Page 1 of Defying the Relic Hunter

Prologue

The day the Tai-Kok fleet appeared in Earth’s orbit is forever etched in my mind. These malevolent ghouls turned our world into an all you can eat banquet. Every man, woman and child know how the Jones clan stepped up. Their psychic abilities gave the world an early warning system, allowing people time to get to the hastily constructed underground shelters, before the Tai-Kok and their ally, the Rodan, could chow down.

Few people were aware the Dragos clan did their part to save mankind too. We’re a secretive lot and resorted to guerrilla tactics to fight the Tai-Kok and Rodan. My mother and half our clan were killed in the battle for Barcelona, Spain.

Uncle Aldo literally snatched me from the jaws of death, and we joined the horde of refugees looking for asylum in the United States. We relocated to Phoenix, Arizona. Uncle Aldo raised me the best way he knew how. I mean dealing with a kid who could see dead people had to be seriously freaky. But he took it all in stride and loved me unconditionally.

I was seventeen when Kaylee Jones decided to hook up with a Coletti warlord. Okay, Talree’s a hunk, but what a boneheaded move. Her stunt brought Earth to the attention of Zarek, the Coletti Overlord. Once he discovered the Jones family’s unique psychic powers, and their blood’s ability to heal cellular damage, he promptly seized control of Earth.

The military geniuses at Central Command decided an alliance with the Coletti Empire was a Godsend. I’ll admit the Coletti warlords and their allies did a terrific job of wiping the Tai-Kok from existence. But their protection came with a price. Zarek demanded we turn over all psychic women to him. Seems he needed us as breeding stock.

Big shocker, the Coletti warriors’ tendency to take things that didn’t belong to them started the Great Galactic War. Unfortunately for the females of the universe, chemicals used on the Coletti people in the war created a genetic anomaly, and only one female baby was born for every one thousand males. The Coletti women were going the way of the dodo bird and guess who got to pay the price for their men’s stupidity? Us.

The second Zarek signed the treaty promising to protect Earth from alien raiders, Central Command arrested every Jones serving in the military. God help us if Zarek ever learned about our paranormal talents. Keeping our existence a secret, became a bit more difficult when Central Command began enacting new laws. Anyone with extrasensory abilities had to report to their local military base, fill out registration paperwork, and get chipped like a friggin’ dog. You faced fines and jail time if you refused.

Not a single Dragos female has ever been chipped or mated to a Coletti. Why? Because Uncle Aldo developed an ENF shield that nullifies the Coletti warriors’ psychic powers. The Overlord would have never known about our devices if the idiots at Earth First hadn’t stolen a prototype. Central Command believed the discs were taken from Alliance scientists and went after Earth First with a vengeance.

Uncle Aldo learned from Earth’s First mistakes and our shields are disguised in wrist communications bands and jewelry.

My mother, Cassandra Dragos, was a powerful psychic. Confident that I would exceed her abilities, she named me after the formidable Greek Goddess Kassiopeia. Mom was a bit disappointed when I hit puberty and still hadn’t manifested any of her awesome talents.

What special gifts did I receive? The ability to see dead people. Just shoot me now. I’m a thief and talking to dead folks is about as useful as a three-legged horse. The two practical talents I did receive from mom were projecting illusions and the ability to mesmerize men. Unfortunately, I can only hold the illusion for ten minutes before it goes poof. To bewitch a man, he must gaze into my eyes for at least sixty seconds. Sixty seconds is a freakin’ eternity, unless you’re a scorching hot supermodel. I’m not drop dead gorgeous, and the fact that I’m a teensy bit overweight, doesn’t help either. The sad truth is, I haven’t had a date in over three years.

My clan is filled with accomplished conmen and thieves. The more loot you bring in the higher your status. To date, I’ve brought in five hundred and sixty credits. Uncle Aldo had faith in me. My clan not so much. They booted me out. The only way back in was to pull off a million-credit heist. Alone.

I was twenty-two with no real job skills, no money and the realization I hated being a thief. To keep me from becoming homeless Uncle Aldo rented me a cheap apartment on the sly. After a month of searching, I managed to find employment as a roadkill collector. My job was scooping up the mangled furry bodies. I was ecstatic. It paid twenty credits an hour but working in 110-degree temperatures was tough. I lasted a month before I ended up in the emergency room from heat exhaustion.

My second job was cleaning gross, fly infested porta-potties, which earned me another trip to the hospital for dehydration. The only upside of that nasty job was I happened to be in the right place, at the right time to rescue a three-year old girl from her kidnapper. Uncle Aldo had a fit when my picture was plastered all over the news vids. Being a heroine got me nada.

Utter desperation drove me to become a research subject in an experimental drug trial. When I started babbling about seeing dead people, they abruptly showed me the door.

Uncle Aldo took pity on me and got me work at the local cemetery as a groundskeeper. I managed to hang onto it for eight months until my boss caught me talking to the dead. My bad, but I was lonely. The jerk even called the police on me, claiming I was high on drugs and that’s how I ended up at the unemployment office.

Chapter One

The unemployment office was housed in a beige, cinder block building that reeked of sweat and despair. The temperature hovered around 95 degrees. All the wheezing air-conditioner did was push the warm air around the packed waiting room. Add in hordes of flies, the ear-shattering wails of bored children and the place could double as hell.

After standing in line for an hour, I was directed to a crappy, outdated computer to fill out the proper paperwork. Once I was finished, I was given a card with the number eighty on it. The electronic counter on the wall sat at ten. Oh yay, only seventy people ahead of me.

Bored out of my mind, I flipped through a tatteredArizona Highwaysmagazine. The article about Montezuma’s treasure caught my attention. I could really use some of that Aztec gold about now.

Seems back in the early fifteenth century Cortez overran the great Aztec empire. To keep the greedy bastard from taking all his loot, Montezuma packed up his gold and with a small army guarding it, sent it north into what is now the canyon country of southern Utah. There, so the legend tells, his king’s treasure is still hidden.

The story got even more interesting. In 1921, Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, showed up in Kanab, Utah and convinced the town folk that he had a four centuries old map that would lead them to the long-lost treasure. He must have given one hell of a speech, because gold fever hit the hard-working farmers with a vengeance.

Kanab’s elected mayor and city council were the first all petticoat government of that time. The women decided it was plain foolishness to share the treasure with the outside world and fines were levied for even uttering the wordtreasure. The ladies organized the treasure hunt like generals commanding an army. Each morning Kanab would empty and each night the deserted streets would fill up again. Since the town was the most inaccessible city in the United States it was easy to keep their secret. This went on for two years and lucky for me, they never found the treasure.

I gasped as the image of an emerald embedded in a large gold amulet suddenly formed in my mind. I instinctively knew the amulet was the key to finding the treasure. Was I finally coming into my powers? God, I hoped so.

The amulet abruptly vanished, and I found myself staring at a large, heavily muscled man with amber eyes. His Hollywood good looks were marred by a small scar across his right cheek. My stomach clenched when he smiled. Were those fangs? I concentrated on the fuzzy image. Crapola. They were. Hollywood also had warrior braids and was wearing black battle armor. Was he after the treasure too? I sure hope not. Coletti warriors were persistent buggers. If you pissed them off, they would track you forever.

My eyes snapped open when Granny Annabel stated calmly, “He’s the one.”

I glared at her gypsy-like apparition. Granny always reminded me of an Italian Betty White. She refused to pass over until I found a strong man to protect me and she had been haunting me for four frickin’ years. “If you haven’t noticed, he’s Coletti. Not. Happening. Ever.”

“Beware of the Serpent,” she intoned and vanished.

Beware of the Serpent? What kind of mystical crap was that? I glanced down at the magazine and gold fever sank its claws into me. Ok, the fact that I was about to be evicted from my apartment and the only thing in my refrigerator was a moldy loaf of bread had a little to do with it. Finding the gold had to be easier than prying credits out of the unemployment office. Right?

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