I nodded. “But not here.”
“I have something to show you,” Ralph said. “Finish your breakfast.”
A few moments later, stomachs full and plates rinsed, I followed Ralph toward the front of the house and through the doors to his overcrowded study. Passing by the living room, I could hear Clay softly snoring, and I smiled and sighed in relief.
Inside Ralph’s office, I paced the small expanse of open floor while he settled into the only chair, tucked against his unorganized desk. “Something Anna found while we cleaned out the kitchen.” He motioned toward a new stack of boxes that hadn’t been crowding the room the last time we were here. “In that top one.”
I lifted up on my tiptoes and opened the flaps. The box held an assortment of relics, papers, and coins.
“On the top, a linen satchel. See it?” he asked.
I spotted it beneath a haphazardly stapled stack of papers, and drew it out. “This?”
He nodded and held out his hand for it. “I don’t believe in coincidences, Lina. Not where the Book of Enoch is concerned, and I know Metatron would not be pleased if I didn’t put these pieces together. He would have known about the ambush tonight, would have known whether you survived it or not … and also would have known about the existence of the other half of the stone.”
Metatron had strange ideas about helping and I preferred to figure things out myself since he had a flair for exuberance that didn’t suit me. If he’d been part of the assassination attempt on Clay, then he was seriously on my shit list, especially if he’d done it to manipulate me toward the stone.
I shook my head, dismissing the thought. He’d put Clay and I together, and while Metatron’s code was annoying, so far he’d only kept details from me because he couldn’t tell me. I really didn’t believe that he’d set Clay up—risking my life in the process—just to get me to a relic.
“The stones are from the Garden of Gethsemane. Do you know the name?”
I frowned, finding it familiar. “That’s where Judas betrayed Jesus, right?”
He grinned. “Correct. These halves are from there, said to be from a single stone that James picked up to defend Jesus and the other apostles that night against the approaching soldiers.”
“I don’t remember that part.”
“Because you know the canon—those stories included in the Bible—not the other stories. Not the truth of that night because they weren’t important to those seeking to further Christianity. The part of the evening’s events that were included in the Bible references only Peter’s attack with the sword against the soldier. But all the men that night in the garden with Jesus had been warned that they should be on watch. Jesus knew the betrayal of Judas was coming and when it did, they armed themselves, but only had one sword for all of them.” He pointed at the stone still curled in my fingers. “That is the weapon of James.”
It heated in my palm. I wasn’t sure I’d trust it in battle, but I knew better than to dismiss it. “Okay.”
“And this”—he shook the small bag and I heard coins inside—”is the silver paid to Judas.”
My lips parted and my throat tightened as I reached for it. He shook out the coins, only two. Tiny and tarnished. Such inconsequential tokens for such a historical event. My breath whistled out of my lungs and I shook my head. “And you think I’m meant to have them?”
“I think they’re tied to the next relic.” He took one of the coins from me and rubbed his thumb across the face. “You already have one complete weapon from that night... I believe that you are meant to find the sword Peter used as well.”
My eyes widened. Finding the first relic had been relatively easy because it had been an obscure thing hardly anyone wanted, too steeped in lore and legend. But this one … well, everyone would be after this one.
And, from the looks of it, everyone also included Clay’s buyer.
Lina
Anna came home and surprised us with clothes that were not only in the correct sizes but very stylish. I donned a red cashmere sweater in honor of Christmas and a pair of jeans she’d gotten me.
Clay was up and I’d made him some hot food, which he devoured. His sweater was also cashmere but black with a V-neck and I have to say that even with a large bruise on his right cheek, he looked pretty damn good.
A Christmas tree was delivered in the early afternoon and Anna and I decorated it in the window of the front room. Clay and Ralph watched and sipped brandy. Ralph did a good job at directing where each decoration went, and each one had a story behind it.
“I got this one in Hungary.” He pulled out a glass bulb ornament with a delicate-looking hummingbird suspended inside of it. The reds and greens from the bird’s feathers reflected off the light of the glass. “My missus picked it out. Such a lovely trip.”
I wanted to ask him about his wife, but didn’t want to dredge up painful memories, if any, for him.
“And, Clay, how about you. What is one of your favorite memories about Christmas?” Anna asked.
I took in a deep breath, not knowing what he might say, considering what he’d told me regarding his feelings on the holiday.
“You know what, Miss Anna…”
Uh-oh.
“Yes, dear?” Anna hung the hummingbird ornament.
“I have always loved Christmas carolers.”
“Is that right? Me, too,” Ralph interjected. “What is your favorite song?”
“’Silent Night,’” Clay replied.
I smiled at him and he smiled back. Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be as bad as I’d thought.
After dressing the tree, I helped in the kitchen. If Clay hadn’t been so hurt, I would’ve insisted that he help, too. He was there for moral support and read off the recipes from Anna’s recipe-card box for Christmas Eve dinner. Anna had been kind enough to switch up Christmas for us when she asked me which I enjoyed better … Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Of course, the memories of Christmas Eves spent with Griffin made that an easy response for me. So, instead of making the traditional meal for midday on Christmas day, she’d been sweet to make it on the Eve.
As I put the sauce in the fridge to solidify it over the next couple of hours, the doorbell rang. It was a little after four in the afternoon. I rubbed my palms together and glanced at Clay then Anna, who smiled knowingly at me. “I wonder who that could be.”
I went to the door with Anna and opened it. There stood a courier from Heathrow with a dog crate. I signed for it and brought the crate in, then opened the door. Out bounded Marvin, who headed straight back for the kitchen as if he knew exactly where he’d find Clay.
“Marvin!” Clay hollered. “How in the world?”
I walked into the kitchen seeing the site of Marvin lick Clay’s face to death. Clay smiled up at me. “You?”
I nodded.
“What? How?”
“Well, seeing that we are five hours ahead over here, I called Dee and asked if she’d mind taking Marvin to the private-plane entrance at JFK this morning. I made it worth her while.” I shrugged, getting embarrassed at the effort it had taken to get Marvin here in time for Christmas. “I had a friend with the agency, a pilot who owed me a favor, and knew would love to see the Paris lights at Christmas. He agreed, flew Marvin and his-soon-to-be fiancé here, and then they took off for Paris after hooking up with the courier service.”
He stood up and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a big hug. “Best present ever. Thank you, Lina.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I wish I had something for you.”
“You being happy with your dog on Christmas is good enough for me,” I replied and I meant it.
A couple of hours later as we set the readied food on the dinner table, the doorbell rang once again.
Anna and I exchanged glances. “Expecting anyone?”
“No. Ralph, are you?”
“No,” he replied, standing over his cane, surveying our place settings. Clay was finally feeling well enough that he was
in the kitchen carving the turkey.
“Probably carolers,” Anna said as she moved past me, heading to the front door.
Ralph stood and drew his cane across my body, silently demanding I stay put. I receded into the hallway of tall boxes and wished I could sneak into the kitchen and check on Clay.
I bit my lip and strained to hear who’d come to the door.
“Who’s calling, please?” Ralph’s voice boomed from the dining room as he pulled the door between it and the front entrance tight.
But even with the door closed, the voice on the other side resonated deeply in my chest and I raced toward the door, yanking it open. “Malcolm!”
He swept into the house, past an astonished Anna, who quickly shut and bolted the door. I hugged him tightly, holding him close. “Lina, my girl.” He pulled away, glancing at Ralph and Anna. “Please excuse my intrusion.” He bowed to Anna, then shook Ralph’s hand. “I only meant to stop and see her. She’s like a daughter to me. She’s my family. I won’t stay. I just needed to see her smiling face for Christmas before I head home.”
“Nonsense,” Anna said firmly, reaching up to take Malcolm’s hat and jacket. “If you’re Lina’s family, I certainly won’t go turning you away.”
Malcolm stretched his dark brown hand out and shook Ralph’s and Anna’s as he introduced himself. Ralph beamed, lost in the exchange and what was happening. He moved so quickly between lucidity and confusion that sometimes it startled me. “Fancy a brandy there, Malcolm? Then, a little sit-down for dinner?”
Malcolm’s hand brushed my shoulder and he asked a thousand questions with a lift of a single eyebrow.
I nodded, knowing that everything would be okay now. I had all my pieces here with me and for this slice of time, short and borrowed though it might be, I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Malcolm moved beside Ralph and answered his offer for a drink. “Don’t mind if I do. I appreciate your hospitality.”
Anna and I stood side by side in the foyer, then she took my hand and patted the back of it. “Never-ending, isn’t it dear, taking care of these boys.”
I smiled. “That’s no kidding.”
“Let’s check on your other one, then.”
The kitchen was cozy and after a round of introductions, Clay shared a brandy with Ralph and Malcolm. Anna and I decided that wine was more our speed for the evening’s festivities.
As I took a sip of red wine and sat down at the dinner table, Clay sat next to me. Marvin plopped right down at Clay’s feet. Malcolm sat across for us and I’m certain he had quite a few questions as to the nature of my relationship with Clay. I would have to assure him that it was nothing more than a partnership. Ralph sat at the head of the table with Anna by his side. It was more family together than I’d had in years—not my born-into family of course—not even one I’d chosen, but better, one that had chosen me.
Clay and I both looked at each other in surprise when the sound of clear and beautiful voices could be heard along the river Thames just across from Ralph and Anna’s neighborhood. The song was, of course, “Silent Night.”
“You okay?” I asked Clay.
His gaze flickered to my eyes. “I’m perfect. You?”
“Not half bad. Merry Christmas, Clay.” I held up my wine glass.
“Merry Christmas, Lina.” He clinked my glass with his.
Ralph then raised his glass. “Merry Christmas to all.”
We each returned the toast and for the next few hours, I found the solace and peace that only Christmas can bring, with people I never expected to celebrate such a revered day with. Oddly enough though, I really didn’t want to be anywhere else.
To be continued in:
The God Game
A.K. Alexander & Jen Greyson
Coming February 17, 2015!
Keep reading for a sneak preview.
Extras
God Game
Chapter One
And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest's, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. — Matthew 26:51-52
I relaxed into the stylist’s chair. This was a well-deserved luxury and one I didn’t do often. Most of the time my dark hair stayed in a simple ponytail to keep it contained and out of my way. Today’s decadence was a nice reprieve from recent events. I still had a hard time stringing together that a few short months ago, I’d come home from my fiancé’s funeral to be drawn into a search for a trio of relics that together, would open a gate to Hell. Oh, and the guy calling the shots? The earthly man, Enoch, who ascended into Heaven to become the archangel, Metatron.
Mika, my stylist, drew a round brush through my damp hair and flicked on the hairdryer, plunging me into a welcome sound bubble of my own thoughts. Metatron wasn’t letting me tackle this mission by myself though. Oh, no… He’d given me a fantastic assembly of a team. I had a scholar as ancient as the religious relics he knew as well as the liver spots on his own hand—though with his slipping mind, my confidence level of his wisdom slipped daily, but he made up for those memory gaps with a fierce fervor for this cause. He knew everything there was to know about the Book of Enoch, Metatron’s personal bible of all things heavenly, earthly, and below.
Then there was Clay, my partner-in-crime and a brilliant, yet flippant thief who didn’t take anything serious, except maybe the day’s fantasy football picks. Rounding out the stellar grouping was my aging mentor, currently recovering from hip surgery. He’d brought me up and recruited me into the “family business” of assassins for hire.
We were a motley crew, to be certain. But based on what I’d seen so far and what I feared lay in store for us, we might just be the best equipped to succeed.
I sighed and tried to let the tension melt from my body. To say I deserved a day at the spa was the understatement of the year. While Mika’s hairdryer cocooned me in a blanket of warmth and the brush tickled my scalp, I let my thoughts wander to Griffin, my fiancé, murdered in retaliation for my hired kill of a South Asian leader—or so I’d thought. With every new rock we’d turned over, I’d learned that not everything that had happened in my life was quite what I’d been told and Griffin’s death was only the first lie. The Angel of Death, Azazel—a former archangel in his own right—had intercepted Griffin’s soul. They’d boosted it like a painting and carted it off to hell, trapped him there and as his soul mate, I was the only one who could save him. Griffin’s holy soul—was a hot commodity apparently and Azazel was currently trapped in a prison of his own making, he’d steal whatever he needed to be set free.
Or so he thought. I’d already dealt with his number one guy, Harrold, a foot soldier sent to keep me from succeeding. But they’d underestimated me. Badly. And I would not fail Griffin… Not this time.
We’d already found the first relic, the ring of Solomon, along with a handful of items that we hoped would prove their importance soon. We had a rock from the Garden of Gethsemane, where Judas betrayed Jesus, two of the silver pieces that Judas had been paid in recompense for the betrayal, and a knife once thought to be possessed of powers that shielded a high priest from bad angels. My weaponry was as eclectic as my teammates… We had yet to see which was more useful—or the bigger liability.
Next on the agenda was relic number two and that was going to require the team to walk straight back into danger. All we knew was that the actual relic was another weapon used that night in the Garden, the sword that Simon Peter—Jesus’s right hand—had used against one of the soldiers that night when they came for Jesus. (He lopped a dude’s ear clean off!) From what Clay and I had been able to figure out—and he was definitely better versed in the religious relics—the sword had disappeared that night, lost in the fray of the events of the next few days and never really talked about, forsaken for the “trendier” relics like the shroud, the chalice from dinner earli
er in the evening, and even bits of the cross.
I’d wondered a lot over the last few months at the simplicity of the relics we’d found so far. Solomon’s ring held legendary status as holding the power to control demons, so that at least made a little sense as something that might open a gate to hell, but a stone? A knife? A sword? I thought for sure we were going after a holy set of keys, not a bunch of weaponry. But what did I know about opening the gates of hell, maybe that was exactly the kind of thing that opened them.
I hadn’t seen Metatron since a few days before Christmas, and he’d been as stingy as ever with details and clues. All he’d parted with was our next location—Greece. I assumed I was overdue for a visit from the archangel, but I figured he’d come see me as soon as he wanted to send us back on the trail. We had a limited amount of time to retrieve Griffin’s soul—apparently it was being stained by evil and the longer he stayed, the less he’d be like himself by the time I got him out of hell.
Mika finished and spun me around. I looked a little more like myself, except fancier. I met his eyes and smiled. He’d done far more for me today than just managing a few split ends. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re so very welcome. Don’t be such a stranger next time.” He flipped the ends of my hair forward, drawing my attention back to my own image. My dark hair fell in waves past my shoulders and before I’d left the house, I’d swiped a bit of mascara so I had lashes to frame my blue eyes, and gloss for a hint of pink across my lips. It hadn’t been much, but enough of an improvement that I looked less like a hired assassin cum relic hunter.
I pushed up out of the chair and grabbed my purse, but when I looked up to follow Mika he was frozen in place.
And not because I’d stunned him into silence with my good looks. The entire salon was frozen in time, one of Metatron’s fun tricks that he used when he showed up.
The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure Page 6