The Archangel Agenda (Evangeline Heart Book 1) Read online

  How. Dare. He.

  He fought me off as best he could without landing any blows. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t trying to kill me too. But I didn’t care. I’d fought men before who’d had an issue striking a woman—they always came around eventually. I drove a knee into his kidney and connected solidly with his jaw. Time stood still and I worshipped the pain as my knuckles connected over and over.

  “Hit me all you want.”

  I did and he grunted.

  “But that doesn’t change the truth.”

  Truth.

  My altar.

  The one he’d decimated with his lies. I got behind him and wrapped my arm around his throat, my knee planted solidly in his back. My fingers splayed across his forehead and I readied myself to snap his neck.

  A force crashed into me from behind. It trapped my arms and growled against my ear. “Don’t do this.”

  I squirmed and kicked and punched. Whoever was behind me lifted me off Harrold and drew me backward until my toes dangled inches above the floor. While I watched in horror, Harrold stood and brushed the front of his shirt like it only had a speck of lint instead of rivers of blood running down it. His left eye was already swollen but he pierced me with those green eyes while I flailed helplessly against this new attacker. I’d missed my chance. Missed my chance to avenge my mother. Fear and fury and hatred welled up inside me.

  I yelled in frustration and drove my heel backward, raking against a shin. The move earned a grunt in my ear, but no release. The hold tightened, angling my shoulder higher and grinding my bones together.

  “Think about what I said, Evangelina.” Harrold moved toward the front door. “You have two more relics to procure. As such, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

  Then he was gone.

  I roared and snapped my head back, connecting solidly with my attacker’s chin. Stars exploded in my head but his grip loosened just enough that I slipped free. With one swift motion I kicked up and backward, then spun and my foot connected solidly with his jaw.

  Clay’s jaw.

  He stumbled backward and I punched him, then raced toward my door, intent on getting Harrold.

  Clay grabbed me from behind and held me again. He growled against my ear. “Don’t do this. Don’t let him turn you into a mercenary.”

  I hated that word. Hated it worse than amateur. “Get the fuck off of me!”

  He held me tighter. “Let him go.”

  “You don’t know what he said!”

  “Going after him serves nothing. Killing him won’t bring your mom back. Won’t bring Griffin back.”

  I sagged against him and he loosened his hold but didn’t let me go. “We’ll get him.” His voice was gentle now. “When this is all over, we’ll get him, okay?”

  Clay was right, but I didn’t want to admit that I’d come within seconds of killing a man I hadn’t been hired to eliminate. A rage so pure and diseased had risen up in me that I’d been useless against it. Had Clay not shown up—

  I pushed away and turned, scowling. “How did you get in here?”

  He rubbed his jaw where I’d kicked, then punched him. “Thief,” he answered with a wise-ass tone then stomped into the kitchen and opened my freezer. While I tried to pull myself together, he dug around until he found what he wanted, then closed the door and settled a package of peas against his face.

  I scrubbed my face with both hands. “Why did you come back?”

  He pointed to my phone, lying half under the kitchen table. “You butt-dialed me, and I figured you were either having sex with your neighbor or they’d finally come for you.”

  I picked up the phone and sure enough, I’d been calling him for four minutes and thirty-two seconds. I hit the off button and tossed my phone on the table. Begrudgingly, I lifted my gaze to his and walked closer.

  “Thanks.”

  He shook the bag of peas. “Don’t mention it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We’d moved to the couch and I’d offered him a beer in thanks for keeping me on the right side of the truth. The outline of my boot was turning red on his cheek and I almost felt bad. I’d never been so conflicted. I had wanted to kill Harrold. I had wanted to feel the life seep from his body as he died at my hands in my own living room.

  There had only been a few missions that I’d enjoyed like that. One had been a child-molesting, sex-trafficking son of a bitch. I purposely missed my first shot, taking out his junk and letting him writhe around in agony for a full minute before I’d dropped the kill shot. Tonight I’d have gleefully tortured Harrold.

  And that bothered me. I didn’t want to be a cold-blooded murderer. I understood the sweet irony of that since I was a hired assassin, but taking money to kill someone was different than taking the truth in my own hands. Tonight I would have crossed a line that I’d promised never to cross. Harrold hadn’t been threatening me, not physically. Emotionally, yes, but I should have been able to handle his taunts...

  I shouldn’t have slipped to the dark side as thoroughly as I had.

  “You going to tell me what he said, or what?” He nudged my knee with his.

  I dug in the left side of my bra and took out the ring. Clay’s eyes widened until he figured out that I wasn’t propositioning him. He relaxed and shifted closer. “Why didn’t he take it from you?”

  “He said Azazel wants me to find them all.”

  Clay finished his beer and carried our empties to the kitchen and got us new ones. “Then why come here tonight?”

  “He wanted to offer me a job.”

  Clay snorted and lowered the first bottle to the lip of the counter and smacked it with his hand, knocking the top off. “Popular girl.”

  I ignored his teasing, not ready to work through that whole lie of Harrold’s. I slid the ring on my finger and it spun to the side, several sizes too big for me. The metal band was heavy and warm from being against my skin, and I imagined that it had held my mother’s warmth. I rubbed the gold inlay and wondered at the symbolism behind the pentagram.

  “What’s the star mean?”

  “First off, it’s a pentagram, not a star.” The gem surrounding the inlay glowed with my attention. “I’m not sure the significance of this one, but it’s used a lot in religious relics. But I’m sure you knew that.”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Just wanted to get you out of your head some more.”

  I grunted and spun the ring around. The hammered metal left imperfections along the underside and I had no idea what to do with it now. “Why do you think Harrold didn’t take it that night after Mom died? He came all that way and burned the village to the ground—I can’t really see him walking away without the relic.”

  “Yeah, but someone knows why that guy did what he did, or didn’t do. It’s a crazy, weird ass world we are living in, Lina. We’ve got to figure this thing out. What’s the second one? Next relic? Come on … what do we find next?”

  We? Not sure how I felt about that, but Ralph had said that Clay was in this thing now, and Metatron had backed it up. I shook my head and slid it from my finger, then set it in his open palm. The stone’s glow faded as soon as I let go. “Hopefully Ralph will have figured that out, or maybe Metatron—”

  Clay scrambled over the back of the couch, alarmed by the good-looking guy with the silver-tipped wings who’d just showed up in my apartment, beckoning to my call for the first and only time.

  “What the—”

  I drained half my beer, then stood. “Metatron, so nice of you to show up. You remember Clay.”

  “Holy shit. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that pop-in of yours.” Clay eased closer while I tried to figure out what to say to Metatron. Did I confront him about Harrold’s lies? If this were a regular operation, I never would have compromised a source or intel without finding out what the other side knew first.

  I had to treat this the same way—if only to keep my sanity.

  “Congratulations.” Metatron motioned toward the ring. “I k
new you could do it.”

  I pointed at my partner. “It was all Clay.”

  He blushed and ducked his head. I seriously thought he was going to say, “Aw, shucks.” But he cleared his throat and straightened. “Ralph was a big help.”

  Metatron nodded.

  “So what’s next? Do you think Harrold will come find me and kill me, like he did my mom? You know that he paid me a visit?”

  He stared at me for a long beat and I stared back. I hoped he could see my wariness. I was incredibly confused and that made me retreat to the point that I wasn’t going to trust anyone.

  Finally, he blinked. “You don’t have to worry about Harrold just yet. Go see Ralph. He’s found what you need for the next step. I’m proud of you, Lina, and I know your mother would be too.”

  He took a step back, like he’d reconsidered his decision to stay much longer. I’d wanted to question him, but there was an unease about him that made me tread cautiously.

  I lurched forward, quickly thinking of a way to discover some of the truth. “One other thing … before you go.”

  Metatron glanced at Clay, then at me and he nodded. “Certainly.”

  “I want a way to watch that video feed again, and if Clay could see it, that would be even better.” I didn’t know how to add that I didn’t want to do it with Metatron around.

  Clay stepped forward. “We need to know as much as we can about the mission.”

  “Yes.” Metatron clasped his hands at his waist. He looked at me again. “Fine. The DVD is in your player. Destroy it after you’re done.”

  I managed not to flinch. Did he know that I was looking for something? I felt like we were doing an uneasy dance around each other. I’d also let him use my parents to manipulate me. Even if he’d done it for the eventual good for Griffin’s soul, I’d still played into his hands. I needed to get back to what I knew, and that was truth.

  “I expect you to continue at this pace,” Metatron said. “Griffin is counting on you. We’ve no time to waste.”

  “No,” Clay said. “No, we don’t, so we’ll get started watching that video now.” He rounded the couch and stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for coming, it was really nice to see you again.”

  Metatron nodded. “God bless.”

  We echoed the sentiment and he vanished.

  Neither one of us moved.

  I wasn’t up to watching the video. Not yet. I needed to let my mind rest and needed it to be totally clear of tonight, both from Harrold and Metatron. I needed to have a blank slate when I watched it so I could see it with unbiased eyes.

  “Let’s take a break, okay?”

  His other hand cupped my shoulder and he turned me. His wide grin eased the tension in my body. “We won.” He said it quietly, as if he was worried about startling me.

  I was as tight as a tripwire, so it was a founded concern. I didn’t know how to let him go tonight, or what I could say that would make him feel more comfortable that I wasn’t about to have a serious meltdown.

  “Did we?” I sure didn’t feel like it. Sure, we had the relic. But we also had enemies, lies, and confusion. Never mind. My own dance with the darkness that had required Clay’s quick thinking and willingness to pull me back.

  He kissed me softly on my cheek. I really didn’t know what to think of it. I looked up at him questioningly. “Everyone needs a little tenderness and a friend sometimes, Lina. Something tells me you’ve been needing both ever since you lost Griffin. I’m here for you. I’ll help you with this and I’ll be your friend. I’ve got no ulterior motives, and I promise I’ll keep the flirting at a minimum.” He smiled at me, grabbed me another beer and plopped back down on my couch. “Guess we start making plans to go find the next one.”

  I sat down next to him, took a swig on my beer and looked into his startling blue eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “Yeah, I could use a friend and … yeah, I guess we better start making some plans to find whatever it is the archangels, God, whoever is calling the shots, wants us to find.”

  At the end of the day, I desperately wanted to find Griffin and help his soul get to the right place. I loved him with all my heart. He was supposed to be my soul mate. I still loved him. But, there was this kind of weird thing going on with me that I didn’t want to admit, because I was extremely ashamed to even be thinking … or feeling it.

  It was damningly human, reminding me that I still felt. I didn’t want to admit it to myself even, and I certainly didn’t want to admit to Clay that I really didn’t mind his flirting at all. And I didn’t want to admit that the kiss he’d gently planted on my cheek lingered and had sent some serious tingles through my entire body.

  The End

  To be continued in:

  The God Game

  A.K. Alexander & Jen Greyson

  Coming February 17, 2015!

  One

  And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest's, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. — Matthew 26:51-52

  I relaxed into the stylist’s chair. This was a well-deserved luxury and one I didn’t do often. Most of the time my dark hair stayed in a simple ponytail to keep it contained and out of my way. Today’s decadence was a nice reprieve from recent events. I still had a hard time stringing together that a few short months ago, I’d come home from my fiancé’s funeral to be drawn into a search for a trio of relics that together, would open a gate to Hell. Oh, and the guy calling the shots? The earthly man, Enoch, who ascended into Heaven to become the archangel, Metatron.

  Mika, my stylist, drew a round brush through my damp hair and flicked on the hairdryer, plunging me into a welcome sound bubble of my own thoughts. Metatron wasn’t letting me tackle this mission by myself though. Oh, no… He’d given me a fantastic assembly of a team. I had a scholar as ancient as the religious relics he knew as well as the liver spots on his own hand—though with his slipping mind, my confidence level of his wisdom slipped daily, but he made up for those memory gaps with a fierce fervor for this cause. He knew everything there was to know about the Book of Enoch, Metatron’s personal bible of all things heavenly, earthly, and below.

  Then there was Clay, my partner-in-crime and a brilliant, yet flippant thief who didn’t take anything serious, except maybe the day’s fantasy football picks. Rounding out the stellar grouping was my aging mentor, currently recovering from hip surgery. He’d brought me up and recruited me into the “family business” of assassins for hire.

  We were a motley crew, to be certain. But based on what I’d seen so far and what I feared lay in store for us, we might just be the best equipped to succeed.

  I sighed and tried to let the tension melt from my body. To say I deserved a day at the spa was the understatement of the year. While Mika’s hairdryer cocooned me in a blanket of warmth and the brush tickled my scalp, I let my thoughts wander to Griffin, my fiancé, murdered in retaliation for my hired kill of a South Asian leader—or so I’d thought. With every new rock we’d turned over, I’d learned that not everything that had happened in my life was quite what I’d been told and Griffin’s death was only the first lie. The Angel of Death, Azazel—a former archangel in his own right—had intercepted Griffin’s soul. They’d boosted it like a painting and carted it off to hell, trapped him there and as his soul mate, I was the only one who could save him. Griffin’s holy soul—was a hot commodity apparently and Azazel was currently trapped in a prison of his own making, he’d steal whatever he needed to be set free.

  Or so he thought. I’d already dealt with his number one guy, Harrold, a foot soldier sent to keep me from succeeding. But they’d underestimated me. Badly. And I would not fail Griffin… Not this time.

  We’d already found the first relic, the ring of Solomon, along with a handful of items that we hoped would prove thei
r importance soon. We had a rock from the Garden of Gethsemane, where Judas betrayed Jesus, two of the silver pieces that Judas had been paid in recompense for the betrayal, and a knife once thought to be possessed of powers that shielded a high priest from bad angels. My weaponry was as eclectic as my teammates… We had yet to see which was more useful—or the bigger liability.

  Next on the agenda was relic number two and that was going to require the team to walk straight back into danger. All we knew was that the actual relic was another weapon used that night in the Garden, the sword that Simon Peter—Jesus’s right hand—had used against one of the soldiers that night when they came for Jesus. (He lopped a dude’s ear clean off!) From what Clay and I had been able to figure out—and he was definitely better versed in the religious relics—the sword had disappeared that night, lost in the fray of the events of the next few days and never really talked about, forsaken for the “trendier” relics like the shroud, the chalice from dinner earlier in the evening, and even bits of the cross.

  I’d wondered a lot over the last few months at the simplicity of the relics we’d found so far. Solomon’s ring held legendary status as holding the power to control demons, so that at least made a little sense as something that might open a gate to hell, but a stone? A knife? A sword? I thought for sure we were going after a holy set of keys, not a bunch of weaponry. But what did I know about opening the gates of hell, maybe that was exactly the kind of thing that opened them.

  I hadn’t seen Metatron since a few days before Christmas, and he’d been as stingy as ever with details and clues. All he’d parted with was our next location—Greece. I assumed I was overdue for a visit from the archangel, but I figured he’d come see me as soon as he wanted to send us back on the trail. We had a limited amount of time to retrieve Griffin’s soul—apparently it was being stained by evil and the longer he stayed, the less he’d be like himself by the time I got him out of hell.