Key of Solomon: Relic Defender, Book 1

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Key of Solomon: Relic Defender, Book 1 Page 12

by Cassiel Knight


  “He made me an offer,” she said and lifted her head, her gaze sparring with his.

  “What kind of offer?”

  The phrase an offer you can’t refuse flashed into her mind. She didn’t let it out. Probably a smart decision based on the silver sparking in his eyes. Where the hell did he get that unusual ability?

  Instead of uttering any number of smartass comments wavering on her tongue, she answered, “A normal life. One with a family.”

  “A normal life,” he repeated. His tone sounded as if it had as much emotion as a rock.

  Oops. Better scratch that. She actually knew a rock with emotion.

  “Lexi, you must stay away from him.”

  “Hey, I didn’t invite him. He just showed up.” She wrinkled her nose. “What’s the big deal?”

  “You don’t know him. He’s dangerous.”

  Lexi placed on hand on her hip and tapped her right foot. “So? I didn’t know you, but that didn’t stop you from interfering.”

  Mikos’s eyes narrowed. “That is different.”

  “Feels the same to me.” She paused. “Besides, all he’s done is show me another life.”

  A life she’d always wanted. Sounded so simple. So easy. So confusing.

  “For a price.”

  Lexi shrugged again. “Everything comes with a price tag.” And everyone could be bought. The only variance was the dollar amount.

  “What did he want from you?” Mikos continued.

  “To give him some kind of book. A book I’m sure I don’t have.”

  Mikos face turned to stone. No, not the Rocky-type stone, but hard, cold granite. “If you had the book, would you take Beliel’s offer?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She truly didn’t. As tempting as it was to realize she could have a family of her own, it bothered her that Beliel offered her a ready-made family. After all, if she really wanted a family, she’d have found herself a nice guy and made babies. Sure, and it was just that easy wasn’t it? Except, she wanted…

  Something else.

  Something special.

  Something just for her.

  So, she didn’t know what that something was. And while she wouldn’t admit it to Mikos, she wasn’t sure she’d want to pay the cost for whatever Beliel offered. She sensed it would be high.

  Despite the set expression on his face, Mikos’s tone had a controlled lightness as he said, “Lexi, you are the only one who can do this. God expects this of you, and your race needs you. Do not make the mistake of thinking only of yourself. Too much is at stake.”

  The critical and patronizing tone in Mikos’s voice punched like a sledgehammer at her chest. How dare he try to make her feel selfish? He had no idea of the life she’d led or things from her past. Damn right she was selfish. She had to be.

  Growing up in the system and then on the streets had taught her if she didn’t look after herself no one else would. A hard lesson to learn at the age of twelve but she had, and no man, no matter how attractive he was, was going to stand there and make her feel bad about her choices.

  Lexi shoved Mikos’s chest. “Where the hell was your God when I lost my parents? Where was your God when I was shuffled from home to home?”

  She paused and took a deep breath. For the first time in as far back as she could remember, tears welled.

  “And where were you and your God when my supposed father in the last foster home put his hands on me like no father ever should?”

  She was tired, angry and mentally exhausted with the events of the last day. Otherwise, what the hell else could explain her opening her mouth and sharing such an intimate thing with a relative stranger?

  Lexi barely suppressed a shudder at the memory. Her last foster father, Tom, hadn’t seemed to fit any profile of a child abuser. With no previous history of abuse in his own childhood, a gentle manner, no issues with drug or alcohol abuse, clean cut, a pristinely maintained yard and home, he appeared to be anything but a vile abuser.

  It was only later did Lexi find out just how much of an abuser he was. Certainly, she would have found out if she had stayed around long enough for him to finish what he’d begun.

  She still remembered the stark terror of being pushed against the wall of her bedroom while Tom groped and grabbed at her clothing. The smell of fresh paint from her foster mom’s remodel of the kitchen, the feel of the stucco on her backside.

  Slightly damp, cold hands that left behind an unclean feeling, one she’d never be free of.

  Lexi felt fortunate in that she had been strong and independent even at the age of twelve. One unfatherly touch from Tom, and she bolted from the house.

  Looking up at Mikos, she realized that in her anger, she’d come within inches of his body. Major personal zone violation. Silver painted eyes looked down at her awash with an emotion she didn’t want or need.

  She shoved him again. “Don’t you dare pity me. And don’t you dare tell me what God expects. I stopped caring about those expectations a long time ago.”

  Maybe the thought of shoving him a third time had crossed her mind and shined in her eyes because Mikos moved. His hands come up to grab her wrists, jerking her forward and locking her arms against her sides. For the second time, her sanjiegun fell to the floor with another sharp clatter. Damn it, she was going to get a strap on that thing.

  She pulled her knee up then thrust downward. Because of Mikos’s tight meld to her body, she couldn’t get enough momentum to do anything more than tap his foot. A hard tap, yet still not enough to break free.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  This close, his whisper danced across her neck. She sucked in a whistling breath as unfamiliar sensations rocketed through her body. When was the last time she’d felt any, even the most microscopic, attraction to a man? Each time she was around this man her libido went supernova.

  Mikos’s body seemed to fit hers like a comfortable chair, one she wanted to sink back into then lose herself in the firm cushions. She inhaled, the warm, musky scent of masculine perspiration filling her nose. Did his skin taste salty? She eyed the pulse beating in his neck.

  An inward yelp echoed through her mind. What the hell was wrong with her?

  She let her shoulders relax as if she’d given up. He stilled. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to concede. Good. His stillness should have let her focus on breaking free.

  It didn’t.

  Not when she intimately felt each press of his taut muscles. And other things moved against her body. Like a migraine, a memory crashed in on her and another emotion lifted its ugly head. She tensed, every muscle stiffening in rising fear.

  Mikos was nothing like Tom yet creepy crawlies slid through her body leaving behind a huge block of ice dead center of her chest. Her heart thumped once then galloped into a fast beat. The memory of Tom’s lustful, narrow eyes and his slack, wet lips hit her mind like a mallet. She couldn’t breathe.

  With an inarticulate cry of terror and anger, she hooked her left foot behind Mikos’s knee and pulled. Unprepared, his knee collapsed, and he staggered backward, releasing her wrists.

  Before he could recover, she bent down and swept up her sanjiegun in one quick movement. Holding the staff with both hands, she swiped behind his knees, knocking his feet from under him. Taken by surprise, he fell backwards, his ass hitting first, the rest of him crashing to the mats a millisecond later.

  She followed her advantage by pressing forward with her rod, flattening his back against the floor. Holding the blunted point of the staff on Mikos’s chest, she glared at him, her chest heaving.

  Mikos’s silver eyes glowed, and with a wave of his hand, he knocked the stick away from his chest and out of her hands.

  “Damn it,” Lexi snarled then leaped for the staff. Grabbing it, she whirled around. Mikos was on his feet, his own hands holding another staff.

  “You wish to spar?” A challenge glinted in the sparking gaze. One corner of his lips quirked. Arrogance tensed every line of his bo
dy.

  “Damn right I do.”

  She was angry, but not angry enough to forget her training. She would attack, but not in rage. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her anger down until it sat in her center. Still there ready to be drawn on, but controlled.

  “Ote yawaraka ni.”

  “I don’t think so.” Lexi flipped the staff with her left hand and struck at Mikos’s left leg. “I’m in no mood to be gentle.”

  Before the blow connected, Mikos’s own stick hit Lexi’s with a loud metallic ring. Despite expecting it, the force reverberated through the steel, slamming into Lexi’s fingers.

  Ignoring the tingle, she spun and thrust at his mid section. He bent forward, narrowly avoiding her strike and countered with a swipe at her feet.

  She pulled back, imagining she could feel the rush of the stick’s passing. Her backward motion continued as she flipped then landed on her feet. Senses screamed a warning, and she jerked to the right just as Mikos’s staff passed by her side.

  Holy moly, he was good.

  Before she could spin around, Mikos’s staff was across her chest. He jerked her back. Her breath left in a whoosh as her back struck his hard chest. Warm air brushed her neck. Lexi froze. Impossible. He couldn’t have moved that fast.

  “You’re good, but I’m much better.” The whisper danced across the small hairs on her neck. A hint of sandalwood teased her senses.

  Shit! If she tried to break away, she’d only tire herself out. That didn’t mean she had no options. Ignoring the feel of his body and his heady scent was the first step.

  She dropped her weight down and forward almost until she was on her knees. Mikos’s stick slipped and she slid down and out from under. Rolling to the side, she surged to her feet. Before he could move, she punched both heels of her palms at his chest. Right before she connected, he blinked from view. Just like Rocky.

  A slight sound from behind her. Lexi whirled only to see Mikos materialize. “Sonofabitch. What the hell are you?”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. When he opened them, silver completely covered the gray. “I’m an angel.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark;

  the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”

  Plato

  Lexi burst into laughter.

  Mikos frowned. He’d anticipated awe. Perhaps more than a little fear. Definitely disbelief. But, once again, the contrary mortal defied his expectations.

  Her laugh, rich and rolling, contained pure joy. Pleasure changed her face, softened it, smoothed away lines and where before she was exotically sensual, she was now breathtaking. The sound of her laugh sang through his body, leaving behind a betraying tightening of his loins.

  Wresting sanity from its downhill slide, Mikos took a quick step back before he did something regrettable. Like press his lips to hers. Feel the joy of her laugh against his mouth and the warmth of her skin against his own.

  Beatus Deus. Continuing to curse under his breath, Mikos seized control over his wayward body. Despite his anger and apprehension over his body’s reaction, he could not turn away from her delight. And despite being disconcerted by her response, he experienced a rush of gratitude.

  Terror no longer spiraled from her pores, no longer filled his nostrils with the bitter stench of past horrors. Had their grappling triggered an emotional response leftover from her childhood? The levels of human against human suffering knew no bounds. A young girl, showing the promise of sexuality, would be delectable fodder for a predator of both human and demon kind.

  Amusement slipped from her face. “An angel,” she repeated in a tone dripping with skepticism. Mikos wanted the joy back with a hunger that surprised him.

  “Of course you are.” She paused. “I don’t believe in angels.”

  His riotous emotions back under control, Mikos sighed. He’d expected no less from her. “Indeed. Your belief or non-belief doesn’t change the fact I’m an angel.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Pardon?”

  Lexi waved a hand. “If you’re an angel, prove it. Do something. A miracle.”

  “I’m not that kind of angel.”

  “What does that mean? You’re either an angel or you’re not.”

  “Come,” Mikos said. After laying his staff on the table, he walked away.

  Lexi blew out a breath in frustration. Clearly, he expected her to follow. Well, okay, she had to admit to being curious to see how he planned to explain his latest example of madness. Should be fascinating.

  Snatching her sanjiegun from the floor, Lexi hastened after him and tracked him back into the room where she’d first stepped into The Twilight Zone. Nothing had changed. Everything was in the same place she’d left, sans Rocky who was supposedly off reporting to Michael.

  Lexi came to a quick stop. Good grief. Michael? As in the Archangel Michael? As in Prince-of-Light-protector-of-mankind Michael? She may not believe in angels but she’d heard of the archangels. Especially the main ones—Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel. And Michael.

  She shook her head. Great. She was getting sucked into Mikos’s delusion. With each outlandish claim and bizarre revelation, she inched farther into crazy.

  With a sigh, she focused on Mikos. He stood in front of a curio-like cabinet, his back toward her as he scanned the ancient-looking books. He closed the glass door, then turned to face her.

  In his hands, he held a book she could tell at first glance was old despite the beautiful, deep tan cover etched in raised bands of gold gilt lettering. Lexi crossed the room.

  “Read.” He offered the book to her. “It’s the closest representation of the story a mortal can comprehend. Rather well done, in fact.”

  Reluctantly, she took the archaic book. She ran her fingers over the title. Paradife loft. A Poem in Ten Books by John Milton. “I know this. It’s a book of poems.”

  “Yes.”

  “This is about Lucifer and fallen angels, isn’t it?” Lexi felt her lips twitch at the surprised look on his face. “I’m not stupid, Mikos. Just because I don’t believe in angels or God, doesn’t mean I haven’t heard the stories.”

  Paradise Lost, as it was more commonly known, depicted the war between angels. The angels still under God’s favor and the ones cast out. Or fallen. Lexi had been curious about the tale but after finding out it was in the form of a poem, she’d passed on reading. Give her straight sentences—poems were full of cryptic phrases and strange word partnerships she just couldn’t decipher.

  She glanced down at the book. “I’ve definitely heard of this.” Holding it up in front of her, she questioned, “You think this will make me believe?”

  “I’d never be so foolish.” One corner of his lips lifted.

  Cute. Gave him a rakish air. And made him seem more human. Which he was not, if she were to believe his odd assertion.

  “Then why should I bother?”

  “Lexi, whether or not you believe is immaterial. Obviously, it would be better if you did, but your non-belief does not change the facts.” Mikos inclined his head at the book in her hand.

  “Fine.” Her brow furrowed. “How does this prove you’re an angel?”

  Mikos frowned. “What kind of proof do you require?” He held up a hand. “Other than a miracle.”

  “You were in the club, weren’t you?” She waited until he nodded. “If you’re an angel, show me your wings.”

  His frown deepened. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Look, I’m a literal gal. I deal in reality, what I can see, touch and smell. I certainly don’t take the word of someone I hardly know. If you want me to accept you’re an angel, prove it.”

  “Saving your life isn’t enough proof?”

  Oh, that.

  “How do I know I was actually dead?” Lexi ignored the niggling of conscience that scoffed at her comment. She knew she had been dead.

  All current evidence showing otherwise, she’d felt herself die. Th
at knowledge didn’t stop her. She wanted something from him. Something she could believe in. Something solid. She cringed inwardly at the unintended double entendre. Ignoring her mental slip, she lifted her chin and met Mikos’s gaze squarely.

  His deliberate stare held her eyes. The intense focus gave her the feeling he was peering into the depths behind her eyes to discover what she wanted most.

  Good luck with that. She didn’t even know what that might be.

  “Very well,” he said. An eyebrow lifted. “But I require something from you. I will give you your proof, and in return, you will remain here and be trained. And attempt to regain your knowledge of the location of the Key. Time is running out, and I have no more patience for games.”

  “You want me to stay here? With you?” Lexi snorted. “Sure, like I’d believe we’d only be training.”

  Especially after she melted into goo whenever he got near. Hell, she wasn’t worried about him. The over-the-top reactions of her own body scared the shit out of her. She feared that if he started with her, she wouldn’t let him stop. And the last thing she needed was a relationship with him. Purely sexual or otherwise.

  “I have no need for anything from you other than your commitment to training,” he said. “And your faith.”

  “Well, I could give you a commitment for training, but as for my faith—that ship sailed a long time ago.”

  Mikos nodded. “Fine. Your commitment to training is sufficient. In time, your faith will come.”

  “Sure. Believe what you will.”

  “Are we agreed then? I will provide proof. You will remain here for training.”

  Crap, where was her head? She acted as if all he had to do was give her proof and she’d believe anything he had to say. Was it really that simple?

  “I want one more thing,” she blurted then slapped a hand over her mouth. Where had that come from?

  Mikos frowned but nodded.

  “I want you to help me find Devyn.” Big Joe and his dire predictions of the human race perishing if she continued to look for Devyn aside, Lexi knew she couldn’t simply go on with life and not know what happened to the young girl.

 

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