Reliquary (Reliquary Series Book 1) (15 page)

I decided not to remind him that it didn’t seem like it was
his
relic.

Asa sighed and set his spoon in his empty soup bowl. “Okay. When do we leave?”

“You leave for San Francisco tonight. You’ll get your papers and tickets in the afternoon. You will depart for Bangkok on Friday at noon.”

“I need to see Ben before we go anywhere,” I said, my voice high and clear.

Frank pushed a button on his phone, which was sitting on the table next to his empty glass. “I’ve simply been waiting for you to ask. I expect you both have been so worried about him. I’m sorry this little game is necessary.”

Asa stared at Frank. “All for this one relic.”

Frank gave Asa a friendly, relaxed smile. “I’m very interested in the magic of this particular natural. It’s important to me.”

“Mattie?”

The sound of Ben’s voice brought me out of the booth so fast that my half-full plate went sliding to the floor, shattering on the marble. But I barely noticed.

Ben stood near the kitchens, beside an open door leading to a small room, his fair hair tousled, his brown eyes riveted on me and shining with emotion. “Oh my God,” he whispered.

With a sob, I ran to him, and he caught me in his arms and lifted me up, tilting his head back to kiss me. “I can’t believe you’re here.” His voice broke over the words, but I couldn’t speak at all. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him for all I was worth. So many days of worrying, so many nights of crying myself to sleep, and here he was, looking as perfect and healthy as the last time I’d seen him. He met my passion with gusto, his arm wrapped around my waist, one of his hands in my hair. The entire room disappeared, and it was just me and Ben, a world unto ourselves.

By the time he put me down, both of us were shaking. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again,” he said, laughing as he swiped a tear off his face.

I squeezed his hands, hungrily looking him over. “We have a lot to talk about,” I told him. I’d gone over this speech in my head a thousand times as Asa had driven in silence down the highway, knowing that if I ever did see Ben again, I might be too relieved to remember it otherwise. “I found out some things about you when you were gone, some things you did—”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry.” Ben’s eyes clamped shut, and his face radiated pain. “I made so many mistakes. I’ve spent every minute of the past week and a half praying I would have the chance to make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” I said in a strained voice, then laid my head on his shoulder and breathed him in.

“I never wanted you to get wrapped up in this, Mattie.”

“You never should have kept it from me. Especially because it turns out that I’m a part of this world, too.”

“What?”

I looked up at him. “Yeah. I only found out by accident when I ran into Asa at . . .”

I had turned to my partner in crime—but he was gone. So was Frank. Sometime during my reunion with Ben, they had cleared out and I hadn’t even noticed. “He
is
a good skulker,” I muttered.

“He can’t even stand to be in the same room with me. I’m shocked he even came. I told them he wouldn’t,” Ben said, frowning at the empty booth. “But I guess they’re offering him a lot of money now that he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s why he came, Ben.” I was still staring at the place Asa had been sitting a moment ago.

“How did you even find him?”

I explained how it had happened, and Ben listened with wide eyes. “And now you’re going to Bangkok as Asa’s reliquary?” His brows lowered. “Is he . . . treating you all right?”

“Asa’s a little prickly, but I can handle him.”

“‘A little prickly’?” He let out a strangled laugh. “Okay.”

I ran my hands down Ben’s sleeves. “Can we talk about you? When I saw your pacemaker in the mailbox—”

Ben swallowed hard. “I’m okay. One of the guys had a healing touch. It was temporary, but it saved me.” He sighed and stepped back.

I held his hands tight. “But?”

“Apparently, Frank has a piece of magic that could make it permanent. It’s in one of his relics. He said he would give it to me.” He wasn’t meeting my eyes.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “What’s the catch?”

“It all depends on Asa,” he said bitterly. “Basically, my brother, who kind of hates me, gets to decide my fate.”

A tiny streak of frustration zipped through me. “He agreed to do the job, didn’t he? We leave tonight!”

“Asa will get paid, Mattie. And Frank says he’ll let me go once you guys are back.” He pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. “So you’d better make sure you stay safe. It’s just that . . . screw it. Never mind.”

I frowned, even as I held him close, relishing the planes of his muscular body, his familiar warmth after so much strangeness. “Haven’t you kept enough secrets from me?”

“I’m sorry. You’re so right,” he murmured in my ear. “I just didn’t want to put pressure on anyone. I don’t want more bad blood between me and Asa, and I can’t ask him for this myself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Frank promised me . . .” He took my face in his hands and made sure I was looking at him. “He told me that he would give me the relic that would heal my heart permanently, but only if Asa agreed to join Frank’s team.”

“His . . . team?”

“Yeah. Frank’s magic sensor passed away a few weeks ago, and he needs a new one. Apparently Asa is the best.” Ben chuckled. “Who knew? I thought he’d be drunk in a ditch somewhere, and it turns out he’s built this reputation and now all these people want to hire him.” He tilted his head as my brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just . . . Asa’s not really a team player.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. But I need this, Mattie. I can already feel the healing magic fading away, and I need to feel whole.” He grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve felt that way since I was first diagnosed with this stupid heart condition. I think it’s why I got so wrapped up in the magic—it felt so good that I forgot how broken I was.”

“But you were never broken. You were always perfect.” I ran my finger down his straight nose.

He gave me a sad smile. “You know I wasn’t. But I want to be, Mattie. For you. For the family we’re going to have together. I want to live a long life and take care of you and our kids.”

“I want that, too,” I said softly. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Will you help me, then? If you got Asa to come here, you could convince him to take this job. Mr. Brindle takes good care of his staff.”

“Asa
chose
to come here, Ben. I couldn’t have convinced him of anything if he hadn’t wanted to do it.”

Ben stroked his thumbs down my cheeks. “You’re underestimating yourself. Will you try to convince him? For me?”

I stared up at the man I loved, pushing down the uneasy feeling that had risen inside me. “Sure,” I whispered. “I’ll try. For you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

We rode to the airport in one of Frank Brindle’s limos and flew to San Francisco on his private jet. Asa was silent throughout, but he also seemed less twitchy. Maybe now that he knew for sure what he needed to do, he was able to relax. Or maybe all that nervous energy had shifted to me. I could barely stay in my seat.

We’d found Ben. But now he was essentially a hostage, his life hanging in the balance, dependent on whether Asa and I could steal a valuable relic right from under the nose of the most powerful and dangerous man in Thailand. And on top of that, I was supposed to be convincing Asa to work for Frank so that Ben could have the healing magic he needed.

My fingertip slid over the slight indentation on my ring finger, now bare. I’d given my engagement ring to Ben for safekeeping. He swore when I returned that he’d get down on one knee and propose all over again. It had hurt to leave him, but it had only made me more determined to get him back, whole and healthy.

I rubbed the padded leather armrest of my cushy seat as we began to descend into the Bay Area. “I feel like a celebrity. Frank knows how to treat his employees, doesn’t he?”

Asa, who’d been staring out his window at the glowing lights at the edge of the ocean, leaned his head back against his seat. “That’s like saying a cat pampers the mice it catches.”

“I don’t think he’s planning to eat us.”

Asa pulled his gaze from the night sky and leveled it at me. “More like he’s playing before he bites our heads off.”

“Why would he do that? We can do stuff for him.”

“Sure,” he said faintly. “We’re useful. Just like Wendell was.”

“His magic sniffer who passed away? He seemed really sad about that.”

Asa rubbed his hands over his face. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes. “No doubt. Notice he didn’t mention how poor old Wendell died.”

“You think he had him killed?”

Very slowly, Asa raised two fingers to his temple, cocked his thumb, and pretended to blow his brains out. “Bet you everything I own.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

Asa sighed, returning his attention to the view out the window. I eyed the taut lines of his shoulders and the sharp edge of his jaw, and then decided not to question him further. He obviously wasn’t eager to work for Frank, and I had a feeling if I talked up the job too much, Asa would be on to me in a second.

We arrived at the airport to find another car waiting, which took us to the Fairmont Hotel in a neighborhood called Nob Hill. I spent the ride reeling from the irony—I hadn’t done much traveling in my life, and already today I’d checked into two fancy hotels in two different states, flown on a private jet, and ridden in a few limos . . . but instead of sharing this experience with the love of my life, here I was with his surly brother. Asa had said he trusted me, but with the way he was acting now, barely looking at me, barely talking to me, I was starting to think he should have added “relatively speaking” to his declaration.

We had rooms on the same floor. Asa peeled off quickly, suggesting only that we meet for dinner late the next evening to talk over a plan for when we arrived in Bangkok. I was left standing in the hall with the bellboy, feeling strangely squirmy. It wasn’t that I was so eager to hang out with Asa, but it felt like we had things to talk about. Or, one thing at least. Ben.

Knowing my love was safe and sound for the moment, I woke up the next morning determined to make the most of my time in San Francisco. After calling my mother and assuring her I was still having a restful time—and then frantically dissuading her from joining me at my little lakeside spa for the weekend—I set out to explore the city. I stuffed my face with a hot fudge sundae in Ghirardelli Square, amused myself for a few minutes watching the sea lions sunning themselves on the little rafts at Pier 39, toured a bakery and ate a whole sourdough pepperoni pizza, then hiked up and down the ridiculous hills of the city. I didn’t want to stop moving, because then I would have to think. But just after the sun sank into the ocean, as if it were beckoning me from across the sea, luring me toward Bangkok, I started to make my way back to the hotel. It was a longer walk than I’d thought, though, and now I was going to be late. I had no idea how Asa had spent his day, but I hoped he was in a decent mood, because I was starting to get jittery as heck.

That might be why I realized I was being followed. I was nearing the edge of Chinatown when a little chill went right down my spine, and I looked over my shoulder to see a guy duck quickly into a shop. Telling myself it was nothing, I continued on, but my heart wouldn’t slow down. I was maybe six blocks from the hotel, but suddenly I couldn’t get there fast enough. I began to jog, glancing over my shoulder every few steps, slowing a little when I didn’t see anyone behind me. It was nearly nine, and I was no longer in a touristy part of town, so it wasn’t as if the sidewalks were packed. It would be tough to tail me without being spotted. I shook my head and laughed, then started to walk. “You’re acting like Asa,” I muttered.

I turned the corner and collided with someone coming the opposite direction. My breath was knocked out of me, and I stumbled back and had the impression of a man leaning forward to catch me.

As soon as his hands touched mine, my world exploded in a fiery burst of agony. Like my bones were its superhighway, the pain shot up my arms, across my shoulders, down my spine, and across my ribs. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t draw any air into my lungs.

And then it stopped suddenly, and I found myself crumpled against a brick wall in a little courtyard, its gate hanging open. In front of me was a playground, and to my left was a long narrow pathway, maybe to another side street. A man loomed over me, tall and thickly muscled, dressed all in black, with dark eyes and ebony hair. As he leaned into the light from a streetlamp, I recognized him as one of Zhong Lei’s crew who had chased us through Chicago. He was also, obviously, a Strikon. He flexed his fingers. “Make a sound, and I’ll do that again,” he said quietly.

“What do you want?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

“Information,” he said with a tilt of his head. “About the job you and Ward are doing for Brindle.”

I pressed my back against the wall as he took a step toward me. “No idea what you’re talking about. I just spent the day at Fisherman’s Wharf.”

The Strikon smiled. “Mr. Zhong is a collector, you see, just like Mr. Brindle. He is interested in relics of particular value. And we can think of only one reason for Mr. Brindle to hire Mr. Ward and send him here. He is seeking something.”

I glanced toward the street, wishing I had the strength to run. “Seriously. No clue.”

My attacker ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Do you really want me to touch you again?”

“No,” I said, drawing my knees to my chest.

“Then tell me what you came here to find.”

“A-a relic,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “Please do not insult me.”

“But that’s what it is! No—” My head slammed against brick as the Strikon stroked my cheek and sent a bolt of searing pain down my throat and into my gut.

“You really should be a nice girl and answer my questions honestly.” He stepped back and leisurely pulled a knife from beneath his shirt. “Because I can make this hurt so much it will carve new trails in your brain, and your thoughts will be trapped in those little ruts forever, like rats in a maze. You’ll never be the same.” He smiled, obviously enjoying my fear as I whimpered and flinched away from him.

“It would be such a shame, wouldn’t it?” he continued. “Because I know what you are. Zhi told Mr. Zhong
everything
. How would Mr. Ward feel if I broke his reliquary?”

“Mr. Ward would be pissed as hell.” The voice came from the darkness to my left—a split second before Asa stepped out of it. In his hand was that sticklike black handle thing he carried with him. He did indeed look pissed as hell. And I was
really
glad to see him.

“Mr. Ward,” said the Strikon, sounding amused as he twirled the knife in his fingers. “I was hoping you’d received my invitation.”

Asa winced as something invisible passed between them, and I remembered what Asa had said about Reza—
I could feel your ooze the moment I hit the parking garage.
This guy probably knew Asa would sense him here.

He looked like he’d been counting on it, actually. “Come with me quietly, or there’ll be more of that,” he said to Asa, whose skin was draining of color.

Asa flicked his wrist, and the handle extended into a baton about two feet long. “Sorry. I’ve got dinner plans.” He held his other hand out to me, but the Strikon stepped between us, the knife hanging from his fist—only a few feet from my face. With no warning, he slashed it forward, right at my cheek, and I didn’t even have time to move.

But Asa did. He thrust his baton out and deflected the slash, stopping the blade inches from my skin. The Strikon took advantage of Asa’s momentum and turned, grabbing Asa’s outstretched arm and wrenching him forward. Asa hit the wall next to me with a crunch and a burst of breath, but then he ducked as the Strikon tried to stab him in the shoulder. I scrambled away as the blade hit brick, and Asa spun sharply and slammed his baton into the back of the Strikon’s legs. The man staggered, but as Asa tried to sweep his feet out from under him, the Strikon recovered and delivered a hard backward kick to Asa’s ribs. Blood trickled from the corner of Asa’s mouth, and his face was twisted into a tight grimace as he used the baton to block stab after stab. They moved so fast that I couldn’t tell who was winning, but Asa had begun to backtrack under the ferocity of the Strikon’s attack, and maybe under the force of whatever painful magical vibes the guy was giving off.

I’d groped my way up the wall and gotten to my feet, but I was afraid to scream for help, because I didn’t want to distract Asa for even a second. I didn’t know how to help him. But then the Strikon’s knife clattered to the ground, and I nearly let out a cheer. Asa bared his teeth as he sliced that baton through the air, but the Strikon blocked his arm with a bone-jarring strike and drove his fist into Asa’s stomach. Asa bent double, and the Strikon kicked the baton from his hand and lunged at him. Asa landed on his back with the Strikon on top of him, the man’s hands closing around Asa’s throat.

Asa’s eyes went wide as their skin touched, and he let out the most horrible sound. The Strikon straddled his chest. Asa’s arms were free, but they were spread wide, twitching and flopping like they’d been disconnected from the rest of him. The Strikon’s face split into an ecstatic smile as Asa arched back, obviously in blinding pain. He was helpless, but I wasn’t. I ran forward and scooped Asa’s baton from the asphalt, then held it like a bat and smacked it across the Strikon’s back.

The Strikon cursed and twisted, lunging for me. I yelped and stumbled backward, swiping the baton through the air as the enraged agent powered himself to his feet. “Come here, little girl,” he said between heavy breaths. “I was gentle before, but now—”

Asa plowed into his legs, and I dodged out of the way as they hit the ground again. This time, Asa was on the guy’s back. Looking unsteady, Asa slammed his fist into the side of the Strikon’s head. Asa’s breath was harsh and his face was flushed. The Strikon shoved his hips up and rolled with Asa, slamming his elbow into Asa’s solar plexus. I raised the baton to try to help, and the Strikon must have seen the movement in his periphery, because he turned to look.

It was the moment Asa needed. He threw himself on top of the Strikon again and punched the guy in the face. Asa’s chin was smeared with blood, and his eyes were deep and dark as he jabbed his fist downward again and again. Veins stood out at his temples as he pinned the guy’s shoulders to the ground and knocked the Strikon’s scrabbling hands off his thighs. “Do you wanna see what’s in my pocket?” Asa said, his voice broken by his wheezing breath. “Just so happens it’s a present for you.”

He punched the guy again and cursed. His fingers trembled as he unbuttoned one of his thigh pockets and pulled out the alien Pez dispenser. “Mattie,” he snapped without looking at me. He extended his other hand. “Baton.”

I rushed forward and slid it into his palm. Instead of hitting the guy with it, though, he flipped it upward and jammed the handle into the guy’s mouth, prying his teeth open. As the Strikon continued to struggle, trying to buck Asa off, Asa lowered the dispenser to the guy’s mouth and clicked the back of the alien’s head several times.

The yellowish tablets fell between the guy’s lips one after the other, at least six of them disappearing into the blackness of his mouth. He started to gag and thrash as Asa tossed the baton away. He pinched the guy’s nostrils closed and clamped his hand under the guy’s chin, holding his jaw shut. Asa’s teeth gritted and his body shook, like it was taking all his strength to hold on.

Then he leaned down and said, very quietly, “Stop struggling.”

The Strikon blinked up at him and went still.

Asa threw me a sidelong glance before whispering something in the Strikon’s ear. After a few seconds, Asa straightened up and looked at me again. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said, his voice slurring—and then he slowly fell to the side. He didn’t even put his hands out to catch himself as he slid off the Strikon’s body.

I rushed forward and caught his head just before it hit the pavement, my heart in my throat. “Asa?”

He groaned. I cradled his head, my hands slipping into his dark hair. It was drenched with sweat, and so was the rest of him. His muscles were twitching. I leaned down to get a good look at his face, but a shadow passed over us and I looked up to see the Strikon standing right next to me. I opened my mouth to scream, but the Strikon bowed. “My deepest apologies for hurting you,” he said woodenly.

He turned and walked away, marching through the gate that led out to the street.

“Wow,” I murmured as I turned my attention back to Asa, whose head was in my lap.

“My baton.”

I leaned over and grabbed it. Asa took it from me and pushed it straight down, making the stick part disappear into the handle again. Shakily, he stuck it in his belt. “Hotel,” he whispered. “Can you give me a hand?”