The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Also By

  Dedication

  Quote

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  FALL OF HEROES

  The Galilee Falls Trilogy

  Book Three

  Jennifer Harlow

  Copyright

  Devil on the Left Books

  Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Dowis

  All Rights Reserved

  First Edition

  ISBN-10: 0989394484

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9893944-9-9

  Devil on the Left Books, Peachtree City GA

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the author.

  If you did not purchase this book, please return it and purchase one of your own. Respect the hard work of the author.

  ALSO BY JENNIFER HARLOW

  THE GALILEE FALLS TRILOGY

  In The Beginning…A Galilee Falls Short

  Justice

  Galilee Rising

  Fall of Heroes

  THE F.R.E.A.K.S. SQUAD SERIES

  Mind Over Monsters

  To Catch a Vampire

  Death Takes A Holiday

  High Moon

  The Sin Eater (Out 2016)

  THE MIDNIGHT MAGIC MYSTERY SERIES

  What’s A Witch To Do?

  Werewolf Sings The Blues

  Witch Upon A Star

  A HART & McQUEEN STEAMPUNK ADVENTURE

  Verity Hart Vs. The Vampyres

  For Joe Conte, attorney extrodinare.

  A true crusader for justice.

  With my eternal gratitude.

  “An old Cherokee told his grandson,

  ‘My son there is a battle between two wolves inside us all.

  ‘One is evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies, and ego.

  ‘The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy and truth.’

  The boy thought about it, and asked,

  ‘Grandfather, which wolf wins?’

  The old man replied,

  ‘The one you feed.’”

  -Author Unknown

  I’m alive. Goddamn it, I’m alive. No.

  Staring up at the stars, every centimeter of my body is awash in agony, I attempt to wrap my brain around this disturbing fact. I’m alive. How did this happen? I was ready. More than ready. I wanted to die. I was prepared. I let go. I needed to die.

  I curl into a ball on the sandy shore, my mangled, now non-existent hand tucked inside my torn shirt, and sob until my eyes and lungs scream in pain like the rest of my traitorous body. I haven’t sobbed this hard since Jo told me about my family. Rebecca. Daisy. My sweet Daisy. Murdered because of me. Because of who I am. I was going home to them. To Mom and Dad. Gunshots, a beating, falling thirty stories into a river, and still I live. I failed. Again. Why? Why? Why does God hate me? It was to save her. They know who I am now or soon will. She’ll never be safe again. None of them will. Lucy. Dobbs. Shannon. Every villain will come after them. Lucy’s still unable to leave the mansion without being sedated. And Jo…

  A flash of my best friend holding onto the fence, terrified, seconds away from death because of me, fills my mind. My every sense. A waking nightmare.. I’ve almost broken her so many times before without knowing it. She loved me, and I was too stupid to notice. I flaunted my girlfriends in front of her. I couldn’t…return her love. I lied for years and still she stood by my side. She was ready to give her life for mine. She’s suffered so much for me, and I couldn’t even do this one thing for her. She’d be better off without me.

  When there are no more tears, when I’m done cursing God and my own pathetic ineffectiveness, and I can finally breathe again, I fall onto my back and stare up at the clear, starry sky once more. This is my penance. Life is my penance. For not saving them. For lying to her. For not having the strength to push them all away when I knew the moment I slipped on that mask, the path I chose would lead them all into ruin. To agony. To the arms of death for the simple crime of loving me.

  Never again.

  I know what I have to do. I will have the strength to do it. She’s told me she cannot live without me. She truly believes it. She’s a fighter. A survivor. She’s wrong. I…just don’t know if I can live without her. So many times she’s been my strength. My hope. She always thought I saved her the night we met, but she had it so wrong. So wrong. And now she’ll see that.

  Protocol No Exit.

  Justin Pendergast AKA Justice died tonight. He died saving his best friend. He died showing her what he could never put into words. That she was the most important person in the world to him. That he loved her more than himself. That she was worth the sacrifice.

  That is my penance for my vanity. My weakness. My blindness. To exist in this dark, polluted world with only half my soul. Without hope. Without her.

  God’s justice. It finds us all.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Wedding Bell Blues

  I swear to fucking Christ, if he’s late for this wedding a supervillain won’t kill him, I will.

  If your boyfriend is the premier superhero in the city with the highest concentration of the super-powered in the country, you get used to situations like this. Dinners where you find yourself sitting alone in a restaurant, canceled vacations, missing birthdays. I’ve endured them with a smile and forgiveness, but not today. I’ve stressed to him a thousand times how important this day is to me. Just this morning, before my hair appointment, I told him three times. But no, when I got home to put on my dress, he was nowhere to be found. I had to start up the comms on Doris Jr. to track him down. Sure enough he was out in the field fighting Hexen and more of the villains damn zombies at a war reenactment. Still, he swore he’d be here on time. Trust me, he said. Damn superheroes. Guess it’s partially my fault for falling in love with one. Again. I should have learned the first time around. Damn you for being so amazingly brilliant, Jem Ambrose. Damn you.

  “What are you still doing out here?” my old partner Cam, Detective Terrence Cameron to you, says behind me. I spin around just as he reaches me on the bottom of the church steps. He looks damn fine today, the white shirt off-setting his dark skin, and he’s even sporting the paisley blue silk tie I bought him two Christmases ago. “You should get inside. It’s freezing.”

  “I’m not going inside without him.”

  “You catching pneumonia won’t make him show up any sooner,” Cam points out.

  “If he shows up at all,” I mutter. “Fucking Hexen.”

  “He’ll be here,” Cam insists.

  Two stragglers hustle toward us from the overflowing parking lot. I recognize
the man, former plainclothes now Detective Conover, who worked the Alkaline case with me. He and his date both smile and nod as they pass us up the church steps.

  “Seriously, Jo, come on. The ceremony’s supposed to start soon. And—”

  “I can’t go in there without him, okay? This shit’s awkward enough for me already. Just…I’ll give him a few more minutes then I’ll come in. These things never start on time anyway.”

  “Fine. I’ll just tell everyone…I’ll figure something out.” I nod at my friend who nods back before returning inside the warm church.

  Dead. Jem is so fucking dead. And I get he’s saving people’s lives, I do. Most of the time I’m on the comms in our apartment, guiding him, literally watching his back on the surveillance feed. Hell, I’m the one who suggested he become the new Captain Moonlight. I should have kept my damn mouth shut.

  It’s not as if we had tons of free time on our hands before. I had to cancel my fair share of dinners too. Being the figurehead of an international billion dollar empire with the board meetings, charity events, and general boring day-to-day business bullshit leaves little time to sleep let alone spend quality time with the man I love. Add to that Jem’s day job at the hospital, his research for his new virus project, and the city constantly being in peril from asshole villains, we’re lucky to spend a few hours a week face to face just being a damn couple. At least we make those few precious hours count. And we do work damn well together. Just last week we stopped an eco-terrorist cell from releasing a toxin in the meat packing district that would poison anyone who consumed the meat. If this were any other day I’d be on Doris Jr. helping him bring down Hexen, but this isn’t any other day. He needs to be here. He has to be here. He will be here. He will. Unless of course he’s…no.

  God, why does my mind always go there? I have personally seen him survive multiple gunshots, being impaled by a rod, being beaten to a pulp, and an explosion. He has super-healing, super-intelligence, has a black belt in Judo and Karate, knows Krav Maga, not to mention the suit I commissioned for him is bullet, knife, and flame resistant. But every time I lose contact or he’s a minute late, that is my first damn thought.

  I should be used to this by now. I knew what he was before I fell in love with him. Hell, I had a front row seat to that side of his life. I ended up in the hospital twice because of it, well three times if you count the plastic surgery needed to fix the scar on my face left by his brother. Not to mention the horrible minute when I thought he’d died that day. I lost my soul mate, my best friend to a supervillain, I couldn’t handle another man I loved dying for me.

  We should have learned our lesson then. Jem killed Lord Nightingale right along with his psycho twin brother, and that should have been it. No more capes and cowls. No more kidnappings, attempted murders, and torture for either of us. Yeah, that lasted all of three months. The crime rate skyrocketed again, there was a supervillain attack every week, and despite his assurances he was content fighting crime behind our supercomputer Doris, I knew he was lying. It was in the way he’d stay glued to the computer and news. The way he’d stare out the window down at the city when he couldn’t sleep. How he spent more and more time in his dojo beating up the punching bag and dummy. He couldn’t help it. He’d fought the good fight for almost a decade. Before me, it was all he had. It was what got him out of bed. Something else we had in common. He couldn’t deny that part of himself, it was literally in his blood, and I know the longer he repressed that for me, the more he’d resent me down the road. So one night I shoved his new black and yellow costume at him, and told him I wanted him back before dawn. That was three months ago. Crime’s gone down twenty-two percent, two new villains are now rotting in Xavier Maximum Security Prison, they’ve just released the new Captain Moonlight action figure, and I’m freezing my ass off worrying about the man I love. Doing the right thing sucks balls.

  Shit. He’s not coming. He’s not. I’m going to have to go in there and face all those people alone. All their whispering, their looks, their stares. How am I going to explain his absence? Fuck. Damn it. I need to get in there. Me being out here just looks worse. With a sigh, I start up the steps. Jem Ambrose you are—

  “Joanna!”

  Here. Thank Christ. Never had a doubt.

  I spin back around and just like that, with one look at him, all my anger vanishes, replaced with pure love. I even smile. Oh, he must have worn his suit under the costume it’s so creased and wrinkled. His curly dark brown hair isn’t much better with three cowlicks in back and tendrils plastered to his forehead. Looking at this skinny, pale, disheveled man no one would ever believe he could fend off an army of zombies or take down a supervillain. I didn’t either at first. Of course now I regularly get to see him with those clothes off. There’s nothing stringy or weak about him, just firmly defined muscles as sharp as his cheekbones. And a great ass. I’ve literally bounced a quarter off it. And it’s all mine.

  “I’m sorry,” Jem says, rushing up to me. “I’m so sorry. Am I late? I—”

  I silence his words with a sweet kiss. “You’re just in time. As always.” A huge grin stretches across his face bright enough to blind lesser humans. I smile back and straighten his tie. “Bad guy caught?”

  “Down with one punch. Zombies took some doing, though. And the costume’s a goner. It reeks.”

  “You’re a little ripe yourself. Here.” I open my purse and remove my perfume, squirting him. “It’ll have to do. If anyone asks, we’ll say you were in the cadaver lab.”

  “You think of everything, my love,” he says, smile growing.

  I reach inside my purse again and retrieve his spare pair of horn-rimmed glasses. “Yes, I do. You are damn lucky to have me, Jem Ambrose.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He slides the glasses on, sadly hiding those breathtaking sapphire blue eyes of his. “So, how do I look? Am I presentable?”

  “Good enough.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “No time for ego stroking,” I say, grabbing his hand. “The ceremony’s about to start. Come on.”

  I drag him through the church doors and down the aisle to the third pew where Cam and his wife Tawney are saving our seats. A few people do stare and whisper, but I don’t give a shit anymore. Mirabelle and his wife both nod as we sit. Oh thank Christ, it hasn’t started yet. Harry O’Hara, my old boss and ex-boyfriend, stands at the front of the church as his best man fixes the groom’s tie. I must catch his eye because when Harry faces forward, he smiles at me. I smile back. Yes, the woman who faced down two supervillains was afraid to walk into her ex-boyfriend’s wedding alone. I’m a damn mystery to me too.

  I’m forgotten seconds later when the music swells and Bella Harding begins walking down the aisle. Definitely an upgrade from yours truly. She isn’t in love with another man like I was when I dated Harry. And if she ever cheats on him like I did, I will make her pay. But she won’t. She’s good people just like him. I even heard she’s four months pregnant. Alls well and all that jazz.

  And as my hard won friend pledges his eternal love to his blushing bride, I slip my hand into the man I love’s hand and hold on. Not that he’s going anywhere. For better or worse, he’s all mine. And I don’t have a doubt we’ll live happily ever after too.

  Me and my hero.

  *

  “No, it was seven,” Jem says on the ride home. “Tawney asked twice.”

  “All I know is if one more person asked us ‘When’s the wedding?’ I was gonna scream,” I reply.

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Well we were spared the biological clock countdown lecture at least,” I say. “Why is it so hard for people to believe not every couple wants kids? That there’s no need for us to rush down the aisle too? Hell, why get married at all nowadays?”

  “I don’t know. Standing before those closest to you pledging your fidelity and love to the person you treasure most in his world? That’s a good reason, no?”

  He’s trying to keep his face neu
tral, but I can sense his discomfort prickling my skin. Can’t have that. I wrap my arm in his and rest my head on his shoulder. “How on earth did I end up with a true romantic?”

  “Just lucky I guess.”

  “Damn straight.”

  The taxi pulls up to our apartment building, and Jem supports me as I hobble—damn heels—to the elevator. Not to be rude, and because my romantic boyfriend loves to dance, we stayed until the end of the reception. My feet are punishing me for it now. Oh, all I want is a shower and to crawl into bed. One stop to make first. Jem rides all the way up to the penthouse floor, but I make a pit-stop two floors down. Dobbs opens his front door with a smile.

  After I got out of the hospital six months ago, Jem brought me back to his apartment to take care of me, and I just never left. I never felt comfortable in Pendergast Manor. Too many ghosts, too many memories. It was really only mine in name only. Besides my clothes and a few DVDs and superhero goodies, I only brought one thing with me: Dobbs, the butler. There was no way in hell I was leaving him alone in that mausoleum, so I bought him an apartment in our building. It took a week to convince him to actually move in, but he’s flourished since. He still insists on cleaning our apartment, once a butler always a butler I guess, but he’s actually ventured out into the world. Going to movies, attending the symphony, I even think he had a coffee date with one of the ladies from his pottery class. Even his trips to the manor have grown further apart number.

  I haven’t decided what I’ll do with the manor yet. Jem and I still use the “Chamber of Justice” as Jem calls it, when we need to do analysis on evidence, but we can semi-easily move all the equipment to a new location. And it’s not like I haven’t had offers to buy it, including one from the city to turn it into a historical landmark, I just…can’t. Not yet. Like Pendergast Industries, and Dobbs, Justin entrusted me with its curation. With his family’s legacy. The man gave his life for me, not letting a developer tear down his ancestral home to build condos is the least I can do. And in a way it was my home too. My sanctuary growing up. Where some of my happiest memories occurred. Some of the worst too. But that’s the past. Justin’s dead, and Justice has been replaced. But I’ll be damned if they’re forgotten.