The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2 (27 page)

As if he knew he was on her mind, she heard the scuff of his boots on the cement as he came through the doors to join her on the balcony. The wind shifted direction and brought to her sensitive nose the heady scents of the rugged outdoors and honest work. All that she associated with Jackson.

He came up beside her and leaned on the railing, looking out over the widespread view. “Well now, ain’t this a pretty place to pass the time? Shame we won’t be here longer than overnight.”

“That’s all we have time for.”

He nodded. “Sure. Still, seems like we should have some fun.”

Her pulse skittered alarmingly. Fires of Hell, her system was severely compromised if a simple comment could elicit such a response from her. Stiffening her spine, she turned away from the temptation. “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

She caught his lifted eyebrow.

“Okay,” he drawled. “Hey, you hungry?”

Hesitating, but not trusting herself to turn around, she looked over her shoulder. “Yes, I am.”

“I’ll get some room service.” A hopeful gleam twinkled. “Unless you want to go out?”

“No. Ordering food is sufficient.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She gave him a quick jerk of her head and headed for the bathroom, snatching up her bag as she went. All she had was one more change of clothes but that would have to do. Of course, if she wanted more, all she had to do was conjure them. Except…

“Damn it,” she mumbled. Her magic didn’t work here—in this land filled with Mayan ruins. What she had in her bag was going to have to carry her until she got out of this place.

She went into the bathroom and turned to close the door. As she did, she paused and stared at Jackson. He still faced the ocean, his back to her. Her gaze traveled up and down his form, lingering at the taut curve of his ass revealed by his tight jeans. One of his boots rested on the lower rung of the balcony railing, which further pulled the fabric snugly over his backside. Her mouth went dry, and her breathing picked up. With more force than necessary, she closed the door and pressed her forehead against the cool wood.

“Get ahold of yourself, Marisol Asheni,” she muttered. “He’s just an attractive human. That’s all. And handsome humans are not unusual.”

If only she could convince her body of that.

Kat sat up and blinked rapidly as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She felt thick and heavy, as if a great weight sat on her chest. It was an effort to move. She looked around. The room she was in had the look of clinical sterility packaged in comfort. A hotel, maybe? What would she be doing in a hotel?

Was she on a bed? She looked down. How could she be on a bed? Her gaze dropped lower and she felt her eyes widen. “Oh my God,” she moaned. A body. She was in a body. A female body lying on a bed in some strange hotel room.

At the realization, her memory of the past flashed into her mind. She’d been visited by Michael and sent to give a message to Jackson. When she’d arrived at his location, she’d ended up in the middle of a battle in which Mari and Jackson were fighting Beliel and a female demon. She recalled the dark-streaked blonde woman—her sister—lying on the floor.

Kat gasped. Ash had been there too. She’d been kneeling beside her sister, watching the woman’s shredded soul leave her body when he arrived. The last thing Kat remembered about that was the tearing in her chest, then Ash’s concerned face hovering over hers.

She stiffened. “No,” she murmured. “Not me. The body. He put me in that woman’s, oh my God,
my sister’s
, body.” She hadn’t even known that was possible. Or acceptable.

“Oh, Ash, what have you done?” she moaned.

No answer. She looked around, noting the curtains blowing, a fragrant breeze coming in from the terrace. At least, she thought it was a terrace. From her place on the bed, she saw bright sunlight shining in, casting a long beam over the slate-blue carpet. It had been dark in California, her last ‘physical’ location.

With effort, she swung the body’s—
oh God
—her legs over the side of the bed. The weight pushed down on her. It had been a long time since her soul remembered what it felt like to carry a physical form.

Using her palms, she pushed on the mattress, shoving herself upright. She wobbled a bit, then regained her balance. One step. Then two. And another, until she crossed, slowly, the floor to the open window. After pushing back the curtains, she slid open the screened door then stepped outside. Warm breezes caressed her skin, lifting the small hairs on her arms. Tropical aromas danced around her nose and she took a deep breath, inhaling the warm scents of suntan lotion, fruit and salt air.

She found herself taking in deep breath after deep breath, feeling the rising of her chest as her lungs absorbed oxygen, the simple motion of breathing making tears come to her eyes. With a trembling hand, she swiped the moisture away and touched her fingers to her lips. The piquant taste of salt stung her lips.

She could feel, taste and touch. She was really and truly alive. In someone else’s body, but alive.

She scanned the area below her. About three stories down was a long white-sand beach. Colorful umbrellas dotted the smooth sand. Children ran back and forth from parents to the water, their laughter tingeing the air, mixing with the screech of birds and gentle roar of the waves crashing on the beach.

Kat let out a whoop of delight. Throwing her arms in the air, she twirled on legs that got steadier the longer she tried to use them and remembered how to handle them. She didn’t know how or why Ash had put her in this body, just that he had. She’d deal with the consequences of that later.

She did another twirl. The loose satin robe’s hem swung around her legs, brushing against them. The soft caress tickled her skin. She rested her hands on the balustrade and looked down. She had to go down to the beach. To run across the sand in her bare feet, dance in the water and grab a drink. All the things she’d been denied for these past twelve years she’d been a ghost.

Pivoting, she crossed the patio, went inside then ran to the door and turned the knob. Nothing happened. It didn’t move, didn’t budge. She rattled it a few times, then turned the little latch that usually unlocked deadbolts. It spun in its casing as if the bolt itself were missing.

She knocked on the door. “Hello? Is anyone there? I seem to be locked in.”

Pressing her ear against the cool wood, she strained to hear. No movement or sounds beyond the closed door. With the edge of her fist, she pounded on the smooth surface. “Hey! Let me out.”

“Sorry, my dear, but you aren’t going anywhere,” the raspy voice purred from behind her. “At least, not until I’m ready.”

Kat froze. She recognized that slither of sound up her spine. Her fingertips grew numb as fear crashed through her. She turned around slowly, her back pressed against the wood. Just inside the door to the balcony stood a tall man with red hair and green piercing eyes. The smile on his face was a mocking sneer that seemed to expect, and was satisfied by, the fear she was sure he’d smell and taste on the air.

Coming farther into the room, he sauntered toward her. She pressed hard into the door, hoping she’d be able to pass through it like she had as a ghost. Her knees went weak. Despite his different appearance, she recognized him—Beliel, the son of Lucifer. He stopped about two feet from her.

Up close, the sulfuric scent of brimstone stung her nostrils, cutting into the memory of the floral and sun scents of the outside. Deep within the green of his eyes, a pinpoint of red flared bright.

“I’m glad to see you are enjoying your new body, ghost.” His gaze traveled from her eyes, down over her chest to her bare feet. “And it is a lovely body.” He leaned in and sniffed. His nostrils widened, and the red brightened.

When she thought she would faint from his nearness, Beliel moved back a few steps. “It is good that you and the little human were sisters, otherwise I would have been very unhappy with the Slayer.”

Kat closed her eyes. Sisters. What a bombshell to learn she truly had a sister. Before her second set of foster parents—her mother and father in every sense of the word—had adopted her, she’d been a ward of the state of Illinois, dropped off at a center by someone who left no note. No mention of a sister or other sibling. Nothing. Kat had been named Katherine by the women who’d run the place.

“I don’t have a sister.” Despite her heart saying otherwise, she still denied the knowledge. How could something so big have been kept from her?

“Of course you do. And not just a sister of your blood, but a twin. Otherwise, this would not have worked.”

Kat’s hand rose to cover her mouth. A twin? Her mind raced. How could she have had a
twin
and not known? Not felt the lack? Wouldn’t that have meant Catherine’s mother was Kat’s? Tears sprang to her eyes. Why would her mother have given up Kat but not Catherine?

Beliel tossed her a crooked smile and walked over to the sideboard. From the small cabinet near the room’s refrigerator, he pulled out a couple of small bottles. Alcohol bottles. He opened one and tossed back the contents. “These rum ones are quite tasty.”

“What am I doing here?” Leaving the topic of her sister behind, Kat finally found the courage to ask. It appeared he did not intend to harm her. She moved away from the wall and crossed to the other side of the room, putting the bed between her and the son of Lucifer. “What do you want from me?”

He smiled and drank from another of the tiny bottles. “You are here because I need you to find something, and then you will help me use it.”

“You are seeking the skull, aren’t you?”

“Clever ghost.” His head tilted. “What do you know about the skull?”

She lifted her chin. “Mari and Jackson will find it first. You won’t be allowed to have it.”

A laugh burst from him. “No, I don’t think so. I think, without you, they will not find it.”

“What do I have to do with this? I don’t know where the skull is and I certainly don’t know how to use it.”

“Ah, but you do. The knowledge runs in your family. You might say you were born into it. Your sister knew and since I can’t have her, I have you.” He slammed the last of the bottles on the counter and his eyes narrowed. “You will find it or you’ll suffer a worse fate than being a ghost.”

With that, he disappeared. Unblinking, Kat stared at the spot he’d stood until her eyes burned with dryness. She didn’t know anything about a skull. How was she going to help him? And where was she?

She turned and tugged on the door handle again. Nothing. She slapped the surface with her palm, more from anger and frustration than the belief she’d be able to get out.

Crossing to the center of the room, she lifted her chin. “Ash,” she called. She’d never sought him before. Wasn’t sure he’d respond, anyway. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

No response. “Ash, damn it! What the hell did you do?”
And how could you have left me in my sister’s body?

Even though she had never tried to contact him, there were times she felt as if he was there. Watching. It wasn’t until after she’d seen him after reconnecting with Lexi that Kat known what she suspected—Ash had kept an eye on her.

She called him again. Still no answer. Where was the bastard? After all, he’d gotten her into this mess. First by killing her and making her into a ghost that could never leave, then by putting her into her sister’s body.

Good grief. Her sister. Did she really have a sister she’d known nothing about? How was it even possible that she’d never known? Weren’t twins supposed to feel it when one was missing? She’d never once felt like a part of her was missing. Sure, she’d lost out on having family for all those years, but once she’d been adopted, she’d never felt like she had someone out there. And when she’d found Lexi, she’d never needed anyone else. Lexi was her sister in every way but blood.

Kat sighed. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about finding out she had a sister, losing her and then being in her body. She crossed the carpet and stood in front of the large framed mirror hanging on the wall. It had been a long time since she’d looked in a mirror—ghosts didn’t need them and she couldn’t have seen anything anyway, so what would have been the point?

She peered into the glass. The face that looked back at her was hers, but not hers. The same blue eyes, small nose with the slight uptilt to the tip and spattering of golden-brown freckles. Definitely twins, but still different enough to be distinguishable.

Where Kat had worn her hair in a cap of brunette curls, her sister had a head of long, sleek, polished-looking blonde strands highlighted with deep walnut that defied the idea of messy. While lovely, even the suit that covered the body—she couldn’t think of it as her body yet—was elegant and polished, whereas Kat had worn jeans and T-shirts. Minor differences in appearance, but major difference in lifestyles.

“What does the demon want from you?” she asked the image.

Chapter Eighteen

Jackson felt it when Mari closed the bathroom door because the burning between his shoulder blades from her gaze cut off. He released the breath he’d been holding. Christ, even the woman’s stare heated his blood. How much more could he take? And when had their wary truce given way to more than simple attraction?