“There’s no place I cannot enter,” the Darklin boasted. They both knew the claim could be backed up with proof.
It didn’t mean Lucca couldn’t rib Blaize anyway. “You boast, but I’ve yet to see this profound ability.”
Blaize harrumphed with a curse. He obviously didn’t like his abilities left in question. Good. He would work harder to find a way in.
The temple rose skyward, a marble structure with columns. The steps were also gleaming white marble and at the top of the platform on the right stood a relief carving of the story of David and Goliath. Goliath had been one of the Nephilim, a giant among men. It was a humble reminder that no being is invincible. On the other side there stood a relief of Enoch’s anointing and investiture during his ascension into heaven. Enoch had been the only human known to become an Angel. Lucca and Blaize entered through the ornate doors carved from gold inlays. They made their way past the ancient scrolls set out on display. Blaize kept them shielded from prying eyes. His ability to camouflage and shimmer from one place to the other, made it difficult for preternatural authorities to apprehend him.
“Where to?” Blaize looked over his shoulder, his gaze leveling on Lucca.
Lucca pointed to where a large rock molded into the wall as if the temple backed up to a cave and the rock marked the original entrance. Maybe at one time it was true, but Lucca only knew of the temple and not what was there before.
“Are you friggin’ kidding me?” Blaize narrowed his eyes at him.
Lucca didn’t answer but moved forward. His hand rested on the cold stone, sliding his fingers over the crevice on the right side adjacent to the wall.
“There’s a hidden lever?” Blaize asked. He glanced over his shoulder as Lucca worked, watching the Grigori guards at the front desk. The guards’ wings were tuck beside their bodies in a relaxed state. They didn’t suspect a breach.
“Yes.” Lucca met Blaize’s gaze. “Be ready to use your mojo. A rock sliding open like Jesus’ tomb will draw unwanted attention.”
Blaize nodded and grinned at the Biblical reference. “Already covered. Your winged buddies will see nothing.”
Lucca flicked the switch. The heady weight of Blaize’s magic expanded around them, cushioning their every move. The rock creaked in protest like a giant poked awake after a long rest. Blaize helped him ease the rock open just enough for both of them to slip in.
Lucca glanced at the opening. He didn’t want to chance closing the rock and being trapped inside, but he didn’t want the guards to see the opening either. He looked to Blaize. “Will your powers work to shield the opening even as we take the path down below?”
“If you continue to insult me, I’ll leave you in here to rot.” Blaize snapped his hand and two torches appeared in his hands. He shoved one at Lucca before turning to light the oil trenches mounted to the walls of the cave. The trenches stretched from one end of the cave to the other. One touch of the flame and the oil came alive, fire surging forward lighting the path before them. Lucca did the same on his side of the cave.
“This is child’s play.” Blaize grinned. He snapped his fingers and the torches disappeared. He moved past Lucca, going down the only corridor. The tunnel had been dug out by hand and the fine powered dirt layered the floor and walls.
“As much as it wouldn’t pain me to see you run through,” sarcasm laced Lucca’s words, “perhaps, you would like to slow down so not to trip the hidden levers.”
Blaize halted and whirled around to glare. “This is a maze with hidden traps?
Lucca took the lead. “Of course,” he threw over his shoulder. “Did you really think you could waltz right in here?”
“You Fallen are a sick lot, you know that don’t you?”
“And Darklins aren’t?” Lucca took cautious steps, looking for the trigger piece on the ground.
“No, they are, too,” Blaize said.
Lucca let out a short laugh and shook his head. His pace slowed, spotting the first of the traps. A fine wire a half an inch above the ground was pulled taut and stretched across the path with the intent to trip the intruder, setting the wheels in motion. To the right of him, his gaze traveled over the rock corridor’s wall, remembering his father’s words: Trip the wire and a blade will swing down to cut you in half. He looked back at Blaize, who stared at him with a raised brow. Lucca pointed to the wire and then to the wall where there was evidence of a false cover.
Lucca stepped over the wire and Blaize followed his steps. “One down, eight more to go,” Lucca told him.
“Splendid.”
“Just think you could write a song about your adventure. Isn’t that what you musicians do, write lyrics depicting life?” Lucca asked, actually half curious.
“I express my thoughts and if something happens in my life worthy of mention, I put the story to music.”
“How special,” Lucca’s words dripped with sweet sarcasm, but he actually owned two of Blaize’s CDs. The Darklin had a talent.
“Trust me, our adventure down here isn’t worth my time to write about.”
Lucca snorted. “Have it your way.” He halted, his arm swinging up and across to keep Blaize back.
“What now?” Blaize didn’t bother to restrain his irritation.
“We have to step carefully on the blocks.” He pointed to the different color stones, lining the ground.
“Or what? Poison arrows will shoot from the walls?”
Lucca met Blaize’s gaze. “Yes.” He turned away, his lips twitching at the corners at Blaize’s slacked-jaw look of surprise.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Did the Fallen watch too many Raiders of the Lost Ark? Who does this crap?”
“These precautions were set in place long before the human film came to be. Make sure you follow exactly where I step,” Lucca warned as he headed forward, ignoring Blaize’s curses. The lighter gray, were the stones to step on. Any other would be disastrous.
“I could be home right now in bed with one of the red-headed twins. Their perky—”
“Do you mind?” Lucca threw over his shoulder. “I have no wish to know of your sordid deeds.”
“Whoa ho, didn’t know you were going for Saint of the Year award. I thought you Fallen could get it on now.” He chewed on his lower lip and grunted, while his fisted hands grinded forward and his hips jutted forward in a suggestive manner.
Lucca rolled his eyes. “Get it on? Finding a soul mate has nothing to do with what you’re suggesting.”
“Really?” His dark brows rose. “Last I checked relationships also involved sex.”
“Not the kind of sex you’re into.”
“So you do remember what I’m into?”
Lucca whirled on him, wanting to wipe the grin off Blaize’s face. “Will you shut the—” A rumbling beneath their feet halted his words.
Blaize’s eyes widened as he looked for the threat, his hand automatically going for his dagger.
“Your feet,” Lucca pointed.
Blaize looked down. His one foot was planted on the gray, but the other one stood partially on the stone layered with fine red powder. “Oh bite me,” Blaize groaned.
The floor gave away beneath his feet like a trap door. Lucca’s hand whipped out, grabbing Blaize’s arm before he fell to whatever doomed fate awaited him below in the opened earth. “Dammit, I told you to follow where I stepped.” He grunted as he yanked Blaize over the edge of the pit and onto solid ground, both of them falling backwards. Blaize landed on top of him, but rolled away quickly.
Blaize glared at Lucca. “I was following your steps, but you had to stop and vent.”
Lucca opened his mouth for another retort, but the earth shook again. Curses flew from his mouth as he jumped to his feet and sprinted forward. “Run!”
Blaize didn’t have to be told twice as he jetted after Lucca. “What about where we’re stepping.”
“Too late for that. Keep your head down.”
Spsst sppst…thunck.
The sound of
arrows whizzed by their heads slamming into the walls as they ducked and ran, the ground grumbling beneath them as they went. It was sliding to the right. The path become smaller and smaller as the floor slid into the cave’s wall.
Lucca hadn’t remembered Arizul telling him the floor would slide away.
The last few yards they had to jump and roll to safety at the end of the stone path where a smooth dirt ledge began the next part of the path. Gravel spun off their heels, raining down to its finality in the pit below. The earth ceased to move and the only sound was their labored breathing.
Lucca stood resting his hands on his knees as he leaned down to catch his breath. Blaize braved a peek over the edge to look down into the pit. Spikes poked up from the ground as a welcoming mat to whoever stepped wrong.
“I’ll say it again. The Fallen are sick bastards.”
“More like my father is the demented perpetrator you want to curse.”
Blaize turned his attention on Lucca. “Arizul designed all this?”
“Yes. He created this delightful maze. What can I say; he’s a prince among the deranged.” He didn’t wait for Blaize to make an offhanded remark, but continued down the next hallway.
Blaize kept pace with him. “I can relate to deranged relatives. I have no complaints with my father, but if you recall, my uncle was a down right bastard. He did his best to make Sarice’s and my life miserable. Seems we have something in common in that case.”
Lucca’s gaze riveted to him.
Blaize shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sing Kumbayah and pick out towels for us to move in together. So relax.”
Lucca grunted, his lips pressing together in a fine line as he kept heading forward. The passageway led them on a downward path where the air became thicker. The temperature raised a few notches too, making the confined area feel like a sauna. “Not much farther.” Lucca pointed at the door at the end of the pathway.
“Finally,” Blaize swiped his brow, brushing away long dark strands out of his eyes.
They took the final steps separating them from the door. Blaize’s hand gripped Lucca’s shoulder. “What are you doing,” Lucca demanded, shrugging out of his grip.
“Shimmering us inside.”
“Eegit, the Vault is spellbound,” he pointed to the etched carvings around the door that looked like ancient Celtic symbols. “You could only shimmer in and out of the Vault if the door stood open.”
Blaize held up his hands in mock surrender. “Excuse me. Didn’t know we were dealing with spells, too, but why am I not surprised? Do you mean open sesame doesn’t work here?”
Lucca ignored him and reached into his pants pocket, pulling out the iron key containing intricate cuts to define the teeth. When he lifted the key from his father, he left a fake in its wake. The replica was perfect down to the filigree on the handle. His father would see the fake key on the mantle and not suspect it as anything but the original—well, until he tried to use it. He wished he could have been here when that happened just to see Arizul’s face as he realized Lucca bested him for once.
He inserted the key into the lock and recited the ancient words only the Angels knew. The language sounded strangely like music, highs and lows of a singsong melody. The door glowed brighter with each word until it shone like a beacon radiating light. Surprisingly, the door remained cool to the touch. His hand turned the key.
Click.
The sound was deafening in the quiet surrounding them. Lucca turned the handle and pushed the door open. The hinges groaned against the intrusion, indicating no one had been down here for a long time. Air whooshed out like a ghost freed from its confines, blasting Lucca’s hair away from his face. The room sat in darkness and Blaize snapped his fingers and a torch popped into his hand. There were oil-based sconces waiting to be lit and Blaize did the honors, lighting the six sconces mounted on the walls.
The Vault contained a conglomerate of ancient artifacts, books, and trinkets of every sort, glittery to the mundane.
“Why do you need the book?” Blaize finally asked, making Lucca wonder why it had taken the Darklin so long to ask.
“It’s none of your business.” Lucca strode over to the ornate desk of marble and gold and began rummaging through the drawers.
“I think I’ve earned the right to know.” Blaize met his gaze, refusing to back down. “If I’ve risked my reputation on this heist, I want to know what I’ve gotten myself into. The book is pretty powerful mojo with the written work of an Archangel who spent time at God’s side. You aren’t planning to try and open a portal are you?”
“And where would I go?” Lucca grumbled, wishing Blaize would learn to shut his trap. The male never knew when to shut up, always harping. In that regard, he reminded him of Gideon.
Blaize lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Where couldn’t you go? The book would bring in a pretty penny if we sold it on the black market.”
“There’s no we in this. The book’s not for me anyway.”
“No?” His brows lifted in surprise. “You risked your life… and mine for someone else. Why’s that?”
Lucca didn’t answer and Blaize’s hand gripped his arm, pulling him to a halt. “Why?”
“I had a little visit from the Archangel Barachiel and made a deal to get my wings back. It seems Raziel went rogue on them and they need the book.”
“An Archangel going rogue? Are you sure?”
Lucca nodded. “Raziel opened a portal and sent a couple of humans through it.”
Blaize’s dark brows drew together over the fine planes of his nose. “Why would Raziel do such a thing?”
“How should I know?” He walked over to the bookshelf, scanning the rows for the books. He tried to shut out Blaize’s continued blathering, but having a six-four Darklin breathing down his back proved too annoying to ignore. His excessive gabbing made his ears ring. He was worse than Gideon with his endless questions.
“If Raziel helped these two humans it must be for a good cause,” Blaize insisted.
“There is no cause great enough to alter history. If Raziel sent the humans through time, he’s changed something that should not have been altered,” Lucca grumbled.
“You know what the Archangels will do once they find the humans, don’t you?”
“Don’t care,” Lucca voiced, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to know anything about whom the Archangels hunted. He needed to trade the book for his wings. He needed his glamour to keep Juliet and Owen safe from his father. He glanced at his arm where a faint tattoo glowed, the stamp where Barachiel bonded with him. He wondered if the Archangel could track him here to the Vault.
“You should care. They’ll be—”
He whirled on Blaize. “Get it through your thick skull. I don’t.”
Blaize held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, and I thought we bonded. My bad. Do what you got to do. It’s your conscience.” His hand brushed over a gold carved box, wiping away the dust.
One… two. Lucca counted under his breath, knowing Blaize wasn’t through. Three…four…five…
“As long as you can live—”
Lucca knew he wouldn’t disappoint him.
“—with the fact they’ll eliminate the humans, then by all means hand over the book.”
“I thought I said I didn’t care.”
“I’m saying it anyway. Raziel thought it was worth hiding the humans. I would want to find out what these humans know before the big A takes them out.
“Good thing I’m not you then. Give it a rest, Blaize.”
Blaize leaned against the bookcase with his arms crossed over his chest. “Trust me, I don’t give a crap about what goes down with the Archangels, but it really pisses me off when they go after beings who can’t defend themselves.”
Lucca paused, his hand on one of the books. He shoved it back into place on the shelf as he leveled his gaze on Blaize. “Who would have known the great Dark Ang
el has a bleeding heart.”
“Yeah, well, we all have a heart. It’s what we choose to do with it that tells us what it’s worth.”
Lucca stared at him in disbelief. Blaize was a Darklin, a Dark Angel, which made him half demon, half angel and neither being was prone to care about humans in the capacity Blaize was suggesting. “What do you propose I do? Raise my broadsword and take on Barachiel?”
Blaize looked away. The muscles in his jawline working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.
“Good Lord, you do want me to pick up a sword. Barachiel is the Archangel of Lightning. He’d blast my arse to hell and back before I could swing the damn weapon, or have you forgotten my wings are bound?”
Blaize looked at him, not unsympathetically. “You have your brethren to back you up.”
Lucca chortled with snort of disbelief. “The brethren are who bound my wings. They would probably be relieved if Barachiel took me out.” He shook his head and returned to his search. If he didn’t find the Book of Magic, he was doomed no matter what. He doubted Barachiel would appreciate a good attempt at finding the book and call it a day. He either showed up with what Barachiel wanted or he was looking at a nice toasty ending. That is if Kordon didn’t get to him first or his father.
He could feel Blaize’s heated gaze on him. He didn’t need a conscience right now. Not with demons and Archangels breathing down his back, wanting something from him. He didn’t trust either preternatural being, but he was on his own. His brethren tossed him out. Just because he had a nice sit down with Eli, it didn’t mean the Watchers were going to welcome him back into the fold with open arms.
Besides, he had no plans of just handing over either book without a concrete plan. Archangels and the Hashasheens had the tendency to clean up loose ends and he had a hunch he was going to be one of them.
“What’s your interest in the humans anyway?” Lucca shouldn’t ask, but his tongue never minded its own business.
“What if Raziel hid the humans because he cares for one of them or perhaps both?”
Lucca’s gaze riveted to him. “What are you saying? Do you think an Archangel can have feelings toward a human? Fall in love with one?”
Lucca Page 18