The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure (4 page)

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Authors: A.K. Alexander,Jen Greyson

Tags: #NA fantasy, #Paranormal, #fantasy NA, #NA series, #urban fantasy, #NA fantasy series, #bestselling NA

BOOK: The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure
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“Evangeline,” he said, crossing one elegant leg over the other and clasping his hands over his knee. “You do know that there is spiritual warfare going on at every second of every moment of the day.” He shifted his angel wings on the side closest to me and scooted over on the bench. “I can’t always be available when you call, and I will only come to you when I have some answers. I’m not God, you know.”

“I get that.” I was still miffed that he’d left me in the dark. Maybe if he’d have come earlier I wouldn’t
be
stuck on this side adventure as Clay’s wife. “You have answers then? What are they?”

“I don’t have all of the answers. I’m working on it. Remember what I told you, I may be an archangel but I’m not privy to everything. I am not the end-all and be-all, and much of this journey I have to allow you to do on your own. I’ve been instructed this way.”

I sighed and blew a long piece of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail back out of my face. “I’m aware, and you’re always so good to remind me when I forget. But you must know something.”

“I do have a tidbit for you. I have learned that you will need to travel to Greece.”

“Okay. Is that it? Any other answers?”

“Only that you should be prepared to go directly after the New Year.”

I nodded. “That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so. Your friend will need to know.”

“My friend?”

“Clay.”

“He’s not a friend.” The mere mention stiffened my back. I was too upset over the castle, and Griffin, and this play-acting. “You put us together. He’s a partner. That’s it.”
 

Metatron leaned close and I forced myself not to lean away and show him how upset I was that he’d given me so little information that he might as well have not come. He kissed my cheek. “I shall be seeing you soon. Ralph will have some new information for you, too.”

Finally.
I could always count on Metatron to give Ralph bits of information that the archangel couldn’t give to me directly. “I plan to visit him in a couple of days.”

“Good.” He stared at the skaters and stood, his massive wings spreading and stirring the still air. Then he turned to me, a solemn and serious expression on his face. “I urge you to use caution with regard to this
adventure
with your partner. Danger lurks among those he trusts.”

I nodded. “I feel it.” I stared at him, wishing he could give me more, wishing he wasn’t bound by covenants that forced him to withhold information from me. But he’d at least confirmed my suspicions that Clay and I were missing details that could help us to be successful with this heist of his.

“Merry Christmas, Evangeline.”

Before I could return the sentiment, he was gone.

Lina

I returned to the suite to find Clay on the computer, his blond curls mussed up and his green eyes still heavy with sleep. “Hey. Want to see where the painting is being held?”

I rubbed my palms together, eager to dive into work and give my emotions a rest. “Now we’re talking.”

Just as we did when we scouted out the Renwick Gallery at the Smithsonian, Clay moved swiftly through the 3-D model of the building, showing me exits and cameras and blind spots. He pointed at the screen. “Two guards here, one floater, two on every other exit.” He poked the gaps in the blueprints.

“One floater is going to make it hard. We need to figure out how to get them all in one location so I can take them out with gas or something.”

He pushed the laptop to the point of his knees and leaned back. “Wouldn’t really need you if I could’ve figured out that part, don’t ya think?”

I ignored his sarcasm and leaned closer, letting my gaze roam over the details of the castle. “When do they change shifts?”

“In rotations every two hours. Never more than two guards going off or coming on at a time.”

“Shit.”

“Again … if this was easy, I wouldn’t need you.”

“Thanks.” It was an offhanded comment, but I meant it. The impossible jobs were what I was good at, and, truthfully, the ones I enjoyed the most … but solving the puzzle of a tough assassination was completely different than this. With those, I merely had to wait for my mark to show me the hole in his habitual schedule. Paintings didn’t move. Paintings didn’t have schedules.

But security guards did. I just had to find the pattern. “Scroll through again, point out the guards.”

He did and I memorized the layout, their posts, and calculated in the rotations, looking for the stability and reliability inherent to all humans. It was our biggest flaw, one I exploited at every opportunity—we liked the comfort of habits. “Do they mix up the order of who goes off, or does that stay static?”

His lips flattened into a line of concentration and he clicked through the schedule, matching it up to the castle’s layout. “This is a new system since acquiring the painting, so they might change it in the future, like every thirty days they restructure, but for now…” He clicked through the blueprint and schedule again, rapidly flipping back and forth. “Right now it looks like the posts rotate at the same time every day.”

That was something and I needed to let my brain gnaw on it for a bit. I settled back into the sofa. “Let me ask you, how do we pull off this duchess-and-duke scenario?”

“Made them up.”

“Oh, swell. I figured that. What’s the deal?”

“The Jeffries have an older son, about our age, who is currently living in the U.S. Went to school at Harvard and is somewhat considered the scourge of the family. He didn’t do much with himself after college and lives the life of Riley in the big city. However, his mother adores him. You, dear lady, went to school with him. I am an old friend from boarding school, and when I went for a visit to the States, he introduced us. I saved you from having to put on the accent. There’s a file in my briefcase. It’s all on the wonder boy who was so kind to send his mum an e-mail for us and have us placed on the guest list His name is Richard. I suggest you memorize it what’s in the file. I have. I’m not too worried about questions. This will be a full party. The hosts will likely not even notice us.”

“I probably don’t want to know how you hacked into this Richard’s email.”

“You’ve seen what I can do with a computer, Lina. That was kindergarten stuff.” He smiled all chagrin.

“Of course it was. Okay, so anything else?”

“Yes. We have to get in and out.” He pointed back to the screen and punched in some keys, switching the scene from the inside of the castle where the painting was located to the outside. “This is the service entrance, and before we head in as our royal Merriweather selves, we need to get another car for our getaway. Preferably a catering van of sorts, something that looks like it might belong with the servant quarters. I’ll take care of getting it parked.”

“I don’t even want to know.” My team always handled details like that for me during
jobs
, and the less I knew about those details, the better. “Documents?”

“Taken care of—IDs, disguises, passports.”

He’d done a good job, and I wasn’t surprised. At least in this area of his life, he was the utmost professional.

As I stood up and walked to his briefcase, there was a knock at the door.
 

“Just a moment,” Clay yelled out and then lowered his voice. “Wrap a towel around you and look like you’ve been in a state of bliss. No.” He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the bed. “Better yet, get under the covers. I’ll get the towel.”

I groaned, but did as he ordered.

He opened the door to Lloyd, a large wrapped box in his outstretched hands. “Sir.”

“Thank you, Lloyd.” Clay’s accent was getting better and he’d found an air of sophistication as well. “The Duchess and I have decided to take dinner in this evening.”

“That can be arranged. I shall have the chef make the preparations. Say, seven?”

“Absolutely splendid.” Clay closed the door and came to the side of the bed where I got out from under the covers and stood up. He handed me the box.

“What’s this?”

“For you.” A gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Open it.”

I eyed him and unwrapped the gift. Inside, under tissue was a floor-length, sleeveless red dress. It was simple but elegant and I held it up. It was also my size.

“Your gown, my lady.”

“You know my size?”

He grinned and let his hungry gaze slip down my body. “I know women’s bodies.”

I punched him on the shoulder and laughed. “Of course you do.”

Lina

The next day flew by while snow fell outside in thick, fat flakes, helping us out by layering the ground with inches of fluffy padding. Last night, we’d worked late, making plans, eating crab cakes, lamb chops, and amazing side dishes, along with drinking some great wine. We’d joked and actually had some decent conversation that didn’t revolve around death, demons, and heists. I told him about Metatron’s visit and where we were headed. “Love Greece” had been his one comment.

Malcolm called in the middle and I updated him, keeping details to a bare minimum over the open line. I did tell him that I’d be spending Christmas at Ralph and Anna’s, just so he’d know that I wouldn’t be alone. This would be the first Christmas that we wouldn’t be together and I was going to miss him. Clay had eased up on the teasing after that, unsure how far to press me to shake me out of my melancholy.

Rising early, we got back to the planning until there was nothing left to cover. Now the time had come to make our way up the front steps of the castle and be announced as the Duke and Duchess of Merriweather. The snow had stopped falling, as if perfectly timed with the evening’s festivities, but the gardening crew had piled mounds of it on either side of the sidewalk, managing to dress it up with large torches that lit the long walk toward the entrance.

Darkness wrapped around us like the fur cloak wrapped around me as we waited in the long line of party-goers. I wondered, not for the first time, about Clay’s clients. I was curious about a buyer who’d sent him after the first relic—Solomon’s ring, and now an obscure painting by this Oliver Lareux. Those were two totally different circles of people, prices, and status. It was odd enough for someone to be interested in the same religious relics I was, but paired with what we were attempting tonight, it was … unsettling.

When I’d dug around in my sources for intel on Clay after he’d hijacked my heist, I’d found nothing about who hired him, only that he was well recommended and in high demand. From our surprise encounter, he’d certainly been a professional—enough to screw up my mission, and that was nearly impossible.
 

We weren’t quite to the point that I could flat-out ask him about his buyers. And while I realized we’d covered a lot of topics together, there was something about that level of privacy that I didn’t want to invade. I’d only told him the barest of details about who I worked with, and I’d left a few dozen out—on purpose. By asking him questions, I was opening myself up to them, and I had a lot to hide. Even from a guy who knew things no one else ever would.

I shifted uncomfortably and assessed the couples walking up the front stairs to the mansion. They looked every bit the ambassadors or royalty or affluent people that they were. Nothing about tonight’s guest list had struck me as anything I’d need to worry about. If this were one of my jobs, I’d have hidden among the shadows, taken out my hit, and been gone before anyone hit the panic button.

And I’d damn sure be doing it in pants. I tugged the slit of my dress closed where it had come open at the top of my thigh. This gown was gorgeous and admittedly sexy—and not anything I’d have worn in a million years.
No
alias of mine would
ever
need to be dressed like this. For. Any. Reason. This was half of what I loved about my job. There was zero schmoozing, interacting, baby-kissing. I worked in the shadows and I’d thought Clay did too. I was leery of this whole deal and my gut didn’t feel right. I also had Metatron’s warning in the back of my head.
 

“I’m not sure that I’m happy about this.”

He tucked a finger beneath his collar and tugged. “Yeah, not a fan of the monkey suit, gotta be honest. Payday, Duchess. Just keep your mind on the prize.”

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just taken it while everyone was busy with the party in another area of the castle.”

“You saw the layout and the guard schedule. Just when, exactly, did you think we’d be able to pull that off? Sometimes the best pick is when everything is in plain sight.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

I turned my head and looked at him, leaning on decades of training and what I knew about working with him so far. I did trust him, and that worried me, because that was how people got killed. I didn’t do team assignments for a reason. I liked being one hundred percent in control at all times. Clay wasn’t just taking me out of my comfort zone, he was making me work beyond my limits as an assassin too. I didn’t do well with the lights on.

He squeezed my shoulder.

“Yes,” I sighed heavily. “I do.”

Clay’s fingers wrapped around my chin and he pulled me close. “Then really trust me.”

Clay

Clay held his elbow for Lina. She was drop-dead hotness in that dress. It was going to take all his control to stay focused on tonight’s job with her in that number. He’d thought bringing her as his
wife
would be a funny joke and a way to fill out their friendship, but he was glad to have her along for her expertise too. Much as he hated to admit it, there would have been no way that he’d have been able to pull off this job.

The level of misdirection and miscommunication that he’d gotten from his buyer from the initial bid to what they were walking into tonight didn’t sit right with him. But he hadn’t admitted any of that to Lina, especially when she had her own reservations. Clay had worked with this buyer for years, and did several heists a year for him, without a single hiccup or problem. Until tonight, they’d proven simple and straightforward—still incredibly advanced for the average guy, but some of Clay’s easier jobs.

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