Relic

Prologue

Ancient Gaul

Raphael charged into the Temple of Sirona. Where is she? Where is my wife? He asked anyone and everyone who would listen, but no one seemed to know and shook their heads solemnly. Aiden, he called to one of the guards.

Yes?

Something’s wrong. I haven’t been able to sense Sirona all day. Now, tell me where she is, man. Tell me so I can see her and know she’s all right.

I can’t tell you something I don’t know myself. Aiden worried the short beard on his chin. We’ve been looking for her since after midnight when she fooled us into thinking she slept. She’s wanted to free herself of the guards for hundreds of years now, even though she knows we are here to protect her gift at all costs. Looks like she finally succeeded. Everyone who can is looking for her, I promise.

Raphael glanced around at the hordes of followers bringing the day’s offerings to the temple, and a sudden chill ran up his spine. He unfurled his wings and took flight, praying he’d find her safe somewhere admiring the beautiful scenery. He would give his impetuous, stubborn wife a strong talking to. But as he approached a set of foothills, every nerve-ending in his body fired at once, filling his heart with dread. A golden sandal glinted in the sunlight near a cave opening. He descended to get a better look and knew, as he came closer, that it belonged to her. He picked it up and unsheathed his sword as he cautiously approached the entrance. Drag marks on the ground seemed to speak a troubling story. He quickened his steps. Another sandal lay in his path, and he picked it up, as well.

Sirona, he hissed, where are you? It’s me! He took a few more steps and stopped just short of stumbling over her. There she lay, in a crumpled heap with a dagger’s hilt sticking out of her right shoulder blade. Oh, dear Gods, Sirona!

He knelt down and set to work with his healing powers. Despite the dread filling his soul and the fear that shook his body to the core, he removed the dagger and closed the wound with precision and expertise. He worked his healing energy deep inside her to repair the torn tissue and discovered nearly every bone in her body had been broken. He turned her to lie flat and began to knit those bones back together. So focused on the gravity of the injuries, he didn’t notice her unusual stillness. Once done, he moved on to heal her mind and soul. As he placed his hands on her forehead and heart they turned to ice. No heartbeat.

No, it’s not possible. He concentrated more energy to do what he best- brought people back from the brink of death. Still, no movement. What the hell is going on here? This can’t be. Sirona, wake up. You…you can’t be dead. Wake up, I say. Sirona!

He staggered to his feet, cradling her body to his, wings trembling furiously, and screamed his rage. No! He took a few steps and fell to his knees to sway back and forth with her in his arms. He kissed her hair gently and cried out, "Mo chroi, mo chuisle, graim thu. My heart, my darling, I love you. I beg you. Please don’t leave me to face this world without you! I need you with me, by my side, forever and always. Don’t leave me all alone. I am nothing without you!"

The distance he’d flown in urgency, he now walked in despair. Within his arms he carried a precious bundle, the woman he loved. And as he walked, people noticed and followed behind in a mournful pilgrimage. He ultimately laid her to rest on the altar where offerings were usually left in her honor. While her shell-shocked priests and followers carried out their rituals to prepare her for the afterworld, Raphael left to make a pilgrimage of his own…to the Beyond, where he had come from. To his liege, E.L.

He pushed the security guards aside as he stalked, undaunted to his office.

Excuse me, Raphael, but he’s busy right now. Raphael! His hand swiped a display of small statuettes off the assistant’s desk. Her disgruntled mumbles fell unheeded at his heels. The floor-to-ceiling, stone double doors wouldn’t stop him either. He pushed them open as easily as he would curtains and stalked over to his superior’s desk, who looked up from his book with surprise. Resting his hands on the mammoth slab of a stone desk, his muscles pumped with pent-up fury.

My work for you as a Brethren Savior has kept me from saving the one I cherished more than my own immortal live. I can’t live throughout eternity without her, and bear this guilt and misery. I won’t. I don’t want to feel love for anyone ever again. So I ask you, as my master, to do what’s right. Wipe all memories of Sirona from my mind. Harden my heart so I will never feel love’s pain anymore. That’s the only way I will be the Savior you created me to be.

Chapter One

Sedona, Arizona

Eighteen months ago

Yo, Serena. Get a load of this!

Get a load of what? Serena shouted as she jumped down from her Jeep and poured the waiting bucket of cool water over her head. Ahh, just what the doctor ordered. She breathed in deeply, dragged her fingers through the tangled mess of honey-kissed hair, and sighed. It had been a brutally hot tour of Sedona’s most popular vortex sites this morning.

You got one heck of a package delivered earlier. It’s sitting on your desk. Why don’t you go to your office and check it out? Callie had mischief in her eyes and a shit-eating grin on her face. She’d changed her hair color, again. Shocking pink waves framed her pale face today. It matched her lip color and complimented her bold personality. Serena shook out her hair and wiped her face with her shirt sleeve as she walked past her best friend. Giving her a playful shove, she stuck her tongue out and pushed her way through the door to her office. She froze a moment and screamed.

Jared! Leaping to her desk, she nearly knocked her brother off his perch with a hug. I can’t believe it. When did you get back from Germany?

Whoa! Hey there, big sis. He squeezed her tightly and then extricated himself from her motherly attentions. I just got back today. God, it’s great to see you, even if you are soaking wet. He smiled as he swiped at his dampened cheeks.

Yeah, well you don’t need me tellin’ you how freakin’ hot it is out there, now do ya? So, spill it, she continued while scrutinizing his bedraggled appearance. "How’s your boss been treating you? Digging morning to night, even if it’s a rare archeological find, can’t be fun. I hope Mr. Big Shot Archeologist is at least going to give you some credit for helping with the dig. I know you don’t have any kind of schooling or credentials, but clearing away dirt from important artifacts still takes a level of skill. You should be getting something for your efforts, don’t you think? Money would be even nicer, come to think of it. He is paying you something, isn’t he?"

He crossed his arms and waited with a mask of familiar annoyance. You done?

I think so, she conceded and grinned. For now.

"I just got back, and all you can ask is if I’m getting paid for my work? Christ, but you never let up a bit, do you? If you must know, I am getting paid. In more ways than one. And that’s all I’m saying. I’m a grown man, Serena. Back off. Now, knowing it’s your birthday tomorrow, I thought I’d come back with a gift for the most incredible, if not the most overbearing sister in the world."

Oh, really you didn’t have to, she admonished. I know you’re broke. Just having you home is gift enough for me. He snorted. She laughed, too, and shook her head in defeat. Oh, all right. What on earth could you have gotten me? And how much is missing from my bank account because of it?

Very funny, and I didn’t raid your bank account for anything. Here, open it. He handed her a beat up Styrofoam box. She opened it gingerly; an inexplicable feeling of excitement and dread washed over her as a figurine slowly emerged. A bronze statue appeared, about ten inches tall, of a beautiful woman in a long, flowing gown, holding a serpent in one hand and a shallow cup in the other. She had a star-shaped crown on her head from which a veil draped down. The stunning woman’s face remarkably mirrored Serena’s own. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

I finally did it! You’re actually speechless! He slapped a hand on his knee. This is brilliant! Happy birthday, Serry. When I saw her face peering up from the ground, she immediately reminded me of you, so I had to have her. For you, I mean. Hey, you only turn thirty once, you know.

Serena lumbered over to her office door to close it and returned to her desk. As she sat, she stared at the piece of art still cradled in Styrofoam, troubled. She felt her brows take a dip into a scowl as she readied herself for yet another infernal but necessary interrogation of her brother. Every time he brought home something that cost more than a dinner at Wendy’s, he was suspect. And with good cause. She remembered soberly how, on more than one occasion, he’d acquired items that had fallen off the truck, and he landed in hot water with their parents. Before he’d left for the dig, they’d fought constantly about how much she paid him to run tours at the shop. To have the finer things in life, he’d argued, he deserved and needed more.

"Before I say thank you, tell me everything, now. Where did you get this? How did you get this? Are the police going to storm in here at any minute looking for you? Oh, my God! Should I even be touching it?" She took in some deep breaths to calm her racing heart and over-taxed brain. This wouldn’t be the first time her brother seriously screwed up and landed in jail. To make matters worse, he didn’t have their parents to bail him out anymore. Not with their mother long since passed and father in a nursing home.

"There you go again, believing the worst of me. You make it so hard to do something special for you. She groused and rolled her eyes at his whining tone. Now listen, I got this relic fair and square. Dr. Chappo told me I could keep this one because it has some kind of damage that makes its value much less than the others we found. But since it’s still such a rare find, I gotta ask you to keep it in a safe place. Like maybe at the bottom of our well out back. I don’t know. But it needs to be kept somewhere only you know. There are dangerous relic thieves everywhere who would do about anything to get their hands on a piece like this. We ran across them a lot over in Germany."

I bet you’re one of them, too, damn it. If that’s the case, why give this to me? Why give me something I can’t enjoy seeing all of the time? I mean, I’m grateful, but this sounds a bit on the sketchy side to me. And, maybe you haven’t thought about it, but you could be putting my life in danger with this.

Enough with the drama, lady! There’s nothing sketchy about it at all. I promise. You’re safe. Listen, I gotta go. I have things to do before I head back to Dr. Chappo’s. I won’t be able to get together with you tomorrow. That’s why I came today. I gotta run! I’ll call you. Remember, store that relic in a secret place. See ya when I see ya!

He kissed her quick, hugged her hard, and left like a bat out of hell.

She could scream. She. Could. Just. Scream. Not fifteen minutes after he arrived, Jared left again. No questions about Dad’s health. No idea when he would come back to give tours. Serena’d had it with Mr. Unreliable. She’d made a grand gesture of offering him a position at her company, giving him responsibility and a paycheck, and as usual, he squandered his money and showed up when he wanted. She had been ready to toss his ass out when the offer to go to Germany with some high-brow archeologist came his way. He left her a tour guide short, and no number where he could be reached.

Serena set the box down on her desk without even taking out the figurine and shook her head. She didn’t know what to do with it. She just knew Jared was into something, and it couldn’t be good. His getting hired and the whole trip to Germany with this Dr. Chappo happened in a whirlwind and gave her no time to check credentials. A cursory glance at Dr. Chappo’s minute bio on the Internet didn’t produce any flags, but she still questioned his desire to have her brother join his team. But, like Jared said, he’s a man now, and he has to live with the choices he makes.

When she saw him again, she planned on having a serious sit down with him, and laying the deal on the line once and for all. If he didn’t like it, ‘Mr. Man’ could fend for himself. If she could show the same kind of bluster to Jared’s face as she did in her mind, and not backpedal, it’d be a miracle. Truth be told, she was his personal doormat. He was all she had, besides Dad; who sat day upon day in a nursing home after a massive stroke had left him mute and unable to tend to his own needs. So she tolerated Jared’s irresponsible ways, to a point. This latest eyebrow raiser was the last straw.

Being the owner of her own company had its privileges, one being Serena could come and go as she pleased. Since she’d already done her one tour of the day, she elected to hightail it home with the statue and figure out a safe place for it. But first, she would find out a little bit about the darn thing.

Kinda creepy that her face looks so much like mine.

Callie-girl, she called out. I’m heading home for the day. Keep things running smoothly for me, will ya?

Sure, no problem, Boss Lady. Hey, I got a chance to talk to your brother for a bit before you came back. He’s buzzin’. Either he’s jacked up on something or excited to see you after, what’s it been, a month?

More like two. God, I can’t help it. I feel like something’s up with him. I wish I knew more about this Dr. Chappo and the dig Jared helped him with. But I know he’s a big boy. I can’t baby him forever.

Good girl! Those hikes along the vortexes must be helping.

Try Spiritual Healing with Monica Rainchild. I know, it sounds hokey, but she’s really been helping me deal with all my issues, Cal. Burning a hole in my pocketbook, too, but whatever helps, right?

Right! See you tomorrow. Callie ran to pick up the ringing phone. Sikes and Sounds of Sedona, how can I help you?

Serena walked out into the oppressive heat and around back to her Jeep. Normally, she loved the sun and the heat, but lately she ached like a thousand-year-old lady by the time her daily vortex tour ended, and couldn’t wait to get home and rest. Maybe I’m getting sick. No, she knew the reason. She hadn’t been sleeping well. Too much stress.

She’d been pulling wicked long hours during the spring and the beginning of the summer without a break. After long days in the Jeep, she’d go and sit with her father in the nursing home; feeding him dinner, making one-sided small talk, and assuring herself of the excellent care by the staff. She’d cut back on both, but it didn’t help. Now, with Jared coming home with such an extravagant gift for her…. Well, she hoped everything was on the up and up. Deep down, though, she knew better. But what could she do?

While driving up the winding path to the house, she let her mind wander back through memories of her childhood. She and her brother had played their own special tag game of roadrunner and coyote in the desert landscape surrounding the house. At twilight, while watching the sun set on many an evening, she’d often tell her dad that when she grew up, she was going to ride people around showing them the beauty of the land. She’d promised to live in that very home with her husband, five kids, two dogs, two cats, and a parrot named Jim. He always raised his eyebrows and chuckled at the five kids remark, telling her that having two kids was insane enough, let alone five. But she had always argued that those dreams would become reality.

Well, with the family pretty much decimated, home became more like an empty shell than the loving home of the old days or what so long ago she’d imagined it to be as her future. For her, many dreams lay trapped within the very walls that had protected her growing up. Dreams of talking about first love and heartache with her mother, her parents walking her down the wedding aisle, them bouncing her children on their knees, and watching Serena become a success. All those dreams, trapped like the insulation in the walls. In fact, these days, Serena felt more at ease out in the open desert than under her own roof, where those dreams kept crying out for freedom. She shook off the melancholy feelings that threatened to take hold.

Okay, shower first, information on the relic second, sleep third, she told herself out loud. As if there’s anyone around to care what the hell I do. The shower soothed her weary body, and as she slathered on Lily of the Valley body lotion, she skirted around memories of her mother massaging the same lotion into her sun-burned skin as a child. Awakening from her reverie, she sat down at the computer desk in her bedroom.

Time to find out about our little bronze woman.

It took some perseverance and nifty searching on the Internet, but before her hair could dry, she identified her twin in bronze.

Well, I’ll be damned, she murmured. You, my dear, are a freakin’ goddess. The Celtic goddess, Sirona, for Christ’s sake! The Goddess of Healing. Can you heal my crazy mind, huh? Probably not. You’d sure save me a lot of money, though. She chuckled and shook her head.

The relic, in its Styrofoam box, rested innocently on her bureau. Serena shifted in her seat to look at it. Drawn like an addict to a syringe, she walked over and took the statue out of its protective case. The weight surprised her, and the coolness of the bronze sent shivers up her arms. As she held it in her hands, a growing queasiness and lightheadedness enveloped her. Her bedroom spun out from underneath her. She fell hard to the floor and blacked out.

****

There she is, Mongrel! She’s fallen on the ground. We can’t let her escape us this time!

We’ve got her cornered, Cowen, never fear. He snickered. Look, she can’t even get up. Perfect.

Although midnight, the moon shone as bright as the sun itself and made for easy hunting. Sirona’s predators picked up their pace as they began pursuit of her in earnest.

She’d craved a little breathing room for a long while now, some freedom of movement. No guards to watch her every move, no servants underfoot. Now, however, she found herself running for her life and regretting her impulsive decision to sneak out. Just a few more steps and she would be safe again inside her temple. Her head ached from tripping and falling. She’d hit it soundly on the hardened earth, but knew she would be fine. A goddess, an immortal like her, didn’t need to concern herself with such trivial things as getting hurt. She could heal quickly, but needed to quicken her pace or else the menacing heathens would surely capture her.

Sirona staggered to her feet and charged ahead with all the speed of a tortoise. Her world was literally spinning out of control. She definitely didn’t feel like her usual self, but pushed the concern to the side, trying to focus and put one foot in front of the other. A disconcerting thought entered her mind. I am the Goddess of Healing! Why am I not healing?

Before she could reach sanctuary, the brutes were upon her. One of them grasped her neck while the other tackled her feet. In a heaving mass, they tumbled to the ground. Sirona’s breath escaped her as the thugs landed blow upon blow. Writhing, she cried out in pain, confounded that the assault could be affecting her in such a mortal way. When she finally stilled, they wrapped her arms and legs in ropes, gagged her mouth, and hoisted her onto a wagon. She watched her temple and village shrink away in the distance.

Where are they taking me? Into the mountains? Do they know they’ve captured the one being that can make them invincible, immortal? They must. This is not good. Not good at all. As the thought skittered through the recesses of her mind, she succumbed to the unaccustomed pain of the peasants’ assault and blacked out.

Sirona clawed her way back to consciousness, aware only of an incessant throbbing behind her eyes, and a dawning fear that she may not be so immortal after all. Another more disturbing thought occurred to her. If this were so, she may not live long enough to see her dream come true, to start a family with her husband, Raphael. She had recently married one of the Brethren Saviors; an angel, and her one and only love.

So, you are awake. That is good. Let me make introductions, one said nonchalantly. I am Cowen and this is Mongrel. We have a request of you. We hope you will oblige.

She grunted at his bizarre manner. As though he really thought she would take him seriously. Ridiculous! He removed the gag from her mouth, propped her body up to a sitting position on the ground, and awaited her response. Taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly, she struggled to gain some semblance of composure.

"You can’t be serious, heathen. You expect me to grant you anything after the beating I’ve taken from you, not to mention the fact that you’ve stolen me from my home? Never."

Cowen stood before her with arms opened wide, preening like a proud peacock. Oh, but you see, once you grant us what we want, we will let you go free. You are immortal, so you can go on living forever. We just want our share in that way of life, you see. So if you’d be so kind and bestow your gift upon us, we’ll no longer be a bother to you.

Her anger boiled over at their audacity. You…you want me to give you the gift of regeneration? I won’t do it! she screeched. You hear me, I won’t!

"Oh, but you will, Goddess, because the only other option for you is a most unfortunate death." Her heart skipped a beat as he stared straight through to her soul with Evil’s fiery red glint in his eye. He looked over at Mongrel, whose eyes reflected the same possession, and they laughed.

That’s impossible. She cleared her throat and muttered dismissively, I cannot die.

"Oh, my dear, you have been misled if you believe so. If you don’t yield to our request, you shall indeed find out how much. Mongrel! Give her a little taste of what we mere mortals fear most."

Mongrel lifted Sirona