Key of Solomon: Relic Defender, Book 1 (10 page)

Another matter entirely.

Did the fact he might be whacked out stop her? As a dancer, she dealt with crazy on a regular basis. With barely a foot separating her from him, she poked at Sir Mikos-whatever’s chest. Maybe not the smartest move she’d ever made, but she could feel her temper burning hotter. She wanted out. Despite the size of the room, bigger than her apartment times two, the walls seemed to close in on her.

She took a deep breath, pushing down the anxiety curling in her gut. “Listen, pretty boy,” she said, even though pretty was not a word she’d use to describe him. It felt insulting. Right now insulting worked for her. Took her focus off the shrinking room.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m done. I’m going home.” Lexi paused and looked around. “Once I figure out where the hell you’ve put the door.”

When she returned her gaze to him, the room faded away. Her breath caught on an exhale. The longer she held his eyes, the more she saw things behind the unfathomable depths.

Dark and powerful things.

Amorphous things. Emotions. Neither good nor evil, but shades of both. And Lexi sensed something else. The same thing she saw in the lines of his face.

Deep, soul-drowning loss.

Finally Mikos looked away, and she heaved a mental sigh of relief. When he glanced down at the finger still pressed against his chest, she yanked the wayward appendage back.

He swept his fingers through his hair. “Lexi, you are in danger. They will come for you.”

“Who’s coming for me?” An absurd urge to giggle bubbled in her chest. “And I’ve already died once. What’s worse than that?”

He scowled, and his pupils danced with sparks of light. “Lexi.” His tongue and lips caressed each individual letter. She resisted the tickle of unseen fingers rippling along her spine. “There are worse things than being dead.”

She couldn’t disagree. Every day she breathed in and out and on too many days to count, living was like being dead.

“Every day’s an adventure is my motto,” Lexi tossed at him. “Listen, this has been fun, but I’ve got to get back to the real world. You gonna point me to the door?”

For a moment, Mikos studied her, his attention unwavering. A part of Lexi wanted to duck and hide under that perceptive stare. Or shuffle her feet. Another part wanted to walk up to him and run her fingers through his midnight hair to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Screw that thought. How’d it get into her head in the first place?
Out, out damn spot.

Lexi knuckled both hands into fists on her hips when Mikos didn’t immediately, or sooner, respond. “Well?”

“It seems I have no choice.”

“Duh.”

Mikos nodded and stepped back. Just behind him, a door shimmered into view. A door that no way in hell had been there earlier.

Lexi glanced back and forth between the door and Mikos until she felt as if she watched a tennis match. The crazy, albeit unthreatening, man simply leaned against the back of the couch. The fabric of his turtleneck pulled against his broad shoulders. A new glint in his dark eyes contained humor, not anger or annoyance. That glint and the slight lift of the corners of his mouth spoke volumes to Lexi.

Yum, take me now
.

Oh, for God’s sake
. Lexi gave a mental groan. She had no business thinking of Mikos like that. The man was certifiably insane. Had to be. She couldn’t explain her supposed death and resurrection. Or the talking rock. She didn’t even try. Not without some serious alcohol.

“We are not finished, Lexi. I will come to you again.”

The words had a stiff, grating sound as if they’d been forced from his mouth. As if letting her go went against his intentions. And, as if seeing her again was equally as bad.

She scowled. “Don’t bother. I don’t care, and I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling.”

And she truly didn’t care. Sure, maybe she should find out what he meant, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel concern. It sounded as if he expected her to have faith. Faith was something she no longer possessed. Faith in goodness, faith in others and certainly not faith in a supposedly all-powerful God who let so many evil things happen to innocents. She’d been naïve and innocent once.

Innocent. As that thought crossed her mind, it was followed by another.
Jesus, Devyn
. What the hell was the matter with her? She’d forgotten all about Devyn.

The last thing she clearly remembered about Devyn was the man who held her. The harder she tried to recall more, the faster her memories fragmented.

God, she’d never be able to forgive herself if that happened. Or if anything had happened. A part of her recognized the irrational thought filling her mind, but she didn’t care. If Devyn hadn’t come out to find out about an unkept promise, the young girl would have stayed inside, safe behind four walls. Instead, she was either with those men, her innocence shattered or worse, lying dead.

And it would be Lexi’s fault.

“Is something the matter?”

Lexi raised her eyes to find Mikos studying her. She shook her head and impatiently pulled her rambling thoughts together.

“Nothing.”

“Maybe I can help.”

Lexi snorted. “I doubt it.” She strode across the room.

“Remember what I said, Alexandria,” he said, his tone serene. Implacable. “We are not finished.”

“Sure, we are,” Lexi challenged over her shoulder and stepped through the now visible and open doorway. “Go find yourself another stupid girl. I’ve got better things to do.” Like talk to her professor about the golden box and find out what happened to Devyn. Oh, and finish her dissertation.

Piece of cake.

Chapter Seven

“Even when you think you have your life all mapped out, things happen that shape your destiny in ways you might never have imagined.”

Deepak Chopra

Mikos watched her go. His mouth pulled into a grimace.
Hell and damn
. He hadn’t expected the mortal to refuse. On the contrary. He had expected her to embrace her destiny with no questions or concerns. Was it because she was a female? With the notable exception of one, most past defenders were male. Men who understood honor and responsibility.

“The woman clearly does not understand duty,” he muttered. “Why can she not be like the others?”

“That is because she is different.”

Mikos recognized the calm, even-handed tone that always sounded as if the speaker had no emotions. Those who knew him however, knew he was all about emotions. Turning around, Mikos met the pure, brilliant blue of Archangel Michael’s eyes. Dressed all in white, a white so pure it singed the eyes, the Prince of Light and leader of the Angelic Host smiled, a warm, easy smile.

“Mikos.”

“Find another,” Mikos bit off the words, disregarding the courtesy of a greeting. If the archangel wanted politeness, he should have chosen someone else.

A sense of urgency, of importance, left Mikos quivering with foreign emotions. Uneasiness and the desire to run, to flee from the demands of the task. He was not a coward—he’d fought and won in tougher situations. So why did his instincts scream danger?

“It is my wish.”

“If I refuse?”

“You would do so? Even knowing the suffering to come?” A pause. Heavy silence weighed on Mikos’s shoulders. “Even knowing your chance at redemption would disappear?” Michael finished.

“A threat?” Mikos scowled. Back muscles throbbed as his wings ached to explode from their confines. To flee from the demands of the task Michael set before him. A task that already threatened to upset his carefully cultivated plans.

“Not a threat. A choice.”

Damnation. Another choice that wasn’t a choice. Mikos’s mind’s eye flashed with the memory of the woman who had just left. Long black hair fell in soft waves to the middle of her back. Sooty lashes framed cinnamon-shaded eyes touched with the shadows of loneliness and betrayal. High cheekbones dominated a face much too strong for delicacy, yet arresting in its strength. The real danger to his soul etched in every sensuous line of her supple body.

A test? Another battle to fight with his baser instincts?

Or another chance to fail?

Maybe his last.

“There is no one else,” Michael said, his voice stark yet gentle.

Unyielding.

Unsurprising.

Mikos growled, his jaw clenching. By the Light, he had no other choice. Not if he wanted to save his soul. He nodded, not yet trusting his voice. Or words.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Archangel.” Mikos turned away. So much for silence.

“Mikos ne’Tyomni.” The hard, humorless edge of Michael’s tone and the use of Mikos’s full name yanked him around.

“You must not fail in this task. Not only does your fate rest in your success, but also the fate of mortals. She must take up the mantle of a defender. It is past time for her to do so.”

With the final admonition, Michael disappeared in an intense burst of silvery radiance that left dancing motes of light sparking behind Mikos’s vision.

He rubbed the top of his hand under his jaw.
Save me from cryptic archangels
. Smothering a growl, he walked over to the couch. When he sat, he convinced himself he could feel the flush of heat from Lexi’s body lingering in the cushions. He closed his eyes and let himself drift. Her vanilla and cinnamon scent warmed him, left him with sensations he didn’t want. Or need. They reminded him too much of what he’d been before he changed.

His mind burned with the memory of the women. His first contacts with the darker emotions. Lust. Greed. Pride.

Lust had come first. The lush figures of the mortal women, their long hair cascading over naked skin glowing with a vitality that drew him like a bee to honey. The sweetly intoxicating musk of warm bodies and the salty taste of silken female flesh. Tender fingers that danced over heated flesh. Hunger swelled, the memories of soul-touching ecstasy flooding his body.

Mikos sucked in air and jerked upright, his heart wedged in his throat.
Beatus Deus
, it had been a long time since he’d let himself recall his past. Why now? Because of the woman? Despite the exotic tilt of her eyes and full lips, he’d seen lovelier. And with sweeter dispositions. Yet, since he’d seen her dance, she’d touched the part of him he’d locked down when he left Hell. When he’d realized the soul-stealing error he’d made so many thousands of years ago.

Mikos ran fingers through his hair. Long ago, unexplainable lust for mortal women had weakened him, leaving him open to the lure of a charismatic being who believed he was better than the mortals he protected. Who refused to be subservient to men made of frail material. Who felt betrayed by God’s love for the humans.

Two hundred souls agreed with Lucifer, and one of them was Mikos. He didn’t blame Lucifer. After all, Mikos chose the pleasures of the flesh over duty. He’d not make that mistake again.

The air shifted. “So, boss, what now?” Agrigorockie, the shapeshifter Mikos had christened as Rocky blinked into view. “The hot dame didn’t stay long. You scare her away?”

Mikos frowned and rose to his feet. Rocky hovered about five inches from his face. A tribute to his distraction in that he’d not sensed the imp’s arrival.

“Stay with her,” Mikos said ignoring Rocky’s question. “Notify me immediately if there is trouble.”

Rocky tilted his head. “You expecting any?” The way the shapeshifter’s eyes glowed with liquid silver glee, he welcomed the potential.

“I always expect trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” With a popping sound, Rocky teleported to wherever the woman abided.

Mikos sighed. He couldn’t fail. The defender had to accept her duty. He looked skyward, staring at the ceiling as if he could peer beyond the physical surface to the heavens beyond. His soul cried out. Deep, wrenching loss translating into agony that took his insides and twisted them into knots of loneliness. After thousands of years, he was so close. Soon he’d be home.

The reluctant mortal would assume her destiny.

After a long and freaking expensive taxi ride from Mikos’s place, Lexi stood in front of Blush. She had to find out about Devyn. Her lips twisted. How could she have gone from off-handedly offering a belly dance lesson to giving a shit about a starry-eyed wannabe?

Still, she should have been able to protect an innocent. Her inner critic snickered, reminding Lexi she hadn’t even been able to protect herself.

Lexi glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. Had she really been at Mikos’s for thirteen hours? The loss of time left her with a sour stomach. Hunger or nerves?

She sighed and eyed the entrance.
Open the door and walk in
, she chided. It was just the right time for Big Joe to be there. He knew everything about everything and everyone. For a numbers cruncher, he had his fingers on the pulse of Chicago.

Yet, she still didn’t want to go in there. She couldn’t explain why. The hassle with the drunks, the interactions with Howard and that Jackson guy, and, of course, what happened after all that, added up to a justifiable, if unexplainable, concern.

For Pete’s sake. Since when did she back down from anything?

Straightening her shoulders, Lexi shoved the rusty door and stepped inside. After the bright sunlight outside, the dim lighting in
Blush
made her pause to let her eyes adjust. Her gaze followed the light.

Above the rich red mahogany of the bar with its gleaming brass accents, an ornate chandelier glowed softly. Bare-breasted, gold-painted figures postured above the large mirror behind the bar. She felt like cringing each time she saw the tacky décor.

Where was everyone? Or really, anyone? Odd that no one stood behind the bar. There was usually at least one bartender on duty no matter the hour. And even though the dancers didn’t arrive until later, a few patrons started their drinking early. Not today. An eerie quiet hung in the club like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

She turned around to face the stage. “Gary? Howard?” At her voice, something moved. A flicker in the shadows. “Hey, who’s there?”

No response. Backlit from the stage lights, the shadow was only a human form. No discernable features or shape to identify male or female. Lexi tensed. Just as the shadow neared, she recognized the silent figure.