“Good,” she purred. “I haven’t had quite enough alone time with you.”
Mari heard the ghost scream just as she avoided a sneaky thrust of Beliel’s sword at her abdomen. While it would not have killed her, it would have hurt like hell. She knocked his strike away and heard the ghost scream again—a long, drawn-out wail. Apparently, Beliel heard this one. An invisible force punched her in the chest and threw her backward—fuck—into the opposite wall. He tossed her a satisfied smirk and in a blink appeared next to Jahi, who was struggling with Jackson not far from Catherine and—Lucifer’s Slayer.
Cerberus’s heads, what was he doing here? And where was Kat? Mari had seen the ghost arrive and hover near Catherine.
A movement and Jackson came flying through the air toward her. Mari barely managed to miss the impact as he crashed into the wall with a grunt. Sparing the human a glance, and seeing the blow had knocked him out, she collected herself to apport across the room.
“Hold,” Beliel shouted.
He swung his sword at Catherine’s body and as Ash growled, Beliel gestured and some sort of shimmering net thing struck Ash and stuck. The Slayer struggled but couldn’t seem to break the strands. “So, the Slayer,” Mari heard Lucifer’s son murmur. “Imagine seeing you here. I wonder what dear old Dad would say?”
With Beliel occupied by the puzzle of the Slayer’s appearance, Mari shifted her stance.
“Uh-uh, sister.” Beliel chided. “Come any closer and Jahi will kill the little human.”
“No!” Ash shouted.
Ignoring him, Mari said, “If you do that, you won’t get the skull.”
He shrugged. “There are other humans I can use. It will take some time to find another, but I have nothing but time.”
She snarled.
Catherine stirred and lifted her head. Her gaze tracked and focused on the Slayer. “Ash?” she mumbled.
Mari stiffened. She did not realize the little human knew the Slayer.
He smiled down at Catherine. “Hey, Kitty Kat.”
“Where am I? What’s going on? Why do I feel so…heavy?”
“It’s okay, Kat. Don’t worry.”
Mari frowned. Something was different here. She leveled a look between Ash and Catherine. He spoke to the human liked he cared for her. As far as Mari knew, the Slayer had only cared for one human. And he’d killed her.
Beliel chuckled. “You’ve been quite the rebel lately, haven’t you, Dakeni? Interfering where you shouldn’t be.”
“Don’t touch her.”
Mari frowned. “Want to let me in on your little play?”
Beliel looked at her. “You can’t see what the Slayer has done, sister? Look closer.”
She tossed him a glare then stared hard at Catherine. The human female met Mari’s gaze. She looked beyond the mortal surface, peering past the visible layers to what lay beneath. It took her just a few seconds to see what Beliel meant.
“Fires of Hell,” she breathed.
“Yes, indeed, the Slayer’s been a naughty boy.” Beliel shook his head and made a tsking sound. “No matter. I believe you’ve actually done me a service. Seems the original soul had been mortally wounded by my servant”—he glared at the shadowy figure crouching in one corner—“who I now don’t have to destroy, but with the addition of this new soul, I’ll have an even better guide. Jahi, take her.”
Ash’s struggles increased as he shot murderous looks at Beliel. The demon kept the sword pointed at the body now hosting the spirit of Lexi’s friend Kat. Mari couldn’t do anything but watch as Jahi touched Beliel with her other hand and disappeared. When they’d gone, the net holding Ash fell away. He surged to his feet.
“Ash,” Mari snapped. “What the hell did you do?”
He turned toward her, his lips pulled back over strong white teeth. There was a dark mix of fury and concern within the black depths of his eyes. “What I had to. And would do again.”
With no more than that, he disappeared.
From the embarrassing position of his ass on the floor, Jackson watched as the fallen angel called the Slayer disappeared. Meant he and Mari were the only ones left in the empty room, the broken pieces of the battle scattered all around them.
He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. His soul and body felt as battered as the room. Christ. What the hell was going on? He hadn’t understood any part of what the demons had been talking about and the lack of information was pissing him off.
He turned to face his partner in this mess. “Mari, care to explain what just happened?”
When his gaze met hers, he nearly drowned in the bruised purple of her eyes. Under the deep color something else lurked. Amped by the fight, behind the anger and frustration, he caught a glimpse of desire.
He barely had time to do more than widen his eyes. Mari lunged at him, propelled him backward and slammed him against the wall, her lips crashing over his. Held to the wall by her strength, he found himself unable to do more than breathe. And feel. Hell, and feel he did.
The taste of her lips against his brought back the kiss they’d shared after the sky jumping. He opened his mouth to hers. The sharp tips of her canines cut into his lower lip, allowing the tangy taste of blood to mix with the sweetness of her caress. Her tongue, tangling with his, sent shivers of desire racing through him.
Her mouth moved away, her teeth and lips trailing a path down his neck, biting and kissing, pain and pleasure. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth and his knees gave way. Holy shit. Wanting to taste her himself, he buried his face into the curve of her neck, inhaling her spicy musk along with the sweet bitterness of her sweat. He growled as he nipped her skin. Hard. Delicious, but he wanted more.
She thrust her pelvis against him, the fullness of her breasts pressing into his chest. He jumped, nearly coming in his freaking jeans when she grabbed his crotch and squeezed. Low animals sounds, growling and snarling, rumbled from between her lips. Fingernails dug at the button on his jeans. With a growl of his own, he cupped her head and dragged her mouth back to his.
And made a huge mistake.
He opened his eyes. And looked.
Even as his body demanded he bury his dick into her waiting warmth, the cold passion shining from her eyes, hard lines on her face, and almost animalistic sounds coming from her throat doused his ardor like immersing himself in a frozen lake.
Son, what the hell are you doing? With every ounce of fucking willpower he had—because it was all he could do not to match her lust—Jackson put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. She stumbled backward and made as if to leap on him again when he held up his hand.
“Back off, Mari.”
Her chest heaved, the rise and fall of her breasts begging him to return. Unwilling to move until the demon found her control, he waited, his eyes locked on her face. Even as she took in gulping breaths, her eyes glazed with lust and her lips, Christ, her lips were moist and swollen from their kiss. He recognized the look in her eyes when she realized what she’d been doing. Followed by the realization was anger at being rejected.
Uh-oh. He’d thought she’d be embarrassed and he’d have to assure her she shouldn’t be. Figures Mari would do exactly the opposite of what he expected.
“Listen,” he said as he raised his hands in placation. “I want you bad. But not like this.”
“Like what, human?” she purred. “Against the wall? On the floor?” She waved a hand at the table. “Or the table? What exactly is the problem? Afraid you can’t get it up?”
Taking a chance, his own anger rising to the fore even as he struggled to fight his desire to fuck the hell out of her, he crossed to her and moved his face within inches of hers. Up close, her pupils were so enlarged they darkened her gaze. Heat rose from her body, curling around his in a seductive invitation.
“Not like some kind of rutting animals overtaken by the heat of battle. When we have sex, it will be human sex.”
He saw her throat work as she swallowed heavily, then her
eyes narrowed. “Human sex? Ah, but I’m not human.”
He growled. “I am.”
Yanking away from her, he pivoted then tossed over his shoulder, “Whenever you get control of yourself, I’ll be in the next room. Our mission isn’t finished and now the bastard has a hostage.”
He strode from the room even as his dick wanted him to turn around, go back to her and finish what they’d started. Funny—he wanted the same thing.
Mari looked after him, torn between wanting to chase him to finish what they’d started or rip out his bleeding heart for rejecting her. In a tiny place inside her, she was mortified by her behavior. The heat of the battle had done many things to her before but had never caused her to jump on a human as if he were food.
She shook off her physical reactions. Jackson was right. They still had a mission and, worse, even if he was wrong about the identity of the hostage, Beliel had what he needed in order to find and use the skull. Mari wasn’t sure how soul transference worked—she hadn’t really known it worked at all until seeing the results herself.
What had happened to Catherine’s soul? Had it been left behind for the soul stealer or sent somewhere else?
“The soul once known as Catherine is safe.”
Mari jumped and turned to face the speaker who possessed a rich, melodious voice that sounded as if he could shatter cement if he chose to. And as she met his eyes, something in them made her close hers. Shit. He’d seen what she and Jackson had been up to. She had a feeling her cheeks were flaming red.
“It is a natural expression between two people, Marisol Asheni. You should not be ashamed.”
She opened her eyes. “Between two people?” she scoffed. “I’m not a human, as you well know. There was nothing natural about what happened.”
A gentle smile tugged on his lips. “Only if you believe that to be true.”
She paced. When a chair blocked her path, she kicked it, sending it flying across the floor. After she made a few passes, she stopped in front of Michael. “Archangel, I know you did not come here to discuss my sex life.”
She kept her gaze focused on him, even though she didn’t really want to see the disappointment in his bright-blue eyes. Except she didn’t see acknowledgment of her failure to protect the mortals, to do her duty, reflected in his gaze.
“You haven’t failed until you give up.” Michael’s head tilted. “Have you given up?”
She anticipated condemnation and got empathy. Her lips firmed and she shook her head. “No, I haven’t given up.”
“Good.” His gaze held satisfaction. “However, Beliel has accomplished his mission. He has a human who can use the skull.”
Mari bobbed her head once in agreement, then froze as her thoughts switched from blame to actually hearing what Michael had said. “What? I don’t understand. The mortal, Catherine, was the key. Her soul has departed and the spirit named Kat has taken her place. Kat did not have any extraspecial abilities.”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “That you are aware of.”
Mari frowned. “Or that Lexi is, or she would have said something.” She lifted her chin. “Archangel Michael, there’re things I need to know. Will you tell me or am I going to have to waste time looking?”
The Archangel, clad in his ever-present white suit—such a cliché—crossed over to the only remaining seat in the room that hadn’t been made into kindling and sat. He smiled.
“A cliché, yes, but totally effective, wouldn’t you say?”
He gestured and two matching chairs appeared in front of him. She couldn’t stop the smile from her lips as she walked over to sit in the one closest to the window. What else could you do with a man who didn’t rise to the bait?
“Jackson McKay,” Michael called. “Your presence is requested.”
The Archangel barely lifted his voice above a normal level, yet she still heard Jackson acknowledge the call and the sound of his boots across the tile, the clump and crunch noises let her know how far away he was. Apparently, he hadn’t gone too far.
“Please sit down,” Michael said as Jackson entered the room.
He shot a raised eyebrow at Mari, then took the seat next to her. The glance they shared was quick but enough she was able to see that while anger still lay below the surface, he was back to his lighthearted self. She was surprised to note how pleased she was with that. And smug to see the darkness of passion still behind his smiling gaze.
“Beliel has a human capable of finding and using the skull, but he has erred in thinking he has the right one.”
Silence, then Jackson drawled, “Well now, that is as clear as mud. Glad we got that straightened out.”
“Jackson,” Mari murmured.
Michael’s serene expression remained, even as the light of amusement danced in his clear eyes. He looked at Mari and the amusement faded. “As you have suspected, the woman known as Catherine was dying. The Slayer swapped out Catherine’s soul for Katherine’s and placed his ex-lover into Catherine’s body. The body of her sister.”
Mari sat back and heard Jackson mumble something like holy shit under his breath. That was why the woman, Catherine, had seemed so familiar in appearance. Because of her sibling relationship to Kat.
“Did Kat know she had a sister?”
Michael shook his head. “She did not.”
Mari frowned. “Is Catherine’s mother Kat’s mother?
“No. They do not share a mother in common. Their blood match comes from their father. Neither Catherine nor Kat knew each had a sister. After Kat was born, Lillian DeMartinez, who had been given both girls, did not want to raise two children, especially when one was not hers. So, when the second child was sent to her, Lillian passed Kat along to a couple of people who thought they wanted a child. The people who took her were not ready to be parents and sent Kat to live within the system and she found herself in an orphanage, a succession of foster homes until she finally found a family to care for her.”
A snort from Jackson interrupted Michael. “Insensitive bastard.”
While she agreed with Jackson’s assessment of Raphael, distaste curled Mari’s lips for the mortal female’s behavior. Humans treated their children like they were pets. Sometimes better than pets. Passing them from one to the other as if they had no more worth than paper. In fact, she suspected the humans put more value on the green stuff they called money than on their children.
“Kat and Lexi found each other and became friends—”
“Then she found the Slayer,” Mari interrupted. “And he killed her and now he’s given her a second chance at life?”
Michael nodded.
Mari thought for a moment. Something occurred to her now that hadn’t when she’d first learned Raphael had created two half-mortal children. “It is forbidden for the seven to have children. Why did Raphael go against law?”
“You would have to ask him.”
“I’d be delighted to. Where is he?”
Michael frowned. “We do not know.”
“You don’t know? I thought you knew everything.”
The brilliant blue of his eyes darkened. “No, not everything,” he said so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
The fact that Raphael had chosen to have half-mortal children was shocking; the archangels didn’t tend to associate with the mortals, except as their hierarchy demanded. The lines tended to blur, especially among the levels within the Spheres, but there was still structure.
In the First Sphere were the Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones. These angels were closest to God. Mikos, before he fell, was a Seraphim charged with protecting God’s throne and singing praises. A Seraphim’s passion for the Lord made it quite the coup when Lucifer turned Mikos, and quite a defeat when Mikos left.
Angels in the Second Sphere, the Dominions, Virtues and Powers, were the governors or caretakers. They acted as leaders over other angels and presided over human nations. The Powers were warriors for God and none had ever fallen or turned from service.
The Third Sphere, the messengers and soldiers, the Principalities, Archangels and Angels were closest to mankind. They came to humans in dreams and acted as guardian angels. The majority of the two hundred who fell came from the Third Sphere.
For herself, she’d been a Throne, a dealer in God’s justice. She’d become disillusioned when the Lord continued to let the humans treat Him with disrespect and scorn His gifts. It had been easy for Lucifer to sway her with the promise of revenge and fighting. And when Mikos fell, she’d gone with him. Angels did not have true kin, yet if she had to call any true, Mikos was hers. Also, to some extent despite her denials, were Ash and Raphael.
As far as why Raphael had disobeyed, she just didn’t get it. What would he have had to gain from bringing two half-angel children into the human’s world? One of Raphael’s gifts was precognizance so it seemed like he would have realized what would happen should he…
Her gaze flew to Michael’s. She was sure her stare was wide-eyed and questioning.
“Yes, Marisol.”
“Holy shit,” she breathed, only half noting she’d subconsciously mimicked Jackson.
“You seem stunned.” A note of impatience edged Jackson’s tone as he said, “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal? So he had a kid. Far as I know, it wouldn’t be the first time one of you angels played hanky-panky with human women and had children. I seem to remember a story about beings called Nephilim.”
“Jackson, Raphael is an archangel, not Archangel with a capital A. One of the seven but not like Michael. And the seven do not mate with humans. It is forbidden.”
Jackson frowned. “What the hell is the difference?”
“Not all of the seven are host leaders. That is Michael, Gabriel, Uriel and Jophiel.”
Jackson looked at Michael. “Sorry, partner. Guess you got the short end of the stick.”
The urge to walk up behind Jackson and smack him on the back of his head had Mari on the edge of her seat. Did the human not find anything serious? She might, at times, smart-mouth the Archangel but even she knew there was a line and it hadn’t mattered that she, technically, no longer fell under Michael’s sway. He was not an archangel to trifle with.
The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2 Page 18