Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2) (9 page)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Maurice

“Couldn’t find anything at Bryant’s place,” Shane, a current associate of Maurice’s told him as he plopped himself down in a chair across from his desk.

Maurice raised his eyebrows. He preferred his employees to show a little more respect for the antique furniture.

Shane sat up straighter due to his boss’s glaring expression. That was better. Now they could have a civilized conversation.

“I assume you checked every possible place he could’ve hidden the medallion.”

“Yes, Maur—sir,” Shane corrected himself when he saw the sour look on his boss’ face.

Maurice straightened and smoothed his tie. “And Bryant, where is he?”

“He’s no longer working for you. He sends his condolences.”

Maurice closed his eyes and took a deep breath with his hand on his chest. When he opened them again, he noticed for the first time his associate had a busted lip and a black eye. “Ah…well, that is most regrettable. Do you have any leads on the medallion?”

“I’m thinking the guy he lived with has it. Chad.”

“Well, find this Chad.”

“I already found him.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll have to follow up in the morning. He’s selling the amulet to the Arts and Culture Museum at eleven.”

“Why didn’t you just take it from him?”

“I got interrupted and he ran off. But I don’t think he had it on him.”

“I see. This is why you look like someone used your face for a punching bag.”

“Yeah.”

“Not a question. Who do you suppose interrupted you?”

The punching bag shrugged. “Some nosy bastard trying to be a good Samaritan. Don’t think he has anything to do with—”

“Don’t be so sure.” The room went quiet as Maurice attended to the papers on his desk. He glanced at Shane after a few moments. “You’re still here?”

Shane rose from the chair and exited the office. After the door shut, Maurice fished around in his suit jacket pocket for his phone. He dialed the curator at Arts and Culture. Maurice only knew of one museum in town that would be interested in such a piece.

“Hello,” Beverly chimed.

“Good evening, sorry to call so late.” He leaned back in his executive chair.

“Oh, that’s all right, what can I do for you, Maury?”

He ground his molars at the shortened version of his name. “So glad you asked. I had my residence burglarized recently. They stole something of great value to me. A prized artifact.”

“Oh my.”

“Yes. I believe the item may have been sold to your museum. Have you come across an individual that may have tried to sell you a medallion? It’s about the size of a silver dollar, appears to have Druidic markings.”

“I’m not sure, I’ll have to check with the other curators. I don’t oversee those types of collections. Perhaps one of the others acquired the medallion. I’ll check with them in the morning and let you know.”

Maurice held the phone away from his mouth and cursed under his breath.

“Maury? Are you still there?”

“Yes. Please let me know as soon as possible.” He hung up the phone after kissing Beverly’s behind and thanking her profusely for her assistance. Maurice placed another call, using a different phone, for a different sort of conversation.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Julia

“We need to borrow someone’s car,” Julia said. Or steal one. Who would loan their vehicle to a complete stranger?

“All right. How are we going to do that?”

“Simple. This hotel has valet and I know a thing or two.” Julia explained the plan she’d come up with; she’d distract one of the valets and he’d lift a set of keys. Of course, Julia hadn’t accounted for the keys being locked up in a glass door shack. The valet hut stood off to the side of the hotel’s main entrance. Julia watched Aza cock his head from side-to-side. He reminded her of a dog. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll be right back.”

“We need a new plan? This isn’t—” she cast a sideways glance at him. “What the…?” Aza was gone. She saw movement behind the glass door inside the shack. “Oh, my God,” she muttered under her breath.

One of the valets returned with a car. He pulled up into the circular driveway in front of the hotel, and Julia jogged up to the red Cadillac coupe before the guy got out.

She put her hands on the door and leaned into the car. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” the dark blond valet said. She backed up a step so he could look her up and down. And he did. “Can I help you, pretty lady?”

Oh, please.

“Yeah,”
think Julia
, “ah, um.” Aza walked by on the other side of the car. “I gotta go.” Julia trotted away with her hand over her mouth, laughing at herself.

The demon waited for her in the hotel lobby. “How did you get in—”

“Grabbed three keys.” He held them out on his palm.

“Lincoln, BMW, ooh, Mercedes. Let’s go. The parking garage is this way.” She dumped the other sets of keys into a planter full of flowers near the stairs access.

Once in the garage, Julia pushed the disarm button on the key fob. There was a faint chirp. They ran toward the sound. She pressed the button again; the noise was louder. “Here, Benzie, Benzie, Benzie. Where are you?” One more chirp and they located the car. “There you are.”

Julia walked around to the driver’s side. “Aren’t you a beauty?” She eyed the silver C450 Sport Sedan with 18” rims and a 362 horsepower V-6. When she cracked the door, the smell of new leather bombarded her senses. The gray leather seats spelled luxury. She felt guilty “borrowing” the car until she sat behind the wheel.

Aza stood next to her and looked into the car. “Get in on the other side, silly.” He slid in from the passenger side. The car had been backed into the space. Julia pulled out like she owned the Mercedes. She hoped they were early enough to see Chad, before he got to the museum.

HONK!

Julia slammed on the brakes as a car sped past, narrowly missing them. Chad’s. “My lucky day,” she said
.

“Why is today lucky?”

“That was Chad,” she said, pulling in behind him. Julia was too giddy to be annoyed by Aza’s question.

“I know. I can see.”

“Then why did you ask the question if you already knew?” She glanced at his large hands on the tops of his thighs. “Put your seat belt on. We don’t need to get pulled over.” She tugged on her belt to show him what she meant.

Aza grabbed the strap too hard and the belt retracted. And again, he did the same thing. “I think this is broken.”

“No. It’s
not
. Take it slowly.” Chad turned right; she tailed him.

Aza continued playing with the seat belt. “This is broken.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

The light turned red. Julia was one car behind Chad. After all, she didn’t want the guy to know they were trailing him. “Let go of it,” she said, leaning over and taking a hold of the shoulder strap. Her eyes flipped to his face while pulling the belt across his big body. His eyes were down and she caught a glimpse of his long eyelashes. They cast shadows on his cheeks. One more reason to make it easier to leave him when this was over. She couldn’t have a man with better lashes than hers. Right? Julia clipped the belt into place.

The driver behind her honked his horn. She returned her focus toward the road ahead. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

Chad made a left onto the freeway ramp. There were now several cars between them. Julia changed lanes to get closer to Chad’s car. Another car sped past them, weaving in and out of traffic. Speedy managed to get right behind Chad. She zoomed forward in the next lane; she recognized the driver—the freak that helped Bryant outside the Senior Center. She let her foot off the gas a little and fell in behind him and Chad. He didn’t appear to notice her.

They traveled in the formation for about four miles until the traffic thinned. This part of the road had a steep ravine off to the right. The kind of ditch you needed a tow truck to get out of if you spun out and got stuck down. Julia slowed when the driver in front of her switched lanes. The freak bowed left then smashed into Chad’s car. Smoke curled up from beneath Chad’s tire wells. His brakes squealed. The car jerked wildly as he tried to gain control. The other car smacked into him again and stayed alongside Chad, pushing him off the road. Gravel from the shoulder flew into the Mercedes. Julia took her foot off the gas pedal. She checked her rearview mirror; she didn’t see any cars coming.

Chad’s car careened down the embankment and she lost sight of the vehicle. A tree shook and a flock of birds took off in a frenzied motion. Julia’s stomach knotted. She slammed on the brakes and pulled to the shoulder, keeping her distance. Maurice’s thugs made a U-turn and came back around, they slowed as they drove past the place where Chad’s car disappeared. They sped away, seemingly satisfied with what they saw.

After the thugs were out of view, Julia crept forward until the Mercedes was parallel to the ravine and Chad’s car. Aza managed the seat belt and was out of the vehicle before her. “Wait!”
Oh, man.
She blew out a breath.

At the bottom of the wide ditch, the front of Chad’s car was smashed against a tree. The roof and sides of the vehicle were damaged like the car had rolled several times. Julia swallowed back rising bile. The scene was horrific. Aza stood next to the car near the crumpled hood, his hands at his sides.

“How bad is he?” she asked, closing in on his position.

He shook his head. “Almost dead.”

“Can he talk?” Julia knew the question made her sound like a coldhearted bitch. And maybe she was. Aza shrugged. She approached Chad where he was slumped over the steering wheel. The airbag had already deflated and the window was gone. “You alive?” The guy moaned and gurgled. Julia jumped back because she didn’t think he was still breathing. She smelled pennies. The odor was so strong, she pinched her nose. Her voice sounded nasal when she spoke. “Um, see if he has a cell phone we can use,” she said to Aza. He went around to the other side of the car and wrenched the door open with a
screech
and stuck his head inside the car. He looked under the seat, searched the glove compartment, reached around and checked Chad’s pockets, but came up with nothing.

“Na-na…c-cell…ph-phone…” Chad whispered.

“What?” Julia asked. “I thought you said he talked on the phone last night?” She directed her question to Aza.

“He did.”

“Shit, maybe he forgot it at the hotel. Now what?” Despite the airbag deployment, Chad’s head had broken out the side window. Blood oozed from his head. “Chad?” He moaned again. Aza unbuckled him and yanked him out the passenger side. “Hey, don’t! You’re not supposed to—”

Chad screamed.

Aza laid him on the overgrown grass. Julia thought he was walking away until he turned back toward her. He was pacing. She
refocused on the dying man.
“Tell us where the amulet is.” Chad’s face contorted in pain. “Dammit, that necklace was mine. Bryant stole it from me, you idiot. Now look at you.”

He grimaced, then opened his mouth. “D-Druid, ssssold.”

“No shit, you sold it.” She rolled her eyes toward the sky.

“M-Mus…eum sell…Chicagooo…”

“The museum sold it to another museum in Chicago. Well, that’s just great.” Chad closed his eyes and groaned for the last time. Julia threw her hands up in the air. “Goddammit!” She knew the guy’s intentions were probably good, even if the dude was paid for the pendant. She looked down at him and a slice of guilt panged her heart. Poor bastard didn’t need to die for an amulet and a few lousy bucks.

Oh, shut up. Look at you, you’re dead too, monster.

“We will go to the Chicago,” Aza offered after a few minutes.

“It’s a city, not a museum, not a ‘the.’ And no telling where in Chicago. Well, maybe there aren’t a lot of museums that would want it. God, what…”

A barely visible shaft of light descended upon Chad’s body.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

Aza’zel

Aza’s eyes followed the beam of light toward the sky, where it disappeared into the clouds. Tiny particles fluidly danced inside the light, squalls of shiny flecks. He felt the compulsion to stick his hand in the path of light. His first three fingers tingled at first as they passed into the beam. He wiggled them. A smile perked one corner of his mouth. He thrust his entire hand inside and it floated up. Aza strained to keep his hand from rising.

Chad stirred and Aza snapped his hand back to his side. His eyes went wide when the dead man rose from the ground, his chest leading the way and his arms and legs dangling behind him. As he floated toward the sky past Aza, the demon got a glimpse of Chad’s face. His eyes were closed, but there was no longer anguish on the man’s face, only a smile. Aza had the sense Chad was at peace. He was on his way to…where?

Arcadia…

Somehow he knew this place. Had he been there? He pictured golden towers suspended in the clouds above a city below. Earth’s realm. These structures weren’t the final destination for Chad; he was going somewhere else, loftier. Sacred. A place Aza was forbidden from entering.

Aza watched until Chad was high above his head. Then he looked to the ground and saw the man’s body. Just a shell, without a soul. Something left behind for his family to bury.

He put an index finger up to his mouth and felt his chipped front tooth. A memory surfaced amid his disordered mind. Aza remembered a brawl, lots of shouting, someone had hurt him and shoved him backward. Hard.

He was falling, falling. His limbs flailed about his body, the wind strong; he couldn’t see, something covered his eyes, something white and soft. Whatever it was twisted and wrapped around his head. There was pain as sharp as two broken arms.

He tumbled through the air, spinning out of control toward Earth. Aza smacked the ground. He couldn’t move but he was breathing. The ground had cracked out from where he landed face first. He lifted his head for a few seconds and spat dirt, rocks, and blood out of his mouth. White and red feathers were scattered on the ground. He tried to flap his wings, but got only pain in return.

“About time. I’ve been waiting for you to make the right decision. Ra’zael,” a deep voice spoke next to his ear. Abaddon.

“I-I didn’t fall. No!” Aza wanted to run, except he was too weak. The Demon Lord snatched his battered body off the ground.

“You are fallen now. I felt you.”

“No,” he said, and began to pray to Deus.

“He can’t help you. Only I can, but first I must ruin you.” Aza was an angel no more.

That had been a long time ago, at least half a century or more. A tear streaked down his face. Julia made a noise beside him and sank to her knees. She rubbed her chest in circles. She always seemed to be doing that.

“Come. We must go,” he told her.

A scream, deep within her, ripped out of her throat. She pitched onto her side. Her back arched. “What’s happening?”

“Abaddon’s venom poisoned your soul.”

“Oh, God! It hurts!” Her body contorted. “It hur-hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know.” The former angel picked her up and carried her up the hill to the car. Fortunately, he’d learned to drive in the nineteen-sixties. He sat in the driver’s seat and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He thought about what he had said to Elliott the Redeemer in Netherworld. At the time, they both were surprised by his choice of words:
Everything here is a lie.
He’d been more correct than he knew. Aza’zel wasn’t his true name, and goat-legged demon wasn’t his identity. Aza was Ra’zael the Guardian.

“Mother! Fuck!” He pounded his fist on the dashboard.

***

Getting back to the hotel was easy. Listening to Julia scream most of the way slayed him. About a mile from the hotel, she went silent. Her breaths dragged in and out of her. His chest tightened.

Oh, Deus.

Ra’zael stopped the car alongside the road three blocks from the hotel and carried her the rest of the way. After all, they’d stolen a car, and it undoubtedly had been reported to the authorities.

He received a few strange looks from other guests as he held her limp form in his arms. The elevator took its sweet time reaching the lobby. Ra’zael shifted his weight from one foot to the other waiting for the car to arrive.
Ding!

Thank Deus.

He got on the elevator then growled at an elderly couple who wanted on too. The woman halted mid-step. “Oh…I beg your par—” Another growl and a curled lip stopped her objection to the rudeness. She backed off.

The polished brass-lined walls inside the elevator reflected his image. The sides of his beard started to grow fuller. He hated the long goatee dripping off his chin now. His dark hair flopped over his left eye. Julia moaned.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he said. “We’re almost back to the room.”

He laid her on the bed on her stomach; he knew what was coming.