The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2 (26 page)

“I’m not going to tell him.” Relief flooded his gray eyes until she finished, “You are.”

His eyes widened and face paled—the gray washing out the color of a clear crystal just brushed with color. “Aw, come on, Mari. I don’t think he’s going to like that I’ve kept this from him.”

“No, I don’t think he’s going to like it either.” She waved a hand. “We’ll deal with that later. What else do you know?”

“Nuthin’. Just heard a dude mention Lubaantun. Supposed to be an old Mayan city. Or temple. Guy wasn’t sure.”

Mari looked over at Jackson. He met her gaze and shrugged. “It’s a start.”

She turned back to Michael. “One last thing. Does Raphael know he has a daughter? That he actually had two daughters?” In the woman’s memory, he had seemed to know what he was doing, but had he followed up?

“Yes. He knows of both.”

“And he’s done nothing to protect them?” She saw the answer in his bright eyes. “The bastard,” she spat. After this was done, supposing they were able to defeat Beliel and save humankind—again—she planned to have a chat with Raphael. As soon as she found him.

She was—or thought she was—as close to Raphael as she was to Mikos. For Rafe to keep such a thing secret… She rubbed her chest, on top of the place that squeezed with pain.

“Mari, you okay?”

She looked at Jackson. The question made two lines crease his brow. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. A flash of white from the corner of her eye dragged her attention to the place where the woman had died and been resurrected as Kat.

Mari strode over to the spot, bent and picked up the piece of paper that must have been hidden underneath the body.

“What’s that?” Jackson murmured from her side. He’d obviously followed her.

The paper was folded in half. After opening it, she read the name written on the top, then immediately closed it. Turning to Jackson, she held it out to him. “It’s for you.”

His brows drew together. “For me? From whom?” He took the proffered piece of paper. “How the hell did it get here?”

She shrugged. “Not my business.”

She watched as he unfolded the note and read it. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his lips thinned until the skin surrounding his mouth paled.

“Something wrong?”

He didn’t look at her. “Thought it wasn’t your business.”

“It is if it interferes with what we are doing.”

As she threw back the words he’d said to her not so very long ago, he looked up. His eyes, normally calm with a glint of humor, were hard and cold. “It’s not going to interfere.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. He stared back as if he dared her to push for an answer. She wouldn’t—not her style. And, deep within the shadowed green, she saw something else that kept her quiet. Pain. Sadness. Not for him. Not for her. Not even for the dead woman. Someone else. Someone very important to him. Ice spread through her stomach.

Turning away to give him privacy, not because she needed the space to handle her uneasiness, her gaze fell on Michael. Empathy softened the brilliant blues of his eyes. She lifted her chin, meeting his understanding with defiance. She would not allow such weakness.

“Let’s go,” she said and held out a hand to Jackson. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can find the skull and rescue Kat.”

“Marisol Asheni, wait.” Michael held up a hand. “You cannot apport there.”

She sighed. “I know, I know. You want me to travel as the humans do. Archangel, I can’t. I tried but it’s so much slower and as you note, it’s pretty imperative we get there before Beliel.”

“This is not about my permission or lack of. The place you must go, Belize, not just Lubaantun, is full of ancient magic and sacred places which have built up and surrounded the land. It is now protected by some kind of netherworld energy. You cannot apport there.”

Her lips tightened and her nostrils flared. “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? This is why you made me go on a plane. To set me up for this. You knew all along where the skull was.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She read it in the faint twitch at his jawline. Unkind thoughts ran rampant through her mind. She didn’t try to stop them, despite the fact the Archangel could read them. Not that it seemed to bother him. He just stared at her with the same serene, all-knowing expression.

“You have no choice, Marisol,” he finally said at the same time her internal rant finished. “You will have to travel as the humans do.”

Fires of Hell, she was going to hate this.

Chapter Seventeen

Ash threw his head back and let out a bellow of rage, shouting to the sky. Around him, eidolons, terrified of his anger, fled until nothing of the Twilight’s creatures remained. The silence pressed in on him, weighing him down. He fell to his knees.

The tingle of Kat’s essence danced along his nerves. A reminder of what he’d done. More rules he’d broken, this time to give her another chance at life. Giving her back the future he’d stolen from her years ago.

He lowered his head. The echo of Kat’s screams and the agony on her ghostly face as he had grabbed hold of her spiritual essence—her soul or chi—and wrapped it around his hand hovered behind his lids each time he closed his eyes. He had known the experience would be painful but didn’t see that he’d had any other choice. He’d never had the choice. Not with Kat. Since he’d killed her, and after meeting Catherine, everything had led up to this point. His one and only chance to have her back.

And now, now she had been taken by the bastard Beliel, who had seen the truth behind what Ash had done. In the cold, dead organ that used to be his heart, Ash knew that as soon as Beliel got what he wanted from Kat, he would kill her and Ash would lose her forever. There was no way she would come back a second time as a ghost. He could not allow Beliel to take her from him again.

Pushing to his feet, he focused his will and Ash apported…only to find himself still in the Twilight.

By this time, some of the braver eidolons had returned and hovered at the edge of his vision. There but not there. They would not come near him. Even here, they knew who he was and his reputation.

He tried to apport again. Nothing. He remained locked within the Twilight.

“There is a consequence for every action, as you well know, Slayer.”

Without moving his body, he looked over his shoulder at the short, round figure of the old man sitting on a rock who hadn’t been there when Ash had arrived. The man wore tan pants and a striped yellow-and-blue shirt. Curly silver hair escaped from under the rim of a tan baseball cap. Deep-blue eyes, nearly the color of purple, peered at him from under the bill of the cap, the expression serious and still managing to be kind.

“Do I know you?”

A slight smile tugged at the corners of the old man’s mouth. “At one time, you did. I’m afraid those days are long past.” His tone held the edge of sorrow.

Ash studied the man again then shook his head. “I don’t remember you.”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, I know you. And what you want—”

Ash’s eyes narrowed. “You know nothing.”

“—and what you’ve set into motion by your actions,” the old man continued as if Ash hadn’t interrupted him.

Ash pivoted and walked over to loom over the other man. Without appearing uncomfortable, the man simply tilted his head back and met Ash’s gaze. He glared at the old man, a battle of wills he was suddenly certain he would lose.

He dropped his gaze and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “I had no choice.”

“Ah. No choice.” The old man settled back, resting on his hands. “Of course you had a choice. All living things have a choice. And all must accept the consequences of their choices. As you must accept yours.”

“If you are here, and you know who I am, as you say you do, then you know I had to do what I did.” Ash pulled his shoulders back. “The consequences be damned.”

“They very well may be, Asher Dakeni,” the old man murmured. “That remains to be seen.”

“You speak in riddles, old man.” He cocked his head. “I know another who enjoys speaking in riddles.”

“Be that as it may, the consequence of your current action is you may not interfere. You are forbidden to engage in the things that are currently unfolding.”

“
You
are what keeps me here? Who are you?” Ash growled. At his sides, his fists clenched and unclenched. “Release me.”

“That I cannot do. Not yet. You’ve already caused a ripple that needs to run its course.”

In the space between blinks, Ash’s sword appeared in his hand—the long, dark blade cutting the grayness as if it had form. He held Black Ice in front of the old man. Ash put all the menace he could into his voice as he gritted out between a clenched jaw, “I have risked much to do what I did. I will not lose her again.”

“Yes, you have risked and lost much. Maybe too much. We shall see.”

Before Ash could do anything, the old man and the rock he sat on disappeared. One second there, the next not. Ash was left staring at the empty place. The hilt of Black Ice had a comforting feel that made it seem as if he stood on less shaky ground.

There were few who could stand before him without fear. The old man seemed to know who he was, and yet faced him down as if what he knew was of no consequence. Ash dismissed the idea of who it could have been. There was no way He would appear before a fallen angel who sat at Lucifer’s right hand.

Ash hitched his shoulders. Black Ice, and his wings and armor, blinked out of existence. He stared out into the gray nothingness of Twilight. Far off in the distance, he saw a golden door that shone like a beacon of hope. A door to Heaven. A place forbidden to all the Fallen. Only one had ever been given the chance to redeem himself and return, and yet, he’d chosen to remain on Earth with his mortal female.

Mikos, his brother in all but blood, had done what no Fallen had been able to do before. Not that many had wished to return. When Mikos had won his chance, he’d turned it down to live as a human. Ash knew Mikos and his human woman, Lexi, worked for Archangel Michael—he’d even helped them in the past. Still, to return to that golden place…

Turning his back on the door into Heaven, Ash tried one last time to apport but not to Kat. As much as every fiber of his being begged him to go after her, he knew the being he’d talked to would not allow it. So Ash went to the only place that resembled a home.

Hell.

“The first thing I’m going to do is immerse myself in scalding-hot water for an hour, then order the biggest piece of steak the hotel has,” she muttered as she stomped down the hotel’s hallway. “Bloody Archangel and his rules.”

She ignored the slight snicker from the man behind her. Bastard was enjoying her discomfort. The whole damn plane ride, Jackson had kept up cheery chatter with his seatmate while she’d been crammed against the plane’s side. She’d had a window, sure, but she’d still felt as if she were in a cage.

Adding to her continued discomfort, she and Jackson had been forced to take a suite versus two single rooms. Apparently, there was a run on weddings in the small country and all of the hotel rooms in San Pedro were reserved. The town, located on Ambergris Caye, the largest of Belize’s islands, was a tourist haven so it made sense weddings would take place in one of the numerous luxury hotels. While she knew Michael wouldn’t stoop to such a level, she’d almost suspected him of interfering.

One of these days she was going to pay him back for the airplane travel, and she was adding the room situation to the list.

In front of the suite she was sharing with Jackson, she halted, her hand with the card key hovering above the knob. Her stomach twisted. With fear or something else? Interesting how she’d wondered if she should have sex with Jackson and here she was, in a situation that put her in proximity to him. Close proximity.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured from behind.

She fancied she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. Bumps rose along her skin, a delicious mixture of his heat and the coolness in the air-conditioned hallway. She inhaled deeply.

After inserting the card key, the door lock released. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just ready to relax.”

She pushed open the door and went in. The small entryway opened into a large room that extended into the two separate bedrooms. At least they wouldn’t have to share a bed, even if they had to share a suite. After shrugging out of her coat, she tossed it and the small travel bag onto the back of the sofa and took a look around. The suite decorations were what she’d expect to see in a coastal hotel. Rattan loungers about the room beckoned for the traveler to rest. She crossed to the sliding doors. After flicking the lock, she slid them open and walked out onto the private balcony overlooking the beach.

On the horizon, the lowering sun painted the sky with the soft brush of pink, pale orange and streaks of red. They’d arrived in San Pedro late enough that they were catching the tail end of the day. Too late to venture into the jungle. Even as the itch to keep moving tightened her skin, common sense asserted itself and they’d agreed to get a room for the one night. Early tomorrow, they’d find a guide and head to Lubaantun.

Mari took a deep breath, inhaling the warm sand and ocean smells. While the air was humid this close to the water, the breezes blowing in from the Caribbean caressed her heated skin with coolness. It was almost enough to reduce her hyperawareness of the handsome human.