Immortal Dynasty (4 page)

As he left the room, his mind bristled at the injustice. He too craved a challenge, a test of wills. He strolled through the private gallery rooms, which contained an extensive collection of antiquities safely encased within glass boxes or hung on the wall like decorations.

His mind burned at the insult to such brilliantly crafted weapons. Instruments of strategy and power now relegated to uselessness.

He ran his fingertips across the leather hilt of an ancient sword. Cold, but it was still as strong as the day it was crafted for combat. He could almost smell the battlefield.

Therion was born to battle. The dark blood of his father pulsed wickedly through him even now. His destiny was denied to him on so many fronts. He savored the anger.

Jewels sparkled in glass cases everywhere. All of them were useless to him. There was one jewel out there in the world that held the key to his destiny. A black diamond. He’d been told that it contained his immortal powers. He’d felt it too. Felt it calling to him in the darkest hours.

He needed to change his shirt before picking up his date for the night. She was a luscious brunette with violet eyes, but she would be no challenge to him. He would get little satisfaction from his time with her.

As always, he was drawn to the far end of the room, where a golden statue of an Egyptian war goddess stood like a guardian over the gallery. A true masterpiece, it held an intense fascination for him. Her unique, exotic features made his blood pulse more quickly through his body. He cupped her golden breast. It fit perfectly in his palm.

“Good evening, doll,” he whispered.

He cursed his fate. He should have been born in another time, in an age where kings ruled by blood or by the might of their army.

She was only a lifeless statue, but she evoked the kind of images in his mind that satisfied his lust for a challenge. Closing his eyes, he savored the fantasy.

Desert sands billowing behind a speeding chariot while his enemies lay like a bloody blanket across the valley floor. A great sword would fill the grip of his hand as he held it aloft. His fierce war cry would embolden his army and terrify the enemy. He would have been the ultimate hunter. The ultimate king. If only he’d been born when he should have been.

Reality rained across his mind. The breast against his palm was cold and hard, but tonight he’d find real satisfaction: one way or another.

* * *

Flashes of light toyed with Shaila’s consciousness behind sightless eyes. Muted sounds broke into her hazy awareness. Like a babe in a womb, her life was suspended.

A voice spoke to her through the veil of shadows. A human voice. His words were muffled and distant. Warmth spread across her breast, but it made her mind scream in frustration. She longed to roar with rage. Despair, as always, set in, reminding her of failures of the past. Did she belong here? Trapped? Trapped in a cold, dark hell?

Only memories soothed her ravaged mind. Images flashed of bright sunlight and golden mountains. She could almost feel the warmth of the sand. Horses thundered across the plateau, as the wheels of the chariot squealed in protest. Shaila reined in the wild mares to slow their pace. She wanted to hear the laughter bubbling from beside her. Her best friend was shouting for them to go faster…and faster. Thinking of Nefertiti brought joy and pain to her soul.

She prayed for Nefertiti’s child to survive this awkward path to the future. He was the messiah of the prophecy, and Shaila had promised to protect him. He was destined to save them all.

Of late, the textures of sounds had become more vibrant and bold. She had never stopped feeling the vibrations of the world, but the rhythms of conversations and movement had changed. Their pace quickened and intensified.

Had they reached the age of the prophecy? Her astral spirit, her immortal spirit, had not returned to her. She reached out with her mind to the dimension where her spirit should be waiting, but she found only darkness in the plane where light once shone with brilliance. Yet, a great shift in the balance heralded a change coming.

Oh, Goddess. Is it time? I can’t wait much longer.

Only deafening quiet answered her.

* * *

Seventeen hours ago, his world had seemed to derail and crash into a different dimension. Darius massaged the back of his head, trying to rub some sense into it.

For the past half hour, Darius had waited impatiently for his friend to meet him on the platform of the Green Line. The brisk October wind helped to cool his nerves. Goose bumps spread across his arms. He drew in deep breaths of air and waited for his brain to clear. It seemed like a stadium full of kids poured out of the archaeology building at Boston University.

As usual, the professor had his face buried in the front section of the
Globe
. If Marcus didn’t look up soon, Darius was going to be peeling his friend off the front of the bus barreling down Comm Ave. Amazing how smart the professor was, but he didn’t have enough sense not to get plowed by a bus.

“Marcus!” Darius yelled over the dull roar of rush hour traffic.

 
“Momma’s been wondering when you’re coming for dinner. She’s still on her personal mission to fatten you up.” Marcus inclined his head toward the white knuckled grip Darius held on a set of keys. “What’s up? You look like hell.”

“Thanks for noticing.” Joining the mass of commuters, they herded into the closest subway car of the T.

“Anytime.” A frown gathered across Marcus’ face. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on vacation? You know…sand, shades, suds.”

Time was too important to waste. “I need your help.”

He hated to admit that out loud. But he did need help, and Marcus was the only other person on this planet that he trusted completely besides his grandfather.

“What did you say?”

“I said…I need your help.”

“Sure, you do.” The frown changed to a more skeptical look. “You’ve never needed my help before. That’s your problem, you know. You never ask for help. You’re the type who always--”

“Marcus, can we please drop the psychoanalysis of my life?”

After hanging on to the poles for several stops, they were finally able to snag a couple of seats.

“Okay. What do you need?”

“Backup.”

“Excuse me?” Marcus leaned in more closely.

“I need your eyes, Marcus. I need someone to cover my back.” Darius looked his friend square in the eyes. “I only have about twelve more hours to finish preparing for a very important job.”

“And I have a very important job that I’d like to keep. Thank you very much.” Marcus held up two fingers. “Make that
two
very important jobs. If my boss at the museum knew your name, I’d be out of that job in a heartbeat. Guilt by association.”

“Join the club.” Darius reined in all of his energy to tamp down the surge of aggravation. He glanced at his watch. Seventeen hours and ten minutes since his grandfather had disappeared through a black hole. He slipped his hand inside his jacket and squeezed the medallion.

“So, what do you need to
acquire
this time?” Marcus emphasized by doing the finger quotes in the air.

“It’s
whom
I need to acquire, not
what
.” Darius knew his eyes openly showed his pain. For once, he didn’t care to hide his emotions. “I have to strike quickly, before they prepare for it. It’s too important and too challenging for me to do alone. I really need your help, Marcus. Please?”

Darius watched the tunnel lights flick by. He could feel Marcus studying him intently.

“Spill it, Dare. What’s going on?”

The lights of the Boylston Street underground platform came into view. The subway jerked to a halt. Darius ground his teeth together. “Are you in or not?”

“You know I’m in.”

“Papa Shadi. He’s been kidnapped.”

“What?” They dashed out of the subway car before the doors slid closed again. Marcus mouthed a few curse words. “You aren’t joking, are you? Who…why would anyone want to kidnap Papa Shadi?” Marcus grabbed him by the shoulder. “What makes you think I can help?”

For a moment, Darius allowed a hesitant smile to curve his lips. Here was a topic that could take over his mind for a while and keep the emotions at bay. “Follow me.”

Four city blocks and one plaza later, Darius led them through a kids’ arcade. In the back of the darkened room, they passed through a door leading to a stairwell. Instead of taking the stairs up, he pulled Marcus behind the staircase, lifted up a metal grate from the ground, and motioned for Marcus to follow him.

In the pitch black, Darius unerringly found the switch and flicked it up.

As Marcus’ eyes adjusted to sudden brightness, his jaw dropped to his chest. “Holy. Shit.” The words were barely spoken loud enough to hear, reverently, as if they were standing in a cathedral. “You have seriously been holding out on me.”

“This is my private research lab.” It was a large room, taking up the same amount of space as the game room above it and the neighboring karate studio.

Marcus mimicked him, “
This is my private research lab
.” Then, he glared at Darius. “This a fuckin’ state-of-the-art computer system! I haven’t seen this much silicon since my summer job with Microsoft. Damn it, I am so pissed that you’ve never shown me this before.”

Darius shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t have a need…until now.”

“Sorry, Dare.” Marcus skimmed his fingertips across the silver keyboard slowly. Three huge wall screens flickered to life at the slight touch. “Now I understand why you’re the best repo man. Can she tap into the Navy satellites?”

Darius expelled a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He realized that he was grateful for not having to do this alone. “Let me introduce you to ALICE. Short for Autonomous Logistics and Intelligence Collection Engine.
”

* * *

Darius needed to hurry.
 
Dawn was only an hour away. Quickly, he positioned a clean license plate over the old one and clicked a magnetic sign on the van door. After smoothing a wrinkle out of the fictitious paint company logo, he tucked in behind the wheel.

He and Marcus had both spent most of the night programming ALICE to take over control of the security video feed at the Troy Estate. A second computer screen would help Marcus keep track of people moving around the estate using thermal imagery. Another continual audio and video stream would appear on a third screen from a camera mounted on Darius’ cap.

Marcus was a true man of science. Darius couldn’t blame the guy for not quite believing that demons had kidnapped Papa Shadi. Up until thirty hours ago, he hadn’t believed any of it himself. He’d just always chalked it up to the ramblings of an old man whose head was so full of ancient prophecies and modern conspiracies that he finally believed them.

“Dare, this is sick how you’ve made this computer so easy to work with.” Through the earpiece, Marcus’ voice came through as clear as if he was sitting in the van next to Darius.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I can’t believe I just watched you steal a van. Is that considered aiding and abetting a felon? You know, for a guy who doesn’t really own much more than a Harley, you sure are good at taking things from others.”

“If you don’t own something, it can’t be taken away from you.”

“You’re a sad case, Dare. A shrink would have a field day with you.”

“Shut up, Marcus.”

“Okay, but you asked me to do this, so you have to put up with me. Consider me your official annoying sidekick.”

Darius grinned. It helped his mood to picture his best friend squirming on the other end of the video feed.

Marcus’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “I just checked the fresh satellite images. Damn, this is better than Google Earth. There are quite a few work vans lining up in the alley behind the Troy Estate already.”

For a break in, this should be a cakewalk. Darius had been elated yesterday to discover through some cursory research that Lilith Troy was not only planning for her annual gala, but she was doing some major remodeling at her estate for it as well. That meant an army of carpenters, decorators, and painters coming and going. He could virtually hide in plain sight.

“Excellent. I’m ready to blend with the crowd.”

“I hate to break it to you, buddy. But you never blend in. Tall. Lean. Bald. You’re like a frickin’ seven foot tall Vin Diesel.”

Darius chuckled as he swung the van into the line up of work vans. “I’m not seven feet tall.” He was, however, confident that he’d blend in today. He wore a basic white polo shirt and a pair of old faded jeans with various paint colors splotched all over them. Then, he topped it all off with dark shades and a faded Red Sox hat.

Parking the van in a spot that would be easy to get out of was challenging. He cursed the narrow, cobblestone alley. The best spot turned out to be at the end of the alley, furthest away from the entrance. Just in case he ran into any more of his demon pals, he’d worn a belt with a very useful buckle. He grabbed his worn backpack, containing a few tools he might need to break into or out of something, and then joined the parade of workers filing in through a large, warehouse-like entrance.

“That door seems to be at the opposite end of the house from where you want to be, Dare,” Marcus whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper,” Darius whispered. “The earpiece is inside my ear. Nobody else will hear it.”

“You’re whispering.”

Darius looked up at the sky. Too bad Marcus wouldn’t be able to read the disgust on his face. The satellite zoom was good, but not that good. He could hear Marcus cursing at himself.

The flow of workers streamed into the house through a long hallway, which emptied into the main ballroom. Darius moved purposefully past the crews polishing marble flooring, hanging gauzy draperies, and carving designs into Greek columns. He noted workbenches and tools around the room. Wheeled trash bins were stationed around the room to dispose of things without ruining the newly marbled floors.

Even the porte cochere teemed with activity. Many embellishments were getting a good coating of gold paint. It seemed a Grecian theme was taking shape for the Troy Cosmetics Annual Gala.