She wore the same pair of jeans she’d had on the day she died, including some kind of blousy top with ruffled edges of pale yellow. He remembered thinking how striking the color was against her sun-kissed skin and richly hued hair.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said and dropped her gaze. Her tone had lost its sharp edge, now sounding sad. “Maybe I was in denial.” She looked up. “Or maybe you are as full of shit now as you were back then. Was there anything you ever said that was true? Or was it all a lie?”
He stiffened, feeling his face tighten at the blow. “Truth is a relative term, Kat. You should know that.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”
“If you think hard enough, you’ll figure it out.”
Kat sucked in a deep breath. Had he known? All this time, she’d thought her secret had been a secret even from him. Was still a secret. Her gaze probed his. Did he know? Or was he guessing? If he did, why had he waited until now to bring it up? If ghosts could sweat, she had a feeling she’d be dripping in moisture.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
A smile twisted his lips. Lips that she’d once touched. Tasted. Lips that had pressed against every surface of her body. “Keep your secrets, Kat. We all have them.” His gaze narrowed. “Why are you here?”
“I should ask you that question.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Beliel.”
Lines formed between his brows. “That is dangerous, Kat. You may be a ghost but you can be harmed.”
“I know that. He doesn’t know I’m watching.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She opened her mouth to answer then snapped it shut. Her head tilted as she contemplated his warning. “You didn’t know I was around until I showed you myself.”
“True, but then I wasn’t looking for anyone. Beliel is not as trustworthy.”
Unable to resist, she snorted then said, “What would you know of trust?”
Did he just flinch? No, that was impossible. Lucifer’s Slayer didn’t feel hurt or shame.
“I know Beliel. He’s dangerous—much worse than Lucifer. He’s like a cobra. He’ll strike you when you least expect it.”
She shrugged. “I can take care of myself. And I’m a ghost. What more could he do? As you know, I’ve already been killed once.” She couldn’t have stopped the bitterness from leaking into her tone had she wanted to.
“There are worse things.” A shimmer settled over his body, signaling he was about to disappear. Just before he faded, he said, “I’ve missed you, Kitty Kat.”
Mouth open, she stared at the space Asher had occupied, his last words ringing in her ears and twisting around her heart. All her anger fled, swept away by the tender tone. If she’d been alive, she would have fallen to her knees. As it was, she lost her hold on her ability to keep her shape solid and drifted into a misty shadow.
Kat’s shoulders fell forward. She never should have followed Ash here. Had known it was a big mistake the minute she’d sensed his passing through Between with Beliel. Figuring she might be able to let Lexi and Mikos know what the bastard was up to, she’d stayed hidden, observing their interactions with the two women. Then she’d watched him with the younger woman—the daughter. Catherine. Her own name, but with a C.
Kat turned and looked at the window where the other woman rested. She’d seen the interest in Ash’s eyes as he’d talked with her. It had caused something to twist within her. When he hurt Catherine with his words, Kat felt them strike her as if he’d said them to her. Hurt her enough that she’d materialized, giving away her presence.
The curtains stirred and Kat flinched before she remembered the other woman couldn’t see her. Was she looking for Ash? She’d seen the same interest glinting in the woman’s icy-blue eyes when she’d been with him. Could Kat handle seeing him with another? For the first time since she’d accepted her death, she wished she was still human.
You’re a fool, Katherine Ferchaud. You want to be alive just so you can be with Ash again. After what he did to you, you still want him.
“Not foolish, Katherine. Hopeful.” Michael, Prince of Heavens and right hand of God, materialized as he spoke. “The wanting of another is not foolish.”
“Even for a demon?”
“Especially for a demon.”
Kat searched the Archangel’s serene expression looking for…something. She wasn’t sure what. Some sense that Ash could be redeemed? Hope? Or that she could find what she had with him? Before he killed you.
The Archangel gave nothing away. Despite the fact he could read her mind, so would surely know what she was thinking, he said nothing to give her solace. She pressed her lips together and pulled her shoulders back.
“What is it to me if Ash can be redeemed?” The anger in her voice tightened her nerves but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling from her lips. She swept her hand down her wavering form. “I’m a ghost. I cannot touch anyone. Be with anyone. He would be better served to find redemption somewhere else.”
Even as she spoke, her gaze flicked to the window, her heart twitching as if denying what she’d said.
“Redemption is the Slayer’s choice. Should he want it, he will find it where, and with whom, he must.” Michael’s mouth turned down.
Her brows rose at his new expression. When he didn’t elaborate, she finished his unspoken words. “Even if it is not with me. Right?”
He smiled, the edges tainted with sadness. “Do not lose faith, Katherine. Sunlight can find the way through the thickest cloud cover and redemption can be found in the unlikeliest of places, and through the unlikeliest of souls.”
He touched her shoulder. Kat gasped, the warm, comforting caress sending a pang of loss through her along with the remembrance of what it felt like to be human. He smiled again, this time the curve of his lips was full and genuine. “Be strong.”
With that, he disappeared.
Kat stared at the spot he’d stood for what felt like hours but was, in likelihood, only a few minutes. She blinked then touched her fingertips to the corners of her eyes, as the moisture from her tears coated her skin. Since she’d become a ghost, she’d been unable to be touched by another—human or other. She’d given up hope she’d ever have comfort. Until Michael’s simple caress.
Her arm rose, almost of its own volition, her fingers clasping the spot as she tried to hold in the comfort of his contact. As the heat slowly faded, she wanted to call Michael back. To scream at him until he told her what was going on. Or to hold her until his embrace was imprinted on her flesh.
The door to the mansion opened and the woman, Lillian, came out followed by Beliel. Kat gasped again as his gaze fell upon her. Could he see her? Surely not. She’d been so good at hiding herself. While the other woman prattled in his ears, his gaze remained locked on where Kat stood. Then, to her horror, he smiled.
She shuddered at the malice in his blue gaze. Lost in herself, the woman didn’t notice the red gleaming in his eyes or the beginning hint of sharp teeth peeking from between his lips.
Beliel nodded at Kat. She sucked in a breath and completely lost her hold on her form. As she disappeared, he said, “I will see you again, lovely little spy.”
The promise in his words slithered up her spine. God in Heaven, she’d made a big mistake in following him.
Chapter Nine
“No, I will absolutely not.”
Mari placed her hands on her hips and glared at Jackson. At this moment, she’d have cheerfully watched the human burn to ash without blinking.
“Come on, darlin’. It’s not that big of a deal. Easy in, easy out. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”
Despite his light tone, she caught the exasperation underneath the cheerfulness. They’d been arguing for the last ten minutes, ever since he showed her his plan to get them into the Iraqi’s compound with no notice or record of their arrival.
Once they’d apported into Iraq, Jackson had first sent a man he knew fro
m his contacts to the warlord to see if he could get him to sell the skull. The warlord refused, but hadn’t left it at a simple refusal. He’d cut off Jackson’s contact’s head and placed it outside as a warning. It was only when Mari and Jackson spoke to a worker from the compound that they’d learned a beautiful American soap-opera star had convinced the warlord to let her visit and that she wanted the skull too.
That had to be Beliel’s work. As she’d learned when she tried to apport inside, the compound had some kind of unbreakable protection over the warlord’s place. She could do nothing.
Which meant she had to go in with Jackson as the humans did. As Jackson would say, it chapped her hide that she was being forced to again obey Michael about this issue. This is why she was staring at a tiny helicopter with thin blades and a glass-like bubble for passengers.
“Where’s the badass that stares down a horde of fire-tossing demons without blinking?”
“She’s not getting on that damn crate with wings, is where she is,” Mari snarled.
“It’s the only way in.”
“Why can’t we take a vehicle?”
“They expect infiltration from the ground. He won’t expect it from the air.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. How do we get from the air into the compound? Land?”
Jackson dropped his gaze, his cheeks pinking. His body language screamed he was hiding something from her. Or reluctant to give her news she wouldn’t like.
“Human, what are you not telling me?”
“Well, I wasn’t fixin’ on landing the bird.”
“Of course, you have to land it. How else are we to…” Her words trailed off and she stared hard at him. “Jackson, please tell me you were not planning on waiting until you got me into the air before telling me I’d have to jump out of the helicopter?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” he drawled, then his gaze swung up to meet hers. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was plannin’.”
She jerked her head back. Her fingers twitched with the need to set something on fire and her gaze narrowed on the infuriating human standing before her.
He held up his hands. “Now, now, darlin’. Let’s not fight in front of the children,” he said, and waved his fingers at the other humans standing between her and the helicopter.
Mari gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into tight fists. She had hated flying in the large plane and he now expected her to fly in a tiny helicopter, then jump out of it?
“We need to find another way in.”
He shook his head. “There isn’t one. This is it.”
She stared at the helicopter, looked back at him, then at the helicopter again. Indecision crawled up her spine. No, she couldn’t do it.
“Marisol, you’ll be fine, I promise.”
Her gaze flew back to his. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Truth was, it did. The solid confidence in his tone mixed with the feeling she would be safe under his supervision convinced her more than she wanted to admit. He didn’t respond. With an ease she envied, he leaned against the fuel truck while obviously waiting for her to decide whether she could trust him.
After pushing out a sigh, she nodded. “Very well. We will do this.”
Jackson rubbed his hands together. “Well now, that is just fine. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
A realization occurred to her. “Wait. If we have to jump to get in, how do we get out with the skull?”
The wide grin that split his face, combined with the gleam of laughter in his eyes, was the charming, fun-loving human she’d seen over the past six months. Any lingering darkness from the death of the human female had faded.
“That’s the fun part. My buddies will take care of that, don’t you worry.” He turned and gestured at the three silent men standing in a semicircle off to the side.
All three wore dark clothing and mirrored glasses covered their eyes. None were supernatural but she caught some otherworld sense. Something she had noted about Jackson at times. A uniqueness.
The man standing in the middle jerked his head in a brief nod and all three pivoted and left the tarmac. Jackson went over to the pilot and the other human, who sat at the big gun mounted inside the compartment.
Mari stared at the helicopter. What, by the Black Waters of the Styx, was she doing getting into that contraption and then jumping out of it? Damn Michael and his insistence that she travel as a human. Damn the human who surrounded his place with wards she couldn’t cross.
If she survived this, she better get a chance to burn something.
Lillian sipped from her glass of wine and smiled at the dark-haired man standing near the marble fireplace. “Thank you for letting me visit your home. It is truly lovely,” she purred and lifted the glass to him in salute.
“No, my dear. It is my pleasure to play host to such a talented lady. I am honored to have you in my humble home.”
She leaned back, resting her left arm over the rear of the pristine, white-leather couch. The careful arch of her spine, casual drape of her scarlet gown and cascade of curls flowing over her shoulders were all designed to showcase her assets in the best possible way. She could tell by his shining eyes and moist lips, he approved.
She stretched out a hand. “Come, my lord, sit beside me.”
The warlord, Katungi, came toward her, moving with a sinuous walk that reminded her of a panther she’d seen in the zoo. Using her feminine wiles to get her master’s prize would not be an unpleasant task.
Lillian patted the couch. Katungi sat and she shifted forward. “I’ve heard you possess a wonderful treasure. One that gives you power over your enemies.”
His nostrils flared. “How do you know this?”
She trailed a finger along his upper thigh. “People talk, Katungi, and I’ve made it my business to learn about you. I know you are powerful.” Her caress reached the top of his thigh. Muscles tensed under her touch. “I like powerful men.”
She took a deep breath, making sure her breasts rose with the action, and when his gaze dropped to the deep cleavage revealed by her latest, especially designed for her Vera Wang gown, she knew she’d succeeded in capturing his complete attention.
Men were so easy to sway with a woman’s body. They were like little boys with their faces pressed against the glass, drooling at all the candy displayed before them. She’d learned just how much candy to give until she got what she wanted. And while most men just needed a few pieces here and there, she had a suspicion born of experience this man would need more.
One of his hands came up and cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple. A jolt of pleasure tingled and she let a tiny moan escape her lips. A triumphant smile stretched across his face. Like a striking cobra, his head shot forward and he buried his face between her breasts, then licked and bit. She stroked the back of his head and pressed his neck closer with encouragement.
He slipped his hand inside her bodice. Cool air brushed across her damp skin, the chill causing her nipples to peak. His mouth closed over one nub and he sucked hard, hard enough to be painful. Hmm. So he liked things rough. A thrill shot through her. She’d not had many men who liked pain with their pleasure.
After a few seconds of his wet ministrations, she cupped his hot cheeks and pulled his face up. He growled and tried to force her away.
“Now, now, my lord,” she murmured. “I’d really like to hear about your treasure. Then we can discuss your other treasure.” She patted his crotch.
“There is nothing to discuss,” he said. His voice was thick, filled with lust and hunger.
She laughed. “Of course there is. I’ve heard it’s a crystal in the shape of a human skull and with it you have power over life and death. May I see it?”
Passion fled. In its place, guilt and embarrassment turned his dark skin into the color of toffee. She pushed away from him. “You still have it, don’t you?”
He would not meet her eyes. “It recently disappeared. I have been unable
to locate it.”
With exaggerated slow motion, she tucked her breast back inside her bodice and put more distance between them. His eyes narrowed. Scarlet moved from his chest into his cheeks as he saw his candy shop being closed.
“Who took it, Katungi?”
He surged to his feet. “I do not know.”
Uncertainty flooded her system, even though she was careful to keep her face expressionless. What was she to do now? Bill hadn’t told her what to do if Katungi did not have the skull.
The small hairs on her arms rose, goose bumps prickling her skin. Cold shivered through her, the sudden dip in the temperature in the room shocking after the heat of the last few days. Obviously, Katungi felt it as well because all lust fled his face, and he stiffened in alert.
Movement from the corner of her eye drew her gaze to the far wall. The air shimmered—an undulating wave, like looking through a clear pool of water. She got to her feet and backed away until she stood near him. Not that she expected him to protect her. More like she anticipated that whatever was happening would happen to him first.
A figure formed, first transparent, then filled in until a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and brilliant-blue eyes stood before them. The woman was naked, her porcelain skin polished with something that glistened under the lights. She wore a smile, perfect white teeth gleaming.
Envy washed over Lillian, made worse when Katungi sucked in a deep breath. The pungent aroma of sex filled the room, an overwhelming wash of scent turning the air thick with lust.
“Good evening. I hope I’m not disturbing anything.” The woman sauntered toward them, her hips swaying. “My name is Jahi and I’m here for the skull.”
Lillian lifted her chin. “The skull is not here. If it were, it would be mine.”
The woman, Jahi, looked at her. When the force of her blue gaze met Lillian’s, she almost staggered from the shock of lust that filled her body. She’d never been interested in being with a woman. One look from this woman, and suddenly Lillian wanted to know what it would be like to press her lips to the woman’s full, pink mouth, caress her smooth skin and kiss her body from toes to neck. Lillian panted, her breath taking form in the cool air.
The Death Skull: Relic Defender, Book 2 Page 10
