled.

Jude followed him to the little cobbled courtyard and out into the grass.

He was about to turn around and demand what the hell she was doing when he was hit with a forceful spray of icy cold water. The ungainly shriek that emerged from his throat was echoed by Alex as she turned the hose on both of them. The drenching lasted for a few more seconds before she turned off the spigot and dropped the hose on the ground.

Coriander wrapped the robe around her and yanked the tie into a knot. She folded her arms over her chest and squared her shoulders. “Do not come back in this house until you sleep it off. And if this happens again, I will end the both of you.” She turned and went back into the house, muttering, “Men.”

Jude and Alex stared at each other with hard faces, and parted ways, the wet squishing of their feet in the grass mingling with sounds of crickets in the moonlight.

Jude awoke with a splitting headache and a mouth that tasted like cotton-stuffed shit. One eye cracked open, only to slam shut again under the painful assault of sunlight on his corneas. He groaned as the previous evening’s events came back to him. Wild Turkey. Alex. Vodka. The hose.

“Are you going to get up now? It’s almost lunchtime.” The tiny voice filtered into his brain, cutting though the replay of bad decisions. He rolled to the side and tried opening his eyes again.

Ashtiru stood over him in a bright yellow sundress, her bare feet nestled in the grass, toes glittering with a sparkly pink polish. Her halo of red hair swirled around her oval face in the breeze, and she shifted the stuffed dragon in her grasp to swipe at a stray lock that fell over her nose.

“Are you up?” The tiny foot shot out to poke him in the side. He winced at the poke, more irritated than injured by the gesture. “Mommy said if you don’t get up and come inside, then you have to stay out here.” Jude watched as her nose wrinkled. “You can’t stay out here. You need a bath. You smell funny.”

He eased up to a sitting position, fighting against every synapse in his body that protested. Ashtiru eyed him warily, but held out a small hand. He moved as if to stand on his own, but the little girl huffed and shook her hand at him in a manner that reminded him of her mother. He wasn’t afraid to touch her, but neither was he eager.

“Manners,” Ashtiru blurted. “Mommy says it’s polite to take someone’s hand when they give it to you.” She shook her hand again for emphasis. The wide-eyed innocence hit him right in the solar plexus, stealing the breath from his lungs. He gritted his teeth and grasped her hand.

There was a vibration, but no pain. It got under his skin and grated, but it was nowhere near as painful as touching anyone else. The realization was startling, and he would have spent more time dwelling on the lightbulb moment, but his stomach decided to give a violent pitch, and he turned to the side to vomit into the grass with a loud retch.

Ashtiru squealed and dropped his hand, running back to the house, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! Mr. Jude needs the throw-up bowl!”

Coriander slammed the book shut, making her sister jump. “Have you lost your mind, Persephone? I want them out of my house. Or at least fixing the mess in the gardens.”

“Cori, they need a place to stay. You’ve only been home three days. They’ve been here for three months already, and it’s not like you don’t have-” Persephone hated talking to her sister in the office. The whole room was designed to intimidate anyone below a genius level IQ. The ocean of dark oak spread between the overstuffed wingback chair where she sat, and across the desk where Coriander sat getting angrier by the second, made Persephone feel like she was six and in trouble all over again.

Coriander glared at her over the top of her little round reading glasses. “Room for them?” she finished. “While you may treat my house like a hotel, it is not. They’re sloppy, loud, and irritating. I found Jude sitting in this very office, at
this
very desk, having phone sex, and Dominick has completely taken over my guest house.”

Persephone sighed. “It’s Domniel. And Lucius says that Dom needs some space to work out some issues he’s having.”

Coriander’s face reddened and she stood up. Turning a deeper shade of red, she planted her hands on the massive desktop and bit out, “I seriously doubt that the harem of cheap whores he accumulates counts as working on his fucking issues.”

Before Persephone could stop herself, she replied, “When you put it that way, I would say that’s exactly what he’s doing.” As soon as it was out, she slapped a hand over her mouth and watched the fine tremble that began in Coriander’s hands work its way up her arms. Coriander pointed toward the door and Persephone bolted.

Shutting the door behind her on her sister’s piercing cry of frustration, Persephone sighed in relief, and smiled at Lucius as he walked toward her. “Well, she didn’t shoot me. That’s good, right?”

“What did she say? You look like you narrowly missed being shot at.” Persephone gave him a wan smile and he frowned. “She can’t be that angry about us being here.”

“She is.” Persephone slipped an arm through Lucius’ and laid her head on his bicep. “But she’ll get over it.” They walked back towards the living room.

“Or she’ll kill us all in our sleep,” he muttered.

Persephone patted his arm. “It’s a distinct possibility.”

Jude appeared on the landing between the hallway and the living room. He inclined his head down the length of the long hall. “She in her office?”

Persephone nodded. “Yes, but I wouldn’t approach her just now. She’s a bit testy.”

“When isn’t she?” the big angel huffed.

Lucius ushered Persephone past him and continued behind her, throwing his brother a knowing look. “Good luck. Please try to come out of there with all your limbs attached. It’ll just piss off Lige if he has to heal you again. You’re like the worst patient ever.”

“I can’t make any promises. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah, and I know you,” Lucius called over his shoulder. “So don’t fuck it up, princess.”

He didn’t both
er to knock before he barged into Coriander’s office. Her back was turned as she perused one of the wall-to-wall bookshelves.

“And to what do I owe this honor?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “Here to run up my phone bill with some more of your freaky sex talk?”

“A lapse in discretion. It won’t happen again,” Jude replied.

“You bet your feathered ass it won’t.” She turned to face him, the lines of her face tight, but he could see the hint of a smile at the edge of her lips. “I know you’re not all touchy-feely, but if you need someone to talk dirty to you, Teir probably wouldn’t mind. I’d say sleep with her, but for one, she’s my sister, and two, she’d be all over you like a bad rash. I don’t think you could handle her.” Her lips turned up and she grinned.