What was he telling me, then? Did he really think I’d believe that he wasn’t responsible? That he wasn’t the one who shot my mother down as she fled, not knowing what had happened to me, not knowing if she’d live to see the sunrise? I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
“What purpose would your mother’s death serve? She alone can locate precious relics. Relics that will save my master. Why then, would he want her exterminated before he had what he wanted? Your mother was no good to Azazel dead.” He took a step closer and extended a hand to me. “And neither are you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I snapped. One moment I was standing there managing to stay calm and obey my training, and the next moment, I’d lunged at him and drove the butt of my hand through his nose, my gun forgotten for the sweet, sweet feel of my skin on his.
He reeled backward and stumbled into the chair, blood streaming down his mouth and chin. Blind rage consumed me. How dare he come in and lie to me about my mother.
How. Dare. He.
He fought me off as best he could without landing any blows. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t trying to kill me too. But I didn’t care. I’d fought men before who’d had an issue striking a woman—they always came around eventually. I drove a knee into his kidney and connected solidly with his jaw. Time stood still and I worshipped the pain as my knuckles connected over and over.
“Hit me all you want.”
I did and he grunted.
“But that doesn’t change the truth.”
Truth.
My altar.
The one he’d decimated with his lies. I got behind him and wrapped my arm around his throat, my knee planted solidly in his back. My fingers splayed across his forehead and I readied myself to snap his neck.
A force crashed into me from behind. It trapped my arms and growled against my ear. “Don’t do this.”
I squirmed and kicked and punched. Whoever was behind me lifted me off Harrold and drew me backward until my toes dangled inches above the floor. While I watched in horror, Harrold stood and brushed the front of his shirt like it only had a speck of lint instead of rivers of blood running down it. His left eye was already swollen but he pierced me with those green eyes while I flailed helplessly against this new attacker. I’d missed my chance. Missed my chance to avenge my mother. Fear and fury and hatred welled up inside me.
I yelled in frustration and drove my heel backward, raking against a shin. The move earned a grunt in my ear, but no release. The hold tightened, angling my shoulder higher and grinding my bones together.
“Think about what I said, Evangelina.” Harrold moved toward the front door. “You have two more relics to procure. As such, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
Then he was gone.
I roared and snapped my head back, connecting solidly with my attacker’s chin. Stars exploded in my head but his grip loosened just enough that I slipped free. With one swift motion I kicked up and backward, then spun and my foot connected solidly with his jaw.
Clay’s jaw.
He stumbled backward and I punched him, then raced toward my door, intent on getting Harrold.
Clay grabbed me from behind and held me again. He growled against my ear. “Don’t do this. Don’t let him turn you into a mercenary.”
I hated that word. Hated it worse than amateur. “Get the fuck off of me!”
He held me tighter. “Let him go.”
“You don’t know what he said!”
“Going after him serves nothing. Killing him won’t bring your mom back. Won’t bring Griffin back.”
I sagged against him and he loosened his hold but didn’t let me go. “We’ll get him.” His voice was gentle now. “When this is all over, we’ll get him, okay?”
Clay was right, but I didn’t want to admit that I’d come within seconds of killing a man I hadn’t been hired to eliminate. A rage so pure and diseased had risen up in me that I’d been useless against it. Had Clay not shown up—
I pushed away and turned, scowling. “How did you get in here?”
He rubbed his jaw where I’d kicked, then punched him. “Thief,” he answered with a wise-ass tone then stomped into the kitchen and opened my freezer. While I tried to pull myself together, he dug around until he found what he wanted, then closed the door and settled a package of peas against his face.
I scrubbed my face with both hands. “Why did you come back?”
He pointed to my phone, lying half under the kitchen table. “You butt-dialed me, and I figured you were either having sex with your neighbor or they’d finally come for you.”
I picked up the phone and sure enough, I’d been calling him for four minutes and thirty-two seconds. I hit the off button and tossed my phone on the table. Begrudgingly, I lifted my gaze to his and walked closer.
“Thanks.”
He shook the bag of peas. “Don’t mention it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
We’d moved to the couch and I’d offered him a beer in thanks for keeping me on the right side of the truth. The outline of my boot was turning red on his cheek and I almost felt bad. I’d never been so conflicted. I had wanted to kill Harrold. I had wanted to feel the life seep from his body as he died at my hands in my own living room.
There had only been a few missions that I’d enjoyed like that. One had been a child-molesting, sex-trafficking son of a bitch. I purposely missed my first shot, taking out his junk and letting him writhe around in agony for a full minute before I’d dropped the kill shot. Tonight I’d have gleefully tortured Harrold.
And that bothered me. I didn’t want to be a cold-blooded murderer. I understood the sweet irony of that since I was a hired assassin, but taking money to kill someone was different than taking the truth in my own hands. Tonight I would have crossed a line that I’d promised never to cross. Harrold hadn’t been threatening me, not physically. Emotionally, yes, but I should have been able to handle his taunts...
I shouldn’t have slipped to the dark side as thoroughly as I had.
“You going to tell me what he said, or what?” He nudged my knee with his.
I dug in the left side of my bra and took out the ring. Clay’s eyes widened until he figured out that I wasn’t propositioning him. He relaxed and shifted closer. “Why didn’t he take it from you?”
“He said Azazel wants me to find them all.”
Clay finished his beer and carried our empties to the kitchen and got us new ones. “Then why come here tonight?”
“He wanted to offer me a job.”
Clay snorted and lowered the first bottle to the lip of the counter and smacked it with his hand, knocking the top off. “Popular girl.”
I ignored his teasing, not ready to work through that whole lie of Harrold’s. I slid the ring on my finger and it spun to the side, several sizes too big for me. The metal band was heavy and warm from being against my skin, and I imagined that it had held my mother’s warmth. I rubbed the gold inlay and wondered at the symbolism behind the pentagram.
“What’s the star mean?”
“First off, it’s a pentagram, not a star.” The gem surrounding the inlay glowed with my attention. “I’m not sure the significance of this one, but it’s used a lot in religious relics. But I’m sure you knew that.”
He grinned. “Yeah. Just wanted to get you out of your head some more.”
I grunted and spun the ring around. The hammered metal left imperfections along the underside and I had no idea what to do with it now. “Why do you think Harrold didn’t take it that night after Mom died? He came all that way and burned the village to the ground—I can’t really see him walking away without the relic.”
“Yeah, but someone knows why that guy did what he did, or didn’t do. It’s a crazy, weird ass world we are living in, Lina. We’ve got to figure this thing out. What’s the second one? Next relic? Come on ... what do we find next?”
We? Not sure how I felt about that,
but Ralph had said that Clay was in this thing now, and Metatron had backed it up. I shook my head and slid it from my finger, then set it in his open palm. The stone’s glow faded as soon as I let go. “Hopefully Ralph will have figured that out, or maybe Metatron—”
Clay scrambled over the back of the couch, alarmed by the good-looking guy with the silver-tipped wings who’d just showed up in my apartment, beckoning to my call for the first and only time.
“What the—”
I drained half my beer, then stood. “Metatron, so nice of you to show up. You remember Clay.”
“Holy shit. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that pop-in of yours.” Clay eased closer while I tried to figure out what to say to Metatron. Did I confront him about Harrold’s lies? If this were a regular operation, I never would have compromised a source or intel without finding out what the other side knew first.
I had to treat this the same way—if only to keep my sanity.
“Congratulations.” Metatron motioned toward the ring. “I knew you could do it.”
I pointed at my partner. “It was all Clay.”
He blushed and ducked his head. I seriously thought he was going to say, “Aw, shucks.” But he cleared his throat and straightened. “Ralph was a big help.”
Metatron nodded.
“So what’s next? Do you think Harrold will come find me and kill me, like he did my mom? You know that he paid me a visit?”
He stared at me for a long beat and I stared back. I hoped he could see my wariness. I was incredibly confused and that made me retreat to the point that I wasn’t going to trust anyone.
Finally, he blinked. “You don’t have to worry about Harrold just yet. Go see Ralph. He’s found what you need for the next step. I’m proud of you, Lina, and I know your mother would be too.”
He took a step back, like he’d reconsidered his decision to stay much longer. I’d wanted to question him, but there was an unease about him that made me tread cautiously.
I lurched forward, quickly thinking of a way to discover some of the truth. “One other thing ... before you go.”
Metatron glanced at Clay, then at me and he nodded. “Certainly.”
“I want a way to watch that video feed again, and if Clay could see it, that would be even better.” I didn’t know how to add that I didn’t want to do it with Metatron around.
Clay stepped forward. “We need to know as much as we can about the mission.”
“Yes.” Metatron clasped his hands at his waist. He looked at me again. “Fine. The DVD is in your player. Destroy it after you’re done.”
I managed not to flinch. Did he know that I was looking for something? I felt like we were doing an uneasy dance around each other. I’d also let him use my parents to manipulate me. Even if he’d done it for the eventual good for Griffin’s soul, I’d still played into his hands. I needed to get back to what I knew, and that was truth.
“I expect you to continue at this pace,” Metatron said. “Griffin is counting on you. We’ve no time to waste.”
“No,” Clay said. “No, we don’t, so we’ll get started watching that video now.” He rounded the couch and stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for coming, it was really nice to see you again.”
Metatron nodded. “God bless.”
We echoed the sentiment and he vanished.
Neither one of us moved.
I wasn’t up to watching the video. Not yet. I needed to let my mind rest and needed it to be totally clear of tonight, both from Harrold and Metatron. I needed to have a blank slate when I watched it so I could see it with unbiased eyes.
“Let’s take a break, okay?”
His other hand cupped my shoulder and he turned me. His wide grin eased the tension in my body. “We won.” He said it quietly, as if he was worried about startling me.
I was as tight as a tripwire, so it was a founded concern. I didn’t know how to let him go tonight, or what I could say that would make him feel more comfortable that I wasn’t about to have a serious meltdown.
“Did we?” I sure didn’t feel like it. Sure, we had the relic. But we also had enemies, lies, and confusion. Never mind. My own dance with the darkness that had required Clay’s quick thinking and willingness to pull me back.
He kissed me softly on my cheek. I really didn’t know what to think of it. I looked up at him questioningly. “Everyone needs a little tenderness and a friend sometimes, Lina. Something tells me you’ve been needing both ever since you lost Griffin. I’m here for you. I’ll help you with this and I’ll be your friend. I’ve got no ulterior motives, and I promise I’ll keep the flirting at a minimum.” He smiled at me, grabbed me another beer and plopped back down on my couch. “Guess we start making plans to go find the next one.”
I sat down next to him, took a swig on my beer and looked into his startling blue eyes. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?”
“Yeah, I could use a friend and ... yeah, I guess we better start making some plans to find whatever it is the archangels, God, whoever is calling the shots, wants us to find.”
At the end of the day, I desperately wanted to find Griffin and help his soul get to the right place. I loved him with all my heart. He was supposed to be my soul mate. I still loved him. But, there was this kind of weird thing going on with me that I didn’t want to admit, because I was extremely ashamed to even be thinking ... or feeling it.
It was damningly human, reminding me that I still felt. I didn’t want to admit it to myself even, and I certainly didn’t want to admit to Clay that I really didn’t mind his flirting at all. And I didn’t want to admit that the kiss he’d gently planted on my cheek lingered and had sent some serious tingles through my entire body.
The End
***
Read on for an excerpt from the Holiday Novella,
The Judas Relic - Book Two - The Evangeline Heart Adventures
THE JUDAS RELIC
Evangeline Heart Adventures
Book 2
by
Michele Scott
Clay
And said unto them, What will you give me, and I will deliver him unto you? And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. — Matthew 26:15
Easiest fence this month. Clay Wellers clicked the briefcase closed and nodded curtly to the jeweler, Mr. Gordon Schmaltz. They’d traded millions in jewels and cash together over the years, but Clay still didn’t like him. Schmaltz was a crotchety old bastard, but the heavy weight of the cash made up for it. So Clay kept coming back.
Outside, the frigid Manhattan winter air slapped Clay’s face. He tugged his collar up around his jaw and tightened his hold on the handle of the briefcase. He had to admit to himself that his heart was heavy. This was par for the course for him at this time of year. It couldn’t be helped. No matter how much cash he had, no matter how much he enjoyed what he did, the pain inside couldn’t be rectified. In less than a week, the anniversary of his little brother’s death promised to mar Christmas Eve.
Clay hailed a taxi and took it to Fifth, near Museum Mile. He paid the driver and walked straight into the lobby of the best assisted-living care facility the city had to offer. It was where his mother had called home for the past three years when he had to move her out the home she’d lived in for over fifty years. He’d thought moving her from upstate into the city to be closer to him would help facilitate more visits on his end, but he was ashamed to admit that he knew it wasn’t enough. She deserved more.
The head nurse smiled up at him as he passed the nursing station and he smiled widely at her, making her blush. “She had a good day today. She’ll be happy to see you,” she said.
Clay nodded. “Hope so, Susie. Hope so. I brought her a little present.” He held up a small box that the jeweler had wrapped for him. In it contained a pearl-and-diamond necklace that he knew was far from practical for his mom, but he wanted her to have it anyway. Alzheimer’s or no
t, he believed his mom still deserved the finest that money could buy. He paused at the door, not expecting much.
She smiled politely. “Hello there.”
“Hi, Mom.” He moved cautiously toward the edge of the bed.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened and she reached out both hands for him. “Oh, Clay. Come here, darling.”
He set the briefcase down and leaned in, kissing her cheek. “You look great, Mom.” He loved it when she remembered who he was. Just that moment would be the best gift he could receive for Christmas.
“Thank you, sweetie. How are you?”
“I’m good. I’ve been busy with work.”
She nodded. “What do you do?”
They went through this every time and she always had the same response. “I’m a thief, Mom. I get paid a lot of money by crazy wealthy people to steal expensive artifacts, jewels, artwork … you name it. I’m their man.”
“You are so funny,” she said. “Did you graduate from high school yet? Where do you go to school?”
He patted her knee. “I graduated fifteen years ago.”
“Hmmm. Now, what do you do…”
And, that’s how it went. It was like a never-ending cycle reminiscent of the movie Groundhog Day, but Clay knew she enjoyed the company, so he would repeat himself as much as need be. He handed her the gift. “This is for you, Mom. Merry Christmas.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, it’s Christmas. Where’s your dad? Where’s Jeremy?” she asked, referring to Clay’s brother.
He swallowed hard and took her hands, not able to remind her of the grim truth—that his father and brother had been dead and buried for many years. His hands shook slightly as he started to unwrap the gift and opened the box.
The Archangel Agenda: An Evangeline Heart Thriller Page 14