“Enough! I didn’t waste my time and fortune only to have victory snatched from my hands by a few days! If it’s true that Seti has returned, then he couldn’t have gotten far. He would have no idea of where he is, of what the world has become in his absence. He’d stick out like a sore, half-naked thumb on the street. Find him.”
“I’m certain that he’s with my assistant, Logan—”
“Your assistant? Do you have any idea of what might happen if he talks to anyone about who and what Seti is?” Perry could hear the fury fueled by fear rising in Ethan’s voice. His carefully cultured tones became strained and strident. It was almost worth losing Seti just to hear Ethan Wilder lose his composure.
“I’ve already sent security to find them—”
“Kindly tell me you weren’t stupid enough to tell your rent-a-cops anything!”
“Of course not. I may not be the exalted Ethan Wilder, but I’m not an idiot. I told them my new assistant had stolen a valuable gold torc—the one Seti should be wearing. When they find Logan and Seti, they’re to bring them both back to me.”
“Everything we’ve worked for these last fifty years hinges on finding him, Perry. He’s an Immortal. The secret to everlasting life runs through his veins. I want that secret, Perry.”
“So do I, Ethan.”
“Then find him!”
“I will. But I need you to tap into your vast resources. Find out all you can about Logan Ashton, my assistant. Who are his friends? Where is his family? If security comes back without Seti, I need to know where to send them next. I need to know where Logan would go for help.”
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I get the information. And Perry? Do not fuck this up. Seti was your responsibility, and I will not let such failure go unpunished.”
The phone went dead as the connection was broken, leaving Perry listening to dead air.
Dead, just like Perry himself would be soon enough, if they didn’t find Seti. He’d been battling liver disease for years, hoping and praying that it didn’t kill him before Seti’s awakening.
Fifty years ago, five scientists working on a dig in Egypt had discovered a tomb buried in the sand. No pyramid marked the grave, and yet the sarcophagus had clearly been that of someone of high status. The tomb chamber was an anomaly—its seals had been completely intact with no signs of pilfering by thieves, and yet no artifacts aside from the sarcophagus had been found within it. No utensils or pottery, no riches that normally littered such a site were in evidence. Whoever the mummy had been in life, he had been buried without any of the luxuries he’d left behind.
Strange hieroglyphics had been carved into the base of the sarcophagus, markings that were not easily translated, even with the help of the Rosetta stone. But Ethan had worked on the translations day and night, and when the meaning had finally become clear, it had rocked the team to their cores.
Every one of them was aware of the legend of Seti, the king who had been cursed by his namesake god. No corroborating evidence had ever been found that indicated Seti had ever really existed, and yet the myth had persisted, references found in papyri scattered throughout the region. It was said that, cursed and entombed in his sarcophagus as punishment for his transgressions, Seti would walk the earth again after five thousand years, doomed to an eternity of wandering.
But now, gleaming in the lantern light of the dig was what the team was certain was the final resting place of Seti. The facts were irrefutable. The figure sculpted onto the sarcophagus wore a torc that not only signified the mummy within to have been a king, but the style of the torc dated the sarcophagus to a time before the Sphinx had been built. The hieroglyphics proclaimed him to be Seti, the one who had defied the god Setekh, just as the legend had claimed, and spoke of the curse in great detail.
Most interestingly, the sarcophagus had proven impossible to open. Crowbars snapped when applied under the lid. Chisels, no matter how hard they were hammered, could not move the lid a hairsbreadth. True to the myth of Seti, no man could open the tomb until the curse was lifted.
Could the rest be true as well? Would Seti awake in just another half century, fully restored after five thousand years? He would if Ethan’s translations of the hieroglyphics and his dating of the tomb were accurate.
It was a bet that the small group of anthropologists was willing to take. For fifty years, they’d kept their discovery a secret from the rest of the world. Perry used his position as a curator with the National Museum of Natural History in New York to secrete the sarcophagus away. It had remained hidden in the basement of the museum for a half a century, untouched and unviewed by anyone but himself.
Three of the team, Petrovski, Roman, and Hill, had left Egypt to pursue careers in academia, all three becoming full professors at prestigious universities. They’d lived comfortable lives, retiring within ten years of each other. Now all three lived in retirement communities in Florida, golfing and basking in the warm sun, waiting for their chance at immortality.
Ethan—the least scrupulous of all of them—had transformed himself from an anthropologist into a grave robber. He’d pillaged site after site, stealing Egyptian artifacts and selling them on the black market. Over the years, he’d parlayed his wealth into a fortune.
All the while, Perry had continued to slave away in the bowels of the museum, as poor as a church mouse, the ever-faithful watchdog.
He hadn’t cared. When Seti awoke and they had drained the secret of immortality from his veins, wealth would mean little. Perry would be a god.
Now the one slim straw Perry had been grasping at was gone, slipped through his fingers, and all because of Ethan’s egotistical claim that his data was foolproof.
Perry ground his teeth as impotent rage washed over him in great waves. Damn Logan Ashton! If he hadn’t been forced by Administration to take Logan on as an assistant, then Seti would have awoken to find Perry waiting for him, not that snot-nosed graduate student. Perhaps Perry might have been able to garner the secret of everlasting life from Seti before Ethan and the others were even aware that Seti had returned! Perry would have had the entire world at his feet and Ethan’s wealth in his pocket.
Now he’d be lucky if he survived long enough to see Seti recaptured, to witness what the miracle of his rejuvenation had wrought. Perry’s health was on a serious decline. His heart had been irreparably damaged by the treatment for his liver disease. The doctors had only given him a month or so to live.
Pain clawed at Perry’s chest as his anger grew. He removed a prescription bottle from his coat pocket. After fumbling with the cap, he shook a small white tablet onto his palm. Placing it under his tongue, he forced himself to relax and let the nitroglycerin work.
Perry slid the bottom drawer of his desk open. He removed a legal pad and an envelope.
It was only a matter of time before Seti would be found, and Logan with him. Unfortunately, Perry now realized that Ethan only needed Seti and no one else.
Not even Perry.
He’d been a fool to believe that Ethan would allow him to share in whatever miracle Seti’s blood had to offer. If his physical ailments didn’t kill him, he could be certain that Ethan would.
Removing his pen from his breast pocket, Dr. Lincoln Perry began the last letter he would ever write.
ETHAN HUNG up the phone, swiveling in his chair to look out of the window of his penthouse office at the city that sprawled at his feet.
He’d spent years trafficking on the black market at great personal peril, using his gains to set up bank accounts in Switzerland, offshore in the Bahamas, and a few fat ones right here in the States under dummy corporations. His plan was much simpler than his convoluted bank accounts. As soon as Seti was revived, he was going to drain him of every last ounce of his blood, dissect him under a microscope, and do everything and anything in his considerable power to isolate whatever it was that made Seti immortal. And then Ethan was going to use his findings to cheat death forever.
Of course, the other four mem
bers of his group thought the same thing, but Ethan knew they could never be trusted to keep secret their findings. He planned on killing them all once they were no longer needed.
As a matter of fact, with only a month to go until D-day, he’d already sent a couple of men down to Florida to see that Petrovski, Roman, and Hill didn’t live long enough to collect their next social security checks.
He’d thought to allow Perry to live a while longer. Ethan needed him to keep watch over Seti’s sarcophagus, but had decided that the moment the lid cracked open, Perry would be as dead as any of the fossils in the museum.
Now all Ethan’s carefully laid plans were at risk because of some idiotic, meddling graduate student who’d managed somehow to wake Seti and had spirited him away from the museum.
Dammit! Well, one thing was for certain. He didn’t need Perry anymore.
He picked up the phone and placed two brief calls, one to a man who owed Ethan a favor or two—a man with tissue-thin morals and a very big gun.
The other call was to a private detective agency that Ethan had dealt with on numerous occasions. They were discreet and trustworthy, willing to bend the law when necessary, and he put them on the trail of Logan Ashton and his new friend, Seti.
Chapter Seven
“IF YOU’RE selling Girl Scout cookies or want to recruit me for the neighborhood watch program, be warned that I have a very short temper and a very big Louisville Slugger.”
“Jason! It’s Logan! Buzz us in!” Logan said when Jason’s sleepy, irritated voice sounded on the apartment building’s intercom.
“Since when are there more than one of you?”
“Just press the freakin’ buzzer, Jase!”
As soon as he heard the annoyingly grating buzzing sound, Logan pushed open the dark green front door of Jason’s apartment building. Having seen its last best day sometime in the late sixties, the building was in sore need of more than a simple facelift. It needed a complete body overhaul, as evidenced by the cracked and water-spotted walls and the sagging bellies that decorated the ceiling of the stairwell.
Dim yellow lights flickered, casting the stairs with ochre shadows as Logan led Seti up the five flights to Jason’s apartment. There was an elevator in the building, but Logan didn’t trust it enough to ever use it. It wasn’t much more than a glorified dumbwaiter, creaking and groaning as it jerked itself up and down the elevator shaft. In Logan’s opinion, it was much safer to take the stairs and chance a heart attack than risk plummeting to his death in that sardine can that masqueraded as an elevator.
Apartment 509 was halfway down the hall on the left. Logan pounded on the door, impatient to get himself and Seti inside and out of sight. “Jason! C’mon, open up!” he yelled, banging so hard that he rattled the door on its hinges.
“Patience is not your personal virtue, is it?” Jason grumbled when Logan pushed past him the instant he unlocked the door, dragging Seti in along after him. “Who’s he?”
“A friend. Look, Jase, I’m in trouble.”
“He got you pregnant? You slut.”
“Will you just shut up and listen?” Logan snarled as Jason chuckled and locked the door. “This is serious.”
“Okay, okay,” Jason said, putting up both hands as if afraid Logan was going to take a swing at him. Truthfully, Logan was so wound up at the moment that it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. “What’s wrong?”
“I… well, it’s a long story,” Logan replied. “Suffice it to say that I no longer work at the museum. As a matter of fact, I’m sort of on the run.”
“Logan, what did you do?” Jason asked, his voice growing quiet. His eyes shifted from Logan to Seti and back again. “It has to do with him, doesn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah, it does. This is Seti, and he’s… well, he’s a lot older than he looks.”
“What’s his age got to do with anything? C’mon, Logan. You’re starting to scare me. Spill.”
“Okay, but you won’t believe me. The truth is that he’s a five-thousand-year-old mummy, and I’m in trouble for stealing him from the museum.”
Jason snorted, rolling his eyes. “Ri-ight. Okay, I don’t know what fossilized shit you’ve been smoking down in the dungeon, but I want some, and shame on you for not sharing.”
“Jason, I’m serious. I’m not high. I—”
“Must you defend yourself to this gnat?” Seti asked, standing tall next to Logan, scowling down at Jason. “He is annoying.” Logan didn’t know if he wanted to agree with Seti or kick him in the shins for being so damned arrogant.
“Jason is the one with a place for us to hide, Seti. You need to get off your high horse and be grateful that he even let us in the door,” Logan admonished. He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, bud. Really. He’s a little rough around the edges.”
“Rough? His edges could cut diamonds.” Jason frowned, looking up at Seti. “Listen, big guy, I’ve been friends with Logan since—”
“Friends. Do you mean that you are lovers?” Seti asked, his scowl deepening until his sleek black brows met, his eyes narrowing. Logan could almost hear Seti’s muscles clenching. Although why Seti was suddenly fixated on Logan’s love life was beyond him. He probably thought of Logan as his slave and was having proprietary issues.
“No, we aren’t,” Logan answered for Jason. “Seti, what’s wrong with you? We’re just friends, and anyway, that’s none of your damn business!”
“Why do you want to know?” Jason countered. “Are you two—”
“No!” Logan repeated, feeling his cheeks blush furiously. The sooner he steered the conversation away from that particular subject, the better off he’d be. He turned to Jason. “Where are Chris and Leo?”
“Interviews. So who is he really?” Jason asked, still frowning at Seti, who glared back, bristling.
“I am Seti, King of the Children of Set,” Seti answered pompously. “What of this Chris and Leo? Are they your lovers?”
“No, Seti, we’re not now and we never were anything more than friends! Will you please concentrate on the real problem?” Logan growled. “Us. Fugitives. Remember?”
“The Children of Set? What’s that? A cult?” Jason asked. He and Seti were eyeing each other like two dogs about to fight over a bone, making Logan exceedingly uncomfortable.
“Look, could we all please sit down?” Logan asked, desperate to get some space between Jason and Seti before one of them attacked the other. He knew without a doubt, after having witnessed the maelstrom in the bar, which the victor would be, and he didn’t want to see Jason hurt. Not only was Seti twice Jason’s size, he had powers that Logan couldn’t explain. “I’ve had a really shitty day, and I need a good, stiff drink.”
“You? Drink something more powerful than a draft beer? Shit, you really must be in trouble!” Jason said. He suddenly looked worried, as if he hadn’t believed a word Logan said up until that moment. “Come on. I’ll break out a bottle and you can fill me in.”
Seti only grunted but followed closely behind Logan as Jason led them to the kitchen table. Logan slid gratefully into one of the chairs, Seti taking the one to his immediate right. He looked out of place, as if he belonged on a throne instead of a spindly chair bought at Walmart.
Jason rummaged in the freezer. He removed a bottle of vodka, and returned to the table with it. He placed three glasses in front of him and then cracked open the bottle.
After pouring them each a stiff one, he slid a Flintstones grape jelly jar in front of Seti. Logan rolled his eyes, glad that the prehistoric reference was lost on Seti.
“L’chaim,” Jason said, lifting his glass.
To life. How appropriate, Logan thought, tossing the shot back. He noticed Seti sniff the liquid, his lip curling in distaste. “If you don’t want yours, I’ll take it,” Logan said, reaching for the jelly jar.
Seti snatched it out of his reach, frowning at Logan. Tilting the glass to his lips, he drank it down. The look on his
face was priceless as the alcohol burned a trail to his stomach.
Sheesh. He looked ready to snap my fingers off if I touched his glass, Logan thought. Then again, he silently admonished himself, if I’d gone five millennia without a drink, I’d be a little testy too.
“So tell me, Logan. What gives? What’s this guy got to do with you being in trouble?” Jason asked, pouring them all another round.
“I told you the truth, Jason. He’s a mummy who was under a curse—”
“Jesus, Logan! What did I do to make you think you can’t trust me with the truth?” Jason snapped, slamming the bottle down on the table.
Seti shot up from his chair, his eyes hard, glaring at Jason. Logan grabbed his arm, pulling on it. “Sit down, Seti. He’s got a right to be upset. It does sound preposterous, you know. All of this.” Relief flooded him as Seti sat again, if reluctantly. Honestly, the man had a hair-trigger temper.
Logan realized Jason was never going to believe him. Hell, Logan wouldn’t believe Logan either, if he hadn’t seen the sarcophagus and Seti’s little storm trick in the bar with his own two eyes.
“Seti,” Logan said, sighing, “Can you give Jason a small demonstration? Nothing major, like the one in the bar. Just enough to show him what you can do.”
Seti looked annoyed. “Why must I prove anything to him? He claims to be your friend and yet doubts your word.”
“Please, Seti?” Dammit, Logan hated having to beg, but it was crucial Jason believed them, or Jason could find himself in trouble for harboring a pair of fugitives. He wanted to be certain Jason knew exactly what he was getting himself into by helping them.
Seti huffed but looked over into the living room. There, sitting next to the sofa, was a large fish tank in which a pair of large pale blue angelfish swam. Seti pointed a finger at it, his lips moving silently.
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