The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2 (18 page)

“Human, stop playing games,” Mari snarled and advanced on Luna.

Jackson laid a hand on her arm as she passed him. His touch halted her. Muscles under her arm bunched. A reaction to her anger or his touch? She lifted her gaze to his then her eyes narrowed.

Ignoring her red-tinged glare, he leaned forward. “Easy, Mari. We aren’t going to get anything from her if you scare the crap out of her.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. He released her arm. Surprise filled him when, despite her reaction, she covered the place his fingers had been with her other hand. Did she feel something?

He turned back to Luna. “Please, Luna, tell us what you know. We are running out of time.”

“Don’t worry. The woman who was here did not get the information from Katungi. Only I know where the man went. He told me he was taking the skull to its home.”

Home? Where the hell was the blasted thing’s home?

A place occurred to him. Something he’d read in the research on the skull. “Do you mean Belize?”

Like a bird, Luna’s head tilted again. “Belize? I do not know this place.”

“What about Lubaantun?”

Luna’s face brightened and she nodded. “Yes, yes, that’s it. He also called it the City of Fallen Stones. Said the skull had been taken from its resting place and he would return it.”

Jackson rested on his heels. The City of Fallen Stones was in Belize. From what he’d learned, the ruins there were little more than a few groupings of stone, and the site had been explored so completely there was nothing else to find. How could the skull be returned and kept safe?

He looked up at Mari. She stared at Luna, two vertical lines between her brows. He got the sense she was examining the little woman as if she were a particularly interesting bug. Did she want to squish or preserve the bug?

“Mari.”

She snapped her gaze to him. As always, the violet of her eyes hit him like a slap. What would they look like if they gazed at him with passion? Or love?

Whoa, son. Love? Where’s that coming from?
He may want to jump her bones but he sure as hell didn’t love her.

He cleared his throat. “Looks like we are going to the jungle.”

Mari nodded then lifted her head. “We must go. There are more humans coming.” She jerked her thumb at the pile of dead warlord. “This man’s people.” Her eyes widened, the red under the violet flaring again. After a few seconds, she looked at Jackson. “I’ve slowed them down but it won’t be for too long.”

Jackson rose. “Thank you, Luna.” His gaze landed on the little woman.

“I’ll be fine, Jackson,” she said, answering a question he’d only just thought about asking.

He stared at her for a moment, bent his head in a brief nod and started for the door. Sometimes, he’d learned, it didn’t pay to ask about things he didn’t really want to know.

The determined crunch of boots on the shattered wood told him Mari followed. He’d taken a couple of steps but came to a halt when he heard, “Wait.” He noted Mari did the same.

“I have something else to tell you,” Luna said. He and Mari turned to face the other woman. Her expression was earnest and mysterious. “Something important.”

“What is it?” Annoyance darkened Mari’s tone.

Shit, he knew that edge in her voice. Meant she was borderline ready to knock heads. The way she glared at Luna meant she intended the woman to be the first.

“The evil woman. She asked that one”—Luna continued as she pointed at the dead woman with the long red hair. The serenity in Luna’s blue gaze seemed to hold no clue just how close Mari was to exploding—“about her daughter. Catherine. The evil one was going to go after Catherine.”

Mari lifted her shoulders impatiently. “This matters to us why, human? We do not have the time to protect one human female.”

Jackson started to protest but Luna raised her arm and pointed at Mari. “She will go to her first. If she gets Catherine, she will know how to find the skull. And Beliel will then know how to use it.”

Chapter Twelve

Mari jerked her head back then narrowed her eyes at the woman. “For a human, you seem to know a lot about otherworldly things.”

Luna smiled. “I know a lot of things, otherworldly or otherwise.”

As Mari stared into the small female’s eyes, she got the sense she was looking at something more than human yet not demon or angel.

Luna
tsk
ed. “Before you ask, you should be focused on what I know, not how I know it.”

By Cerberus’s heads, the itch to pound her fists into the walls in frustration twitched within her. Mari’s shoulder blades burned with the need to release her wings. She and Jackson continually took one step forward only to be thrown two steps backward.

Jackson swept a hand through his hair, tousling the sandy strands. His lips were pressed into a thin line. In his eyes, she saw the same aggravation mixed with confusion she was sure shone in hers.

He met her gaze. “We don’t have a choice. We have to go and find this Catherine.”

Mari growled. She turned to Luna. “Fine. I’ll play it your way. Where is this female?”

Luna nodded at the dead woman. “Wherever this one came from.” She then did the bird thing with her head. “Do you need me to tell you everything?”

This time Mari didn’t care. Her lips lifted over her canines as she snarled. Luna didn’t react except for the slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The damnable human didn’t flinch or recoil in horror. Hellfire. Mari whirled and stalked over to the dead mortal female’s side. She crouched beside the body.

Emerald eyes bulged, the shrunken flesh drawing away. Sadness and regret hovered behind stark terror. She peered closer. The emotions Mari was experiencing were only recordings of what the woman had felt. Her soul was gone. From the aural rips, it looked as if the mortal’s soul had been torn from her.

Mari rocked back on her heels. Jahi hadn’t been content with draining the woman of her life energy. She’d stolen her soul, which meant a soul stealer had been present. And while soul stealers were common enough, they were loners. There was only one who worked with other demons—Beliel in particular. This confirmed Lucifer’s son was, indeed, in pursuit of the skull.

If what the little woman said was true, he was much closer than them to finding it.

Ignoring the rough, lizard-skin-like mortal shell, Mari placed her fingers on the dead woman’s forehead and closed her eyes. Not many Fallen possessed this power—the power to read the leftover energy from a mortal. Because of her affinity with fire and energy, she could reach inside and find past experiences. Closing out her surroundings, Mari allowed herself to sink deeper into the female. With the soul gone, there was only a bit of energy left.

As Mari sorted through the weak streams, she saw a pale-white light deep into the barren psyche.
Hmm. Interesting.
It seemed the female had some latent abilities and while she’d lost her soul—she’d kept something back. Must have been important.

Mari sent her own energy into the light, merging her dark violet with the faint glow, and was immediately thrust into the woman’s memory.

The woman watched Catherine working the room. Her daughter’s hair, smooth with her dark strands shining under the lights a deep walnut against the blonde, bobbed as she flitted from guest to guest. She never stayed long in one place but made sure she visited with every one of the men and women present. Pride she’d never show her daughter swelled through her. There were so many things she’d done wrong and only one thing she’d gotten right, and that was Catherine. And that, to be honest only to herself, was purely not her doing.

The dark man she’d met one night while she was attending a Hollywood A-list party was the reason she had a daughter. From the moment he entered the room, she only had eyes for him, and when he headed directly for her, she knew he felt the same.

As if the partygoers knew he was someone special, they parted when he moved toward her. Her breath had hitched in her chest, the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine and the soft scent of roses filling her nostrils.

Up close, the man was breathtaking. The tips of his dark hair brushed against his shoulders, a silken, dark river with light dancing in the strands. His strong jawline, clear of any five o’clock shadow, begged for her lips. He moved with ease, stalking toward her as if she were prey. She’d never seen a man like him.

He stopped before her and bent his head in a brief nod. “Good evening. Lillian, isn’t it?”

Her name on his lips eased over her skin, raising the tiny hairs on her arms and neck. “Yes,” she breathed, even though she suspected he knew who she was and his question was only a formality.

“I’m Rafe Eveningstar.”

She didn’t recognize the name. Not an actor then. Her gaze traveled down over his broad shoulders, across the midnight blue of his tux—a Ralph Lauren by the cut and fit of the fabric. His clothing screamed wealth and affluence.

She gave him her hand. He brought it to his lips in an old-world gesture she rarely saw. Against her skin, his lips were warm and soft. A flush of desire rocketed through her, beginning in her chest and moving to her woman’s core. God in Heaven, she wanted this man.

His gaze met hers, held it—the satisfaction in the icy blue making her feel as if he’d heard her thoughts. But there was something else there. In his eyes. Something sad.

His lips firmed. “I’ve had a long journey and need some fresh air. Would you take a walk in the garden?”

She nodded. With her hand resting on his arm, her fingers feeling the corded muscles under the sleeve, she strolled beside him as they made their way through the crowd. She held her head high, mindful of the staring looks, the hungry expressions in men’s gazes and the spiteful ones from the women. Looks she was familiar with and tended to encourage. Yet on Rafe’s arm, she wanted to be invisible to all but him.

Outside, the cool air offered relief for her hot skin from the heat indoors. When he took her in his arms, she didn’t protest. Without words, without foreplay, he pressed her against the sturdy lattice of the gazebo and took her with a desperation she only half noted. When he was done, he pulled from her and straightened his clothing, then helped her with hers. She tried to speak, ask him when she would see him again.

He only placed a finger on her mouth and shook his head. “This,” he said and set a hand on her belly, “is all I can give you.”

He gave her a tender kiss and before she could do more than gasp out his name, disappeared into the night. Despite her following him, she lost him in the tangle of trees and hedges. It was as if he’d never been there. Only the dampness between her legs proved he had. And the full feeling in her stomach. She’d known at that moment she was pregnant.

Nine months later, she gave birth to a beautiful girl with blonde hair streaked by darker strands and blazing blue eyes that cooled to ice as she grew older. She knew her daughter didn’t understand why Lillian did the things she did. And she’d never tell her. Nor would she ever tell her about Rafe. After that night, she’d never seen him again. Not after Catherine had been born or when her daughter had turned into an adult. But somehow, Lillian knew he watched. She’d never seen him but she’d felt him the same way she’d felt him that night.

She didn’t know why he left and hid himself from her. She only knew he’d given her this beautiful daughter but had taken a piece of her soul with him. Even his second
gift
—a baby girl of all things—to her failed to ease the pain of her loss; it only encouraged it. The depositing of his
gift
had been easily solved which left whatever she had to give for Catherine, her true daughter.

Lillian focused on her daughter again. Catherine would be, and already was, stronger than her mother. Even if she didn’t understand, Catherine would learn to be in control. To never allow someone to be so close only to lose so much. Lillian’s lips firmed. Her daughter would never know what it was like to love someone she couldn’t have.

The vision abruptly cut off. When Mari came back, she was surprised to find her face damp and a hand weighing heavily, but gently, on her shoulder. Hell’s gate, what had happened? She swung her head around and looked up at Jackson. In his warm green gaze, she saw concern mixed with compassion.

“Hey, you okay?” he murmured. “What did you see?”

Before she answered, she noticed Luna hovering near the door. The little woman’s blue eyes were soft and filled with gentle understanding. She winked at Mari then turned and walked out the door. Mari frowned. Who was this little mortal?

“Mari? What’s going on?”

Her gaze returned to Jackson. She shrugged off his touch and stood. “Nothing.” She was not going to share with him the details of the vision. It was enough he’d seen her with such weak emotions. “I know where this Catherine is. Los Angeles. And I know why Beliel needs her. The family line is Raphael’s.”

Jackson reared back as his eyes widened. A second later, they narrowed. “Raphael? It’s been a while since Sunday School, but isn’t he one of the archangels. Like Michael?”

Mari nodded.

“Well, don’t that beat all. You think the bastard knows this?”

“I’m sure he does now if he didn’t before.”

“Do you think this Raphael knows?”