All That Falls (27 page)

“Hello?” Richard asked.

“Hi, Richard. There’s something you wanted to tell me?”

“Zelda said, ‘Nobody has ever measured, not even the poets, how much a heart can hold.’”

“Uh—”

“The Montblanc pen Helene gave me on our first date is inside a copy of
The Great Gatsby
on her desk. Bring it with you when you return.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“And her notes on my last novel. They’re in the closet next to the bamboo plant. My wife thinks I’d benefit from rereading her comments on that book. And my own. The margins, you know, we make use of them.”

“If Lysander and I go back to the house and have time, I’ll see if I can locate it. Listen, I have to go now—”

“I know. You’ve got to go back to the high-rise.”

“The high-rise?”

“Yes, and hurry. He’s breaking your doll.”

For a split second, Cerise froze, but the next instant she grabbed Lysander’s arm and jerked it to indicate that he should follow her as she hurried to the car.

“What doll, Richard? What high-rise? Are you talking about Griffin’s little sister?”

“A bird in the air is better than two in the cage.”

“Richard,” she snapped as she hauled the driver’s door open. “Are you talking about Jersey Lane?”

“Possibly. Don’t forget the manuscript.”

“Gotta go,” she said, ending the call and shoving the phone into her pocket. As Lysander pulled the passenger door closed, she related what Richard had said.

The car roared through the Etherlin, and Cerise slammed her foot on the brake to jerk the car to a stop in front of Griffin’s building. She leapt from the seat and ran to the front door. Lysander kept pace.

The elevator ride was brief, but felt too long. Cerise sprinted to Griffin’s apartment door and when she pushed it open, she was assaulted by the one Molly Times song she hated. “Sympathy, Too.” Its eerie violin bow against guitar strings opening and the ode-to-death and self-destruction lyrics turned her stomach.

Razor-ending zero, I endanger lives.

Taken all at midnight, Black berries done all right.

“Jersey?” Cerise screamed, rushing through the apartment. “Jersey?” Cerise flung the bathroom door open and gasped. The sight of so much splattered blood left her breathless. Troy lay on the floor in a black cherry pool, one side of his throat gaping open like a startled mouth.

In the formerly white tub, a tiny naked Jersey sat with her knees clasped to her chest, blood dripping down her calves.

“What happened? Are you bleeding?” Cerise stepped over Troy to reach the tub. Jersey sat in a few inches of pink water. It gushed from the tap, but the plug lay sideways next to the drain with its old-fashioned chain hooked over Jersey’s foot.

“I woke up when he cut my wrist. I grabbed his head. I meant to bang it against the tub I think. Not sure—” Jersey stammered, looking up at Cerise with wide eyes. Without makeup she looked about fifteen. “The knife jabbed into his neck.”

Cerise glanced down at the bloody butcher’s knife whose blade could just be seen under the claw-footed tub. Cerise grabbed Jersey’s arms to examine them. The gash in her left wrist pumped bright blood and Cerise pressed her fingers over Jersey’s pulse to stop the bleeding.

“He choked me till I passed out,” she said through chattering teeth. “He could’ve killed me right then. He didn’t have to put me in the bathtub naked. Didn’t need to slice me up.” She paused and swallowed. “He took off all my clothes, left me with nothing,” she spat, her small shoulders starting to shake.

“He was staging it to look like a suicide,” Cerise said grimly.

“He left me naked on purpose. Fucking asshole,” Jersey said in her high clear voice. “I’m cold, Cer. Really cold.”

Lysander lifted a T-shirt that was wadded on the floor. He ripped a strip of fabric from it and held it out. “Here,” he said. “Bind the wound.”

Cerise fashioned a tight bandage around Jersey’s wrist.

“I’ll get her. You find something to wrap around her,” Lysander said.

Cerise nodded, standing and moving past him. When she returned with a blanket, Lysander lifted Jersey by her upper arms and held her aloft. Cerise wrapped Jersey in a tight cocoon of fabric and Lysander swung her into the cradle of his arms. He carried her out to the living room and laid her on the chaise.

“With Troy dead, we won’t get answers from him,” Cerise murmured.

Straightening, Lysander shrugged his brows. “That which is most precious or secret is kept nearest.”

Taking his meaning, she returned to the body. Still warm, but cooling rapidly, Troy’s body resisted movement. She tried to avoid the pooled blood as she knelt next to him and emptied his pockets. She set his wallet and keys on a patch of dry white tile. From his other pocket, she removed a pill bottle with a yellowed pharmacy label. It was Griffin’s prescription for Klonopin. He’d taken them for seizures. Had Troy put them in his pocket so they’d be handy? Was he planning to force a few down Jersey’s throat as part of the suicide scene?

Lysander’s large hands yanked Troy’s bloody shirt open, buttons popping free like popcorn. Lying against his black chest hair was a gold chain and from that hung a jump drive, a small three-pronged lightning pendant—the symbol from a Molly Times CD—and a small smoked glass and pewter vial. Lysander snapped the chain and spilled the pendants into his hand.

“Take the technology and the charm,” he said. After she obliged, he uncapped the vial. The smell of the blood on the floor was overpowered by the scent of licorice and rotten eggs.

She coughed, and Lysander recapped the vial. “There’s human blood mixed with the aspect of a demon in this vial. Rella wasn’t only under Reziel’s influence. He made a covenant with the demon, a blood oath. Tell the girl never to regret sending this man to hell. The world is well rid of him.”

The words were like a hammer against her skull, and Cerise’s mind was jarred between the present moment, kneeling on a blood-soaked floor next to the corpse of an apparently evil man and her memories of Troy, of the many times they’d shared as friends while working together to promote the bands she inspired.

She stared down at Troy’s handsome face, as familiar as her own. “I knew him my whole life. He was like family.” She felt ill. She swallowed, sweat dampening her temples and the nape of her neck.

“I considered Reziel my brother once. A close association
doesn’t always reveal an underlying character defect. If anything, it can make it harder to fathom.”

“Then how can we prevent ourselves from being taken in?”

He shrugged. “I’m not certain we can. The only true defense is to trust no one.”

She frowned. “I couldn’t live that way.” The nausea ebbed. She grabbed a length of toilet paper and dabbed her forehead.

“Few people could. In lieu of that, I recommend keeping a blade close at hand and training yourself to move automatically in self-defense. In a fight to the death, there’s no room for sentiment or hesitation.”

“Great,” she mumbled as she stood. She went to the sink and turned on the taps. Cupping water in her hands, she brought it to her mouth, sucked it in, and swished. She spit the water into the sink and rinsed again, feeling a little better. “We should call ES about what happened here, but if we do that, they’ll take Jersey into custody and we won’t get a chance to talk to her about why Troy tried to kill her. She’ll also be stuck here where demons have apparently been hanging out with the highest-ranking members of Etherlin society.”

“No police. With demons involved, we should handle this ourselves.”

“If there’s anything incriminating on this flash drive, it’ll be encrypted. Does Merrick have a computer guy on his payroll? Someone who could get past Troy’s security?”

“Likely he does, and Merrick could be helpful in finding Ileana Rella’s present location.”

“He could?”

“Certainly. Merrick’s job as an enforcer required him to hunt creatures all over the world. Some were quite cunning in their evasive tactics, but Merrick always tracked them down in the end.”

“Alissa said Merrick has arranged for a temporary truce, so he’s got things under control in the Varden for the moment. We can go there.”

Her cell rang. “It’s my sister,” she said, wanting to ignore it. She looked down at Troy’s face and thought of Alissa’s warning. For six weeks, Cerise had pushed Dorie away and possibly
right into Troy’s grasp. Had Dorie’s recent malicious behavior toward Alissa stemmed from Dorie being a victim of Troy’s manipulation?

“I’m going to pack a few things for Jersey and me. I’ll be back in a minute,” Cerise said, walking out of the room. When she was out of earshot, she answered the call.

“Hey,” she said.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’re mad, but I have to tell you—” Dorie’s voice caught.

“Tell me what?” Cerise asked.

“It’s a mess, Cer. It’s a terrible mess. Ileana’s gone. She’s missing. We don’t know for how long. ES thinks—” Dorie’s voice broke again and she started to cry. “They believe that someone else has been holding the cell phones—hers and her security detail’s—and sending the text message check-ins. When the ES director tried calling and insisted on voice communication, there were no more texts.”

Cerise’s heart sank.

“They’re sending a team to Denver where they had their last voice communication, but they say if her security detail didn’t call in after losing their phones, it means her bodyguards must be dead and that someone’s taken her.” Dorie paused, choking on emotion. “Is that fallen angel still with you? If it was a demon who took Ileana, you know he could be involved. Please tell me you’re by yourself and safe,” Dorie said through tears.

“Hush. I’m 100 percent okay.”

“Come home. Please come home right now. I’m scared for you. For all of us. They’re patrolling the outer wall, talking about how they’ll handle it if the ventala try to blow a hole in it.”

“Calm down. No one is going to try to blow a hole in the Etherlin walls. The ventala are fighting with each other. Period. It’s nothing to do with us.” Except for Alissa.

“Will you come home?”

“Yes.”

“Now? Right now?”

“Soon.”

“You have to. Dad’s so worried. We both are. I tried calling
Troy, and he’s not answering, either. He’s going to freak out when he hears. You know how close they are. How close we all are. Ileana’s been like another big sister to me. I can’t believe this could happen.”

Cerise bit her lip. “I have to go for now.”

“No, don’t! Stay on the line with me. Please. I need to hear your voice.”

“I’ll call you back soon. I promise. Right now there’s something I have to do.”

Dorie sniffled.

“Everything will be okay.” As Cerise pulled a suitcase from the closet, she noticed bloodstains on the knees of her pants. She grimaced. “I’ll call you back soon,” she whispered and hung up. Resting her forehead against the closet door, she closed her eyes, feeling close to tears herself. She fought the urge to break down.

“Are you all right?” Lysander asked, his voice close. She didn’t answer. His arms slid around from behind her and pulled her back. She leaned against him, her muscles tight. She couldn’t relax.

“My sister’s really upset, and I hung up on her.”

“Do you think she’s safe where she is?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anyone other than you who can offer her emotional support?”

Cerise nodded. “She’s close to my dad. She can lean on him.” She took a sip of air through pursed lips then blew it out. “But it feels like I should be there. I don’t want to add to their worry and pain, not when Troy’s body’s going to be discovered soon and when Ileana’s been officially declared missing.”

“So it’s official.”

“Yeah,” Cerise said and filled him in.

“I think we’ll do the most good by going to the Varden without delay, but if you want to see your family first, we can stop there.”

She shook her head. “Seeing you with me will only upset them more. If we can find Ileana and return her to the Etherlin, it’ll go a long way to proving to them that you’re not in league with demons.”

They returned to Alissa and Richard’s house to swap Alissa’s sports car for a town car. With Jersey dressed in sweats and wrapped in a blanket in the backseat along with the luggage, Cerise drove to the gates and they forced the ES officers to let them pass.

The drive through the Sliver and the Varden passed without incident. Cerise and Lysander questioned Jersey gently about what had driven Troy to try to kill her. Jersey’s flat-voiced explanation about her secret relationship with Troy and how it led to a near-fatal miscarriage left Cerise speechless and chilled to the bone. Had Griffin realized what Troy had done? Was that why he’d been getting ready to fire him?

As they pulled up to Merrick’s building and saw the line of people waiting to get into Crimson, Cerise murmured, “Wow. It was a war zone last night, tonight bombs exploded, yet here they are.”

She pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car. She and Lysander retrieved the suitcases, and Jersey trailed behind them. As they passed the gathered club-goers, Cerise glanced at the women in slinky dresses and men in slick suits. “I guess if it’s the end of the world as we know it, dancing and drinking isn’t a bad way to finish things off.”