by Allie Burton
“Don’t believe everything you read.” He flicked a finger at the wall, disgust written on his face. “Propaganda.”
“What is the Magical Order of Crucis’s relationship to the Society of Aten?”
He glanced left and right checking to see if anyone was listening. “Usually they’re at odds with each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“This way.” He took my hand and led me through an entrance with worn wooden doors large enough for a horse and carriage. “They compete for members, knowledge, and artifacts. Magical relics used in their secret ceremonies.”
“Like the trumpet of war.”
“Exactly.” He tugged me through an exhibit space featuring a large sarcophagus made of stone, and a shelf filled with Canopic jars and figurines.
I wanted to stop and read the information—after all, knowledge is power—but he pressed on.
“If the societies compete, and the Society of Aten is holding my grandfather, than why are we at the Order’s museum?” The reasoning didn’t compute. Granted, I didn’t know a lot about ancient Egypt. I was learning on the run, literally.
“There’s been communication between the two groups. We think they’re working together.”
“Why?”
We entered another exhibit. This one held an actual decomposed mummy lying on a slab bed. Gross.
“Don’t know.” Falcon didn’t even glance at the mummy. “The Society of Aten is based on Tut’s father’s religion. They believed in only one god, the sun god.”
“The first monotheistic religion.” I remembered the fact from the book I’d read at the warehouse when I’d learned about Falcon’s god.
“The high priests of Egypt didn’t enjoy losing power, so when Tut became pharaoh as a boy they convinced him to go back to the old ways, worshipping many gods and goddesses. That’s where the Order came in.”
The next exhibit displayed fragments of rock on the wall from an ancient house of worship. Musical instruments were etched into the walls.
The urge to play hit, a surprise slug. I’d forgotten about the need to play the trumpet. Distraction was working.
My shoulders tensed. “Do you know where we’re going?” I sounded uptight and angry—the trumpet trying to take control.
At least now I recognized when the trumpet tried to play me. Control me.
“The storage area is near the back.” He pushed open a side door and we headed down the stairs, following the signs to the cafeteria.
“Hungry?” I couldn’t believe he was thinking about stopping for lunch. We needed to find Grandfather and get back to the warehouse. What if one of the warriors played the trumpet?
“Always, but the cafeteria is near where we need to go toward the back of the building.”
The hallway narrowed. The plain, white walls closed in on us, making me feel like a live cat buried in a pyramid.
“By the storage area.” I nodded at the cameras on the ceilings. “How are we going to get access?”
“We’ll block the cameras if we need to.” He’d obviously done this before.
I was trusting him to know what he was doing. To get us out safely.
Even though I stepped lightly, my feet trudged, imitating an elephant. The sound echoed in my chest with a thump, thump, thump.
We reached a door marked Employees Only.
Falcon slipped a can out of his jacket. Shaking the can, he pointed the nozzle toward a camera above the door. He sprayed the lens black. “Hopefully, no one is watching the camera at this moment.”
“Hopefully?” Fear trilled in my high-pitched tone. I couldn’t believe we were risking our lives on a hope and a prayer.
He pressed on the metal bar on the door.
I tensed, waiting for an alarm to sound.
Only silence.
My shoulders dropped in relief.
He pushed open the door and we both went inside. With the spray-paint can in his hand, he painted two more cameras in the hall.
We moved forward. Past the back entrance to the cafeteria’s kitchen, and past the employee break room filled with lockers and time cards.
Falcon stopped before passing a small room with a large window. “Security room.”
Anxiety crept across my skin, raising tiny bumps. “How’re we going to get by?”
“Crawl?” He arched one brow, making his expression comical. “Wait a sec.” He peeked in the large window.
I held my breath. What if the guard spotted him?
“It’s empty.” He dropped his shoulders in a slouch. “Why isn’t a guard in there?”
“Lunch break?” I didn’t care why the security room was empty, I was glad we could continue.
“I guess.” Falcon didn’t sound so sure.
We hurried past the security room and stopped in front of two grey, metal doors. The sign indicated this was the storage area.
“Even if the two groups are working together, why would the Society trust the Order of Crucis to secure Grandfather?” Whispering as we walked, I tried to put the pieces together in my mind. Was one group trusting the other like I was trusting Falcon and the warriors? Blindly?
“Leverage? Fear? Money?” Falcon sprayed a few more cameras and then twisted the handle and inched open the door.
My stomach wobbled. Anxiety stirring its contents similar to a high priest’s brew. We peeked inside.
The storage area had rows of metal shelves with boxes and crates stacked in an organized fashion. A large, rolling garage door leading to the loading dock was at the far end of the room. The storage room was silent.
“Weird, no one is working back here.” He edged into the room, being cautious. “It’s as if everyone was sent on break, or something.”
Crates large enough to hold a person were spaced throughout the room. A selection of mummies leaned against a wall.
“Good for us.” I entered behind him and whispered, “Grandfather?”
Wariness sent a cold tingle down my spine. Fear followed with a blast of heat. I couldn’t worry about my emotions. If Grandfather was here, I had to find him.
“This feels wrong.” Falcon pointed near the loading dock doors. Boxes were tossed haphazardly. “Why would most of the storage area be organized and yet that section’s a mess? There’s been a struggle.”
I didn’t care about the group’s organization skills. I moved farther in. The dust hit the back of my throat, squeezing tight. “Grandfather!”
“He could have something over his mouth.” Falcon followed closely behind.
I frowned. “They wouldn’t want him alerting an employee who wasn’t involved.”
He flipped open a large box and peered inside. “The employees are believers. Though most wouldn’t be aware of the illegal activities like stealing artifacts and kidnapping.”
My dry throat scraped raw. “None of them are going to like us poking around in here.” I ripped open another box.
“Keep searching.” Falcon picked up a crowbar and pried open a mummy case.
Cringing, I waited to see what was inside. Half hoping and half not-hoping Grandfather was hidden there.
The case was empty.
Swallowing, I pushed back the disappointed-relief. I wanted to find Grandfather, but not locked in an Egyptian coffin.
I moved to another section and lifted another wooden crate lid. “Too bad we didn’t have x-ray vision so we could scan the crates.” I wasn’t even joking. That superpower would be more helpful than leaping into the air.
“Yeah.” Falcon pried open another mummy.
Opening another box, I found it empty. I was about to turn away when I spotted a small, clear, crinkled wrapper at the bottom. My stomach flipped.
“Caramels!” I grabbed the wrapper to convince myself it was real. “Caramels.”
“Are you hungry?” He shot me a look that said I was crazy.
Excitement exploded inside of me. I wanted to jump up and down and shout. “These are Grandfather’s favorite candies.
He always carried a few in his pocket.”
The day I’d moved in, he’d shown me his stash in his desk drawer and offered to share. I hadn’t realized that was his way of telling me this was my home now, too. My eyes burned and I forced back the well of tears. I wanted to find Grandfather. I wanted him home, but most of all I wanted to feel his arms around me in a hug.
Falcon moved to my side and I let his warmth infiltrated my suddenly-cold skin. He peered in the box. “You think the wrappers were his?”
“Makes sense.” The excitement at finding proof sparked in my head. “Your contact suggesting we search here. Jeb seeing us heading south. The caramel wrappers.”
The storage room door banged open.
My excitement crushed under the weight of the noise.
“Hey!” A deep voice shouted.
I gaped at the large security guard standing by the door, then I glanced at Falcon.
His eyes rounded and his face paled. “Run!”
He jumped up and over one of the metal shelving units. I followed. I didn’t even think about my special powers. Just used them as if they’d been there my entire life.
“Stop!” The guard ran toward us.
We vaulted over another set of shelves. Landing near the smaller door beside the large, rolling loading-dock doors, I pushed the handle to head out. Falcon shoved the metal shelving with its stored crates and boxes toward the guard.
The fallen shelf and debris blocked the guard’s path to the door.
Falcon ushered me out the door and I sucked in the fresh air. We’d escaped.
A black SUV sat in the loading dock with the back door open.
My nerves screamed inside. The same type of car my grandfather had been kidnapped in.
Falcon yanked me behind a dumpster. He put his finger to his mouth in a shush motion.
Everything slowed to a Comodo tempo, like time had slowed.
Two men struggled with a third. This man, the one being pushed into the car, had greying hair and a shaggy beard.
A jagged shock bolted through my heart. “Grandfather.”
Falcon squeezed my hand signaling me to stay. His chin pointed at the two guys standing at the end of the loading dock by the road. They each had a gun in their hand.
We didn’t have superpowers to combat bullets.
The pain in my heart escalated, digging deeper.
The two men pushed Grandfather into the back of the SUV. One of the men crawled in the back with Grandfather.
The second man scanned the area as if sensing my stare.
Jeb.
He held a gun in his hand and his lips turned up in an evil grin. A grin that said he’d won this round.
He pointed the gun toward us.
Chapter Twenty-One
Falcon
Every muscle in Falcon’s body tensed. The barrel of Jeb’s gun pointed right at Aria. The urge to leap over the dumpster, throttle Jeb, and save Professor York thundered through Falcon’s bloodstream. He couldn’t risk Aria’s or the professor’s life with a boneheaded move. He smashed one fist into the other hand.
Control yourself, Falcon.
Remnants of anger and pain from Aria playing the trumpet yesterday still battered him. The renewed desire to play the trumpet himself eroded his internal strength. Desire for Aria weakened his willpower.
Professor York was only a few feet away. The prize needed to pry the trumpet away from Aria’s misguided fingers. Misguided by the trumpet of war. She’d promised to give up the trumpet for her grandfather before the trumpet had completely controlled her will. Falcon would force her to keep her promise. It was best for her and the world.
The instrument was safely tucked away at the warehouse. The warriors wouldn’t destroy the trumpet because whoever had played the trumpet would suffer the consequences. That meant Professor York, Aria, and himself would succumb to the trumpet’s poisoning of their bodies and souls.
The guard, who must’ve gotten past the spilled shelf, rushed out the back door, searching for the intruders. Searching for them. The guard’s gaze encountered Jeb’s standing by the vehicle. The guard’s face paled and he stepped backward into the building, not wanting to mess with Jeb. Mess with his plans.
That Falcon understood.
What he didn’t understand was Jeb’s presence at the Crucis Museum. Normally at odds, the Society of Aten and the Order must’ve joined forces in their greed to gain the trumpet of war. Which only gave them more resources and more power.
Ominous clouds gathered in Falcon’s thoughts like right before a thunderstorm.
Staring in their direction, Jeb pulled the trigger. A bullet whizzed by.
Ducking back, Falcon grabbed Aria and pushed her farther behind the dumpster.
The ping of the bullet echoed off the metal. He heard the slam of car doors and the squealing of tires. The black SUV reversed out of the loading dock.
Falcon crouched and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. The phone didn’t turn on. He banged it on the concrete ground.
“What’re you doing?” Aria grabbed his hand to stop his banging.
“I wanted to take a picture of the license plate so Olivia could find out who owns the car, but my phone isn’t working because it got wet in the stupid fountain.” Another reason to hate Muscles.
“The Society owns it.” Aria’s voice shook. She must’ve recognized the car used to originally kidnap the professor.
“In whose name?” That’s what Falcon wanted to learn.
Who was the big shot in charge of the Society of Aten? It had to be someone with connections to the authorities.
Police sirens sounded in the distance. The noise swirled in his head, urging him to take action.
Aria stood slowly. “Do you think the guard called the police?”
“He did whatever Jeb wanted him to do.” By the expression on the guard’s face, the man had recognized Jeb and knew he was someone not to mess with.
A mechanical, whirring sound caught Falcon’s attention.
He looked up. Straight into the security camera. “We need to get out of here.” Because now the authorities would have both his and Aria’s photos. And the police had arrived.
Squeezing his hands into fists, he gave a low, angry, growl. Anger scorched his pissed-off disposition. Nothing was going right.
Two squad cars sped in from different directions and squealed to a stop, blocking the loading dock. They were fenced in. Trapped.
Limited options ambushed his brain. They’d have to show the cops their powers. There wasn’t any other choice. “Aria, jump over the dumpster and cop cars.”
The cops got out of their cars, their handguns at the ready.
“What!” Her face paled and she leaned away. “Are we bulletproof?”
“No. Just fast.” Faster than a speeding bullet? Probably not. He couldn’t show her his doubts.
“Which way?” Her tone trembled.
He wanted to comfort her, tell her everything would be okay, but he wouldn’t make false promises. Too many people had done that to him.
A couple more squad cars peeled in. The cops were pulling out all the stops. Why? For a couple of teens who’d broken into the storage room of a middle-sized museum? Not likely.
No time to puzzle it out now. A group of cops dressed in black moved forward.
“Remember the rose garden we saw on the way here?” At her nod, he continued. “Go that direction.”
“Okay.” The single word came out in a whisper.
He bent at the knees and watched her do the same. “Ready? Go!”
Waiting a tenth of a second, he watched Aria launch herself into the air. He followed closely behind, ready to dive in front of her if a bullet was shot in her direction.
The thought struck him like a projectile and exploded. He’d take a bullet for her.
His heart throbbed. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, in this life or his earlier life. Before or after playing the trumpet. He’d sacrifice himself f
or Aria. And if he didn’t save her from the trumpet, both of them would suffer.
Flying through the air, he didn’t even notice the wind in his hair or his height from the ground. He kept his glance trained on her and the police with the guns, while his mind clicked in a million directions.
In this life, he’d pledged to help Olivia and Xander and now, even if only in his mind, he’d committed to save Aria.
Sure, he’d agreed to help her find her grandfather to appease her and to win her trust and to get the trumpet. And instead, he’d given her his heart. He grew dizzy, and it wasn’t from flying through the air.
Aria landed with a hard thud in front of a small, cottage home across the street from the museum. She fell to her knees.
Wishing he’d had more time to train her, he redirected his jump to land beside her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. That’s the farthest I’ve ever jumped.” Her eyes brightened. Her cheeks were red from the flight. Her expression shone with excitement, making her beauty more pronounced.
He remembered how he’d felt when he’d first discovered and exercised his skills.
“Keep moving.” No time to ogle her gorgeous face.
A cop stationed in front of the museum spotted them. He pointed and got on his walkie-talkie, reporting their location.
Falcon helped Aria to her feet, wishing that their flight was over so he could take her in his arms and hold her close. But they were still running. “Ready?”
Nodding, she leapt into the air resembling a dancer. Her feet pointed. Her arms reaching upwards. Her face beaming.
The beam struck him like the sun. He basked in her warmth.
“Hands up!” The shout came from his right.
He clutched his fists to his sides, too angry at himself to even worry. He hadn’t even noticed the cop’s approach because he’d been staring at Aria. Again.
Ignoring the cop’s command, he leapt into the sky and, following Aria, he landed inside the rose garden.
The fragrant smell assaulted his nose. So many roses in varying colors of red, purple, white and yellow surrounded them. He didn’t realize roses came in so many colors.
“It’s beautiful.” Aria’s split-second smile struck his heart.
