“Hold onto that, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Lucas accepted the daggers and held them in one hand. He reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out the cigarillo case. But when he opened it, he saw they were still too damp to light. Lucas groaned and shoved the case back into his pocket.
Elisa returned a few minutes later with two small duffel bags hanging from each shoulder. She set one down on the ground and handed the other to Lucas. Elisa took the daggers and placed them in her bag.
Lucas tested the weight of his bag. “This doesn’t feel empty.”
“Travel empty-handed, you look suspicious.” Elisa cringed. “Oh crap.”
“What?”
“I took my passport and wallet from my bag before we boarded the jet-skis. But what about you?”
Lucas flashed a smug grin and reached into his back-pocket. He produced a wallet and a US passport. “Please, you think I go anywhere without these things on me? I’m no amateur, Elsie.”
“Good, then let’s hurry,” said Elisa. She and Lucas walked through the doors of the airport terminal. “Won’t be long before Roland—”
A few airport security guards walked towards them and Elisa noticed that none of them looked to be of Polynesian ancestry. They quickly surrounded the pair. Elisa’s jaw slackened while Lucas grit his teeth in annoyance. One of the men removed his hat, revealing short, blond hair.
“Won’t be long before I do what?” asked Roland. “Hand over your bags to my associates.”
Elisa and Lucas did as they were ordered. The guards patted them down for any weapons and when they confirmed both were clean, they looked to Roland and shook their heads.
“That was quite a chase you led us on. But it’s over now.” Roland focused his attention on Elisa. “You should have accepted Mr. Clarke’s offer, Elisa. You could have made a good deal of money. Instead, now you’re in the exact same position as Davalos. And I promise you that Mr. Clarke does not have an abundance of patience where these matters are concerned.”
“So what’s Clarke going to do with us?” asked Lucas.
“That’s not my place,” said Roland. “I’ll let him decide how he’ll deal with your betrayal. Both of you.”
The guards took hold of Lucas and Elisa by the arms. Roland led the way, moving them past the guard stations and through security without any interference from the airport’s actual security staff.
“I had a feeling you would come here eventually, so while I had some of my men chase after you, the rest of us came here and made sure we’d be ready to intercept you,” said Roland. “Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t smart enough to see this coming.”
“Just kill us and get it over with,” said Elisa.
Roland chuckled. “Oh no, that’d be too easy. We know your friend is investigating the Necronomicon, we’ve got someone on her right now, following her every movement. Mr. Clarke wants you both to see how foolish you were to doubt his beliefs. Once he’s finished with you, then he’ll kill you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lucas.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” said Roland.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Asami rented a car from Green Airport in Warwick, Rhode Island, and set off. Her destination was just outside Charlestown, where a psychiatric hospital was nestled among the forests. When she saw the sign for August Psychiatric Hospital, she knew she was on the right track. She drove up the road to the hospital’s front gates and parked her car.
She walked up the path to the hospital, staring up at the structure. It was smaller than she expected, looked more like a country club than a mental institution. Asami entered through the front doors and approached the receptionist desk, where a middle aged woman in white smiled up at her. The name tag pinned to her top read EDITH.
“How can I help you, miss?” she asked with a jovial attitude.
“Hi, I’m here to visit a patient.”
“Sure, what’s the name?” Edith faced her computer, readying her hands to type in the name.
“Derek Hudson,” said Asami.
Edith paused and the smile faded for a brief instant before almost instantly returning. “Just a sec, dear.” She typed the name into the computer and after the result came up, she looked back at Asami, but her smile appeared tighter than before. “I’m so sorry, but Mr. Hudson isn’t receiving visitors at this moment.”
“Are you sure?” asked Asami.
“Why do you need to speak with him?”
“Well, I’m a grad student at the University of Rhode Island,” said Asami. “I’m doing my thesis on HP Lovecraft and Dr. Hudson did a lot of research on him. I was hoping I could pick his brain a bit.”
Edith shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. If you like, I could have his doctor explain more to you.”
“That would be great,” said Asami.
Edith picked up the phone and dialed an internal extension. “Hi, Dr. Bell. This is Edith at the front desk. There’s a young woman here who’s requesting a visit with a patient of yours named Derek Hudson.” Edith paused and listened to Bell’s response. “Yes sir, that’s what the records said. She’d like to speak with you instead. Of course, thank you.” Edith hung up the phone and looked up at Asami. “He’ll be out in a minute. Would you like to have a seat?”
Edith gestured to a small waiting area with a long couch along the floor-to-ceiling window next to the front doors. Asami nodded and went to sit. She crossed her legs as she waited. Patience was not Asami’s strong suit, but she knew she would have to put up with it until she got some answers.
Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long before a man in his fifties in a suit approached her. He was bald and wore wire-framed glasses. “Are you the woman who asked to speak to Dr. Hudson?”
“I am.” Asami rose from the couch and offered her hand. “Mai Suzuki.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Suzuki. I’m Dr. Bell, Dr. Hudson’s primary psychiatrist. Can I ask why you’d like to speak to him?”
“As I was telling Edith, I’m a grad student at the University of Rhode Island. I just wanted to talk to Dr. Hudson about his work on Lovecraft.”
Bell sighed. “I’m sorry you wasted a trip, Ms. Suzuki. But I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“Dr. Hudson’s breakdown had to do with his work on Lovecraft. I’m worried that any discussion about that topic could trigger a relapse.”
Asami took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on maintaining subtlety. But that was never one of her virtues. “Oh screw it, I hate undercover shit.”
Bell cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Excuse me?”
Asami balled her hand into a fist and delivered a right hook that knocked Bell off his feet. Edith screamed but before she could reach the phone to call security, Asami crossed the distance to the reception desk. She jumped and as she soared over the counter, scissor-kicked Edith in the face, knocking her down. Asami looked at the computer and saw the Edith hadn’t cleared Hudson’s information from the screen. The room number was listed as 304.
Asami cast her eyes around the room and saw the reception area opened to the larger hospital area past the locked doors. There was a stairwell to the right and she ran for it, darting up the flights of stairs and stopping at the door on the third floor landing. She opened the door cautiously and glanced around. Once she saw the coast was clear, she calmly stepped out and moved down the hall. When she reached the room with 304 carved on a wooden plaque, she opened the door and closed it right behind her, ensuring it was locked.
All the lights in the room were off and Derek Hudson sat facing the window, staring out at the setting sun. Asami moved in front of the window and knelt down before him. Hudson was about sixty with short, blond hair that was turning gray with age. His blue eyes were fixed on her face, but they seemed to see nothing in particular.
“Hudson, I don’t have a lot of time here,” said Asami. �
�I’m not even sure if you’re all there, but I need your help.”
There was no reaction in his eyes.
“Maybe this is useless…” she muttered. “Look, I’m trying to find out about the Necronomicon. I need to know what you know. A friend of mine tells me that you might know where I can find it.”
At the mention of the Necronomicon, something flashed in Hudson’s eyes. They now focused on Asami and it was like he had just realized he wasn’t alone in the room. “Ne…cro…no…mi…con…” He tested each syllable in a whisper, like he was trying to recall a forgotten memory.
“Yes, that’s right. The Necronomicon. Tell me where I can find the book.”
Hudson shut his eyes and shook his head. “No, no book.”
The door handle wriggled. It was quickly followed by pounding from the other side. “Open this door!”
Asami threw her head back in frustration. “C’mon, don’t feed me any bullshit. It’s real, isn’t it? You found it, didn’t you? Or you know where I can find it?”
“No!” Hudson’s anger rose with his volume. “Not a book!”
The pounding grew louder. Asami tried to maintain her patience. “Okay, not a book. Fine. What is it?”
“The Akashic Records. It exists in the ether. You just have to know how to see it.” Hudson slowly brought his hands from the armrests of his chair and unbuttoned his pajama top. After undoing the final button, Hudson pulled open his shirt and Asami pulled back in stunned silence. She could barely hear the door now.
Hudson’s bare chest was covered with scars, but as Asami stared at them, she realized that they weren’t random scars. Instead, there was a method to it, and as she examined the scars and saw that the scars formed Arabic script.
“Bikkuri…” she muttered. “Is this the Necronomicon? Did you carve it onto your body?”
“Kept seeing it…had to write it down…” said Hudson.
At that moment, the door burst open and several well-built orderlies stood in the hall. Bell pushed his way past them, rubbing his jaw and staring at Asami in rage. “Just what the hell are you doing?”
Asami stood and held up her hands in a sign of diplomacy. “Listen, I’m sorry about clocking you, but it looks like I was right to do it. Hudson knows something that could put him in a lot of danger. He’s not safe here.”
Bell stepped back from the doorway and pointed at Asami. “Kill her. Do not harm the vessel!”
The orderlies had to enter the room one by one. Asami jumped over Hudson’s head, tackling the first orderly to the ground. She moved from him to the second orderly, her hand transforming so that when she reached him, her claws tore through his white scrubs and into the flesh of his chest. He fell back against the third. Asami kicked him in his freshly-formed wounds, the force knocking both of them out the door. Bell and the other orderlies backed away from the door.
When Asami emerged from the doorway, her appearance was that of a humanoid fox. The remaining five orderlies held batons in their hands. Asami stood before them, growling, her copper eyes blazing with anger. She raised a clawed finger and beckoned to them with it.
A bald orderly charged at her, raising the baton. When he brought it down, Asami grabbed it before he could connect and drove a fist into his solar plexus. She took the baton as he fell to the ground and used it to deflect the strike from the bearded orderly who came at her next. Once deflecting it, Asami jammed the baton against his throat and he choked then fell. Asami swung the baton low at the third orderly, knocking his legs out from under him. He fell on his back and she hopped on his chest, then jumped off and pounced on the fourth, who toppled under her weight. Asami grabbed him by his shaggy hair and slammed his head against the floor.
The final orderly struck her while she was busy with the fourth, crushing his baton on her back. Asami fell face-down into her handiwork. She planted her palms on the linoleum and stood on her hands, wrapping her legs around his neck. She locked her ankles behind his head and struggled with the grip for a moment. Once she was confident it was firm enough, Asami pulled him crashing down, releasing her legs just before he landed on his colleague. She was on him in an instant, her claws tearing out his throat.
Only Bell was left. Asami panted, her lips curled back to bare her fangs at him. He was too scared to move, but the kitsune had no such reservations. She pinned him against the wall, her hand wrapped around his throat, claws pressing into his flesh, but not enough to draw blood…yet.
“Level with me, Doc,” she said. “What was all that talk about the vessel, huh?”
Bell struggled to speak and Asami loosened her grip just enough so he could talk. He stared at her with a mixture of fear and contempt and said, “Half-breed whore!”
Asami growled and grabbed his bald head, banging it against the wall. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Bell cringed, pain radiating from the spot where he had been hit.
“Somethin’ tells me this isn’t a typical asylum, is it?”
“Psychiatric hos—”
She slapped him. “Yeah, yeah, I heard that story already. Now start explaining. What’s the deal with Hudson, why does he have all those symbols carved into his body? Either you tell me what’s really going on here, or I practice my kanji on your flesh.”
“Hudson discovered the forbidden verses, the ones that not even the Dark Priest was permitted to see,” said Bell. “This place is a cover for our activities. We need Hudson to complete the rituals.”
“What rituals? Who’s this Dark Priest you mentioned?”
Asami’s response came not in words, but in the form of the invisible force that pulled her from Bell and pinned her to the ceiling. She was fixed in that position and if she tried to move, her body was pinned even harder.
The fluorescent lights flickered and she struggled to see the figure who approached down the hall. He wore dark robes and his head was concealed by a hood. His hand was outstretched, fingers tensed. Asami couldn’t get a clear view of his face, but she could see the unholy emerald glow that she assumed was his eyes.
“Let me guess…” she said. “Mr. Dark Priest, I presume?”
The shadow of his hood fell just short of his mouth and she saw the grim smile grow over his face. “An unclean, this is extremely fortunate.”
“‘Unclean,’ huh? I’ll have you know I shower twice a day.”
“Your hygiene does not concern us, half-breed,” said the Dark Priest. “It is your blood we seek.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The plane from Tahiti was chartered by Roland and he took six members of his team onboard with him. Elisa and Lucas were kept restrained on the trip, their hands bound by plastic zip-ties. Roland kept Elisa’s kukri daggers for himself, affixing the sheathes to the back of his own belt.
The prisoners sat towards the rear of the plane, with Roland and his men sitting near the front, their guns always held at the ready. Lucas leaned over to Elisa. “Have I thanked you yet for getting me into this mess?”
“Me? If you hadn’t stiffed Clarke, none of this would’ve happened!”
“And if you hadn’t come after me, Roland and his goon squad wouldn’t have followed you!”
Elisa sighed. “Don’t worry, Davalos. Next time I find out your life’s in danger, I’ll just leave you to the vultures. Assuming we get out of this alive.”
“Pretty big assumption at this point, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, probably. But it’s not over yet. Clarke’s still got something in mind,” said Elisa.
“Sounds like he’s also got someone tailing your girl,” said Lucas. “There’s not one part of this I like.”
“Just stay frosty, okay? We’ve been in situations like this before. Remember that time in Peru?”
Lucas chuckled. “Ahh yeah. You thought we were dead for sure.”
“Right, and remember what you told me?”
Lucas scoffed. “‘Stay frosty.’ Damn, we had some good times, didn’t we, Elsie?”
Elisa tried to
suppress the grin. “Yeah, yeah we did.”
“Aww shit…” muttered Lucas, hitting his head against the back of the seat.
“What?”
“Usually, you’d say you don’t remember any good times. If you’re agreeing with me now, then that must mean death is pretty goddamn imminent.”
“Maybe I’m just becoming nostalgic.”
Silence arose between the pair for a few moments. Lucas broke it by asking another question. “So you still doing that professor thing?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Well…for now, anyway.”
Lucas sat up and looked at her with concern. “What’s that mean?”
Elisa shut her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“C’mon. I could always tell when you’re hiding something.”
“I’m under review,” said Elisa. “They’re thinking about terminating me.”
“The hell? You’re a freaking genius, why would they want to get rid of you?”
If Elisa didn’t know any better, she would have sworn Lucas seemed angry. “Believe it or not, teaching at a university comes with certain responsibilities. Like publishing papers and teaching classes.”
Lucas scoffed. “Y’ask me, place like that’s too tightly-wound for you. Life of a myth hunter doesn’t mix well with a day-job.”
“Max was able to do it…” she muttered.
“Yeah, and you’re not him. I know you’ve got this whole Mr. Miyami thing going with him, but—”
“Mr. Miyami?” asked Elisa.
“Yeah, Mr. Miyami. The Karate Kid, remember?”
Elisa snickered. “That’s Mr. Miyagi, you idiot.”
Lucas clicked his tongue. “Miyami, Miyagi, whatever. The point is you’re not Finch and you never have been. I saw you out there. Not only when we were working together, but even when we were at each other’s throats, like in India. Or just now in Bora Bora. You’re a spitfire, Elsie. Always have been. You can’t just turn that off.”
Curse of the Necronomicon (The Myth Hunter Book 3) Page 6
