The God Game: Evangeline Heart Book 2 (Evangeline Heart Adventures)

by A. K. Alexander

  “Like what?” I pulled a notepad from my purse and clicked my pen. There was a connection in the details, I just had to find it and use the clues to track us back to the man who’d hired the hit.

  He shrugged and turned on the radio, keeping the pop station low in the background. The bass thrummed through the floorboards and made my feet tremble. “Relics, mostly. The first one was an alabaster jar, then a trio of medallions, a single painting—tiny, though. I palmed it and walked out without a single person blinking.”

  I shook my head. Seriously, his cockiness knew no bounds. He was undeniably good, though. And I’d stuffed our last piece in my bra, so I couldn’t exactly chide him for being discreet. The only things that ever mattered was completing the mission and staying alive. So far, we’d succeeded with those two. “What else?”

  “More of the same. You don’t really think you’re going to be able to find him through those, are you? He had me fence half of them and he had private buyers for the rest.”

  I turned and stared at him, wondering how he could stay so nonchalant and trusting. Our close calls hadn’t rattled him in the least and he was still convinced that he wasn’t in any danger. “How sure are you of that? Maybe he just told you about the private buyers and he used some of these pieces to misdirect you.” I grunted. “He obviously has no problem lying to you. Or trying to kill you.”

  We’d both nearly been killed on Clay’s last mission. He’d called me in to help him and we’d been attacked in the middle of boosting what was supposed to be a fifteen-million-dollar painting.

  “Yeah, but that’s why I think you’re wasting time on this. If he’d have wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

  “You’re a fool to dismiss the hit.”

  He glanced over at me, a wide sure grin showing his teeth. “I’m not you, babe. I don’t live and die at the end of a gun. If he kills me, who’s going to get him his next bauble?”

  “There are plenty of thieves out there.” I closed my notebook and leaned back in the seat. “I realize you think you’re the best, but there are more than a few people who are nearly as good as you.” I turned toward the window. “And probably half the pain.”

  “I heard that.” He turned up the radio and we moved through traffic to the turnoff to the airport, passing the public entry for the private one that I used. For a guy who’d been rattled by my unlimited access to Learjets, he’d come around fast.

  Security waved us through and he parked along the tall chain-link fence reserved for the few vehicles that stayed on the property. Most of the fliers out of here used private cars and I could have done that today, but he’d wanted to drive. Maybe he was more worried than he wanted to let on and was didn’t want anyone tampering with his car. No chance of that happening in here with the level of security surrounding this airstrip and the guests using it.

  We got out and walked to the jet, door open and waiting for us. Inside, I bugged him about it again. “Before we do anything, we need to eliminate that threat.”

  Clay made a face. “I’m sure he was just sending a message.”

  I blinked. Hits were the world I came from, and in it, people didn’t hire assassins as messages. They did it to take care of a problem. In all my years in the business, I’d never heard of someone going to all the trouble of hiring a kill, just to pull it at the last minute in favor for a glancing blow.

  Clay’d been lucky to survive the lousy shot, and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been there to save him by killing the shooter before he could finish the job. I had a hard time believing that was the end of it. “Humor me. Tell me about every interaction you’ve had with this buyer so I can figure out who this is and identify the real threat. This is bigger than you screwing up the heist. Has there ever been anything out of the ordinary on any of your deals?”

  He reclined the leather seat and propped his hands behind his head. “You mean other than the time that guy pulled a gun and shot me?”

  I rolled my eyes and took the seat next to him. “Was there anything else about that heist that stood out?”

  He was silent long enough that I thought he’d fallen asleep, then one eyelid popped open, blue eye staring intently at me. “He called me.”

  I leaned closer. “Okay. That’s something. Do you remember anything about the call? Had he ever done that before?”

  He sat up and shook his head, then ran a hand through his blond curls. “No. Like I said, we always dealt through the secure site. I didn’t even know how he got my number.”

  “And you seriously didn’t see anything wrong with that?” I threw up my hands, then dug around for my notebook to add the detail to my list. An anomaly like that would have sent up no fewer than a dozen red flags for me. But Clay had already proved that I was a lot more suspicious and cautious than he’d ever be. Where I saw nothing but issues and problems, Clay only saw opportunities and challenges. In this, as in everything else, we were day and night.

  Chapter Four

  Though I wanted to dig deeper and ask him more rounds of questions, I relented. I figured that my subconscious would come up with a link, or a detail I’d missed that could help us. I still hated leaving the loose end, but I knew better than to chase a path without a map. I needed concrete links to get me solid on the identity of Clay’s buyer, and we weren’t there yet. Not knowing would bug me until we figured it out.

  “You watch your video yet?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I thought you wanted to watch it with me.”

  “I do, but we haven’t talked about it since that night.”

  It was true. I’d ignored everything about the video, my mom’s death, the man who’d told me that I’d been manipulated by the events in the video. I hadn’t wanted to know the truth, fearful that it would be as bad as I’d imagined.

  “Come on.” He slid open the cabinet concealing the TV and grabbed the remote, then returned to his chair, patting the one beside him. “Put it in and let’s do this thing.”

  I crossed my arms and stared at the snow on the screen, then stiffened my back and dug the DVD from my purse. I’d packed it for the trip knowing that I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

  “What am I looking for?” Clay asked as I put the DVD in the player and sat on the edge of the chair beside him.

  I shook my head. “Honestly … I’m not sure. Just watch and tell me what you see.”

  His gaze met mine and held. No joking, no teasing. For a moment, I felt like he could hear my thoughts and the pounding of my heart. I was terrified of what he’d see during my mom’s death that I was blind to.

  I appreciated not only his willingness to go through this with me, but the intensity and lack of humor he was willing to give to it. When he needed to be, he was a great guy, and a strong partner … which was why I was so conflicted when my thoughts about him strayed into a simplistic physical need that cheapened what we had together. I liked working with him and didn’t want either of us to screw that up.

  He rested his hand on the middle of my back. “Are you okay?”

  “Play it.” I squeezed my fingers tightly on my lap and concentrated on seeing the facts, not being swayed by the emotion of what I knew was coming.

  The image switched to that night in Jordan—flames, chaos, death. Clay muttered curses and tensed beside me as the video rolled on filling the entire cabin with screams and the lick of flames. I watched it with a removed heart, even as my mother faced off against Harrold. My thoughts swayed as I realized how little Azazel’s man hadn’t changed from the image on the screen to when he’d appeared in my apartment after we’d stolen the relic. He and I had fought, but Clay had pulled me off him before I’d killed him—and I still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing.

  “Come work for us,” he’d said, as if Azazel was any other boss extending a job offer. Then he’d told me that they’d offered the same thing to my mother, an offer of protection, of help. Had they offered it to her on this night, when the screen had gone
blank? Or before tonight? Harrold said he hadn’t killed her and that’s the detail I needed to see—needed Clay to see so I could stop losing my mind over who to trust. Azazel didn’t want my mother dead, Harrold had said. He’d needed her alive, to use her special gifts to find the relics. But if that was true, then who’d killed her?

  The video finished and we sat in stark silence, only the air against the fuselage tormenting our ears now that the screams had subsided. “What do you think?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  Clay slowly set the remote on the small table in front of our chairs, then turned to me, the horrors and destruction mapped across his features. His leaned over and put an arm around my shoulder, then covered my fisted hands, pressing his lips to my temple and hugging me for a moment. I shuddered and he pulled back. “That was your mother then, the woman?”

  I nodded. She’d been beautiful and strong and so very courageous as she’d stood in defiance of Harrold. So different than the striking, fighting beast he’d reduced me to.

  “There’s one thing that’s really bugging me,” Clay said. “Harrold asked her for the relic, and she refused. If Azazel wanted her to work for him, why not remind her of the offer then? Why not promise her immortality as the village burned around her? Why not offer to save her family, her friends, her own life?”

  He made a good point. “Mom never would have parted with a historical artifact, though. Not for anyone. She believed that they belonged to the people, to the public, catalogued and on display somewhere commemorating the history of those who’d created, honored, and sacrificed for the piece—and not just the important pieces, but every piece. Maybe they’d already been through this and she’d refused before this night and they thought this would be the ticket to bringing her around.”

  “Maybe. Little more difficult to know what they’d offered her then, if she wasn’t the kind of person to react like most of us.”

  “Even immortality wouldn’t have swayed her beliefs. She was passionate about preserving history and clearly Azazel wanted it for his own means. She didn’t agree with that … ever.”

  Clay ran his fingertips across his mouth, deep in thought. “I think that’s the crux of it, though, isn’t it? No matter what Azazel was offering, he’s not after these relics for good reasons. Even if he wanted to keep your Mom alive, it was only for his own gain. That makes him a bad guy in my book.”

  “Yeah.” I sat back and sighed. “Mine too. I can’t trust anything he or his minions say, and all he’s done with this is distract us from what matters.”

  He reached over and set his palm on my knee. “We’re going to set this right for all of them. We’ll get Griffin’s soul where it belongs, up there with your mom and dad.”

  Tears stung my eyes and I nodded. “Thanks. I need that. I don’t know who we can trust and what information hasn’t been corrupted by someone’s agenda.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can trust me and we’ll figure it out together. We’ll get the other two relics and we’ll find the gate, storm in there, and get him.” His voice softened. “We will.”

  I put my hand over his and held it there in solidarity.

  Chapter Five

  After grabbing a few hours of sleep, we landed in Chelsea to an awaiting Range Rover that I let Clay drive over to Ralph’s. Thankfully, they didn’t keep to regular hours, so our 3 a.m. arrival wasn’t as much of an interruption as it would have been to others. We hurried up the steps and Anna opened the door before we could knock. Her silver hair was in its usual bun and she had reading glasses on a chain around her neck. Today her attire was a casual gray sweater paired with a burgundy skirt. We’d probably interrupted a quiet day at home when she finally had a moment to herself. But if she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. “Welcome, welcome. I should get the two of you your own key.”

  Clay followed me in. “We are here a lot, aren’t we?”

  She tipped her cheek up for a kiss from him. “A pleasure, as always.”

  The thump of a cane across hardwood turned me toward Ralph’s study, where the portly professor appeared, white hair shocked around his ears and the back of his head. “Oh lovely! I was so hoping to see you today.”

  I smiled and gave him a hug, not bothering to remind him that I’d called yesterday to let him know that we were on our way. We’d learned to roll with the holes in Ralph’s memory and so far he hadn’t forgotten anything that had put us in danger. I needed that to hold out for a little longer.

  “Does that mean you have information for us?” Clay asked, reaching over my head to shake Ralph’s hand as I stepped back.

  “Of course, of course. Shall I tell you over a cup of Earl Grey?”

  In the kitchen, Anna already had tea heating and she brought a tray of biscuits and cookies to the table. I was surprised that they’d managed to keep it tidy since we’d been here at Christmas. Ralph was a hoarder of the extreme kind, and while I understood his need to not get rid of any of his important documents and papers, it made things incredibly difficult when we were trying to find pieces I needed for this journey. He probably had millions in undocumented relics stashed all over this house in crannies and buried beneath boxes of papers, but so far we’d only been able to unearth a few. I hoped this next relic wasn’t in his house anywhere.

  Clay sat on the far side of the table and I took the seat between him and Ralph, grabbing a tiny shortbread cookie. “Okay, Metatron confirmed that we’re starting in Athens, and you’ve said we’re after Peter’s sword from the garden. Is that it?”

  Ralph laughed and patted my hand. “Hardly, dear. But I do find your enthusiasm adorable. First, let me tell you the story of the sword.”

  Clay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and grinning. He loved Ralph’s stories and they’d become fast friends while we’d been here. I didn’t know anything about Clay’s relationship with his dad, only that things weren’t great with his mom’s health, but now I wondered if Ralph reminded him of his dad—or the one he’d wished he’d had. These were things that I didn’t need to know about a partner with whom I had only had a working relationship, but I couldn’t help wondering about this man and the idiosyncrasies of who he was.

  Anna poured milk into Ralph’s cup, then the hot tea, and I did the same to my own. He took the delicate china and sipped it. “I’ve already told you that all the apostles were armed the night that Judas betrayed his Teacher, but Peter was the only one with a sword. When the soldiers arrived, Peter attacked, cutting off the ear of one man, Malchus—a servant of the high priest—and was quickly reprimanded by Jesus.” He waved his hand and set down the tea. “Jesus was taken away, Judas turned in the silver, overcome with guilt then hanged himself, but Peter…” He looked from Clay to me. “Peter couldn’t desert Jesus. He followed as they marched Him to court. Which, incidentally is where Peter denied Christ three times.”

  “Did he have the sword on him?” Clay asked, eating two shortbreads stacked together.

  “Those are details I’ve been researching. What I’ve told you is what was included in the canon, but what will aid us is the rest of the story.”

  “Like the rock.”

  He nodded. “Right. The handling of the weapons and where they went obviously didn’t matter to anyone trying to learn about Christ and what occurred in the days before His crucifixion. But they matter to us a great deal.”

  I folded my hands and leaned forward, surprisingly nervous about this next relic—something I was damn sure going to pay attention to this time after ignoring my intention too many times along the way. I had to be on constant alert. My gaze flickered to Clay, oblivious of everything beyond Ralph and this room. Ignorance really was bliss. But this time, his denial of the threat was going to kill him … and maybe take out the rest of us in the process. I had to be on top of every detail and every niggling of discomfort for both of us.

  “After the reprimand, Peter sheathed the sword, but the soldiers disarmed everyone before taking Jesus, fearful of a retal
iation at their backs as they departed.”

  “Smart,” Clay said, standing and pouring himself a glass of milk from the fridge. Anna had left us, but was probably still close at hand in case Ralph needed anything. Clay came back to the table, pausing at the back window to survey the yard. Maybe he wasn’t as confident about his safety as he pretended.

  “The Romans weren’t fools enough to leave a viable weapon, so they absorbed the sword into their own armory.”

  I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Let me guess, now we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.” I lifted my head. “There were another five hundred years of battles for Rome. It could have traded hands dozens of times. Hell, it could have ended up beyond Hadrian’s Wall or in Asia after Attila’s push…”

  Ralph grinned and patted my hand. “Well done, girl. Took me a good two days to get there. That’s precisely what occurred. This sword isn’t a typical one and as it changed hands, its special properties didn’t go unnoticed, though it didn’t respond the same to everyone. It did make its way into Asia, but as Alexander moved back toward Greece for his own reign, so the sword came with him.”

  “Which is why we’re going to Athens.”

  Ralph leaned back in his chair, chest puffed out. “Exactly.”

  “Another museum?” Clay asked, his wariness quickly turning to eagerness at the mere thought of a heist.

  “Not this time.” He looked to me. “This time you’ll be relying on the skills you learned with your mother. This time you’ll meet up with an archeological team. Metatron believes they’ll unearth the relic within a week’s time.”

  “A week?” I didn’t need any more delays. I wanted to hurry this process along, get Griffin’s soul back, and finally be able to move the rest of my life forward. I needed to heal, and this journey was bringing up so many memories of him and making it hard to grieve him, knowing I was going to encounter some version of him when we finally made it to Hell, and probably not the one I’d loved and agreed to spend the rest of my life with. I couldn’t keep putting off the dreaded meeting, but I seemed to be the only one in a hurry.