Twilight Heart Page 4

  “Getting back to my original train of thought,” Felicity said. “You need to find Tia’s mummy and place her heart into her body. I believe this will reverse the curse on Mallory. Be careful, though, because Rekhmire will keep the mummy close so when you find the mummy, you also find him and, according to everything I’ve read, he’s very dangerous. He’s working on a plan to raise an army of the dead and annihilate the world. He may have failed in that task thousands of years ago but he’s going to try it again. All of the writings concerning him are apocalyptic in nature.”

  “We’ll be careful,” I assured her.

  “Good,” she said. “Well, that’s all the information I have to pass on regarding the curse so let’s eat and drink and enjoy ourselves.”

  The party got into full swing and soon everyone was exchanging stories and jokes about past cases and experiences.

  I watched Carlton Carmichael closely. He listened to the banter and joined in occasionally, trying to become a part of our close-knit group.

  I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt but my recent experience with the Society—when they’d sent two Shadow Agents to question me about my father—made me suspicious. Was he simply here to help or had he been handed some ulterior motive by the people who’d sent him here?

  One thing was certain; I was going to be hitting the books tonight. Carlton’s seeming lack of knowledge about the hieroglyphs on my wall meant I couldn’t trust him to interpret Tia’s message.

  6

  They came for Felicity at seven thirty.

  I was sitting on the floor of my living room with half a dozen books about ancient Egyptian magic and architecture spread out in front of me when I heard the car coming through the rain, splashing along the water on the street.

  Shrugging on my jacket, I went outside into the downpour. It was dark and a cold wind drove the rain into my face.

  The car—a black Bentley—was parked outside Felicity’s house, its headlights cutting through the night.

  Felicity had said goodbye to everyone at the party but I couldn’t just stay in my house while she stole into the night. That seemed wrong somehow.

  She came out of the front door trailing a suitcase behind her. In her other hand, she held a large black umbrella.

  “Here, let me get that,” I said, going to her.

  “Thank you, Alec.” She relinquished the luggage and held up the umbrella so that it was protecting both of us from the rain as we walked to the Bentley.

  “I’m going to miss this place,” she said with a sigh.

  “And you’ll be missed,” I said. “But you have a great future ahead of you as a P.I. You’ll be one of the best, I have no doubt about that.”

  She smiled. “I’ll let you know how I get on.”

  The driver got out of the car and opened the trunk, taking the luggage from me without a word and stowing it before getting back into the car.

  “Well, this is it,” Felicity said.

  “Text me when you land so I know you arrived safely.”

  “I will. Thank you, Alec. For everything.” She leaned forward and we hugged awkwardly beneath the umbrella.

  “Now you get back inside,” she told me as she collapsed the umbrella and opened the rear car door. “This weather is awful. At least it will prepare me for the English rain.” She got into the car and I closed the door for her.

  The car slid away from the curb and into the night.

  I stood on the sidewalk in the cold rain, watching the car until it turned at the end of the street and disappeared from view.

  And that was that. Felicity was gone. Every time I thought about the fact that I wouldn’t work with her again, a hollowness grew in my gut. But she couldn’t have stayed here working as my assistant forever; she was destined for better things than that. I’d meant what I’d said about her being a damn good P.I. She was going to help a lot of people.

  I turned away from the empty street and went back inside my house. After getting soaked in the rain, I decided to take a hot shower and get back to the books later. I wasn’t exactly getting anywhere. It had been too long since I’d done my own research and I was rusty. Relying on Felicity too much in the past had dulled my skills.

  When I got out of the shower and returned to the living room, wearing fresh, dry clothes, I heard a noise outside and peered through the window to check it out.

  A large black unmarked truck was parked outside Felicity’s house and a small army of men dressed in black sweaters, jeans, and watch caps were swarming back and forth from the house to the truck with boxes and crates.

  The Society really didn’t waste any time.

  I hit the books and tried to ignore the noise outside. But as I tried to read an old Society text about temples dedicated to the god Khonsu, I couldn’t concentrate on the words. I read the last two paragraphs again but my brain wasn’t taking anything in. My thoughts kept wandering to the situation next door where all of Felicity’s things were being taken away.

  There was no point in trying to flog a dead horse so I closed the books and pushed them aside. I turned on the TV but couldn’t concentrate on anything. Eventually, I just channel surfed until I found a rerun of Miami Vice and left that playing in the background as an accompaniment to my drifting thoughts.

  My eyes eventually became drawn to the symbols on the walls that had been scrawled there by Tia, the sorceress. I stared at the image intently for a few minutes, as if by doing so I might be able to absorb the shapes into my mind and unlock their secrets through mere familiarity.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  I went to the window again and looked out at the Society truck. It was already leaving, rolling toward the end of the street with Felicity’s personal possessions inside. One of the guys in black had stayed behind. He got into the Mini and backed out of the driveway before following the truck into the rainy night.

  And that was that. The house next door, which had been Felicity’s home for the past few months, was now empty.

  I went down to the basement, where my training area was set up. Sitting and staring at books all evening had made me edgy and I needed to expend some energy. I put my boxing gloves on and approached the heavy bag in a fighter’s stance. A few jabs and a left hook took me into a workout that soon had me sweating and breathing hard.

  The bag rattled on its chains with each punch. As my muscles warmed up, I increased the ferocity of my attacks, ducking and weaving to avoid hits from an imaginary opponent before following up with powerful hooks and lightning fast jabs.

  I didn’t stop until I was gasping for air and sweating so much I felt like I’d just stepped out of a shower.

  But I still wasn’t done.

  I dragged one of the training dummies to the padded area in the center of the room and took a sword from the weapon rack. Utilizing various lines of attack, I struck the dummy from different angles before retreating quickly to practice my footwork.

  After working on the dummy for almost an hour, I replaced the sword in the rack and stood with my hands on my hips while I caught my breath. Despite the intense workout I’d just had and the fact that my body ached, I still wanted more. But hitting inanimate objects wasn’t doing it for me; I needed something that would fight back.

  Since I’d killed the only monster I was aware of in the area—the ghoul at the Whispering Pines Cemetery—I didn’t have many options for a flesh and blood opponent.

  But maybe there was something else I could fight.

  I eyed the cupboard on the wall.

  Every time I’d used Excalibur, the sword had fought against my control, twisting in my grip and trying to guide my arm as if it were in charge of my body. I’d played around with the weapon a little in the past but I hadn’t actually used it for long enough to know if I could take control of the damned thing or if it was too strong for me.

  Time to find out.

  I opened the cupboard door and peered inside. The sword hung on its peg expectantly. That�
�s a weird way to describe a weapon but I could feel Excalibur’s anticipation flowing out of the cupboard. For all I knew, the damned thing was alive; it certainly felt that way sometimes.

  Wrapping my fingers around the red and gold thread that bound the handle, I lifted the weapon from the peg and hefted it in my hand as if testing its weight.

  “Okay,” I told it, “I’m going to attack that dummy but I’m going to pull my strike before I actually make contact. If you think you can force the blow to land, give it your best shot.” The last time I’d used Excalibur to attack one of the training aids, the sword had chosen to decapitate the dummy despite the fact that I’d been aiming at the chest.

  Taking the sword to the training area, I stood in front of the dummy and decided to attack the chest again and stop the momentum of the blade before it struck home. I’d be ready if Excalibur tried to change the line of my attack and strike the head or neck.

  “Here we go,” I said, stepping forward and swinging the blade at the dummy’s chest area. The sword didn’t fight me at all. I halted the strike mere inches from the surface of the dummy’s chest, exactly as I’d planned.

  I drew back and looked down at Excalibur in my hand. “You’re not going to fight? You’re just going to let me do what I want? I’m disappointed.”

  Attacking the dummy again, I aimed at the torso and pulled the strike. Again, the sword did nothing to fight me. It was just as inanimate as any of my other weapons.

  Except I knew Excalibur wasn’t like any other sword. It had a mind of its own.

  So why was it playing dead?

  I took a few more swings at the dummy, trying to coax Excalibur into life.

  Nothing. Maybe the sword had submitted to me without a fight.

  “You don’t want to play ball?” I said. “Fine, I’ll just put you back in the cupboard.”

  The sword began to vibrate in my hand and I felt powerful energy spread up my arm. It felt like my veins had been injected with electricity.

  I laughed. Excalibur hadn’t surrendered to me at all. In fact, it had been fighting me for power from the moment I’d taken it off the peg by refusing to follow the rules I’d set for our little game. I’d told it to fight me and it had refused. It had won by not participating.

  The only leverage I seemed to have over the sword was that I could put it away. Once I’d threatened to put it back in the cupboard, it had ended its charade.

  It obviously wanted to be in my hands. It was giving me some sort of energy but was it also drawing energy from me in some sort of exchange?

  That was creepy. I had no intention of entering into some sort of symbiotic relationship with a sword.

  I thrust it into the cupboard and closed the door. My workout was done and I had no intention of hanging around in the basement any longer.

  I ascended the steps and switched off the light. The basement was plunged into darkness.

  As I closed the door, I was sure I heard the sword whispering to me from that darkness.

  7

  I woke up the next morning, checked the time on my alarm clock and groaned. It wasn’t morning at all. It was almost midday. Last night’s workout had wiped me out.

  When I sat up in bed, my joints and muscles protested, sending waves of pain through my body. A headache loomed at the back of my skull. I hadn’t drunk much alcohol yesterday had I? Because the symptoms I was experiencing felt like a hangover.

  I’d only had a couple of beers so there was no way I was hung over.

  Climbing gingerly out of bed, I padded to the bathroom and took a cold shower. Maybe that—and a couple of Tylenol—would clear the cobwebs in my head.

  But almost an hour later, when I was standing in the kitchen and drinking my second cup of coffee, I still felt like I’d gone ten rounds with a Peterbilt truck.

  I went to the living room and sat on the sofa while I finished the cup of coffee. Outside, the street glistened wetly. The rain had stopped sometime during the night and the sun was shining in the dull gray sky but it didn’t look like it was taking the edge off the Fall chill.

  Maybe I’d caught a virus standing out in the cold rain last night.

  Damn, I hadn’t checked my phone for a message from Felicity and it was lying on my nightstand. That meant going back upstairs and enduring the throbbing in my head with every step.

  I had to know that Felicity was okay so I was just going to have to take the discomfort that came with moving. I got up and warily took a few steps toward the stairs. Pain bloomed in my head like a dark flower and I reached a hand out to the sofa to steady myself.

  When the throbbing had subsided enough that I felt I could move again, I let go of the sofa and stumbled forward like a child taking a hesitant first step.

  The dark flower blossomed and my legs lost all strength. I hit the carpet with a thud.

  Rolling over onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling and tried to regain my composure. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead and my breathing was shallow, making me feel light headed.

  This was no virus that a shot of vitamins would cure. Something else was happening here.

  Along with the pain in my head, there was now a deep throbbing in my right forearm. Maybe I’d twisted it when I’d fallen. I lifted it in front of my face to check for a bruise. What I saw was more than a mundane injury. Much more.

  The veins in my hand, wrist, and forearm had turned dark blue, almost black. The darkness snaked up to my elbow, where it faded away.

  Sitting up and leaning back against the sofa, I inspected my arm closely. The area that had been effected was the same place I’d felt the jolt of energy from Excalibur. Had the damned sword done this to me?

  I needed to call Merlin. Maybe this was a side effect of using the sword that he’d forgotten to tell me about.

  But I couldn’t call him. My phone was upstairs and I was pretty sure I couldn’t make it to the foot of the stairs, never mind ascend them and get to the bedroom.

  I was just going to have to wait it out and hope I regained my strength.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head against the sofa.

  “Alec.” The whispered voice slid into my mind like a hot knife slipping through butter.

  I knew that voice. It was the voice of the sword.

  “Go away,” I groaned. I didn’t have the time or energy for this crap.

  “Alec.” The voice was seductive, beckoning.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Alec.” The sword was persistent.

  “Get out of my head.”

  “Alec.”

  I should go down there and melt the damned thing in the furnace, turn it into a pair of candlesticks or something. Unfortunately, I didn’t even have enough energy to move so melting down legendary swords was out of the question.

  How long was I going to have to wait here until I got my strength back?

  Would it ever come back?

  Of course it would. All I needed was something to get me back on my feet.

  “Alec.”

  The sword knew what I needed. Was it offering me more of what it had given me last night?

  A jolt of that energy would feel good right now.

  My eyes moved to the door that led down to the basement. I might not be able to go upstairs to get my phone but going downstairs would be easy, right? Gravity would do most of the work.

  Leaning forward, I half-rolled, half-crawled to the door. Every muscle ached and every inch of progress was hard won. When I finally reached the door, I opened it and leaned against the wall while I regained my breath. Every beat of my heart made my head pound. I closed my eyes and waited for my heartbeat to slow down and for the throbbing to ease off a little.

  Two torturous minutes passed before I could open my eyes again.

  The stairs descended into darkness.

  Excalibur whispered to me from down there. It wasn’t saying my name anymore; the whispered words sounded like no language I’d heard before.

  I leaned
forward and I tumbled down into the darkness. When I hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs, the air was knocked out of my lungs and I struggled to catch my breath.

  The whispering was louder down here. The strange words meant nothing to me but their meaning was clear; the sword was offering me a jolt of energy. This weakness would disappear. I’d be strong again.

  Crawling across the padded training area floor in the dark, I could feel Excalibur’s power. The air around me hummed. Green sparks flashed in the darkness.

  I got to the cupboard on the wall and reached up for it. Just pulling open the door took a tremendous effort.

  I reached inside and my hand touched the blade. The sharp steel cut into my palm but I didn’t take my hand away. Energy flowed from the sword like molten electricity into my veins. I closed my eyes and accepted it. As it flooded through my body, I felt stronger than ever before. It hit my brain with a rush of euphoria that made me cry out.

  Getting to my feet, I wrapped my bloody hand around the sword’s handle and pulled it out of the cupboard. Excalibur and I were one. I strode into the training area and whirled the sword around my head, taking swings at imaginary opponents in the dark. The blade crackled and threw off green sparks as it sliced through the air.

  With this weapon in my hand, I could destroy anyone or anything that stood in my way. The prospect of taking down the entire Midnight Cabal was no longer a flight of fancy; with Excalibur in my hand, I could eradicate every last member of that hateful organization.

  I continued to attack imaginary foes, pivoting on my feet and moving the sword in intricate, spark-laced patterns in the air in front of me. My movements, combined with the delicate arcs of the blade, became a dance that fused man and weapon.

  When it was over, I was covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard.

  I felt amazing.

  Excalibur’s blade glowed dimly in my hand, as if reflecting light from somewhere even though the basement was pitch black.