Already Dead: The Fallen Angel Series, #4

By S C Cunningham

Kind erthfolk agree a deathbed deal to hang around a bit longer, become invisible, and protect the vulnerable they've left behind. Awakening to find themselves in a hi-tech MI6-esque crime unit surfing our planet, they have to wonder if they made the right choice?

They don't like rules, have sex in the skies, and kill more than they save.  Which is not a good look for an angel.

Their defence? 'If criminals don't live by the rules, then why the hell should we?'

Their bosses aren't happy. They may end up below ground. And just as things couldn't get any worse, David Howard of The David Trilogy joins the unit.

How the hell does a playboy serial killer gain access to a celestial crime unit? Why isn't he in hell? What does he know? Who owes him a favour? With spies, illicit affairs, and family drama, it's probably best not to ask.

The heaven-hell balance is changing, and we humans are stuck right in the middle.

AUTHOR

Having worked in the industries she writes about, British crime writer and crime investigator SCCunningham creates (crossover/standalone) thrillers, crime, steamy romance, family drama, and urban fantasy, with a skilled mix of sizzling tension, fuelled humor, and thought-provoking authority, rare in fiction. Her novels are attracting Hollywood attention.

An ex-model, British-born of Irish roots she married rock musician saxophonist Raphael (Raf) Ravenscroft (Pink Floyd, Marvin Gaye, Abba, America, Tina Turner, Mike Oldfield, Chris Rea, Robert Plant, Gerry Rafferty, 'Baker Street' sax intro), and has worked in the worlds of music, film, sports, celebrity management, children's charity, and crime (CID, RIT, LRT, Crime Investigations. Wanted & Absconder Unit. MCT Intel Analyst).

REVIEWS

'What if all we know about good and evil is only the surface of the truth?'
"Loved this, it has a Warehouse 13, Reaper, Fringe, Torchwood, Heroes, Shadow Hunters, Women of the Otherworld, and Breakout Kings vibe"
'Wow is this hard-hitting!'
'A special team guards us, but they don't look and act like you'd think they would.'
'A unique twist on the classic Heaven and Hell tale'
'Blissfully raw, absolutely perfect. 5 Stars!'
'Wow! Makes a great film. Raw, edgy, and completely addictive'
'There is romance and it's definitely of the sizzling variety with a very hot chemistry'
'Dispensing justice among the living in a way that nobody notices. A whisper here, a suggestion there, a shove, or an intervention at the right time.'
'It plays like a film and is an exciting trip to an originally created world.'
'The concept is great, love the author's storytelling. She has a fantastic imagination bringing it to life.'
'What if angels are simply enhanced humans who made deals with the higher powers?'
'Siobhan's writing style is easy and faultless, I wanted to jump into the pages and be part of it'
'Download this one today, don't get left behind!'
'I liked the premise that Good struggles with Evil, and that the lines between the two are sometimes blurred'
'Fast-paced, witty comments mixed with an almost "thinking-out-loud" style that moves the reader through the story quickly'
'I loved this wonderful real-life prose in a world that could be real life, who are we to know! You won't be disappointed'
'This surprised me. It has such promise as a series. Will truly be one of those magical books that are a must-read'
'So descriptive I felt as if I was reading line for line an investigative report.'

THE FALLEN SERIES - standalone

The Deal
Karma
The Calling
Already Dead
They Know

• Language: English
• Publisher: S C Cunningham
• Release date: Aug 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223991786

S C Cunningham

British Author of psychological thrillers, steamy romance, contemporary supernatural, and crime dramas, with a skilled mix of fueled tension, dark humor, and pulsating passion. Her works offer a fresh level of sincerity and authority, rare in fiction. As a respite from the grime of crime she writes illustrates and narrates children's books. The Ginormous Series teaches important life messages. She also writes The How-To Series; Write That Book, and Feel Good. An ex-model, British-born of Irish roots, she married a rock musician and has worked in the exciting worlds of music, film, celebrity management, and Crime (CID Crime Investigator - Wanted & Absconder Unit - Major Crime Team, Intel Analyst). REVIEWS “Hard-hitting, powerful, this rom thriller has it all; sex, murder, power, glamour, secrets, lies, revenge, wicked laugh out loud. No wonder this one's going to Hollywood.” “Gripping Story - I admire this author, she isn't afraid to push the boundaries.” “Holy Shit is all I can say!!! These books are going to make AMAZING films!!!”  “Pick it up when you have plenty of time because you won't want to put it down.” “50 shades crossed with Martina Cole.” “I read a lot of books, this book moves up to one of my top 5 reads.” “My God you shocked my shoes off. Excellent work!” “I read this book in 3 days, you just don't want to stop reading.” “Had me reading to the small hours. Gripping!" “Powerful emotional writing with bags of tension, a classic psychological thriller. Loved it.” “I raise a glass, I'd love to meet anyone who writes like this.” “Blown away to the point of speechless. Shocking, vivid, bloody well written!!” “This reminds me a little of American Psycho only so very much better!” “A talented writer, I WANT MORE!” www.sccunningham.com

Book preview

CORRESPONDENCE

THE DEAL

Dear Heavens, I was taken by a bad man and got away, but the next girl didn’t. If I promise to be good and do my best, when I die can I sit on a cloud for a while, be invisible, have superpowers, and get the baddies that slip through your fingers?

Amy Fox, age 4 yrs.

Dear Heavens, thank you for keeping our deal.

To be honest I’d forgotten all about it, I was only four! Just so you know, it’s not working. There are way too many rules up here. If criminals don’t play by them,  then why the hell should we?

What’cha gonna do, kill me?

I’m already dead.

Amy Fox, age 32 yrs.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

It’s a numbers game - upon death the sum of good and bad deeds directs where one goes next, above or below ground.

Erthfolk - live on erth, they have no idea that invisible entities (the Fallen and Witnesses) walk among them.

The Fallen - are ex-erthfolk who made a deal on their deathbed to join a protection unit in the skies. They track-trace criminals, dish out tough karma, and help the underdog. They supply unaware courts and police with anonymous tip-offs, supportive evidence, and nudges in the right direction. However, they’re not perfect. They don’t like rules, have sex in the skies, kill more than they save, and often wonder if erthfolk are worth it.

Witnesses – are also ex-erthfolk. Soul-scavengers, they can be found at deathbeds, places of ill repute, and crime scenes. They encourage temptation and bad choices, in the hopes of dragging bodies below ground to increase their numbers.

The Erth Unit – are brave, under-the-radar, erthfolk, a covert mix of MI6 and unhappy police who tackle injustices. They concentrate on valid cases that fail at court and point the odd villain in the right direction to meet their maker.

Drama – the Fallen and Witness have worked alongside each other for millennia, but when affairs, jealousies, traitors, and family feuds, surface, heaven and hell teeter out of balance, with erth stuck in the middle.

Pronunciations -

Erth - Earth

Qyl - Kill

Aexss - Axe

Eilen - Eye len

Micael - Mi kai el

PyRat - Pirate

MOTIVE

Hotel Room, Covent Garden, London, UK

On all fours, dragging cut stinging knees across cold marble, she crawled to the bathroom door, reached up and turned the lock.

Falling back against the doorframe, she closed her eyes and listened to the boisterous male laughter and girl’s pained cries that seeped from the bedroom.

‘Stop! No!’ the girl wailed, shouting over music and the chorus of male voices, grunting, groaning, egging each other on.

It was her turn next.

Her heart quickened as black mascara rivulets trailed her cheeks.

At least they knew not to damage her face, she was due on air in two hours.

CHAPTER 1

East London, UK

Exhausted, she finally stopped running. It’d been hours she could go no further, and to be honest, she didn’t care anymore.

Glancing over her shoulder the moonlit street lay still, lined with the parked cars of owners tucked up in bed sleeping, blissfully unaware.

She couldn’t see or hear them, but that didn’t mean anything, ‘they’ had the ability to appear out of nowhere.

Maybe she’d lost them.

Maybe they’d lost interest.

Maybe with mission completed she wasn’t needed.

Maybe she was free.

Maybe she could stop.

Maybe the nightmare was over.

Maybe this was just a fucked-up dream.

She turned, stood hands on hips, and stared at the far-off skyline, the scene she’d left behind.

Helicopters circled rooftops as emergency service lights pulsed the night sky.

Not much sleep would be had in that part of town tonight. And tomorrow it would be all over the papers.

‘What now?’ she breathed.

Silence.

She leaned forward and retched.

CHAPTER 2

Cloud 9, Fallen Unit UK HQ, Erth Skies

David Howard barged through the double doors. New recruit, Daphne, popped her head out from behind one of the Stonehenge’esque circle of work screens.

‘Err, c c can I help you?’ she stammered, unnerved, taking in the handsome, dishevelled male in a crumpled, bloodied, hospital gown, wandering around the office.

‘I ‘effin hope so,’ he growled, resting a hand to his pained chest, his darting eyes scouting the empty office.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Err, n n no one’s here,’ she faltered, anxiously following him. ‘Sir, this is a private office, you can’t come in here.’

Fresh from the youth unit, having been raised from an egg, she had a lot to learn about life, death, and erthfolk. And she certainly hadn’t encountered erthfolk wandering into their offices before. Was he alive, or dead, or dreaming?

He ignored her, walked past the vast screens to the hot desk area, it was empty. A glass wall of headshots filled the end of the room, slow moving soft clouds rolled behind them.

‘Doesn’t it make you seasick working up here in this fishbowl, with all these clouds drifting around you?’ he muttered.

‘No, not really, I quite like it, it’s soothing,’ Daphne stared out at them, lost in their magic for a moment. ‘Look, you really must leave, sir, we don’t allow guests up here.’

‘What about when there’s a storm, does it get bumpy?’

‘No, storms don’t reach this high up. Sir, please leave!’

‘No,’ he barked, staggering into the kitchen area.

Daphne gaped at him, slightly taken aback by his rudeness. She bit the end of her pencil, something was familiar about him.

‘I know you,’ she whispered, squinting at him, trying to remember. She’d felt his energy before, evocative, animal, predatory, shouty, demanding.

He wasn’t a fallen, maybe he was witness. She followed him as he lurched around the kitchen. He’d been there before, he knew his way around.

‘Probably,’ he muttered, opening cabinets, searching for something to dull the pain. He spotted a bottle of chilled champagne and glass resting in an ice bucket at the end of the countertop.

‘This’ll do,’ he grinned.

‘No, it won’t, don’t you dare!’ Daphne squealed, rushing over to stop him. ‘That’s Maggie’s champagne, she’s scary, she’ll kill me.’

‘I don’t want for frighten you girl, but you’re already dead,’ he chuckled, lifting the bottle out of her reach.

‘I know, it’s a strange thing my bosses say,’ she shrugged, opening the fridge door to offer him a compromise, pointing at a selection of beer belonging to Pyke and Jack. They would be kinder to her.

‘Beer is not going to do it for me I’m afraid, darlin,’ he grinned, shaking his head. ‘I need to get fucked.’

Already tearing at the bottle, he stripped off the foil and removed the cage with bloodied fingers. Holding the cork in one hand, and twisting the bottle with the other, he gave it a quick shake in Daphne’s direction. She jumped back with an excited squeal as noisy bubbles erupted over her.

‘Whoa, that’s more like it,’ he smiled. ‘Always makes the ladies squeal.’

He rocked back his head, closed his eyes, and brought the bottle to his mouth.

Daphne stood transfixed, watching as he took  long messy slugs of the sparkly liquid.

Maggie didn’t drink it like that, she noted, it was more of a raised little finger and gentile sip from fluted glass... this creature is fucking sexy.

‘Fucking sexy’ was term she’d heard Amy use on more than one occasion, normally when talking about her boyfriend, Jack. But having been brought up in an embryo incubator, Daphne had never actually witnessed it, until now. Sexy, she realised, is an energy, and this man had lots of it.

She tilted her head, watching the liquid trickle the corners of his mouth, down his neck, and onto the chest of his bloodied gown. Sub consciously she wiped the corner of her open mouth, wanting some of whatever that stuff was.

David took a breath, a long sigh of relief, and looked over at her.

‘Want some?’ he offered, holding the bottle out to her. She snatched at it, but he pulled back, changing his mind.

‘Nope, wait, a lady uses a glass,’ he corrected, reaching for the champagne glass. ‘Sip it slow, or you’ll belch, which is not a good look for a lass,’ he filled the glass and offered it to her.

She went to accept it, but then guilt got the better of her.

‘No, no, thank you,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘I’d better not, I’ve only just got this job, I don’t want to get in trouble the first time I’m left alone in the office.’

She turned to walk back to her screen, smiling to herself, proud of displaying the thing they called ‘willpower’.

‘Like I said, sir, no one is here, they’re all on the ground looking for someone. Can I help you?’

He followed her, bringing the bottle and glass with him.

‘Fuck,’ he sighed, not happy. ‘How long will they be?’

He took another swig.

Daphne, stopped in her stride, and turned to look at him, it was the way he said fuck.

‘I remember,’ she nodded her head and waved her pencil at him. ‘You were here before. You’d been beaten up outside a nightclub. You complained that you weren’t ready to die, and they let you go back, am I right?’

‘Yep,’ he nodded. ‘Good memory, girl.’.

‘So, what’s happened this time?’

‘I’m dead, again,’ he looked down at his chest, blood seeped his gown. ‘But I’ve got to go back, I’ve not finished.’

‘You said that last time.’

‘I know, but I still haven’t finished!’ he shoved the glass in her hand. ‘Here, take this, I’ve got to go. There’s no way I have time to die right now,’ he took another swig from the bottle.

‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t a game, you can’t have a few goes, change your mind, and go back to the start. When your dead, your dead,’ she winced apologetically, feeling a little sorry for him. He was obviously new to dying.

‘Look, some bastard shot me because I’m involved in taking a whole load of bad people to court. I want to see the court case through, I’ll come back when the jobs done,’ he promised. ‘Jack said it would be okay.’

‘Is he expecting you?’

‘No, yes, he’s meant to be looking after me, apparently. He took me back down last time when the big guy told him to, Mike, or something.’

‘The big guy?’ Daphne squinted. ‘Ahh, you mean our Commander, Micael,’ she nodded, it was all coming back to her, he’d caused quite a scene.

An explosive argument had erupted between Jack, Micael, and Maggie after he’d left.

‘You’re David Howard aren’t you? On of Jack’s OM’s.’

‘What’s an OM?’

‘It’s an offender management program, for the more troublesome of erthfolk. Jack has been assigned to you, which means you may be worth saving, and recruiting here one day.’

‘You have to be joking, I’m destined for hell darlin, There’s no way I’d get a ticket to come up here,’ he laughed. ‘At least that explains all his stalking,’ he looked at the screen she was working on, headshots were scattered across it.

‘What’s this?’ he asked, recognising a few of the faces.

With a wave of her hand the screen went black.

‘Nothing, you shouldn’t be looking at that.’

‘You’re working on the trafficking case, aren’t you,’ he gasped, excited. ‘You know what I’m doing.’

Daphne backed away from him.

‘I’m not,’ she corrected. ‘I don’t work with Jack, I work with Syd on the suicide unit.’

‘Bullshit, those guys you’re looking at are involved the case I’m working on. Tell me, I need to know, this isn’t a joke,’ he followed her. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Daphne,’ she led him to the sofa. ‘Look, take a seat, I’ll tell them you’re here, and you can ask them.’

He wanted to argue, but didn’t have the strength, his chest pain was getting worse. He sat on the sofa, leaned back, closed his eyes, and hugged the champagne bottle, grateful for the rest.

Daphne tapped her temple to put a call through to Pyke, watching David take another slug.

‘I haven’t got much time,’ he sighed. ‘I need to speak with them, where are they?’

‘I don’t know.’

Pyke wasn’t answering.

‘What’s happening with the court case?’ David whispered. ‘What do I need to do to make it work?’ his voice was growing weak.

‘I don’t know.’

‘But you’re working on it,’ he pointed at her screen.

‘I’m not,’ Daphne shook her head. ‘Honestly, I work with Syd. He asked me to check on this file, one of  the victim’s is considering suicide, we’re on alert to distract until the thought passes.’

David wasn’t listening, his head fell back, he wanted to sleep but feared he wouldn’t wake up. The champagne helped, he took another slug.

She tried Pyke again, no answer. She tried Jack, then Amy, then Maggie, but again, no answer... where the hell are they?

‘Fuck it!’ she spat, another term she’d learned from Amy, and downed the glass of champagne.

CHAPTER 3

The Ditterings Beach Cafe, West Sussex, UK

Seagulls called and swirled, searching for scraps from tables.

Pyke leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs, cupped hands behind his head, closed his eyes, tilted his face to the skies, and let out a sigh.

‘Perfect,’ he breathed.

Of all the places in the world he could’ve chosen to play hooky at, he’d chosen this little seaside village on the south coast of England.

He used to visit the Ditterings as a youngster. It held happy, safe, memories for him. He smiled to himself, taking time-out had been a good idea.

He’d been stuck in the office for a long while now. Mentally exhausted, he’d begun to snap at the others and produce sloppy work. He’d lost his sense of humor and the love of the chase. He needed to get away and remind himself of why he was there. The planet would keep turning without him.

Without telling anyone, he’d got up and left, which was a big thing for him, he was frightened of heights, and hadn’t ventured outside since his death.

That first step out into the clouds, then dropping to the erth, was frightening, yet exhilarating. He wasn’t sure if his wings would work. One he’d worked out how to use them, soaring was easy, exhilarating. But where to land?

It felt safe coming back to the village, a place he knew. It felt right to be back on solid ground, and reminded of the innocent boy he once was, with dreams of being superman, and getting rid of baddies.

The sea wind circled his body, the sun warmed his face, and the smell of salt, seaweed, fish, and chips revived the child in him. He smiled as childhood memories flooded back.

‘Playing hooky, are we?’ a voice he didn’t recognize interrupted his peace. Through squinted lashes he peered up at the male standing over him.

‘And you are?’ he asked, pissed off at the interruption... could I not just have five minutes alone?

‘Your enemy,’ the male grinned, placing a coffee cup on the table, and sitting down beside him, mimicking his stretching out in the sun.

Pyke pulled up in his chair and took a second look at the male.

‘You don’t look like an enemy, you look like a geeky university student, now go piss off, I’m busy.’

Pyke leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes, willing the guy to leave him alone.

‘Never judge a book by its cover,’ grinned the male, taking a sip of coffee. ‘I haven’t been dead long, I guess I’ve still got my boyish good looks.’

‘What do you want, I’m busy.’

‘Firstly, I want to say that you’re a legend, I grew up studying you, and was gutted when you died. It’s an honor to meet you.’

‘Ahhh, you’re a hacker. Let me guess, you work for Gregori, and your name is PiRat. I wondered when you’d show your face.’

‘Correct, I just wanted to let you know I’m here, watching you, man to man, hacker to hacker.’

Pyke grinned, he was a cocky bastard, which meant he may be good. It might be nice to have some serious opposition for a change.

‘Nice to meet you, now piss off I’m on a break,’ Pyke waved him away.

‘That’s not very neighborly,’ PiRat stood up and drained his coffee. ‘I only passed by to give you a gentlemanly hello, no need to be so rude, we’re supposed to work together.’

‘You aint no gentlemen and this is not me being rude, you don’t want to see me when I’m rude,’ Pyke pulled up in his seat to look at him.

‘Let’s not beat about the bush here, son, you’ve been trailing me and my unit for weeks, you’ve tried to get us closed down, and sent in a few spies to do your dirty work. But know this geek boy, I’ll always be one step ahead of you. You may have studied my work whilst alive, but I have come on in leaps and bounds since dead. The powers we have up there, you could not begin to dream of. So, fuck off back down to hell, whilst I get some shut eye. Capiche?’

A slow clap could be heard from behind them, they both turned round to see Jack leaning against the café wall with a grin on his face.

‘Hello boys. Is he causing you any trouble, Pyke?’ he asked, striding over to them.

PiRat, deciding he was no match for the famous Jack Mallan, sunk down through the paving stones, disappearing before Jack could reach the table.

‘Who was that? What are you doing here? And how the hell did you get to talk gangster like that?’ he beamed, flopping into PiRat’s chair.

Pyke shook his head.

‘Is there any way of me getting some peace around here, what are you doing? I thought you were nannying David, is he okay, did he survive the shooting?’

‘I’m looking for you. I checked the office and was told you’d gone out for a walk! You never go out. What’s going on? You’re making me nervous,’ Jack stole a sip from his coffee cup. Pyke snatched it back.

‘No, I don’t, and is it any wonder why? I get pestered by you lot,’ he sighed. ‘Did David make it?’

‘He will, he’s a fighter, I’ve left him in A&E, any idea who did it?’

Jack turned to see a male wearing a hoody walking out of the café. His eyes followed him trying to get a look at the guy’s face, but he swiftly turned the corner out of sight.

‘Who’s that?’ asked Pyke following his stare.

‘No one,’ Jack sighed. ‘I thought I saw one of my OM’s. But he’s out as a wanted by the police at the moment, so he’s living up north keeping a low profile,’ he shook his head. ‘I must be imagining it.’

Amy swooped down and landed in front of them, hands on hips.

‘Pyke, where’ve you been?’ she asked, concerned.

‘It’s only been five minutes,’ moaned Pyke, ‘what the...’

Maggie landed with a whoosh beside Amy, also hands on hips.

‘Like mother like daughter,’ Jack mumbled, secretly proud of his future wife and mother-in-law.

‘Pyke! What the hell!’ Maggie blasted, straightening her windswept hair, pearls, and cerise Chanel suit. She’d obviously flown in a rush.

‘You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack? What are you doing here? You never go out,’ she barked.

Her unit were well aware that the louder she barked, the more she loved you.

Jack dragged over a few chairs from a nearby table. They all sat staring at Pyke, patiently waiting for an answer.

A concerned Alice walked around the corner to join them.

Pyke held his face in his hands.

A gust of wind whisked Maggie’s hair, again, as Qyl landed with a thump behind her chair.

‘Not you as well,’ Pyke gasped, peering through splayed fingers. ‘I don’t even work with you, you’re the enemy,’ he opened his hands. ‘Have you lot ever heard of giving someone space?’

Jack pulled over more chairs and ushered Qyl and Alice to sit. The six of them squidged a little snugly around the table, heads together. It didn’t help that Qyl and Jack took up the space of two beings.

‘Sorry to barge in on you lot,’ Qyl, looked nervously over his shoulder. ‘But I went to your office, and no one was there. What’re you all doing here?’

They turned to Pyke.

‘To be honest,’ he sighed. ‘It’s none of any of your business. I don’t ask where you’ve been every five minutes, I dread to think most of the time.’

They stared at him, still waiting. He was loved, his behavior was unusual, they were not going to give up until they understood. He relented.

‘It’s a place I used to come to as a child,’ he shrugged. ‘I needed some quiet time, but I’ve had anything but.’

He looked at his audience, secretly a little chuffed. They cared for him; it was a nice feeling.

‘You’ve never left the office, you’re frightened of stepping outside, you’re a recluse, and always have been,’ Amy squeezed his shoulder. ‘We were worried.’

‘What did you want, Qyl,’ interrupted Maggie in her crisp Queens English, twiddling her pearls.

Seeing that Pyke was okay, she was immediately onto the next problem. As was her way, she got to the point.

‘Are you coming to join us?’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Qyl nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking, and don’t bite my head off,’ he leaned away from her.

He was a hefty leather clad warlord warrior, twice her size, covered in blood and dust from the erth’s crust, but she was a formidable creature, no one messed with the infamous Maggie Delia Smithers.

‘For the moment,’ he splayed a calming