Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) (13 page)

“Momma! What a surprise! What are you doing here?” Persephone cried.

Lucius’ jaw snapped shut with a click.
Momma, meaning ‘mother’.
His eyes went wide as Jude’s as Khemrhry spoke soft and low to her daughter and left the room.

Coriander dropped the pile of towels, finding it oddly difficult to close her mouth. He was facing away from her, the black of his tattoo wings rippling across well-defined back muscles as he bent to set down the sack of food she had handed him. Domniel looked like some sort of Persian sex idol wearing nothing but black pants, with a crimson sash for a belt. It made Coriander wonder if he even realized, that left to his own devices, his living preferences were very similar to her mother’s.

Her attention snapped back to the present as he quietly said, “Could you help me with something since you’re here?” His voice was a little deeper, rougher as though he wasn’t using it enough.

I can think of a few things to help you with. Where would you like me to start to licking?
she thought, then blushed as Jude’s face popped into her mind. Persephone was right. Dominick just made a girl think very dirty thoughts. She almost didn’t recognize her own voice as she said, “What do you need?”
Oh shit! Am I flirting?

Domniel slowly turned to face her, his voice like liquid sex, “I don’t think it would be wise for you to offer up anything about needs, Coriander. Jude would probably kill me. Or at least make a valiant attempt.”

Her temper flared. “Yeah, well, Mr. Broody is having issues of his own. He’s back at the main house having fits because he made out with my mother when she was trying to give him CPR. Keeps freaking out because he,” she made air quotes, “’kissed Khemrhy’. Like it’s some big damn deal.” The room got hotter, and Cori looked up to find Domniel standing directly in front of her, holding out his hand.

“Why don’t you take me up to the house and I’ll talk to him about it? I’ll get him to chill out.”

“My pottery!” Coriander shrieked. Jude whirled in the direction of the door and saw her standing there with a face full of ire. Domniel stood behind her, holding tightly to her tiny hand.

“I didn’t break it. Lucius did it,” he stammered as she let go of Domniel and bent to the shards on the floor with a noise of irritation. Domniel carefully scooted around her and shuffled over to him, frowning.

“What’s got you in such a twist?” he asked. Domniel was silent, his chest heaving. Jude sighed out the breath he’d been holding. Then everything sped up.

Snarling, Domniel was fast as he grabbed Jude’s throat in his hot, tight hand and shoved him against the wall. Jude struggled for air as fire lit every nerve. Domniel’s blind eyes burned a brilliant blue as his face narrowed the space between them. He bared his teeth as Jude tried to pry the hand from his throat.

“Let’s get something straight. Whatever you felt when you laid your mouth on Khemhry’s? You swallow that shit. I will personally,” his voice deepened to a low growl, “fuck you up if you ever lay a hand on her again. You got it…brother?”

Jude nodded as spots danced into front of his eyes. Air hit his lungs with nuclear force as Domniel let him go and he sank to his knees next to Coriander. He watched Domniel leave with caution. This day was getting worse and worse. All he wanted to do was curl up on the bed with Coriander and take a nap.

It was easy enough to sneak onto the property unnoticed. The noise from the back of the house suggested all the occupants were in the pool area. The Dealer placed his hand on the large brass doorknob, and let a trickle of power flow through his fingers. The knob turned with a gentle click. He stepped inside, careful to make no sound as his brain filtered through the images he had collected. His feet moved of their own accord, as if he had prior knowledge of the layout of the house, his steps taking him directly to the archeologist’s office.

His eyes sought out the glass case from his memories, and sure enough, it sat in its spot on the wall-to-wall cabinetry behind the large desk. As he neared, he realized what was wrong. He couldn’t feel the essence of the amulet. The case was empty.

Lips curling into a nasty sneer, he let his power fan out, searching for a trace of the object. Nothing. It was gone. He wouldn’t have the chance to tear the place apart to find it. A vile mix of anger and arrogance fueled his blood as he decided on a course of action. A glint of gold in the corner caught his eye, and he turned to come face to face with the golden death mask.

A plan clicked into place as he stared into the lapis eyes of the dead pharaoh. The Dealer’s lips softened, the harshness receding as he took in a deep breath.

Akhenaten. Of course.
The images flipped through his mind once again.
The progeny. Perfect.

He slipped back to the front door and out of the house, and made his way to the edge of the property. Night would fall soon, and he would strike. He still had time—granted, not much-- but if everything went as smoothly as he thought it would, then he would be back to stand in front of the Dark Lord and claim his reward. How much trouble could one little girl be?

The bushes only rustled a moment. Ashtiru held her breath as she peered between the leaves at the pair of worn, brown loafers that tried to sneak up on her. Princess wiggled, making the bush rustle again. Ashtiru squinted in the early morning light, and pulled at the hook on Princess’s collar. This stranger, who smelled like the matches she’d used to light Mommy’s carpet on fire, didn’t need to know that Princess wasn’t a normal badger. All she’d wanted to see was her Uncle Winston’s morning glories opening, so she’d gone outside to watch them. Then the stranger had shown up.

Ashtiru squatted between two of the purple flowers, trying to pick the petals as they opened, when the light became blackened by the outline of a tall man. The “bad feeling” crept over her skin, so she sneaked away like Mommy had taught her to, careful to stay silent. Quietly, Princess waddled out of the bush, and Ashtiru let her breath out as the bad man’s feet turned and walked away. Suddenly, Ashtiru wanted her mommy bad enough that she bit her lip and stifled a sob with her hand.
Her eyes widened as she saw the bad man stop and sniff like he was smelling her. Princess ceased in her bumbling and growled at him. Silently, he bent to the badger and inhaled. His gray head sniffed really deep as Ashtiru struggled to hold her breath. Finally, Princess bared her teeth and the stranger’s head jerked toward her. A giant, clawed, burning hand slammed onto Princess, crushing her underneath it.

Ashtiru screamed and stood up as the bad man killed Princess. A set of angry, glowing orange eyes that looked like melting pumpkins jerked to stare at her.

“Got you!” he rasped. Ashtiru screamed again and ran. Bushes and trees flew by as she ran on tiny legs, never noticing the fallen log.

She tripped and landed hard on her knees, scraping the tender skin off as she wailed.
Hands as hard and cold as ice grabbed her and pulled her to the matchstick man.

As the sun rose, Ashtiru’s cries folded into the setting shadows of night.

Coriander frowned. She looked around the Cheerio-scattered kitchen, fighting the bird about to push from her chest. “Ashtiru? Baby? Come out now. You win.” She raised her voice as her eyes kept landing on the back door.

It was cracked open, and tiny smudges formed a trail from the door to the badger’s food dish. Coriander’s heart rate began a staccato beat as hard as her sister’s crazy, horny, Irish drummers could bang out. She opened the door, expecting her child to be on the other side.

The empty walkway showed her nothing.

Coriander never understood anything as she turned and walked back to the entry to the rest of her house, eyes wide and teary. She didn’t think as she leaned on the doorframe, pressing a white-knuckled fist to her chest and screamed, “Alex!
Alex!
”

A door banged from somewhere upstairs, followed by the quick slaps of Alex’s feet on the stairs. He skidded to a stop inches from her, completely naked, dripping wet, and breathing hard.

“What the hell, Cori?” he gasped between breaths. “I was in the shower-“

“Ash,” she panted, “Ashtiru’s…” Coriander’s body began to shake as angels piled into the kitchen. Somewhere in the next few minutes, amidst Coriander’s sobbing in Greek and hysterical crying, queries delivered in soft voices and Alex managing to get on a pair of sweatpants snatched from an errant laundry basket, no one could get a word out of Coriander.

Lucius rubbed his scruffy chin and said to Jude, “I can’t get anything out of her that doesn’t involve Cheerios, a badger, and something about a bird.”

As Jude opened his mouth to respond, a deep, gravelly voice said, “She’s missing. She snuck off this morning.” Every head turned to see Domniel towering in the doorway.