The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2
Page 2
Her head bent and she leaned in closer, her heated scent increasing until every breath he took drew her in. As she neared, the pupils of her eyes—now dark violet—widened further. She licked her lips and bent to his neck.
Jackson stiffened and, again, stopped breathing. But he still didn’t move to throw her off. Shit, was this what the stories always said about vampires? Their ability to mesmerize their prey so they didn’t know what was happening until it was too late? Even though she’d said she was not a vampire, he imagined he’d feel the same confronted by one.
If so, what a way to go.
She inhaled deeply, swinging her nose up along the edge of his neck until just under his jawline. Her breath was warm and moist. The rasp of her nose against his skin made him shiver. By this time, her damp chest pressed against his, the fullness of her breasts making his fingers itch to cup their softness.
He drank in her nearness, entranced by the feelings her touch evoked. Afraid that any movement on his part would frighten her, send her bolting like an unbroken filly, he remained still. Silent. Waiting.
This was a side to the fiery demon he’d never expected. She pulled back, her eyes so wide and dark they filled her face. Jackson sucked in a breath, staring at her pink, full lips as she moved in.
A door slammed. He jerked at the sound. Above him, Mari stopped moving, her body rigid.
“Um, Mari? Jackson? You two okay?” Lexi’s smooth, velvet-edged voice cut in.
Ah hell.
“I don’t know, Mikos. Seems we might have interrupted something.” The trace of laughter under Lexi’s words acted like a cold shower. And a reminder that no matter how attractive the woman above him was, Mari was still a demon.
“Indeed, love,” Mikos rumbled, an echo of amusement in his tone.
Before Jackson could move, Mari did.
Mari flung herself off the human, ignoring his grunt, not caring if she did any damage. Fires of Hell, what was she doing? Was she mad? To pounce on the mortal male as if he were necessary to her survival? She’d only meant to tease him. To show him she—never him—was in control. She hadn’t expected to feel the swell of attraction rising within. Hadn’t expected she’d want to run her tongue over every inch of him, tasting the sweetness of male sweat and sun-warmed skin.
Without a backward glance and sure her face was afire with red, something she rarely experienced, she hastened across the floor and snatched a towel off the table. She roughly rubbed at her neck and shoulders, seeking her calm center before turning back to face Lexi, Mikos and that cursed human, Jackson.
From under the dubious shield of the towel, Mari peered at Jackson. After struggling to his feet, he seemed to make an adjustment to the front of his jeans. Smug satisfaction crossed her lips for a brief moment before it faded. While she didn’t know a lot about the human act of sex, she knew enough to know what was going on with him.
She hoped he suffered.
“So, what’s going on here?” The humor in Lexi’s tone now included curiosity. When Mari turned her gaze on the Defender, Lexi’s amber eyes gleamed with interest.
While Mari would never call the mortal female a friend, over the last six months she had found grudging respect for the strong woman who not only defeated Beliel but also redeemed a fallen angel.
The same angel who had fallen in love and sacrificed his return to Heaven to stay on Earth as Lexi’s companion. The notion that Mikos, or any of their kind, could love a human was foreign. And give up Heaven? Give up the majority of his powers? Mari didn’t understand.
Not that she wanted to return to Heaven. She didn’t. Her life as a warrior on the side of Heaven suited her just fine. Although she had to admit, she enjoyed what the humans offered. What they’d made for themselves on this little planet. The food, shopping and especially the places of Nirvana they called spas.
But, still, at times her soul longed for something else. Something solid. A means to feel. She could laugh, she could cry, but she didn’t feel. Those were just surface reactions, responses required due to special situations. Sometimes in release. But never real emotions. Not like the ones she saw in Mikos’s eyes when he looked at his human companion.
Mari switched her gaze to him. Mikos stood at Lexi’s side, her partner and lover, and also watched Mari, his gray glance sharp and assessing. She resisted the urge to duck her head. Companions since Before, Mikos knew her like no other. Not lovers, but family in a way many of the Fallen were before some decided to return to the Light. He’d never understood why she was willing to turn her back on Lucifer but did not want to return to Heaven. What did he think now? Now that, by his choice after being forgiven, he would never again enter through the pearly gates to face the Lord Almighty?
He certainly seemed happy. The restlessness that had plagued him for almost a century was gone. Contentment had taken its place. While he still went about on missions for the Archangel Michael, being at home with his human seemed to be enough for him.
Whereas she, Mari, needed the continual motion of something to do. Some relic to chase, some bad guy to fight. There’d been no lack of opposing forces, but nothing like they’d experienced before Beliel returned—not by his choice—to Hell.
“My fault,” Jackson said into the silence. His husky twang echoed in the cavernous room. Did anyone else hear the strain under the words? “I’m afraid I startled her while she was training.”
Mari shifted her gaze back to him and caught his wry grin. “I grabbed her by the shoulder,” he continued. “She must have thought I was a bad guy.”
She tightened her lips. He was a bad guy. Bad for her, if not evil. A former mercenary, working for the highest bidder no matter the details, the tall Texan mortal male had left his last employer to help them.
His last employer being the demon Beliel. Lucifer’s son. A surprise revelation for Mari and Mikos. How the secret had been kept so long was even more surprising. When Asher, Lucifer’s Slayer, had come to help Mikos, had he known of the familial relationship? If he did, why wouldn’t he have shared that little bit of information? But then, the Slayer had always been secretive.
As for the sandy-haired mortal male, she wasn’t sure if she trusted him, despite the past six months. It had taken her several months before she stopped expecting him to do something against them, but he hadn’t. Still, he seemed to have his own agenda, and she worried that one day it wouldn’t mesh with theirs. When that happened, would she have to kill him?
And why didn’t that give her pleasure like it once had?
“Uh-huh.” Doubt tinged Lexi’s tone. She stared at Jackson and her eyebrows rose inquiringly. A faint smile crossed his lips, and he hitched his shoulders. When their silent conversation was finished, Lexi turned to Mari.
She simply returned the questioning look. Since tangling with Jackson in that way would not happen again, she was not about to enter into a discussion about her momentary weakness.
Lexi shrugged. “Works for me.” The Defender fidgeted, rocking from side to side. Mikos placed a calming hand on her shoulder. She swung her gaze up to him and smiled. At the slow smile he gave Lexi in return, Mari’s breath hitched.
The flush of passion she felt earlier returned. Not as much as before, but the look that passed between the mortal female and the once-fallen angel left Mari with an ache she didn’t understand. She clenched her fingers, barely feeling her nails dig into her skin.
Realizing what she was doing, she shook out her hands, then said, “What’s going on? Is something the matter?”
Mikos nodded. “A little matter that requires our attention.”
Ah yes, time to go on another mission for the Light. The surge of anticipation made her nerves twitch. Since the trip to Nepal for the Buddha two weeks before, things had gotten too quiet. “Good.” She tossed the towel to the table. “When do we leave?” She strode for the door.
“We do not leave. This mission is just for Lexi and me.”
Mikos’s words stopped her as if she’d slamme
d into a wall. Turning slowly, she glanced between him and Lexi.
“I’m sorry, Mari.” Lexi gave Mari an apologetic look. “Michael’s message was explicit. Just Mikos and I are to go.”
Mari frowned. “Where? What is the mission?”
Lexi and Mikos exchanged another look. “We are not permitted to speak of it,” Mikos said.
Mari’s frown deepened. “Not permitted? What game is Michael playing?”
“No game, Marisol. Michael doesn’t have that kind of humor.” A smile twitched at the corner of Mikos’s mouth.
“Then what?”
“Listen, Mari, we aren’t happy about this either,” Lexi said. “It’s not like Michael gave us a choice. You know how he is.” She crossed her arms. “‘It is your destiny to battle the demons of Hell and save the world from darkness’,” she intoned, sounding remarkably like Michael.
Even pissed, Mari couldn’t stop her chuckle from escaping. Mikos shook his head, the twist of his lips indulging.
“Okay, okay,” she said holding up her hands. “I get it. Just stop with the Michael bit.”
Lexi laughed. “Hey, just telling it like it is.”
“So,” Mari said, “how long will you be gone?”
“At least a month.”
“A month?” Restlessness tugged at Mari’s feet. “What are we supposed to do for a month?”
“I’m sure you can find something to occupy your time, Marisol.” As if he couldn’t bear to be so close to Lexi and not touch her, Mikos put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side.
Another pang swept through Mari at the tender gesture. “Oh, I can,” she drawled, glad that at least her voice was even toned and clear. No mushy feelings cluttering her mind and ability to fight. “I just didn’t think you’d want me to find something to keep myself busy.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” Jackson drawled. “I’ll make sure you’re not bored.”
She slid him a flat glance. “I don’t need your help, human. I can take care of myself.”
“Well, sure, honey, but it’s not you I’m worried about.” He leaned forward and an eyebrow lifted. “I’m afraid my fellow humans wouldn’t survive the experience.”
Three days after Lexi and Mikos left on their secret mission, Mari slouched in the big chair in Mikos’s study, a recent woman’s magazine open on her lap, showing the newest must-haves for the fall. Or so the writer claimed. While some of the clothing had a stark attractiveness to them, the styles were neither comfortable nor sturdy. She’d found this out when she’d first taken to human form.
The high-heeled shoes and boots had definitely been sexy, but she could barely walk in them, much less kick ass. And the narrow skirts and tailored jackets left her unable to move and flex. When she’d been surprised by a demon attack, the hell-spawned clothing had nearly been her undoing. So she’d burned all the wicked high heels and traded in tight skirts and confining tops for formfitting black jeans and long-sleeved tee shirts with an occasional fitted jacket made of flexible material.
Her one indulgence was her boots. Most times she wore ankle-high, sturdy boots with low heels and solid toes, but sometimes she couldn’t help donning the higher heels and more decorative styles.
Mari kicked her jean-clad leg back and forth, restlessness she couldn’t seem to shake threatening to burst forth in a flurry of teeth and claws. The flickering flames from the fireplace reflected her mood as they seemed to struggle to burst from the confines of the surrounding stone. Fires of Hell, boredom tugged at her will, sapping her strength.
For the first time, she was left alone in Mikos’s huge mansion with no one for company. Even Gordie was gone. He’d been allowed to join Lexi and Mikos.
At the sound of masculine singing—a deep-timbered voice mixed with the sandpaper scratch of another—coming from somewhere in the house, Mari frowned.
Not alone at all. How could she have forgotten?
Before she could ignore the raucous noise, words crept under her defenses.
While she couldn’t make out the words with total clarity—she heard lyrics, sung in horrendously off-key tones—about a Scotsman stumbling behind a bush. When the Scotsman lifted his kilt, he saw something that made him think he’d won some kind of prize. Following the chorus, the discordant sounds of masculine laughter set her nerves on edge. Mari pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes skyward, the direction of the clamor. Jackson and the Illianian shapeshifter, Rocky, had formed an immediate bond. Probably because of their affinity for debauchery and drunken carousing.
Irritation with herself aggravated her already dark mood. She tossed the magazine to the floor and with a flick of her fingers, incinerated it. With satisfaction, she watched it burn. Just the magazine—not Mikos’s carpet. He likely would not approve of her using fire in his house, but since he wasn’t currently in residence, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, as the humans said.
“In a bit of a snit, cousin?”
The cool voice broke into her reverie, the rich, sensual tone sending a ripple of awareness up her spine. And she hadn’t thought she could be more aggravated. She really didn’t have the patience.
“Since when does Lucifer’s Slayer consort with those lesser beings other than his magnificent self?” she retorted, pleased at how sarcastic she sounded.
She raised her eyes and met the hard, washed-out eyes—like glacial ice—of Asher Dakeni, Hell’s most ruthless warrior. Like many of the Fallen, he wore black from head to toe, the unrelieved darkness broken here and there by buckles and the silver flash of weaponry tucked into his belt. Dark hair flowed over his shoulders, absorbing the fire’s reflection. His face was a study of hard edges and a chiseled jaw that did nothing to diminish his striking appearance. A lethal appearance designed to instill fear into those who pissed off Lucifer.
A list she and Mikos currently topped.
In the shuffle for position within the two hundred angels who had fallen with Lucifer, it hadn’t taken Asher long to dominate the others and take the most coveted and deadly position at Lucifer’s side. Because of his role, Asher spent his time alone. Except lately, he’d been hanging around Mikos.
Once, the two angels had been as close as brothers. When Mikos gave up Hell and allegiance to Lucifer, Asher hadn’t been able to forgive Mikos and they’d become enemies. But now, they were wary allies. During the last confrontation with Lucifer’s son, Asher had offered, without charge or invoking fine print, information which ultimately led to Beliel’s defeat, even if Asher had neglected to tell them of the familial relationship. Whether or not Lucifer knew what his Slayer had done, judging by his appearance, it seemed that Asher had come out just fine.
And for a demon, especially one of Asher’s status, to give something with nothing in return was rare. But then, a demon as powerful as Asher had no need to barter.
What he wanted, he took.
“Come now, Marisol. Is that any way to show respect?”
Mari snorted. Deadly or not, Asher had never seen her bow to him. She’d not start now. “Slayer, if you want respect, then you should go bother someone else. I’m sure you can find any number of sycophants willing to kiss your booted feet for a chance to get on Lucifer’s good side. Supposing he has one.”
Asher sauntered over to Mikos’s large mahogany desk and sat in the chair. Leaning back, he placed one aforementioned booted heel on the polished surface. She winced. He was going to leave a dark smudge. She frowned. How the hell was she going to explain that to Mikos? Especially since he thought his wards were now strong enough to keep Asher out? Wary allies or not, Mikos didn’t like the idea Asher could enter and leave at his will.
Apparently his wards weren’t powerful enough. Or Ash had gotten much stronger. It didn’t bear thinking about either one of those options.
In what she hoped was a casual movement—it didn’t pay to be too unconcerned around the Slayer—Mari uncurled her legs and stood. After crossing to the large window looking out into the
garden, she halted and pulled back the drape then peered out. In contrast to her mood, the sun shone brightly, illuminating the multicolored leaves as they changed from the dull green of summer into their fall display.
In one of the more affluent areas of suburban Chicago, Mikos’s place was nestled in the center of a veritable forest. One of the few places where the next house was a distance from the other. Especially good in Mikos’s case. He valued his privacy. Good thing, because many things that happened here should be private.
She glanced over her shoulder at Ash. At ease, he stared at her in silence as if he had all the time in the world.
Finally, she offered, “Mikos isn’t here.”
Gloved fingers drummed on the dark wood. Not impatience—probably designed to unsettle her.
“Yes. I am aware of that,” he said. “I did not come to talk to Mikos.” He held up a finger before she could speak. “Or the mortal female.”
Mari lifted a brow. Interesting. “Then what do you want?”
“I came to speak to you. To give you information. And a warning.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He’d never once sought her out. Not even when she was still in Hell, and certainly not when she’d left with Mikos. “Oh?”
Asher’s long legs swung off the desk, and he stood. With relaxed grace, he paced to the other side of the fireplace. “Beliel is free again.”
After she finished a less than satisfying bout of swearing under her breath, she muttered, “Someone needs to put a leash on that bastard.” She released the curtain as she moved away from the window. Scowling at Asher, she continued, “Is he coming here?”
If that was the case, she needed to warn Mikos and Lexi. Wherever they were. Eight months ago, they had defeated Beliel. The demon’s life had been spared only because he turned out to be Lucifer’s son. Something about keeping the balance and favors earned.
She didn’t care. If she’d been at that battle instead of in the Twilight trying to find her way back after the bitch succubus Jahi sent her there, she’d have killed the bastard. They’d all known Beliel would return. Mari just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.