Unforgiven (Fallen, #5)

He flew fast and never looked back, so he never saw Lucifer step from the shadows and take Lilith’s hand.

Lilith stared at the pale, freckled hand in hers. Her breath came shallowly. “He’s gone,” she gasped. “I left everything. For nothing.”

“Come along,” the devil said. “I kept my end of the bargain. It is time for you to keep yours.”





Twenty-Three Hours

Lilith’s headphones were blaring.

She lay on her stomach on her bedspread, scribbling lyrics in her journal for a new song called “Famous for a Broken Heart.” It was one in the morning. She was tired, but she knew she’d never sleep. She kept replaying the conversation she’d had with Cam at the café.

He’d made a bet that he could make her fall in love with him. Like she had no free will, like she was just a coin to be tossed.

Had Cam almost won that bet? She had felt something deep and strong for him. Was it love? Maybe, but she could never love a guy who treated her like a game to be won.

Suddenly, Lilith heard a sound that wasn’t part of the Four Horsemen song in her headphones. It was coming from outside. Someone was knocking at her window. She turned her music off and raised the blinds.

Cam’s leather jacket was zipped up, and he was wearing that knit hat she liked. Beneath its brim, his green eyes pleaded as he motioned for her to open the window.

She slid the pane up and stuck her head out. “My mom will kill you if she finds out you trampled her weeds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Otherwise you’ll lose the bet, right?” she said. “Remind me how many hours I have to fall madly in love with you?”

She looked past her lawn to the street, where a vintage black Honda motorcycle was parked, two helmets dangling from its handlebars. The bike looked expensive. Lilith studied Cam, remembering him strolling among the tents on Dobbs Street. How could he afford a motorcycle? He was a walking contradiction, but Lilith wasn’t going to let it drive her crazy anymore.

“It’s late,” she said. “I’m tired. And you’re the last person I want to see right now.”

“I know,” Cam said. “Lilith, I need you—”

“You don’t need me.” She didn’t like when he said things like that. If she wasn’t careful, she’d believe him.

Cam glanced down at his boots and sighed. When he looked up a moment later, his green eyes had taken on an intensity that made Lilith hold her breath. “I will always need you, Lilith. For many reasons. Right now, I need you to come with me.”

“Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“So I can tell you the truth.”

She’d been tricked before. “Tell me right here,” Lilith said, standing her ground.

“So I can show you the truth,” Cam corrected himself. “Please,” he said softly, “give me one more chance to show you that my feelings for you are real—then, if you don’t believe me, you’ll never have to see me again. Fair?”

She studied his face and realized how familiar his features had become over the past two weeks. The first time she’d seen him at Rattlesnake Creek, he had been so different from anyone she’d ever met; he’d seemed more like a figment of her imagination than a real guy. But now she knew him. She knew he licked his lips when he was thinking, and the way his eyes twinkled when he was listening really closely. She knew the way his hands felt in hers and how smooth his skin was just above the collar of his T-shirt.

“One more chance,” she said.



A dark gloom hung over Rattlesnake Creek.

Lilith’s heart raced as Cam guided her deep into the forest, toward her favorite spot. She’d never been here so late, and it was eerily exciting.

Branches cracked as she stepped along the familiar path and turned into the clearing where her carob tree stood. For a moment, she didn’t recognize it. Her tree had been decorated with strands of soft, twinkling red and yellow lights.

Beneath it, a boy with dreadlocks was arranging a bouquet of irises on the antique desk Cam had given her. Lilith thought she recognized him.

When a thin girl with a shaved head and orange false eyelashes ran to Lilith and stuck out her hand, Lilith knew where she’d seen them both before. The café, with Cam, earlier that night.

“I’m Arriane,” the girl said. “That’s Roland. Glad you could make it.”

“What’s going on?” Lilith asked Cam.

“First?” Cam said. “A toast.”

Roland knelt by the bank of the creek and fished out a bottle of champagne. He reached beneath the desk and produced two champagne flutes, then opened the bottle with a pop. He filled the glasses with the fizzy liquid and handed one to Lilith. “Salud.”

“To second chances,” Cam said, and raised his glass.

“We’re on at least fifth or sixth chances by now,” Lilith said, but she clinked his glass anyway.

“Saucy!” Arriane called. “I like it.”