“What about the woman…”
“She’s a detail in the background of your life. Static, nothing more. Ignore the bitch. Get the scarab.” The hissing of her voice made the hair all over his body stand.
“You make it sound so easy, but I’m not a soldier, I am a seer.”
The she-demon groaned deep in her throat and the air rumbled like an earthquake. Her stench intensified. “You are my hands and feet on earth. Trust that I am behind you. Trust my power.”
Did he now have her demonic energy behind him? He already knew this, but he didn’t believe it until now. Brushing at the cold sweat flowing down his forehead into his eyes, he tried to swallow again, but the fires of hell had left it too dry.
“Demon. Shall I call you that? Or what should I call you?”
An odd chortling sound came from her perfectly shaped lips. “I have had many names since the dawn of time. Your ancestors called me Ammit. But, that sounds odd now. I like to keep up with the times. You may call me the Darkness of the Night, the Evilest of the Evil, the End of All Hope… or you can simply call me ‘Soul-Eater.’”
She laughed again. “Has a ring to it, don’t you think?” A long, reptilian tongue flashed out and licked her wide lips slurping hideously. The hair on the nape of his neck bristled. Red spittle dripped to the ground from her mouth. The blood of her victims?
Another soul-ripping shiver coursed through his body. His stomach sank to his knees. “Soul-Eater, tell me what to do. I will do your bidding, but I need your help.”
“Aaaaah, a willing soldier. I like that.” Her eyes blazed. “Yes, I think you will do nicely.”
He waited for her to say more, but she strode around the room checking everything out.
She stopped directly in front of him, her face within inches of his. “You must follow your father’s plans carefully. Help him. Let him steal the treasure. Then take it, by any means. Kill him if you have to. That scarab will seal your fate.”
“The woman?”
“Again with the woman! She doesn’t matter. Fuck her if you want. Kill her if you want. But don’t bother me about a mere mortal with goodness in her heart.” She trembled when she said the word goodness. Then her mouth twisted into an ugly grin.
“If you must know, the key to getting the wench to do what you want is to enter her dreams. That’s what your mother did. The woman has a recurring nightmare that takes place in Africa. It makes her particularly vulnerable, because her emotions open up when she sees a baby about to be sacrificed. You enter then, and you can feed on her fear and anxiety. You can bend her will and she won’t even know it.”
Visit her in a nightmare? Intriguing. He still couldn’t let it go. He had to let the soul-eater know how dangerous Sadie was on this plane. “She has her own power. She could stop my father.”
The Soul-Eater raised her head. “Yes, the woman will try to do that, but Bakari al-Sharif will not be stopped by a pretty face. He will bend every rule in the universe to acquire the power he needs. Like son, like father.” She chortled again. More blood spittle fell on his shoes.
Khalid resisted jumping back. He was part of her world now, a minion of the forces of darkness. He must accept all aspects of it, if he were to use its power. “Where shall I take the scarab?”
“You will need to create your own sanctuary, a place where you can practice your skills and grow stronger; a place the forces of light will have difficulty finding. I would suggest Egypt, because it is my motherland, but for you Amsterdam would be better. You know the city and its people. Find a place to hide and conjure.” She shuffled her feet and clawed the floor. “But…”
Khalid stopped breathing, waiting for her to say more.
“There could be a complication.”
“What?”
The Soul-Eater nodded her massive head from side to side, stomped her foot and vanished. The smoke that flooded the room dissipated in seconds and Khalid stared at empty space. Only a few drops of blood on his shoe were left to remind him of what had just happened.
His nose felt wet and he touched it. Blood flowed down his fingers and pooled on his shoes mixing with the demon’s blood. What the fuck?
38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sadie snuck out of bed at first light. Sebastian caught up with her in the shower and their lovemaking started all over again.
A couple hours later, she lay sated in his arms back on the bed. “Sebastian I need to get going.”
He grumbled.
“I have a job to do.”
More grumbles.
“Bakari plans to steal a priceless Egyptian relic from Highclere castle. I have to stop him.”
He grumbled a third time and propped himself up on one of his elbows. “And you’re the only one who can?”
She grumbled. Her turn.
“Sadie, listen to me. Let the locals take care of it.”
“They’re involved, but no one has gotten as close to Bakari as me. I have the best chance of stopping him, or, at the very least, finding out his plans so someone else can stop him.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight. You’re going back to that geiten neuker. You’ll bat your eyelashes and expect him to tell you everything.?” Goat fucker was Sebastian’s favorite name for Bakari.
“Not exactly, but sort of.”
Sebastian rolled on his back away from her.
“I have his ear. He listens to me. He…”
“Wants to fuck you.”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point.”
“Not to me.”
“Sebastian, I can handle him. I know what makes his heart tick. I’m half-way to convincing him to give up on this.” That was a bit of a stretch, but that’s where she wanted to be.
“Handle. That’s my concern. Who exactly is handling who? I don’t want his hands on you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Someone poisoned you.”
“It wasn’t him. He doesn’t want to hurt me.”
“Not yet, but Sadie…” He paused. “He’s an evil son of a bitch. He already knows you used to work with the CIA. Once he figures out you’re playing him again, he’ll kill you. The man shows no mercy.”
“I know. I know. He doesn’t understand the concept. You don’t have to tell me this. I understand Bakari al-Sharif.”
“Then why?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about the man. I told you, the only reason he stole the amulets before was that he wanted to save his dying daughter. Her health did improve, but it’s declining again. He really believes King Tut’s scarab will help her. The only thing that’s important to Bakari is his family. Rashida is his favorite daughter. He would do anything for her.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“But I do. I’m trained to find the weakness in people. I know his and I know how to use it.”
“So the guy has a glimmer of love in his stone heart. So what? He’s an asshole who puts guns in the hands of children. He’s volatile and unpredictable. Walks around like a fucking grenade with its pin half pulled.” He exhaled noisily. “And, god dammit, he wants to screw you.”
Back to that. “Sebastian, I love you. Isn’t that enough.”
“Fuck, no.”
“I’ve got to go. If you’re still around when my op’s over we can hook up again. But in the meantime, stay out of my way.” She got up to take another shower but stopped herself. Sebastian would join her again and they didn’t have any time left for play. She started hunting for clothes. “Oh shit, I forgot I came in a hospital nightgown.”
Sebastian said nothing.
She gave him her narrowed-eyed, get-over-it look.
Ignoring her, he stared at the ceiling. His cheeks flamed red. A sheen of sweat from their love making lingered on his crinkled brow.
“I have clothes at Bakari’s house. I’ll just have to arrive as-is.”
“In pajamas?” He thumped his hand on the bed and sat up. “Do you even have a plan
?”
“I’m working on it. I’ll head over, reinsert myself into his household, and figure out things from there.”
Sebastian shook his head. His long sun-kissed blond hair looked wild in the morning light. She wanted to pull her hands through it, wanted to hold him close again, wanted to feel him inside her. One more time. Damn the man got under her skin. His eyes, bluer than blue, implored her to stop.
But she couldn’t.
***
Twenty minutes later a taxi dropped her off in front of Bakari’s London home. Elizabeth greeted her at the door with a dour expression, even more sour than the one she wore the day before, as if Sadie was yesterday’s bad news. It hadn’t bothered her to drive in the taxi in her hospital gown, but when this woman gave her the once-over, she felt naked to the core. With one hand she held the open back of the nightie closed and straightened her shoulders.
Bakari walked forward to meet her. Chasisi watched from the open entrance of the office.
“We’ve been looking for you.” Bakari’s voice held concern, not anger. That was a good thing. The maid slid away.
“I didn’t feel safe in the hospital. I don’t know who poisoned me or why. So I left and stayed with a friend.”
“Sebastian Wilde, your lover.”
“Sebastian Wilde, my former lover. I knew I could trust him.”
“You can trust me.” The word “me” echoed in the foyer with a threatening force.
She put up her hand to stop him. “I know I can trust you, Bakari, but someone in your household tried to kill me. I don’t feel safe here.”
“So why did you come back?” Chasisi’s voice crossed the foyer
Sadie ignored Chasisi and kept her eyes on Bakari. “I wanted to fly straight to New York, but my passport and clothes are here. And…” How could she word this and make it sound real? “I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”
A glint of light slid across Bakari’s dark eyes. The fine muscles in his face relaxed.
Elizabeth reappeared with a white cotton robe folded over one arm. She handed it to Sadie. “I’ve asked the cook to put the kettle on.”
“Thank you.” Sadie released the back of her gown and slid the garment on. Pulling it tight with the belt, she gave Bakari an appreciative smile.
39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“I’ll take my tea in my room,” Sadie said to Elizabeth. Turning to Bakari she added, “I need to sort myself out.”
He nodded like a gentleman. “Stay and get some rest. You will be safe here and I will visit you later.”
Chasisi, still standing by the office, glared at her. If glares were knives, his was a machete. With as much grace as she could muster in bare feet and a borrowed housecoat, she ascended the stairs. Near the top she stopped on the spot where she’d fallen the day before. The visceral memories flooded back. Nausea, weak knees… blackness. No hint of who’d done the poisoning, though. No memory of anyone watching. She continued up the stairway.
Once inside her room she took a deep breath. Was Bakari’s weird son still hanging about? Had he poisoned her? Khalid definitely acted as if he had a few missing synapses in his head, but how would you expect a young man with Bakari’s blood to behave? Many believed his mother to be a sorceress descended from a long line of adepts who followed ancient Egyptian rites and rituals. A shiver stole up her spine. The sooner she could end this op, the better. There was something seriously creepy about dealing with Egyptian amulets.
The tea arrived. She lounged in a chair by the window, smelled the drink, tasted it and then gulped it down. The tray of small sandwiches and sweets she ignored. It could still be Elizabeth or the cook. Besides she didn’t need the empty calories. There’d be time for eating later. Scanning the room she saw a new camera on the wall. Great.
Bakari didn’t arrive, which surprised her. Did he have too many plans to make? She took a quick shower and put on a low-cut, black dress. With her make-up in place, she headed back downstairs.
She stopped at the bottom. Male voices came through the closed door of the office. She listened for a couple minutes. At least three men. The front door of the house opened and Khalid entered. He smelled of weed, but his body didn’t have a relaxed stoned look. He glanced her way, nodded then shifted his eyes away, as if eye contact with her was forbidden. She upgraded him to seriously weird.
“I heard you were poisoned,” he said.
Hello to you too. “Would you know something about that?”
His mouth turned up into an insipid smile and he shrugged. “Weird shit happens around my father.”
As if on cue, the office door opened and Bakari strode out with all the majesty of a king returning to his court. Khalid watched his father, not like a devoted son, more like an adversary waiting his turn to rule. Interesting dynamics.
Bakari looked at Sadie. “My brother Chasisi is trying to find who poisoned you.” His olive colored skin pinked. “He thinks it may have something to do with that renegade group of Egyptians who have sworn an oath to protect the Emerald Tablets. I’ve never heard of them.”
A shiver scaled her spine. She nodded. “The KOTL, the Keepers of the Light. A possibility.”
“You don’t look surprised.”
“As a spy I have made many enemies.”
“You don’t live a safe life.”
She laughed. “Safe is boring.” Giving him as provocative a look as she could muster with Khalid in the room she closed the distance between them.
“He says they are not to be ignored.”
“I never ignore bad boys.” She smiled. Oh that sounded cheesy, but given the dull ache that remained in her head it was the best she could do.
Khalid cleared his throat. “I don’t think you two need me.” He walked up the stairs.
Bakari reached for her arm. The soft touch, meant to comfort, sent a cold chill into her heart like an arrow from Satan’s bow. “Come into my office and we’ll talk to my security people.”
Yes, the office. She wanted to dance, but kept a solemn expression as she let him lead her into his sanctuary. Attached to the dangling earrings she had been wearing since she arrived in London was a bug. Her company cell-phone remained strapped to her inner thigh. Things might work out after all.
Chasisi, Dead Eyes and another man stood when they entered the room. The unknown man looked to be in his early twenties. He had military-short black hair and Mediterranean coloring. He dressed in black and wore combat boots. Must be one of the foot soldiers.
Sadie walked towards Chasisi and offered her hand with a forced smile worthy of a cheap magazine cover. “Good to see you again.”
Dead Eyes grunted and sat.
Chasisi made a small bow and sat. He crossed his long legs.
She took her hand back and felt her smile widen. “I like a man who shows his feelings.”
Chasisi lit a cigarillo and blew smoke into the air. The soldier lowered himself with regimental dignity into the chair beside him and looked at the floor.
Cozy. Looking at the soldier-guy she said, “I’m Sadie Stewart, the poison victim.”
He nodded, looked at her briefly then returned his gaze to the floor.
Bakari ushered her to a chair beside his brother. “You’ll have to excuse the grimness of my men. They are extremely good at what they do and yet my security has been breached twice in twenty-four hours.”
“Twice? Was someone else poisoned?”
“No.” Bakari searched her face.
She held every tiny muscle in her body under control to keep an innocent look in place, knowing that his bull-shit meter was unparalleled. “What then?”
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Are you sure? I’m really not in the mood for dying. Getting poisoned really sucked.” She turned and bored her eyes into Chasisi. “Can’t you do a better job?”
All eyes turned to the head of security, to see how he’d react to her brazen question. Sadie pretended to adjust her
right earring as she slipped a bug onto her finger and into her hand. Step one—achieved.
Chasisi’s lips curled. “Rest assured, madam, you will not be poisoned again.”
She smiled at the fact that he didn’t say she wouldn’t be killed. Only that it wouldn’t be poison. Turning her anger to Dead Eyes she stood and said, “And what about you? Can’t you do something?”
All eyes turned to the henchman as she slid the bug under the edge of Bakari’s table and threw up her hands in disgust. Step two—done.
Old Dead Eyes grunted. This one, lower in tone. He had a whole grunt vocabulary.
Sadie sat and gave Bakari a doe-eyed look. “I don’t know how I can help you. I told the police everything I know. After dinner I walked up the stairs, had a sudden, violent stomach cramp, fell and then everything went black.”
Chasisi blew more toxic smoke into the air. “What can you tell us about KOTL?
“Not much.” She grimaced.
“One of their assassins tried to kill you a week ago, and you know nothing about them? Weren’t your friends at the CIA concerned?”
“Like I told Bakari, I have enemies. There’s little information available about the assassin or his group.” She shook her hair behind her shoulders. “For now, I consider it a dead end.” She sighed. “Well…” She paused for drama, “More than that really. I consider it a warning. Someone out there wants me dead.” It wouldn’t hurt to play the helpless female. Judging by Bakari’s body language, especially the way his face softened. He was eating it up.
Chasisi—not so much. He blew more smoke in the air. “The man swallowed cyanide.” His tone was as matter-of-fact.
“Have you learned more?” Her throat started to close as it did when danger neared. Perhaps they had better intel than the Venice police and the CIA.
“Not yet. I want to know why that group wants to kill you.”
Ancient Danger: Mata Hari Suspense Series #3 Page 17
