Unforgiven (Fallen, #5)

“No worries,” Jean said, and Cam watched Lilith breathe a sigh of relief. “I can work with a budget. So we’ll meet at three-forty-five and head to the Salvation Army.”


Cam scratched his head. His leather jacket had been handmade in 1509 in Florence by Bartolomeo himself. He’d taken his last pair of boots from a dead American infantryman in a Rhineland field in 1945. His jeans were from the first batch made in 1873 by Levi Strauss. He’d brought them directly to Savile Row to be altered.

Oh, how times had changed.

“I’m in,” Lilith said, just before the bell rang. “Meet you after school. By the way, Cam, I like your new boots.”



“You, come with me, right now.” Tarkenton grabbed Cam by the collar during lunch, when he was hoping to slink off to Rattlesnake Creek. He’d managed to swipe a cool black satin guitar strap at a music shop yesterday, and he wanted to leave it as a gift for Lilith on the antique desk.

“What am I being charged with?” Cam asked as Tarkenton dragged him back inside the cafeteria.

“Failure to fulfill your duties as a member of the prom court. Miss King informs me that you’ve skipped five of the meetings already, and you’re not skipping another on my watch.”

Cam groaned. “Isn’t there some waiver I can sign to opt out? There’s gotta be some other kid who actually wants my spot.”

Tarkenton steered Cam to a table in the center of the cafeteria, where Chloe King was sitting with the other girls in her band and three guys Cam had thus far successfully avoided knowing. They were sharing a pizza, all leaning in together and whispering. Everyone stopped talking as soon as they saw Cam.

“Sit down,” Tarkenton ordered, “shape up, and start brainstorming colors for the balloon banner like a normal teenager.” The principal motioned Cam toward the last empty seat.

“If I sit, will you go away?” Cam muttered as Tarkenton finally disappeared. Immediately, Chloe slid the box of pizza to the center of the table, out of Cam’s reach.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “I’m helping. I’m sure you want to shed some pre-prom pounds. Trust me, you don’t need this pizza.”

“Don’t be mean, Chloe,” joked a square-headed boy named Dean. “Let the fatty have his fix.”

The whole table started laughing. Cam couldn’t care less what these kids thought of him. He only cared about the time they were sucking from him. He should have been either with Lilith or doing something special for her.

Just then, a folded piece of paper dropped onto the table in front of him. Cam looked up and saw Lilith passing by, carrying her lunch tray. She nodded at the note. Cam’s name was written on the outside in black. He unfolded it.

HANG IN THERE….ONLY THREE HOURS TILL OUR FIELD TRIP.



Buoyed with happiness, he turned back to watch Lilith. She had taken a seat at the far end of the cafeteria, next to Jean and Luis. She was eating a bright red apple and laughing. She seemed to feel Cam’s gaze on her and looked over, all the way across the cafeteria, to offer him a dazzling, sympathetic smile.

Chloe could take that pizza and shove it. Lilith’s smile was all the nourishment Cam needed.



After school, Jean’s Honda squealed into the Salvation Army parking lot and shuddered to a stop, straddling two spaces. Cam’s fingers touched Lilith’s as he pulled himself out of the back. When he looked up, she was smiling. It was the same smile she’d given him in the cafeteria, the smile that had helped Cam survive the thirty-five minutes of the prom planning meeting.

Cam had no opinion on where the photo booth should be placed at prom, or whether the DJ should wear a tux or something more casual, or if they needed flowers to decorate the table where the memory books would be signed.

But he did have a strong opinion on getting Lilith to be his date.

Things were going well today, and there was no new sign of Luc meddling, so Cam was feeling optimistic. But he still had work to do. He needed this trip to the Salvation Army to feel as romantic as a trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

“Divide and conquer,” Jean said, beckoning them into the thrift store. The place smelled like mothballs spritzed with cat urine, mixed with a whiff of stale vanilla perfume. “Experiment. Have fun.”

“But remember,” Luis added, holding the door open for Lilith, “we’re looking for costumes that elevate our stage presence.”

Cam glanced at the freshman and laughed. “Whoa. What got into you?”

“I got a prom date,” Luis said, doing a little dance. “No biggie.”

“You finally asked her?” Jean asked, then grinned at Cam. “He’s been drooling over Karen Walker all semester.”