Unforgiven fallen book 5, p.22
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Unforgiven (Fallen Book 5), page 22

 

Unforgiven (Fallen Book 5)
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  His lips seemed made for hers. Why had it taken them so long to get here? They could have been kissing just like this all along. They should stay kissing, just like this, until—

  “Lilith,” he whispered as their lips parted. “Lilith, Lilith, Lilith.”

  “Cam,” she replied. She felt light-headed. A cool breeze whipped around them, tossing her hair, and before she knew it Lilith felt the ground beneath her feet.

  “Now you can open your eyes,” he said, and she did. Up close, Cam’s were flecked with gold and ringed by an even deeper green. She couldn’t stop staring at them.

  “Was that dancing?” she asked breathlessly. “Or flying?”

  Cam wrapped both arms around her waist. “When it’s done right,” he said, touching his forehead against hers, “there isn’t any difference.”

  Four Hours

  Cam climbed out of the backseat of the old stretch limousine Roland had mysteriously scrounged up for the evening. He mounted the concrete steps to Lilith’s front door and listened to the locusts zap against the porch light. His heart drummed as he reached to ring her bell.

  Self-doubt had never been Cam’s style. It clashed with his leather jacket, his original Levi’s, his cool green eyes. But now, as the sun sulked behind the burning hills and a cold wind claimed the streets, he wondered: Had he done enough?

  A few band practices. A few arguments. One exquisite kiss. To Cam, every moment had brimmed with passion. But would Lilith recognize it as love?

  Because if she didn’t…

  She would. She had to. Tonight.

  Arriane flung open the door, fists on her hips, her fine eyebrows arched. “She’s ready!” she sang. “Her updo will be the stuff of legend, but I’m most pleased with my alterations to her dress. Hey, they don’t call me Arriane Alter for nothin’.” She looked over her shoulder. “Bruce, bring out the babe.”

  A moment later, Lilith’s brother rounded the hallway corner wearing his dinosaur-print pajamas. On his arm was Lilith, all dressed up. Cam held his breath as she walked toward him with slow, measured steps, meeting his eyes the whole time. That dress, and the dreamy look in her eyes, took him right back to the wedding they’d never had.

  She was luminous. Her red hair had been braided a dozen ways, all swirled together in a high shaggy twist. Her eyelids were shimmering green, her lips crimson and matte. She wore black vintage ankle-high motorcycle boots. She was lethal.

  She let go of Bruce’s hand and spun in a slow, sexy circle. “How do I look?”

  When she stopped in front of him, Cam took her hands. She had the softest skin he’d ever known. “You look so good, it ought to be illegal.”

  “No costume for you?” Lilith asked, smoothing the lapel of Cam’s leather jacket. “Jean’s going to be pissed, but I think you look smokin’.”

  “Smokin’?” he laughed. When Lilith looked at him that way, Cam could forget that his muscles had lost their definition, that his skin was paper-thin, that his hair was falling out and his hooves made it hard for him to walk. Lilith saw him differently than the rest of her world did, because she cared for him, and hers was the only opinion that mattered.

  “Cam, do you mind if…,” Lilith said nervously. “Would it be okay if I properly introduced you to my mom? She’s kind of old-fashioned, and it would mean a lot—”

  “No problem. Moms love me,” Cam lied. Mothers of teenage girls could usually smell the bad boy in Cam right away. But for Lilith, he would do anything.

  “Mom?” Lilith called, and a moment later her mother appeared in the hall. She wore a pink terry-cloth bathrobe that was stained and worn thin. Her hair was pulled back messily with a plastic clip. She touched it fretfully, teasing out a little strand.

  “Mrs. Foscor.” Cam extended his hand. “I’m Cameron Briel. We met once before, when you were taking Bruce to the hospital, but I’m glad to see you again. I want to thank you.”

  “For what?” Lilith’s mother asked.

  “For raising a remarkable daughter,” he said.

  “Anything you like in her is probably just her rebelling against me,” her mother said, and then, to Cam’s amazement, she laughed. “She does look beautiful, though, doesn’t she?”

  “The stuff of love songs,” Cam said.

  When he glanced at Lilith, her eyes were damp; Cam understood how rare praise from her mother must have been.

  “Thank you,” Lilith said, embracing her mom, then her brother. “We won’t be out too late.”

  “Don’t you want to come see Lilith perform?” Cam asked Lilith’s mom.

  “I’m sure we’d only embarrass her,” her mother said.

  “No,” Lilith said. “Please come.” She glanced at Cam. “I don’t know, do you think they let non-students into prom?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Arriane chimed in, pulling at the neck of her black V-neck shirt. “I know a guy who knows a guy who can get us all front-row seats.”

  “That’s very generous,” Lilith’s mom said. “I’ll go get dressed. You too, Bruce.”

  When her family had disappeared into their rooms, Cam turned to Lilith. “Shall we?”

  “Wait,” she said. “I forgot my guitar.”

  “You might need that,” Cam said. “I’ll wait outside.”

  He stepped onto the porch, Arriane following behind him. She patted his cheek. “I’m proud of you, Cam. And inspired by you. Ain’t that right, Ro?”

  “Right on.” Roland called from the open window of the limousine. He was wearing a sharp-looking tuxedo with a navy bow tie.

  “Thank you, guys,” Cam said.

  “Regardless of what happens tonight,” Arriane added.

  “You still have no faith that I can win?” Cam asked.

  Arriane scampered to catch up with him. “It’s just, on the off chance that you don’t—”

  “What she means is,” Roland said, getting out of the car and coming up behind Cam, “we’d miss you, man.” He leaned against Lilith’s front porch’s rusty railing and gazed up at the sky. “Won’t you miss her?”

  “Because if you lose,” Arriane said, “she’ll be back to snow-globe Purgatory, and you…” Arriane shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about what Lucifer will have you doing.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Cam said. “Because I’m not going to lose.”

  Arriane sank onto the hood of the limo, and Roland climbed back into the driver’s seat. The front door opened, and Lilith stepped out, bathed in moonlight, holding her guitar.

  “Can you handle one more accessory?” Cam asked, pulling a small white box from his pocket.

  Lilith opened it and smiled when she saw the blue and yellow irises pinned to the small elastic band.

  Gently, Cam slipped the flower onto Lilith’s wrist. Their fingers intertwined.

  “No one’s ever given me a corsage,” Arriane said longingly.

  Then something landed at her feet with a thump. Arriane jumped back in alarm, then looked down and saw a small white box identical to the one Cam had given Lilith. She smiled.

  “You’re welcome,” Roland called from the driver’s seat. “Now get in, kids; you’re wasting valuable prom time.”

  At the edge of Trumbull’s campus, Cam helped Lilith climb out of the limo. Small groups of done-up kids hung out on the hoods of cars in the parking lot, dressed in their finest dresses and suits, but most of the action seemed to be coming from the football field, where Luc had constructed the replica Colosseum.

  Like its Roman model, it was open to the elements, with three tiers of tall arches around the exterior. As Cam studied it, he realized there was something slapdash about the structure. Instead of being made of limestone, it was formed entirely of packed ash from the fires of Lilith’s Hell, like cheap concrete. It drove home to Cam how temporary this was—the evening; the school; the small, sad world of Crossroads.

  Lilith gazed at the venue before them, and Cam knew she saw none of the things that worried Cam. To Lilith, it was just another ugly building in her ugly town.

  Bass thumped through the walls. “It’s no Rattlesnake Creek,” Lilith said, “but I guess we’ll make do.”

  “We can do better than that,” Cam said. “We can rock this place so hard its walls come tumbling down. It’ll be the fall of Rome all over again.”

  “My, you’re ambitious,” Lilith teased, taking his arm.

  “Thanks for the lift, Roland.” Cam turned to the demon, who closed the limo door behind him.

  “Break a leg, brother,” Roland called to his friend.

  Cam and Lilith entered the faux Colosseum through a long arch made of gold and silver balloons. On the other side they found the party in full swing. Students clustered around candlelit cocktail tables, laughing, flirting, snacking on cheese cubes, and sipping punch. Others danced to fast pop songs on a big parquet dance floor that was open to the stars.

  Cam’s gaze was drawn to the back of the Colosseum, where a grand stage had been erected, rising twenty feet above the rest of prom. Red velvet curtains created a backstage area where the other bands could wait before they played. Off to one side was a small judges’ table over which hung a banner: TRUMBULL PREP WELCOMES THE FOUR HORSEMEN.

  Lilith nudged Cam and pointed at the dance floor. “Check out Luis.”

  Cam followed her finger to find their drummer, wearing a white tuxedo and strutting like a chicken around Karen Walker, who was burying her face in her hands.

  “Work it, Luis!” Lilith called out.

  “What?” Luis shouted at her over the music. “This is my jam. I need to move my feet.”

  Just then, Dean Miller walked up to Lilith and Cam. He wore a dark tux with a thin black tie that ran like a stripe down his chest. “Tarkenton’s been looking for you all night.” He handed Cam a folded blue cloth. “Prom court. You have to wear it. You’d know that if you’d bothered to show up to our last meeting.”

  Lilith buried a laugh in the crook of her elbow as Cam held up a pastel-blue satin sash with his name printed across it in white block letters. Dean wore a matching sash over his tux that read Dean Miller.

  “Great.” Cam raised the sash. “Good luck tonight, man.”

  “Thanks, but unlike you, I don’t need it,” Dean said with a smirk as Chloe King came up and slipped her arm through his.

  “Dean, I need you for a photo—”

  “Chloe,” Lilith said. “Hi.”

  Chloe looked at Lilith’s dress, clearly impressed. “Did you hire a stylist or something? Because you actually look nice.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Lilith said. “You look nice, too.”

  Chloe turned to Cam and narrowed her eyes. “You’d better treat her right,” she said before leading Dean away.

  “Since when are you and Chloe King friends?” Cam asked.

  “I don’t know if I’d say friends,” Lilith said, “but we hashed some stuff out the other day. She’s not so bad. And she’s right.” Lilith raised an eyebrow. “You’d better treat me right.”

  “I know,” Cam said. It was the thing he felt most committed to in the universe.

  Lilith took his blue prom-court sash and pitched it into a nearby trash can. “Now that that’s settled, let’s make a plan.” She glanced at her watch. “The battle starts in twenty minutes. I think we have time for a dance before we have to get ready.”

  “You’re the boss,” Cam said, drawing Lilith close and moving toward the dance floor.

  Luckily the next song was a slow one, the kind that seemed to make everyone want to wrap their arms around someone. Soon, Lilith and Cam were surrounded by couples, the dance floor bright with jewel-colored dresses and elegantly contrasting tuxedos. Kids Cam had passed a dozen times in the forgettable halls of Trumbull now looked extraordinary under the starlight, smiling as they swayed to the music. It tormented Cam that everyone here felt like they were on the brink of everything, when in fact they were only on the brink of the end.

  He drew Lilith close. He focused on her only. He loved the light touch of her fingers on his shoulders. He loved the way her iris corsage smelled against her skin and the heat of her against him. He closed his eyes and let the rest of Crossroads disappear, imagining they were alone together.

  They had only danced together once before last night at Rattlesnake Creek, in Canaan, by the river, right after Cam had proposed. He remembered how Lilith had seemed featherlight that first time they had danced, rising off the ground with the slightest sway of Cam’s body.

  She felt the same right now. Her feet skimmed the dance floor, and she looked up at Cam with pure delight in her eyes. She was happy. He could feel it. He was, too. He closed his eyes and let his memory take them back to Canaan, where they’d once been so open and free.

  “I love you,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

  “What’d you say?” Lilith shouted, her voice barely louder than the music. “You’re looking for the bathroom?” She pulled away and glanced around, looking for signs for the men’s room.

  “No, no,” Cam said, drawing her back into his arms, wishing he hadn’t spoiled the mood. “I said”—but he couldn’t, not now, not yet—“I said nice moves.”

  “Enjoy ’em while they last,” she shouted. “We gotta get backstage.”

  The song ended, and everyone turned toward the stage as Tarkenton strode up the steps. He wore a navy tuxedo with a red rose pinned to his lapel. He tweaked his mustache and nervously cleared his throat as he approached the microphone.

  “All contestants in tonight’s Battle of the Bands should now have reported backstage,” he said, casting his gaze around the prom. “This is the last call for all contestants in the Battle of the Bands. Please use the door at stage left.”

  “We’re cutting it close,” Lilith said, grabbing Cam’s hand and pulling him through the throng of students, closer to the stage.

  “Don’t I know it,” Cam muttered to himself.

  They cut left, scooting around a girl and boy who were kissing as if they were the only ones in the room, then finding the black door at stage left where the contestants were supposed to check in.

  Cam held it open for Lilith. On the other side was a dimly lit, narrow hallway.

  “This way.” Lilith took his hand, gesturing to a poster with an arrow. They took a left and then a right, then found the row of dressing rooms with labeled doors: Love and Idleness, Death of the Author, the Perceived Slights, the Four Horsemen, and, at the end of the hall, Revenge. Lilith turned the knob.

  Inside, Luis sat in a director’s chair, shoveling peanut M&M’s into his mouth, his feet up on a vanity. He had changed into a black cowboy shirt and white slacks, with a black fedora tilted low. His eyes were closed, and he was rehearing the backup harmonies to “Somebody’s Other Blues” under his breath.

  On a couch in the corner, Jean was making out with his girlfriend Kimi, who looked great in her long cranberry satin dress. He broke away from their kiss for a moment to look up and give Cam and Lilith a peace sign.

  “Ready to rock, man?” he said, adjusting the tan leather fringed vest he’d found at the Salvation Army.

  Behind them, Cam’s guitar was propped against Jean’s synth, next to Jean and Luis’s tuxedos, which had been removed and hung up carefully—clearly by Jean’s girlfriend.

  Kimi stood up and straightened her dress. “Time for me to scoot,” she said. From the dressing-room door, she blew Jean a kiss. “Make me proud.”

  Jean reached up to catch the air kiss, which made Cam and Lilith burst out laughing.

  “It’s our thing,” Jean said. “Do I make fun of you guys for getting into fights every fifteen minutes? I do not, because that’s your thing.”

  Cam glanced at Lilith. “We haven’t fought in at least half an hour.”

  “We’re overdue,” Lilith agreed. Then she put her hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Hey, thanks for putting up with all of our drama.”

  “Nah,” Jean said. “You should see how Kimi gets when I don’t return her texts in under sixty seconds.”

  “It’s prom!” Luis said. “When in the history of the world has the lead-up to prom not inspired major drama?” He pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket and practiced a drum roll on his thighs.

  “Two minutes to show,” a voice called from the hallway. Cam leaned his head out to find Luc idling outside with a clipboard and a headset. He flashed Cam a lupine grin and lowered his voice to its true pitch. “You ready for this, Cambriel?”

  “Born ready,” Cam said. Of course, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t even felt close to ready to win the wager against Lucifer until he’d held Lilith in his arms last night.

  The devil laughed, popping a few of the lightbulbs in the ceiling with a cackle so grating it was inaudible to everyone but Cam. His voice went back to its fake smoothness when he announced, “All bands, report to your positions in the wings.”

  Cam came back into the dressing room and closed the door, hoping the others couldn’t tell he was riled. He glanced at Luis in the mirror. The drummer’s complexion had turned sallow.

  “You okay?” Cam asked.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Luis said.

  “I told you not to eat all those M&M’s,” Jean said, shaking his head.

  “It’s not that.” Luis was breathing shallowly, resting his palms on the vanity. “None of you guys get stage fright?”

  “I do,” Lilith said, and Cam looked over to find her trembling. “Two weeks ago I would never have thought I’d be standing here. Now that I am, I want to be great. I don’t want to screw up because I’m nervous. I don’t want to throw it all away.”

  “The thing about performing music no one’s heard before,” Jean said, tucking his Moog under his arm, “is no one knows if you screw up.”

 
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