Chapter 24

  If ecstasy was a place, she’d been transported beyond all space and time to reside there. Jillian had never made love with such wild abandon. She’d never experienced the splendor of a skilled and generous lover.

  Smith was unlike any man she’d ever known. His insatiable lovemaking left her exhausted, her limbs languid, yet she was as content as she’d ever been. Her clamoring thoughts had quieted, and she knew serenity did exist. With her head resting on his chest, his arms around her, she drifted in and out of a peaceful sleep.

  She could stay in his arms forever.

  But she didn’t have that long.

  She had slept with him for a very important reason. To get the ring. But Smith hadn’t taken it off his finger. The metal band had dug into her own fingers when they’d clasped hands during the countless times he’d taken her to the heights of pleasure, and beyond.

  When he began to stir beside her, she pretended to be asleep. She couldn’t have sex with him again. He was too addictive. The warmth and friction of his flesh against hers, the hairs on his chest roughly rubbing her nipples as his burning length moved inside of her, his fingers splayed out across her bottom, lifting her to meet his forceful thrusts… it was all too wonderful to bear.

  Desire flowed from her center in a warm, wet rush as she relived the memory of their night together. Her inner muscles clenched and she longed to feel him full and thick inside her, thrusting hard and long and deep, building her pleasure to a thrilling peak, not stopping until he’d taken her over the edge and into a gripping climax that literally made her swoon.

  She’d moaned, she’d screamed, she’d wept, her emotions running rampant, stunned by the unbelievable pleasure Smith had given her each time their bodies were joined in turbulent need.

  Sensation throbbed through her, desire pooled between her legs, and it took every bit of her remaining strength to let Smith climb out of the bed, rather than pull him back down on her and all but beg him to take her one last time.

  Jillian had to let him go.

  She felt silly for thinking it was going to be easy. Would it have been easy for him?

  She heard the start of the shower and cracked open one of her eyes to peer through the darkness.

  Dim light came from the bathroom. She opened both eyes. Through the open door she saw him standing naked at the counter by the sink. He pulled the ring from his finger and set it on the counter, then disappeared from view. A moment later, the glass shower door closed.

  Jillian shot up from the bed.

  This was her chance.

  The only problem: the shower was glass. He would see her, unless he was facing the other way. Odds were fifty-fifty. Not bad odds, really, since that’s all she had.

  She hurried into her clothes first, not tucking in her blouse or putting on her heels. Silently, she crept up to the bathroom door. She could see her reflection in the mirror as she got closer, but the shower was out of her sight.

  Taking a moment to peek through the door, slow and careful, she saw him in the corner shower. His strong, magnificent back was to her. He faced the wall while he washed his muscled arms. Jillian wanted to rush in and grab the ring, then be gone, but she also wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to turn around right as she did.

  She lowered her gaze and stared at his firm bottom, and his thick, strong legs. He had to be the sexiest man alive, and she was leaving him. Did she have to?

  Yes.

  So what was she waiting for?

  Every second spent hesitating was a second she couldn’t afford to lose. He could turn around at any moment. She snuck into the bathroom on her tiptoes, slinking up to the counter, where she snatched the ring.

  Quick as a flash she bolted from the bathroom, clutching the ring in her closed fist. She scooped up her shoes and her bag on her way out the door. She closed it without looking back.

  Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she scurried down the hallway to the elevators. A wave of adrenaline hit her and she ran the rest of the way, almost mowing down a couple who were just getting off the elevator.

  She darted in and rammed the button for the lobby, her heart hammering. Once the doors closed she took a long, deep breath. Another stroke of good luck, and she’d make it out of the hotel.

  She put on her shoes and looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Opening her palm, she examined the ring closely. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. It didn’t matter that she’d made a promise to her grandfather, that he’d taught her all he knew about being a Keeper. She’d never believed it would all come to be.

  Back down in the lobby, she raced outside to the valet desk. She was glad one of them recognized her, and per Smith’s instructions they had kept her car parked out front. She tipped the valet twenty dollars for the keys and dashed over to her car, threw her bag inside, and then fastened her seatbelt.

  The rain had stopped overnight, and traffic was light this early in the morning. She merged onto the street, headed south.

  Her stomach churned with nervous anxiety. Smith had to know she was gone by now, and that she’d taken the ring. She couldn’t explain why she felt bad about leaving him that way, since he’d taken the ring from her without any apparent remorse.

  Turnabout was fair play.

  But leaving him had been hard. She’d only had two choices. Take the ring and disappear, thereby saving the world, or stay with Smith, have amazingly great sex, and hope she could trust him to do the right thing.

  Jillian had followed her grandfather’s advice.

  Trust no one.

  She drove through the Queens tunnel, paid the toll, and took the Expressway towards JFK airport. She had a lot to do before the Gala.

  Chapter 25

  Saturday

  The Night of the Opening

  It was the little things that mattered. The extra blink of an eye, the twitch of a lip, a fidgeting hand. Those were the signs that revealed a person’s true intentions long before any words could betray their feelings.

  Jonathon had learned to read all the telltale signs of a liar, from their speech patterns, to how far their pupils dilated when they were being dishonest. His instruments did the rest of the work. Torture never failed to bring the truth out of someone.

  After the turn of events last night, Jonathon didn’t need to bring the truth to light. He knew exactly what was going on. Van Duyn had duped him, and the Head of The Order was going to let him get away with it. They were going to let Jonathon do all the work, while they took all the credit.

  That scenario wasn’t in line with his plans. He was a dreamer, with the ability to see a future full of possibilities.

  The sword would make it all happen.

  He glanced at the magical weapon lying on the seat beside him and saw his future reflected in the black blade. If he could eliminate all threats, he would be allowed to take his rightful place among Lucifer’s loyal servants.

  Jonathon deserved no less.

  It all started with the museum opening tonight. He had to kill the Watcher, get the ring, and take Jillian.

  The rest was sure to follow.

  ***

  Five stiff drinks, and he still couldn’t calm his temper. Kyriel poured another glass of scotch from the mini-bar in his room at The Plaza. He tossed back the drink, biting through the welcoming burn in his throat.

  Jillian had deceived him.

  And she’d done her job well, because he sure as hell hadn’t seen it coming.

  He faced the wall mirror and buttoned the sleeves and collar of his tuxedo shirt. Fumbling with his bow tie, he finally got it right. He didn’t know what he was more upset about: the fact that Jillian had deceived him, or that she was gone.

  He had completely underestimated her as an opponent. He’d let his guard down, and that’s when the clever little thing had made her move.

  Considering the fact he’d carried out a betrayal of his own, he figured they were even.

  Kyriel still intended to go after her.

  She might think she knew all she needed to know about the ring, but he knew more. He’d studied with the Magi and learned about their power and spells. He might be no match for Lucifer but he was better suited to the task than sweet, innocent Jillian.

  Well, after spending hours in bed with him, innocent might not be the best way to describe her, but she had a good heart. She strived to do the right thing, no matter what the personal cost, and he admired her tenacity. There were very few people he admired though, with Jillian, his feelings ran deeper than admiration.

  Much deeper.

  He didn’t know where things were going for them, he only knew he couldn’t stand the thought of her out there, alone, in danger, and away from him.

  Kyriel had spent a better part of the day scouring the city for her, and found nothing. If she was going to turn up anywhere, it would be at the opening tonight.

  He put on his black tuxedo jacket and poured one more drink.

  Let the party begin.

  ***

  Jillian spent the day doing all the things she would normally never do.

  First, she went to the spa, and got an hour and a half Swedish massage to work out her tension and the knots in her muscles. Her massage was followed by a mud bath and a cucumber facial, all of which left her feeling fresh and rejuvenated.

  Hoping to avoid detection until she went to the opening she took a cab to the mall, where she had a manicure and pedicure. Next to the nail shop was a beauty parlor, so she did hair and make-up, the works.

  She had a leisurely lunch in an upscale restaurant, along with two glasses of wine. Then it was on to Dior for a fancy gown.

  Presently, she was sipping a complimentary glass of champagne in the front lobby of the store while she waited for her next cab. She’d left her Mercedes parked at the airport in case anyone was looking for her.

  Her nerves grew tense and she had no glasses or sleeves to fidget with, no watch. Instead, she checked her beaded clutch, making sure she had everything she needed.

  Cell phone, red lipstick, some cash, the airport locker key, and her anxiety pills.

  She took out the bottle of pills, thinking she needed one, but as she twisted off the cap, the action didn’t hold the same familiarity it used to. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d taken one, and now she didn’t feel the need. Without the pills, everything was sharper. Colors were more vivid, sound had more clarity, and the smell of food made her ravenous.

  Jillian liked the new her. She liked having feelings, instead of suppressing them, and she threw the bottle of pills back into her clutch.

  Dr. Weber would have a field day with this new behavior.

  Mostly because if she didn’t need the pills, then she didn’t need a shrink, and the good doctor would lose a patient. One who spent five hundred dollars a week between therapy and drugs.

  Denise had been the one to get it right. All Jillian needed was a man. A real man, nothing like her ex. Smith was nothing like any man she’d ever met.

  And she missed him.

  She’d gotten used to having him around, intimidating her, arguing with her, and making passionate love to her. They’d shared a deep connection. One she felt to the very insides of her insides.

  She told herself she was never going to see him again, but she didn’t believe it. Not for a moment. Smith wasn’t the type of man to let her get away with what she’d done. He was stronger, smarter, faster, and somehow, somewhere, he’d prove the fact.

  A part of her desperately wanted to see him again, and that’s why she couldn’t stay at the party for too long. She was only going because she wanted to see the exhibit all lit up and full of people. The vision her grandfather had carried but hadn’t lived long enough to fulfill.

  She also wanted to say a quick goodbye to Denise. They were best friends, and her sudden disappearance would be hard to understand. Maybe she’d find some way to tell her friend the truth.

  But who in their right mind would believe such a story?

  Outside, the cab pulled up to the curb. She finished her bubbly glass of champagne and checked her reflection in the mirror by the door.

  What a dress.

  Black, with rhinestone sequins that sparkled like a thousand stars in the night sky. It had a low-cut back and a high slit revealed one of her legs. The dress was sex.

  Rudy, her sales assistant, had said so.

  Jillian liked that it was bold and provocative, so out of her norm. And, as Rudy had also stated, “Girl, you’ll look fabulous in pictures!”

  Chapter 26

  The museum looked monumental with all the floodlights illuminating its stone façade. Elegant and grandiose, there was a red carpet leading up the steps to the front entryway.

  Signs at least a hundred feet in length were draped on either side of the entrance, proclaiming the new exhibit on display—Lost Treasures of the Bible—complete with images of the Holy Cross, an opened Bible, and a robed angel with white wings.

  Kyriel skipped the busy cluster of the valet loop and parked his Corvette in the back of the parking lot. He liked to keep his car accessible in the event he needed to make a quick exit… a thing that had been known to happen when saving the world.

  Of course, he could always use his powers to flash himself in and out of places if he had to, but it often raised questions.

  Walking up to the entrance he blended in with the fashionable, black-and-white crowd as people filed into the museum. The tall, white pillars stood sentry to the exhibit entrance and the patrons formed an orderly line, slowly making their way through.

  Inside, an ensemble of musicians infused the room with chamber music and waiters with trays of bubbling champagne and platters of hors d'oeuvres made the rounds.

  Kyriel did a quick scan of the room, looking specifically for Jillian, but she was nowhere to be seen. It might take a little mingling through the crowd to find her, but he would find her, along with the ring.

  While he waited he wandered the exhibit, amused by some of the items the museum had on display. There were ancient cylinder seals mounted in gold and busts and statues of Roman emperors. Even a pile of rags claiming to be the Savior’s swaddling clothes. He perused the ancient sea scrolls, and more stone tablets that contained nothing of real interest.

  Overall, Kyriel wasn’t any more impressed than he’d been a few days ago. Jillian was right about her exhibit failing in comparison to his own collection. Imagine the look on people’s faces if they saw the Gospel of Mary.

  Or Michael’s sword.

  Or War’s shield.

  Their human minds couldn’t comprehend so much greatness because they had forgotten about the Divine. They had forgotten why they were here, and what great things they could do.

  A hush fell over the room and the crowd began to gather around the front podium where Jonathon stood patiently, waiting for the room to quiet. He looked even more dark and sinister than usual, as he prepared to make a pompous speech he’d probably practiced in front a mirror every night for the last month.

  Kyriel thought of the pictures Jonathon had of Jillian and all civility left him, but he had to be patient. There was a right time for everything.

  “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Jonathon’s voice boomed over the microphone. “Thank you very much for being here to celebrate the opening of The Whitmore Museum of Art and History’s latest exhibit, Lost Treasures of the Bible.”

  Cue the obligatory round of applause.

  Kyriel crossed his arms over his chest, grunting in disgust.

  “I would now like to introduce one of this museum’s best friends and staunchest supporters, the Mayor of our fair city, the honorable Mr. Alan Brody.”

  More applause sounded as the old, white-haired city official took the podium next.

  “Thank you Dr. Crawford, ladies and gentlemen,” the Mayor assumed speaking. “I am so excited and honored to be here at this wonderful museum, on such a beautiful autumn evening, as we prepare to...”

  Kyriel tuned out the rest of the speech. That’s not what he was there for.

  He plucked a champagne glass from a passing tray and sampled the fare. Light, subtle bubbles. Very good quality. He finished the entire drink in one swallow then set his empty glass on a display case housing some earthenware bowl.

  He continued to scan the room, searching for Jillian. He finally spotted her off in a corner, talking with her friend Denise.

  Perfect.

  He wove through the crowd, helping himself to a fresh glass of champagne, and a coconut shrimp, before he closed in on Jillian.

  ***

  Since arriving at the museum Jillian had switched right into work mode, doing what seemed like a hundred scans of the exhibit, making certain everything was in its place, the music wasn’t too loud, and the caterers were keeping people satisfied with an abundance of food and alcohol. Seeing no sign of Jonathon, or Smith, she’d been able to take a deep breath and step back from it all, appreciating how amazing the opening was.

  Her grandfather’s vision was complete, and it was time for Jillian to go.

  “I still can’t get over this dress,” Denise said, swallowing down her champagne. “What happened since the last time I saw you?”

  Jillian fought back a smile, knowing exactly who and what had brought on this change in her. “They told me it would look great in pictures,” was all she said.

  Denise was wearing a navy blue satin gown and a diamond choker, and she looked like a million bucks as usual, but she wasn’t going to be satisfied with Jillian’s vague answer.

  “That’s it?” Denise gaped at her, then exchanged her empty glass for a fresh one as a waiter passed by. “That’s all you’ve got to tell me?”

  Jillian nibbled her bottom lip, hating to keep secrets from her friend when she had so much to tell her. Things she wouldn’t believe.

  “I wanted to go out with a bang.”

  “You wanted to what?” Denise frowned, confused. “Are you off your meds?”

  Jillian choked on the laugh that burst forth. She was, of course, but she wanted to know how Denise could tell. “What makes you say that?”