Lucca (24 page)

“Yes.” Lucca met Blaize’s gaze. “Be ready to
use your mojo. A rock sliding open like Jesus’ tomb will draw
unwanted attention.”

Blaize nodded and grinned at the Biblical
reference. “Already covered. Your winged buddies will see
nothing.”

Lucca flicked the switch. The heady weight
of Blaize’s magic expanded around them, cushioning their every
move. The rock creaked in protest like a giant poked awake after a
long rest. Blaize helped him ease the rock open just enough for
both of them to slip in.

Lucca glanced at the opening. He didn’t want
to chance closing the rock and being trapped inside, but he didn’t
want the guards to see the opening either. He looked to Blaize.
“Will your powers work to shield the opening even as we take the
path down below?”

“If you continue to insult me, I’ll leave
you in here to rot.” Blaize snapped his hand and two torches
appeared in his hands. He shoved one at Lucca before turning to
light the oil trenches mounted to the walls of the cave. The
trenches stretched from one end of the cave to the other. One touch
of the flame and the oil came alive, fire surging forward lighting
the path before them. Lucca did the same on his side of the
cave.

“This is child’s play.” Blaize grinned. He
snapped his fingers and the torches disappeared. He moved past
Lucca, going down the only corridor. The tunnel had been dug out by
hand and the fine powered dirt layered the floor and walls.

“As much as it wouldn’t pain me to see you
run through,” sarcasm laced Lucca’s words, “perhaps, you would like
to slow down so not to trip the hidden levers.”

Blaize halted and whirled around to glare.
“This is a maze with hidden traps?

Lucca took the lead. “Of course,” he threw
over his shoulder. “Did you really think you could waltz right in
here?”

“You Fallen are a sick lot, you know that
don’t you?”

“And Darklins aren’t?” Lucca took cautious
steps, looking for the trigger piece on the ground.

“No, they are, too,” Blaize said.

Lucca let out a short laugh and shook his
head. His pace slowed, spotting the first of the traps. A fine wire
a half an inch above the ground was pulled taut and stretched
across the path with the intent to trip the intruder, setting the
wheels in motion. To the right of him, his gaze traveled over the
rock corridor’s wall, remembering his father’s words:
Trip the
wire and a blade will swing down to cut you in half.
He looked
back at Blaize, who stared at him with a raised brow. Lucca pointed
to the wire and then to the wall where there was evidence of a
false cover.

Lucca stepped over the wire and Blaize
followed his steps. “One down, eight more to go,” Lucca told
him.

“Splendid.”

“Just think you could write a song about
your adventure. Isn’t that what you musicians do, write lyrics
depicting life?” Lucca asked, actually half curious.

“I express my thoughts and if something
happens in my life worthy of mention, I put the story to
music.”

“How special,” Lucca’s words dripped with
sweet sarcasm, but he actually owned two of Blaize’s CDs. The
Darklin had a talent.

“Trust me, our adventure down here isn’t
worth my time to write about.”

Lucca snorted. “Have it your way.” He
halted, his arm swinging up and across to keep Blaize back.

“What now?” Blaize didn’t bother to restrain
his irritation.

“We have to step carefully on the blocks.”
He pointed to the different color stones, lining the ground.

“Or what? Poison arrows will shoot from the
walls?”

Lucca met Blaize’s gaze. “Yes.” He turned
away, his lips twitching at the corners at Blaize’s slacked-jaw
look of surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Did the Fallen
watch too many
Raiders of the Lost Ark
? Who does this
crap?”

“These precautions were set in place long
before the human film came to be. Make sure you follow exactly
where I step,” Lucca warned as he headed forward, ignoring Blaize’s
curses. The lighter gray, were the stones to step on. Any other
would be disastrous.

“I could be home right now in bed with one
of the red-headed twins. Their perky—”

“Do you mind?” Lucca threw over his
shoulder. “I have no wish to know of your sordid deeds.”

“Whoa ho, didn’t know you were going for
Saint of the Year
award. I thought you Fallen could get it
on now.” He chewed on his lower lip and grunted, while his fisted
hands grinded forward and his hips jutted forward in a suggestive
manner.

Lucca rolled his eyes. “Get it on? Finding a
soul mate has nothing to do with what you’re suggesting.”

“Really?” His dark brows rose. “Last I
checked relationships also involved sex.”

“Not the kind of sex you’re into.”

“So you do remember what I’m into?”

Lucca whirled on him, wanting to wipe the
grin off Blaize’s face. “Will you shut the—” A rumbling beneath
their feet halted his words.

Blaize’s eyes widened as he looked for the
threat, his hand automatically going for his dagger.

“Your feet,” Lucca pointed.

Blaize looked down. His one foot was planted
on the gray, but the other one stood partially on the stone layered
with fine red powder. “Oh bite me,” Blaize groaned.

The floor gave away beneath his feet like a
trap door. Lucca’s hand whipped out, grabbing Blaize’s arm before
he fell to whatever doomed fate awaited him below in the opened
earth. “Dammit, I told you to follow where I stepped.” He grunted
as he yanked Blaize over the edge of the pit and onto solid ground,
both of them falling backwards. Blaize landed on top of him, but
rolled away quickly.

Blaize glared at Lucca. “I was following
your steps, but you had to stop and vent.”

Lucca opened his mouth for another retort,
but the earth shook again. Curses flew from his mouth as he jumped
to his feet and sprinted forward. “Run!”

Blaize didn’t have to be told twice as he
jetted after Lucca. “What about where we’re stepping.”

“Too late for that. Keep your head
down.”

Spsst sppst…thunck.

The sound of arrows whizzed by their heads
slamming into the walls as they ducked and ran, the ground
grumbling beneath them as they went. It was sliding to the right.
The path become smaller and smaller as the floor slid into the
cave’s wall.

Lucca hadn’t remembered Arizul telling him
the floor would slide away.

The last few yards they had to jump and roll
to safety at the end of the stone path where a smooth dirt ledge
began the next part of the path. Gravel spun off their heels,
raining down to its finality in the pit below. The earth ceased to
move and the only sound was their labored breathing.

Lucca stood resting his hands on his knees
as he leaned down to catch his breath. Blaize braved a peek over
the edge to look down into the pit. Spikes poked up from the ground
as a welcoming mat to whoever stepped wrong.

“I’ll say it again. The Fallen are sick
bastards.”

“More like my father is the demented
perpetrator you want to curse.”

Blaize turned his attention on Lucca.
“Arizul designed all this?”

“Yes. He created this delightful maze. What
can I say; he’s a prince among the deranged.” He didn’t wait for
Blaize to make an offhanded remark, but continued down the next
hallway.

Blaize kept pace with him. “I can relate to
deranged relatives. I have no complaints with my father, but if you
recall, my uncle was a down right bastard. He did his best to make
Sarice’s and my life miserable. Seems we have something in common
in that case.”

Lucca’s gaze riveted to him.

Blaize shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t
worry, I’m not going to sing Kumbayah and pick out towels for us to
move in together. So relax.”

Lucca grunted, his lips pressing together in
a fine line as he kept heading forward. The passageway led them on
a downward path where the air became thicker. The temperature
raised a few notches too, making the confined area feel like a
sauna. “Not much farther.” Lucca pointed at the door at the end of
the pathway.

“Finally,” Blaize swiped his brow, brushing
away long dark strands out of his eyes.

They took the final steps separating them
from the door. Blaize’s hand gripped Lucca’s shoulder. “What are
you doing,” Lucca demanded, shrugging out of his grip.

“Shimmering us inside.”

“Eegit, the Vault is spellbound,” he pointed
to the etched carvings around the door that looked like ancient
Celtic symbols. “You could only shimmer in and out of the Vault if
the door stood open.”

Blaize held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Excuse me. Didn’t know we were dealing with spells, too, but why
am I not surprised? Do you mean
open sesame
doesn’t work
here?”

Lucca ignored him and reached into his pants
pocket, pulling out the iron key containing intricate cuts to
define the teeth. When he lifted the key from his father, he left a
fake in its wake. The replica was perfect down to the filigree on
the handle. His father would see the fake key on the mantle and not
suspect it as anything but the original—well, until he tried to use
it. He wished he could have been here when that happened just to
see Arizul’s face as he realized Lucca bested him for once.

He inserted the key into the lock and
recited the ancient words only the Angels knew. The language
sounded strangely like music, highs and lows of a singsong melody.
The door glowed brighter with each word until it shone like a
beacon radiating light. Surprisingly, the door remained cool to the
touch. His hand turned the key.

Click.

The sound was deafening in the quiet
surrounding them. Lucca turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The hinges groaned against the intrusion, indicating no one had
been down here for a long time. Air whooshed out like a ghost freed
from its confines, blasting Lucca’s hair away from his face. The
room sat in darkness and Blaize snapped his fingers and a torch
popped into his hand. There were oil-based sconces waiting to be
lit and Blaize did the honors, lighting the six sconces mounted on
the walls.

The Vault contained a conglomerate of
ancient artifacts, books, and trinkets of every sort, glittery to
the mundane.

“Why do you need the book?” Blaize finally
asked, making Lucca wonder why it had taken the Darklin so long to
ask.

“It’s none of your business.” Lucca strode
over to the ornate desk of marble and gold and began rummaging
through the drawers.

“I think I’ve earned the right to know.”
Blaize met his gaze, refusing to back down. “If I’ve risked my
reputation on this heist, I want to know what I’ve gotten myself
into. The book is pretty powerful mojo with the written work of an
Archangel who spent time at God’s side. You aren’t planning to try
and open a portal are you?”

“And where would I go?” Lucca grumbled,
wishing Blaize would learn to shut his trap. The male never knew
when to shut up, always harping. In that regard, he reminded him of
Gideon.

Blaize lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Where
couldn’t you go? The book would bring in a pretty penny if we sold
it on the black market.”

“There’s no
we
in this. The book’s
not for me anyway.”

“No?” His brows lifted in surprise. “You
risked your life… and mine for someone else. Why’s that?”

Lucca didn’t answer and Blaize’s hand
gripped his arm, pulling him to a halt. “Why?”

“I had a little visit from the Archangel
Barachiel and made a deal to get my wings back. It seems Raziel
went rogue on them and they need the book.”

“An Archangel going rogue? Are you
sure?”

Lucca nodded. “Raziel opened a portal and
sent a couple of humans through it.”

Blaize’s dark brows drew together over the
fine planes of his nose. “Why would Raziel do such a thing?”

“How should I know?” He walked over to the
bookshelf, scanning the rows for the books. He tried to shut out
Blaize’s continued blathering, but having a six-four Darklin
breathing down his back proved too annoying to ignore. His
excessive gabbing made his ears ring. He was worse than Gideon with
his endless questions.

“If Raziel helped these two humans it must
be for a good cause,” Blaize insisted.

“There is no cause great enough to alter
history. If Raziel sent the humans through time, he’s changed
something that should not have been altered,” Lucca grumbled.

“You know what the Archangels will do once
they find the humans, don’t you?”

“Don’t care,” Lucca voiced, but his words
sounded hollow even to his own ears. He didn’t want to care. He
didn’t want to know anything about whom the Archangels hunted. He
needed to trade the book for his wings. He needed his glamour to
keep Juliet and Owen safe from his father. He glanced at his arm
where a faint tattoo glowed, the stamp where Barachiel bonded with
him. He wondered if the Archangel could track him here to the
Vault.

“You should care. They’ll be—”

He whirled on Blaize. “Get it through your
thick skull. I don’t.”

Blaize held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Hey, and I thought we bonded. My bad. Do what you got to do. It’s
your conscience.” His hand brushed over a gold carved box, wiping
away the dust.

One… two.
Lucca counted under his
breath, knowing Blaize wasn’t through.
Three…four…five…

“As long as you can live—”

Lucca knew he wouldn’t disappoint him.

“—with the fact they’ll eliminate the
humans, then by all means hand over the book.”

“I thought I said I didn’t care.”

“I’m saying it anyway. Raziel thought it was
worth hiding the humans. I would want to find out what these humans
know before the big
A
takes them out.