The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure

by A. K. Alexander

  It had been a ruse, probably from the beginning. This entire heist had been nothing more than a way to kill Clay for letting me get the relic.

  Screw that.

  I wasn’t about to let them take out my partner.

  My gun had landed half a dozen feet to my left and I slid on my side, not caring that the dress tangled high around my hips. My fingers brushed the gun’s grip and I rolled upright, pinpointing the attacker’s location and firing as I hurried toward the window.

  Clay had to be okay. Our escape counted on him being able to walk out of here. Though if I didn’t take this guy out, neither one of us would make it out alive.

  The assailant ducked behind a massive pedestal and I took two more shots. I paused at the window, back to the darkness and waited, finally in my element.

  Every noise, movement, color, and smell faded away, leaving nothing but my target and the bullet I’d use to eliminate him. I held my breath, sighted on the pedestal, and let the air spill slowly from my nostrils, one eye unblinking.

  He moved quickly, leaping up, but he was no match for me.

  I shot twice, catching him under the eye and in the throat. Blood splattered across three paintings behind him and he fell forward. I dove out the window, escaping before he hit the ground.

  Landing in the deep snowbank, I spilled forward and scurried toward Clay’s prone form. He’d hit his head hard and blood colored the snow beneath him. The shot had barely grazed him, thankfully, so he was moving. But not fast enough. I needed to get us out of there fast. If they’d sent a shooter, they’d damn sure have the exits covered and I wanted to kill as few people as possible. Maybe they’d assume the ambush had worked, but that meant our window was closing fast.

  I holstered the gun with the knives, at my thigh, and grabbed the front of his jacket. “You okay?”

  He grimaced and pushed my hands away. “No.” He shook his head, pressing his hand to the back of it with a scowl. “I didn’t see that guy at all. Total ambush.”

  “We have to go. Now.”

  He groaned and tried to sit up, and I pushed him onto his feet, pulling his arm around my shoulders, but he straightened and took a wobbling step away, cradling his injured arm. “Oh, sure. I say that and it means take your damn time and pick up more stuff.”

  We didn’t have time to argue. I took off, needing him to follow. “Can you make it to the car?”

  “I’d rather wait here and let you pull it around.” He walked stiffly behind me.

  “That was a rhetorical question, dammit. If you can’t take a fucking bullet then I’m not bringing you anymore.” I threw his words back at him, more to get him moving than really meaning them.

  He mumbled a retort but I ignored him as we hurried through the chaos and cover of darkness, skirting the huge mound of snow in which we’d landed and crossing to the brick walkway that led to the back delivery entrance. We’d stashed the catering van on the back quadrant of the property, and we had less than five minutes to get there and off the property before being spotted.

  We made it to the van. “You drive,” Clay said, rounding the back and getting in the passenger side. His shoulder was hurting him, and I had to give him credit for not being a baby. Getting shot sucked and even the best of us got pulled out of our game when it happened. I started the engine and eased toward the gate—unmanned, thanks to the commotion inside. Moving the high-profile guests out of the building would be the guards’ top priority. It was possible that no had discovered our shooter yet.

  I was worried now about who Clay’s buyer still had coming after us. Nobody at the party, including Sir and Mrs. Jeffries, had any reason to suspect us of anything at this point.

  Even as I fretted, I kind of had to admit that other than the ambush, and Clay getting shot, I liked these heists. They were a lot more exciting than assassinations. They were boring in comparison; I didn’t ever get to use distraction and misdirection. Tonight had been exhilarating, and doing it with a partner hadn’t sucked.

  Said partner moaned as the van hit a bump. “Sorry. I have to get us off the property before they get it enough together to start stopping vehicles and searching them.”

  “Yeah … fine.” He shrugged out of his jacket and pressed the cloth of it into his shoulder.

  I downshifted and pulled onto the main road, then let out a heavy breath. “We made it,” I said.

  “Don’t stop for anything. Leave the luggage in the Rover. Go straight to Ralph’s.” His voice held none of his normal humor, which made me think the ambush bothered him far worse than the pain of the wound.

  We’d need to talk about what happened and assess the threat level of whoever had ordered the hit on him. But right now I needed to get us to safe ground, and that included picking up our stuff that we’d stashed in the Range Rover. “Are you sure? What about our stuff?” I hated leaving a trail, but at least they were stashed where they’d be contained by the agency until I could get to them. Better than leaving them in the castle.

  He shook his head and I glanced over at him. He was pale, and lines creased the skin at the corners of his mouth. Maybe his shoulder was worse than I thought. Or maybe he had a concussion. “Clay?”

  “Ralph’s. Do it.”

  It would take me almost an hour to get there and I couldn’t let him bleed out. I watched the road for a turnoff and took the first one I could find. We were more than three miles from the castle and that gave me enough time to get him to a point we could at least travel without me having to worry about him. I’d clean and dress it when we got to Ralph’s.

  Damn, that had been a disaster.

  I jammed the truck into park and dug through the smattering of items in the back of the van. The stone pressed into my breast as I found a box of cleaning towels and hurriedly worked on him. The bullet had carved a neat line through the curve of his shoulder. It hadn’t gone too deep, but he still needed stitches.

  “Never been shot?” I tried to distract him while I mopped up the blood.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Not my thing. So, no.”

  I met his gaze and shook my head. “That I can handle. Dresses, parties, rich jackasses, not so much. Give me people shooting at me any day.”

  “I shouldn’t have taken the job. You shouldn’t have been there.”

  Neither of us should have been there, but now was not the time to chastise him. That was the second time that I’d written off my instincts and if I wasn’t careful, we weren’t going to make it through a third. I tied off the makeshift bandage and made a sling. “Good thing I was.”

  He closed his eyes and I didn’t like the beads of sweat that covered his top lip. “Hang in there,” I whispered, brushing my fingertips across his cheek.

  He tried to make a joke, but it fell flat. His fingers brushed my thigh. “Some party.”

  I climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled us back onto the road, pushing the speed limit as much as I dared.

  Lina

  With every mile, Clay grew more sullen and silent. By the time I pulled up in front of Ralph’s flat I was seriously worried about him. And considering the lengths and layers the buyer had put in place for this hit, we were in danger until Clay was dead or we eliminated the threat. Until I knew more about the buyer, I had to proceed under the assumption that he would not stop until Clay paid for what he’d done during our first heist.

  Clay opened his eyes. “Can’t park here.”

  “I have to get you inside. Shut up.”

  He shook his head and grabbed my arm. “Do it now. We can’t risk it.”

  I searched his face, rescinding my earlier glee at having a partner. This anxiety was going to kill me. I grabbed his hand and held it while I moved the van to the far end of the street and on the other side of it.

  I hurried around to his side and hoped that for anyone watching, we’d look like two drunk revelers home from our holiday fun. The cold bit through my bare feet and I helped him get the jacket around his shoulders so the sling and
the blood weren’t visible. We had a couple hundred yards, and then I had to hope that Anna wouldn’t leave us standing on the stoop for too long.

  His body grew heavier as he leaned on me. “We’re almost there. You can do this.” I was terrible at encouragement and hoped that he didn’t pass out on me before we got the door and inside. The stairs kicked his ass and he gripped the stone railing as he climbed each of the steps. “Couple more feet.”

  His breathing was labored, and he’d gone from pale to green and he’d started shaking at the bottom of the stairs. I knocked rapidly on the door.

  “Do they know we’re coming?” His voice was thready and my muscles burned from holding him up.

  “Yeah, but not for another couple hours. I thought we’d have time to change, clean up, and then come over.”

  Thankfully, the door opened to Anna’s sweet grin, which quickly changed to concern. She stepped outside to help me bring Clay inside. “Take him to the living room and lay him on the sofa.”

  I struggled under the weight of him but I couldn’t quit on him now. I dug my fingers into his ribs to keep him upright. “Come on, Clay. Don’t be such a baby.” I looked back at Anna. “You, don’t want him on the sofa. He’s bleeding. I need to stitch him up.”

  “Dining room. The bench,” she said.

  He growled and straightened a few inches, picking his feet up as we moved closer to the kitchen. I didn’t remember seeing a bench in the dining room when I’d been here last, but as we came out of the long hallway into the room at the back of the house, I was pleasantly surprised to see it looking normal and not crammed to the ceiling with boxes and papers.

  “I did a little cleaning up once you said you were coming,” Anna said from behind us.

  Thank god. Stitching Clay and giving him a place to rest his head in a narrow trench of Ralph’s life would have been tough. This improved my outlook drastically. She helped me get him onto the bench and I held his head as he swiveled around and lay back. “I’ve got you.”

  His fingers reached for me and I let him settle them around the back of my knee. Anna hurried off toward the sink to get cloths.

  “I’ll need something to sew him up too.”

  “I have just the thing.” She tossed me a stack of towels and I set them on the floor next to him.

  “Okay,” I said, “this is going to suck. A lot.”

  He grimaced and tried to shift and sit up but I put three fingers on his forehead and held him down. “Stay put.”

  “Either kill me or fix me. Can you get me a shot of something?” His eyes focused on Anna.”

  “I have just the thing.” She went to the cupboard and took out a bottle of brandy and started to fill a shot glass.

  “Just bring me the bottle,” Clay said.

  She did and he took a big swig. “Okay.” He sighed and looked at me.

  I unraveled the makeshift dressing I’d put on him.

  “Make it look pretty,” he said.

  He still had his sense of humor, and that was good. Once he lost that, I was in deep shit. But I also knew that if I could get him stitched up, we’d be fine. He hadn’t lost much blood before I’d gotten him patched, but the pain was not helping and I needed to get him stitched.

  Anna brought me a full military medical kit and I grasped both her arms and kissed her cheek. “Bless you.”

  “Tell me what to do and I’ll help, dear.”

  Ralph announce his entrance into the room as he tapped his cane on the wood floor and grinned, his white hair flying wildly around his head with wiry eyebrows to match. “How was your trip?” he asked. “Good I hope. Supposed to get a nor’easter in through tomorrow, but not for a day or two. Glad you made it. Christmas in two days! I love Christmas!” He crossed the room until his failing eyesight figured out what was going on.

  I patted his arm. “Hey, Ralph. We’ve got a situation here.”

  “I say.” He peered closer to Clay’s face. “I told you not to piss her off.”

  Clay laughed and it turned into a guttural growl. I let Ralph distract him while I ordered Anna around and cut away Clay’s tuxedo shirt. The blood had dried and crusted, which was good, but as I peeled away the fabric, it reopened most of the wound. Anna was a doll and took away all the mess as I got it off him, cleaned it up, and stitched him closed.

  More than a few strings of curses flew from him, interrupting Ralph’s storytelling, but Clay handled it like a champ. At the end, I shot him with morphine that I’d found in the kit and wiped my hands on one of the damp, clean towels Anna had brought over. He could use the rest for his head—both from the worrying and the concussion.

  “You could have found the morphine before you sewed me up!”

  I straightened and stretched, then looked at the war zone we’d made of Anna’s clean kitchen. “I’m so sorry,” I said sheepishly, but I was speaking to Anna.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Anna said. “I would always prefer that you come here with such situations.” She glanced at Ralph. “We’ve seen our share of things, and I can usually fix near anything.” She took the dirty towel from me, laid a clean warm one on Clay’s forehead, and took a load of mess outside to the trash.

  “I wish my dog was here,” Clay said. “I need to call my dog-sitter Dee and see how he is. She said I had to come get him by the twenty-seventh.” His eyelids drooped and I shifted, leaning down to check his pulse. It was strong and sure, but he needed rest. “Just relax, okay? I can check on Marvin.”

  “Her number is in my cell under Dee. Thanks.” He crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. I searched his eyes for signs of pain. His bloodied fingers cradled my face and he said, “You’re a terrible wife, I hope you know. But the only partner I’ll ever want.”

  Lina

  The next day was Christmas Eve, and I woke up in a pair of borrowed pajamas from Anna. They were too short and too big in the waist but they kept me warm enough.

  It was mid-morning already and I realized how exhausted I must have been. I’m typically an early-bird-catches-the-worm kind of girl. But as chaotic a place as Ralph’s was, there was also something so cozy and comfortable about it.

  I heard some clattering coming from the kitchen and the smell of bacon hurried me down the stairs.

  Ralph was seated at the table with a cup of tea and a full plate of breakfast. He spotted me and rubbed his palms together. “Good, good. I don’t like taking a meal alone. Anna made some for you and Clay as well. She just had to run out, something about getting the two of you some clothing.”

  “Oh.” The gesture was sweet, but I was skeptic that the sixty-something caregiver might find anything that I’d wear, and even in my size. Then, there was Clay! Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers. “That is very kind of her.”

  “That is my Anna. You know that she has been taking care of me ever since my dear wife passed?”

  “She is a lovely woman.”

  “Yes. Yes, she is.”

  “Have you seen Clay yet?”

  “Sleeping still. Anna checked on him. I say let him rest,” Ralph replied. “Do get some breakfast. There is plenty there.”

  I did as he instructed and plated up some eggs, bacon and toast, and made tea. I sat down across from him and took hungry bites of the savory food.

  Ralph looked up at me from his plate. “What happened last night?”

  “We were ambushed. Someone wanted Clay dead. It wasn’t so much about me, but about him last night. It was seriously a close call.”

  “By Azazel’s men?” he asked, referring to the Angel of Death who had stolen my Griffin’s soul.

  I shook my head. No, had the Angel of Death sent his main guy, Harrold, after us, I wouldn’t be near as unsettled. At least I knew about him and had encountered him once already. This was different. This was personal and I didn’t like Clay being on the wrong end of an assassination attempt. A nearly successful one.

  “Not Azazel’s men. We’re safe for now, but I’ll need to come up with a plan going forward. An
d I’ll need to get this situation cleaned up before we go after the second relic…” I lifted my gaze to Ralph. “But I’m worried about the guy who put this attack together. He was the reason I met Clay at Felt’s. He was after the ring. The first relic. He wanted Solomon’s ring. Do you think he’s aware of the keys that lead to unlocking the gates of Hell, and knows that the ring is the first key?”

  Ralph sat down heavily in his chair. “This is not someone you can underestimate. Azazel has men and women everywhere and it is possible that this buyer of Clay’s is one of them. Metatron put the two of you together for a reason. Nothing is a coincidence. Clay may be more in this journey than a simple sidekick.”

  I sighed and rubbed my temple. I took the stone that I’d taken from the castle out of the pajama pocket. I’d taken if off the nightstand and placed it in my pocket before coming downstairs. I wanted Ralph to take a look, since he’d given me a matching one a few months back. He’d had asked me if there was anything in the house, particularly the office where he kept most of his collected relics and artifacts that I wanted. I’d eyed the stone and had been inexplicably drawn to it, so he’d said that I could have it. It had been a simple stone, nothing extraordinary, and so mundane compared to everything else in Ralph’s collection. When I’d taken it, I’d thought it simply reminded me of my mother—the sand of the stone the same color as the earth of the dig in Jordan where she’d died. But now, with this match... I didn’t think that was why I’d been drawn to it at all.

  “It’s a consideration. Isn’t it? That Clay is more than just someone to help me get to the relics. And, check this out. This was in the same room of the castle we came from last night, where we, uh, we had a job to do. Obviously, the job didn’t pan out as planned and was a setup. I almost missed this, though, as we were being fired at by whoever was sent to kill Clay.”

  Ralph reached for the stone and I handed it over. “Do you still have the other half?”