Key of Solomon: Relic Defender, Book 1

by Cassiel Knight

  Lexi reared back. Holy hell. Shock careened through her body. Stupid? Dense? And where had the cultured tone come from?

  “Devyn’s whereabouts are not important,” he continued. “And you are not responsible for what happened. You merely waste time by searching for her.”

  “I’m wasting time? For crying out loud, Joe, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fate of the world. A fate you allow to come closer the longer you fight your destiny.”

  “Oh, God, not you too.” Lexi groaned out the words, exasperation and annoyance fighting for dominance. “What is this? Remakes of the old Candid Camera television show?”

  She reached blindly behind and pulled out a chair. Lexi lowered herself into the wooden seat, okay fell, and rested her elbows on the scarred table. Cupping her head in her hands, she muttered to the pitted surface, “This is ridiculous. What happened to my fairly normal, if a bit boring, life?”

  Okay, maybe belly dancing in an exotic dance club while attending college wasn’t exactly normal. But it was a life. And it had a purpose. Get a degree. Get out of Chicago.

  Another chair creaked as Joe sat. She lifted her head. His serene brown eyes were mild and contemplative. Not hers. Her expression had to be as bleak as she felt.

  Something clicked in her brain. “Wait. How do you know what’s going on?”

  Obviously ignoring her question, the jerk, he continued, “I know this is an unexpected, and unwanted, burden. I’m certain that if Sierra and Alexander knew their fate, they would have not chosen to travel to Egypt.”

  She barely registered everything he said, but clearly heard him mention her parents. And the manner in which he did. “You knew my parents?”

  Joe nodded. “Indeed. More so your father. Your heritage comes from him.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Snapping it shut she said, “Great. My father left me one hell of a legacy.”

  “Lexi, I know all of this is a shock—”

  Talk about an understatement. “That’s putting it mildly, Joe,” she interrupted, her tone heavy with sarcasm.

  He nodded again. “As unfortunate as your childhood began, it doesn’t change the fact this is your destiny. And you are greatly needed. More than you know.”

  “What makes you an expert?” Lexi lowered her voice, her head moving from side to side as she peered into the dark before continuing, “Are you, ah, an angel?”

  She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. Was she really asking Joe if he was an angel? Yep, definitely losing her mind. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d made a connection between Mikos, his wings and angels. It was the only thing to explain her current foot-in-mouth disease.

  “What I am is not important. Suffice it to say, I know more than it appears.” He held up a hand to halt her next words. “You have more pressing matters than finding one lost girl. You must save your fellow humans.”

  “I’m supposed to save my fellow humans?” Lexi repeated. When he didn’t respond, she lifted her gaze skyward. “I don’t even care about my freaking fellow humans!”

  She was starting to feel like a parrot. After all, she’d had this same conversation with Mikos. Lexi lowered her head and met Joe’s placid countenance. Damn him. “What if I don’t want this destiny?”

  “Then the human race will perish.”

  Chapter Eight

  “We become just by performing just actions, temperate by performing temperate actions, brave by performing brave actions."

  Aristotle

  Lexi didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Reality had taken a walk leaving behind a mishmash of secrets, lies and disguises.

  “You’ve got to be joking, Joe,” she said when she’d finally found her voice. “The powers-that-be have chosen me to save the world? Isn’t there some other person, maybe one destined for sainthood that would do a better job?”

  “There is no one else, Lexi.”

  “I feel pretty sorry for the world then.” She pushed back, the chair’s legs dragging against the wood floor. Howard hated when patrons did that. He didn’t like to spend the money to buff out the scratches. And why the hell was she thinking of this now?

  Joe didn’t move. He simply stared up at her, his eyes brimming with empathy. And concern. For her or the world?

  “Don’t look at me like that.” She didn’t like the way his pursed lips and narrowed gaze made her feel. As if she let him down. “How long have you known me? In all that time, what have I done to make you, or anyone, think I give a damn about the rest of the world?”

  “Your heart says otherwise.”

  “My heart?” She laughed, a brief bark of sound that even to her sounded, well, just wrong. “My heart is an organ that pumps blood. It doesn’t feel, or care. It’s just there.”

  Much like me, she added to herself.

  Joe sighed, a heavy sigh as if the weight of the world rested on his round shoulders. “If that is true then your race will not survive what will come should you not take up your destiny.”

  Great. An attempt to transfer the weight from his shoulders to hers. “Don’t lay that on me.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something more. She held up a hand. “You know what? I’ve had it. I’m going back to school and my job, such as it is. When I’ve graduated, I’m leaving. The world can take care of itself.”

  With that final parting shot, Lexi spun and left, the metal door squealing on its hinges.

  The next day Lexi strode the near empty hallways at Haskell Hall. She was long overdue to talk to him about the gold box, the amulet and now Mikos. If anyone could help her make sense of this mess, it was the only person she trusted. Besides, despite his odd behavior two nights ago, she needed something to take her mind off the events of the last several days.

  Including her strange conversation with Joe. Who the hell was he anyway?

  When she’d asked him that question, he’d replied with a straight man’s face that he was a poor accountant in love with an exotic dancer. Once he’d delivered his bombshell comment, he said nothing further except for reiterating she should not try to find Devyn.

  Lexi’s confident step faltered for a moment, the sharp click of her boot heels skipping a beat. What was she going to do? Listen to Joe or her own heart? That such a decision needed to be made boggled her mind.

  The nearly deserted hallways echoed, casting the sounds of her footsteps against and bouncing off walls. Noticing the tomb-like stillness, she hesitated in front of the Professor’s closed door. Again. Even though classes hadn’t begun, she was used to seeing and hearing a level of bustle non-existent this afternoon.

  Something was definitely wrong. Not with the silence of the building or the closed door. Professor Xaviera was always in. His office never looked dark like it did now. Her gut knotted. Based on the way her last couple of days had gone, she didn’t expect his absence to be a good thing. She grasped the doorknob and slowly pushed open the door.

  Her first impression corrected her assumption that his office was dark. It wasn’t. Not completely. A brass lamp cast a soft glow, reflecting off the scarred, polished mahogany of the antique desk. The light offered a soothing contrast to the deep shadows, but since the environment it highlighted was so at odds with the way he normally kept his desk, there was nothing comforting about it.

  No Archeology Magazine or National Geographic issues were stacked precariously near the lamp. No numerous snippets of reports and tattered pieces of handwritten notes spread out on the desktop. All the usual mess was gone. Except for a pristine desk blotter, the desk was disturbingly bare.

  Lexi bit her lower lip and ran her gaze around the room. Swirls of unease curled up her spine. Rattled by the unusual state of his office, she skittered away from the desk. As she did, she saw a flash of white under his chair. She crouched.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  Shit! Lexi started, scooped up the card and jerked upright. On the way up, she caught her hip on the corn
er of the desk.

  “Ouch! Damn it!” She muttered a few other choice words and slid the business card into her jeans pocket. While rubbing her throbbing hip, she turned to glare at the intruder.

  The student standing in the doorway glared back at her. He looked familiar. Small-boned, medium height, with tight curls of dark hair capping a too-little head. At the same time she remembered where she’d seen him, he said, “Hey, you were in the Professor’s night class. Me too. I’m Pete.”

  Pete came further into the room, a smile stretching his lips wide. The flash of his white teeth looked insincere in the dim light. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. No one is allowed in here,” he continued.

  Lexi held back a sarcastic comment about her professor’s office being open to anyone when a thought occurred to her. “Wait, what did you mean when you said I was in the Professor’s night class?”

  Pete stopped his advance. A momentary expression of discomfort crossed his broad face. “You haven’t heard?”

  “I haven’t heard what?”

  “The Professor’s been killed. Someone slit his throat. I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I heard a cop tell the other he was killed with some kind of sword.”

  Pete lowered his voice and leaned in. “They said he was practically decapitated.”

  Lexi reeled, her hand coming down hard on the desk to support her suddenly weak body. Professor Xaviera was dead? Killed? By a sword?

  “I thought everyone knew. The police only just released the Professor’s office. Not much in the way of clues, I guess, but you know…” His voice trailed off. “Hey, you okay?”

  She looked up to see Pete poised near her, his hand raised as if he intended to offer assistance. She waved him off then asked, “When?”

  “Two nights ago.”

  Two nights ago? That would make it Monday. The last day she’d seen him. The day he’d given her that box with the strange amulet carefully protected inside. The same amulet which pressed against her chest, but now felt as if it had increased a ton in weight.

  The same amulet that had supposedly saved her life.

  An urge to rip the freaking thing from her neck and throw it into Lake Michigan filled her mind. Could it be a coincidence that Professor Xaviera was murdered the day she received the amulet? From him?

  “Listen, you want to go and get some, uh, coffee or something? You look pale.”

  Lexi turned her gaze on Pete. His gaze flattened, and he stepped back a bit. She could only guess at what he saw in her expression. Were her eyes as shocked and wild as she felt?

  She shook her head. “Thanks, Pete, but I can’t. I need to, um, go to the library to meet some friends.”

  Great, Lexi, thought you were a much better liar than that. She pasted a weak smile on her face. She could tell Pete didn’t buy her lame excuse, but was grateful she turned him down. Probably wondered if she was losing it. Hell, she wondered the same thing herself.

  Not caring if she alarmed Pete further, Lexi ducked around him, tore out the office and fled back down the hallway.

  Slamming open the outside double doors, she avoided clipping an entering couple by fractions of an inch. She mumbled an apology and dashed down the stairs.

  Only several blocks away did she slow. When had things started spinning out of control? All she wanted was to be left alone. To finish school. To create a new life somewhere else.

  Two fucking days. That’s all it had taken for her life to come crashing around her.

  Lexi opened the door to her apartment. After tossing her backpack onto the ratty piece of furniture that passed for a couch, she headed for the kitchen. She rubbed her temples, her head screaming for an aspirin. Or two. Then a shower. And food. In that order.

  Halfway to the kitchen, she stopped. Her nose wrinkled. What the hell was that smell? She sucked in a deep sniff. The stench, a cross between rotten eggs and wet ashes, seemed to fill the small space.

  “Terrific.” She sighed. Despite keeping very little food in her fridge, something had gone bad. Seriously bad. Her stomach churned. So much for food. Pivoting around, she headed to her bedroom.

  “Nice place you have. A bit shabby, but it does have a certain rustic charm.” The cold, clipped tone cut into the silence.

  Lexi whirled and stumbled backward a couple of steps until she bumped into the end table. The lamp wobbled, tipping toward her. Instinctively, she grabbed it, never taking her eyes from the man. At least she thought it was a man.

  The man-shaped…thing stood near her front door. Skin of glossy black, dark as the darkest coal, and etched with strange ruby sigils glowing in a vivid display of color. Matching the hue of the swirling symbols, his eyes shone deep red, like a carmine pool of blood.

  Holy hell. She didn’t know what to say. Yanking her mouth shut, she swallowed.

  “Get the hell out,” Lexi finally said in a low voice taut with anger. She ignored the fear turning the blood in her veins to ice water.

  Her apartment was her sanctuary. She didn’t care who, or what, he was. Or even if he was a milestone on her path to a breakdown. No one had ever invaded her home before. Suddenly, her sanctuary felt unclean.

  “Tsk, tsk, that’s no way to speak to a guest.” His voice, though quiet, had an ominous quality like an evil purr. “Wouldn’t you like to know who I am and why I’m here?”

  Lexi barely kept from shuddering. Tinged with a deep bass tone, his voice reverberated through her body, flicking her nerves until they jumped and all she wanted to do was run.

  “I don’t care. Just get out.”

  The man raised a brow and shook his head. He strolled over to the window, the natty gray duster he wore swirling about his legs. She hadn’t really noticed the coat, her attention fixed on the coal-black skin.

  He stared out the glass. Without turning around, he asked, “Would you care if I told you I was here to change your life?”

  He’d turned to face her. Now his red eyes held a hint of churning bruise-shaded yellow. Their gazes collided, his scrutiny seemingly measuring her with a cool appraising look. A single look, that if she read correctly, appeared to not only judge but to dismiss her as inconsequential.

  Lexi lifted her chin. Screw him. Like she gave a flying fig.

  “I’ve had enough life changing experiences, thank you. Get out. I’m not telling you again.” Lexi eyed the distances to her backpack and the kitchen. Either held something she could use as a weapon. Could she get there before he attacked?

  At the same time, the feeling that weapons would have little to no effect on him crossed her mind. Still. She’d take that chance rather than stand here and let him continue to defile her home.

  A faraway part of her wondered how, when, she’d stepped from disbelief to belief. But then, why not? After all, she’d died and had the ability to talk to rocks.

  “Oh, I think you’ll like this,” he continued, sliding her a flat glance.

  He, it, she didn’t know what to call him, waved his hand. The room spun, her furniture and the pictures on her walls blurring into one jumbled mass of brightly, swirling pigment.

  After a teeth jarring halt, the spinning stopped, leaving her standing on shaky legs in the center of a cute Martha Stewart-like cozy living room crowded with soft touches like fluffy pillows, wispy curtains and framed pictures of happy people, their smiles filling half their faces.

  She twisted, her eyes sweeping around the room, taking in everything. The black-skinned man was gone.

  “Hello?” she called out not really expecting to receive a response but needing to hear something echoing in the tomb-like stillness of the room.

  As she expected, no one responded. She walked over to a grouping of pictures on a side table. The faces in them pulled at her. One showed a couple with two children, a boy and a girl. She bent and looked closer, her focus on the woman. The mother?

  Lexi’s stomach did a somersault then stopped, sitting like a block of ice in her abdomen. The mother’s face had her features. Slightly dif
ferent, more rounded and soft, long, wavy hair, but still her face looked back at her.

  Transfixed, she moved her attention to the two children. The girl, more so than the boy, also bore touches of Lexi’s features. Fascinated, she reached out and stroked a finger down the girl’s cheek imagining she could feel the silky smooth surface.

  “This appeals to you?” The deep bass was back.

  Although she stiffened, this time, she didn’t face him. All she could to do was take in the life the pictures depicted. The snapshots that showed the her-but-not-her likeness in various scenes with the man and the two children.

  “You could have this life,” the cold, flat tone left her feeling chilled despite the fire flickering merrily in the fireplace. “A family of your own, a life where you don’t have to expose your body to the lust of men. This could be yours.”

  For a price.

  He didn’t have to say the words. She heard them anyway. A family of her own? She’d never had that, not really. Since her parents died while she was still so young, her memories were of being shuffled from foster home to foster home. Not all the families were bad. Most just didn’t care to get close to a lonely child not their own.

  Only in the deep recesses of her heart could she admit she was tempted. She remembered the nights when she’d dreamed of having a family. She could never comprehend the other kids who talked about how awful their parents were and how yucky it was to have a sister or brother. Lexi would have given up anything to experience what those kids did.

  She turned from the pictures. The man—it?—from her apartment stood in the center of the room, confidence oozing from his wide stance. Like he knew what he offered was everything Lexi had ever wanted.

  A similar recognition of the sensation of power in Mikos’s eyes had swept through her. Except, unlike Mikos’s, the soul behind this man’s regard was as pitch-black as the skin under the colorful designs.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I want to give this life to you.”

  She snorted. “That’s not what I’m asking. What do you want from me in exchange for this?” Lexi waved her hand, encompassing the room, the pictures and the chance to have a family of her own.