Nefertiti’s Curse: An Urban Fantasy Read online

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Xavier said.

  “When the MSA asked me if they should allow you in the country, I decided to read your file. I had heard of you of course, but I did not know that your father was Thaddeus Hill the professor. I studied his work in graduate school. He had a wonderful mind.”

  “I’m hoping he still does.”

  “It seems we are both missing people we love.”

  “I am sorry about your family.”

  “Are you here about Leclerc?”

  “Yes. My companion down there says you can give me some insight into him and his connection to Baynin.”

  Astrid looked down at Howling, who was flirting with a woman riding a stationary cycle.

  “I see he’s found one of the MSA agents who followed you here. He’s a strange one.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “We do not have a file on him.”

  “Neither do we.”

  “I did not notice anything about him that might indicate what he is,” Astrid said.

  “Maybe he’s just human.”

  “Far from it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The eyes are wrong. That’s always a giveaway.”

  “Are my eyes wrong?”

  “Your eyes are the kind that would have had me out of my knickers in a flash fifteen years ago.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you then.”

  “What would you like to know about Leclerc?”

  “I was hoping you could help me understand why he keeps trying to capture me.”

  “We are not sure. It’s part of a pattern of unusual behavior he’s been displaying recently.”

  “Like what?”

  “A little over two years ago the daughter of one of our most influential politicians was kidnapped while she was on holiday in Lysefjorden. Her name is Cella Arnstad. There was evidence of vampire involvement and we feared she might have been turned. Our government launched one of the largest womanhunts ever, but we could not track her down. Then roughly a year ago Leclerc contacted the woman’s father claiming to have rescued his daughter. When he returned Cella to her family, he gave the father some cock story about it proving that vampires are not monsters and deserve basic rights.”

  “The father was already aware of the supernatural?”

  “Not before then. The story he had been told was that his daughter had been kidnapped by religious militants.”

  “How did he react?”

  “About as badly as anyone who discovers that monsters are real and their beloved government has been lying to them about their missing child. A month after Leclerc returned his daughter, he restarted his campaign for Prime Minister, but with different rhetoric than he had ever used before.”

  Xavier was now starting to understand the flurry of political contributions that Maya’s file indicated Astrid had been recently making. “So Leclerc came out smelling like a rose?”

  “Only to Cella’s family. Even when we showed them evidence of Leclerc’s child trafficking, they would not hear a sour word about him. They left us no choice.”

  “No choice about what?”

  “Not a single person who was familiar with Leclerc believed the woman he delivered to the family was the same as the one who had been kidnapped. She had the right DNA and there were no outward signs that she had been turned, but it did not pass the test of common sense. We thought she might have been a new species of vampire or some other kind of biological weapon.”

  “Wait, so you took the woman from her family again?”

  Astrid nodded toward the floor. “That is her on the treadmill, with the red top. The large gentleman behind her are private security guards hired by her family.”

  “She can’t leave this building?”

  “She is allowed supervised excursions. You must understand that she suffered an extended exposure to the Nosferatu virus. Like all industrialized countries, including yours, our normal protocol is to sanitize known infections. Bringing her here was a political compromise.”

  “Is that why this facility is so much nicer than the rest of the campus?”

  “Yes. Cella’s family has turned our humble little institute into a luxury retreat.”

  “How is all this connected to Baynin?”

  “We believe the kidnapping and the rescue were Baynin’s idea. We know that he has engaged in similar tactics in other countries using almost the exact same wording as the message Leclerc gave to Cella’s family. You should have a look at the surprising amount of funding and good luck that is falling upon the candidate who will be running against Senator Glen Corman next year. We think this bit of theater was the price Leclerc had to pay for Baynin’s fruit.”

  “What do you know about Baynin?”

  “Probably not much more than you do. He started showing up on the radar a few years ago. We are not certain of the extent of his capabilities, but we know he can manipulate pockets of space-time and circumvent most wards. My sources tell me he is a Keeper.”

  “A Keeper? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”

  “They are the race of beings that God created to maintain the Garden of Eden. Most of the older texts refer to them as The Keeper’s of the Lord’s Forest.”

  He would have found that notion shocking if he had not witnessed Baynin’s power firsthand. “Do you think Baynin’s fruit is from the Garden of Eden?”

  “Everything I can find claims that all travel between the two realms stopped after God closed the East Gate of Eden about two thousand years ago.”

  “Maybe it was only closed for certain people.”

  “My sources insist it was closed for everyone, including Keepers.”

  Xavier looked over at her. “Your sources seem to be very well informed.”

  “Indeed, they are,” she said as she clicked her D-ring onto her harness for the trip back to the floor.

  “This was very helpful. I really appreciate it.”

  “An eye for an eye. Please pass my warmest regards and gratitude to Isabella.”

  The day before Xavier’s arrival in Norway, a local gypsy priestess had come to Astrid’s home with information that would be of great assistance in locating Astrid’s missing family members.

  “I will,” Xavier said, clamping on his own harness. He paused before saying, “If you are interested, I know a healer who could help you.”

  She touched her fingers to her scarred cheek. “Thank you for the offer, but I will stay this way until my family is safe again. It helps me remain focused.”

  “I understand,” Xavier said. He hopped down off the ledge and pressed his soles against the rock wall to match Astrid’s position. “I hope I wasn’t out of place.”

  “I will not break if you blow on me too hard.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Let’s hear it then,” she said.

  He hesitated. “The file the DSO keeps on you has a note that says: Strong feminist. Careful what you say.”

  She laughed. “How graceful of them. And a gold star for getting access to it.”

  “I have sources too.”

  “What is it you would you have said to me if you had never read that?”

  “I would have said that your scar makes you more beautiful than you already were.”

  “And you were afraid to say that because you think I’m a feminist?”

  “Uh...well,” he stammered. “I didn’t want to offend you or anything.”

  “How would you feel if I said I thought you were smart for a black person?”

  “I would feel like cutting your safety rope.”

  “Remarks that imply a woman’s value is tied to her physical appearance make some of us feel the same way, regardless of the intention behind them.”

  “I guess I never looked at it that way.”

  “Most men are not socialized to. Since I am aware of that, I would not have automatically pushed you off the ledge. Besides, if you saw my file, you already know t
hat my brain is the sexiest part of my body.”

  She grappled away, blowing him an air kiss as she went.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Washington, DC

  Michelle was frustrated. Her investigation into possible connections between Baynin and the inhabitants of the Self Governance Zone had hit a wall.

  Baynin had made four known trips to the SGZ. One was to visit the grootslang, which was now dead. Another was to visit a Derzalas bantu, a being that no one at the DSO knew how to communicate with. His last two trips resulted in both DSO assets in the SGZ being struck with blindness and deafness.

  To her secret delight, Carlos had recommended making Xavier Hill the central vector of her investigation. But that had turned out to be less productive than she hoped. Nearly everyone with whom Hill had a first-degree connection communicated over some kind of quantum encryption that not even the NSA could crack.

  She was considering admitting to Carlos that she had reached a dead end.

  Then, while flicking through photographs in her file, something occurred to her.

  She logged into the NSA’s Omnivore system and typed in Zina Daniels’s social security number. Her screen overflowed with data, including a tab with direct access to the messages and photos that the target’s phone had synced to the cloud.

  Bingo.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Firestone, New Jersey

  After a ninety-minute drive up the New Jersey Turnpike, Howling parked their car in front of a small building with an orange neon sign that said Jersey Devil Tanning.

  “We’re here,” Howling said.

  “Is this a joke?” Xavier asked him.

  “What? I told you where we were going.”

  “You said you were taking me to a hotspot near New York.”

  “Did I lie?”

  “Do I look like I need a tan?”

  “Is this a racial thing?”

  “I’m going to ask you again in case I stuttered the first time: Why would you bring a black man to a tanning salon?”

  “Aha! It is a racial thing. We’re here because you need to go in there and take a test.”

  “What kind of test?”

  “The kind you can neither pass nor fail.”

  “What type of doublespeak is that?”

  “I can’t tell you any more,” Howling said without his usual levity.

  Xavier shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

  “Actually,” Howling said, “I’m going to sit this one out. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

  Xavier studied him. “What are you not telling me? Who or what is in there?”

  “Read the sign.”

  Xavier read the sign again. “You have got to be kidding.”

  * * *

  A bell chimed when Xavier walked into the reception area. A perky young receptionist said, “Hi! Welcome to Jersey Devil Tanning!”

  Her demeanor changed after she got a good look at Xavier.

  “Is this a racial thing?” Xavier asked her.

  “Wait here,” she said before disappearing through a pair of curtains behind the reception desk.

  Xavier was browsing through the tanning brochures when a baritone voice from behind him said, “Come with me, Xavier Osiris Hill.”

  He looked up to find one of the largest men he had ever seen holding open the curtain behind the reception area. The giant had a bald head and a skin tone that made his race difficult to discern. He didn’t smell human.

  Xavier followed the man down a corridor lined with three closed doors on either side that all said Booth 6 on the outside. Two of the doors had a soft white glow around the frames. A pungent odor fouled the air.

  The end of the corridor brought them to an elevator door with no buttons that Xavier could see. After a few moments of awkward silence, the door slid smoothly open, revealing an elevator car with every surface covered in mirrors, including the ceiling.

  The pair stepped into the car and Xavier noticed right away that he was not surrounded by ordinary glass. Every mirror pane displayed a reflection of himself at various younger ages. He was particularly drawn to the reflections that showed him as an infant. In some of these panes, there was a manicured hand with a skin tone the same as his gentling rocking his crib. In others he could make out Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics on the walls.

  He also noticed that his escort had no reflection at all.

  After an unnervingly long descent, the door opened onto a large, bright room. Xavier was reluctant to step out because the entire floor beyond the elevator was composed of human heads. They were silent but appeared to be alive.

  “Go forth,” his escort commanded.

  Xavier gently extended one leg, taking care not to step on the face of the brunette beneath his foot.

  His escort shoved him hard from behind, sending him careening into the room. “Go forth!” it shouted.

  From countless hours of sparring with Tu’Lok, Xavier twisted in the air so that he was able to land in a roll. He bounded back up, transformed into his anubis. He spun to face his assailant.

  His escort stepped out of the elevator and transformed into a fifteen-foot tall demon. The beast had an armored black carapace, nine horns protruding from its head and fangs that were half the length of a baseball bat. It let out a deafening roar that pummeled Xavier with a horrid stench.

  As the warriors prepared to clash, a loud male voice said, “Enough!”

  Both Xavier and the demon involuntarily transformed back into their human forms. Xavier was clothed in the white linen garments that always appeared on his body after he transformed. His opponent, on the other hand, was now completely nude with exaggerated male genitalia. He stood facing Xavier with an emotionless expression.

  Xavier was disoriented. He had never been forced to transform before. The thought that another being could exert such control over his body terrified him.

  “Come forth, Re'hotpe Nehi Mernutersetenil,” the same commanding voice said to Xavier.

  Xavier looked across the room to find an average-sized man sitting on a throne with his legs crossed. The figure had a bald head and unusually long fingers steepled before his face. He appeared human except for his eyes, which were uniformly black with no discernable irises. He was dressed in a white suit with a red tie.

  A glass wall behind the throne overlooked a lake of fire. Humans bobbed up and down in the molten liquid, their faces contorted in misery.

  There were other beings in the room. To Xavier’s left were five human males who looked like exact replicas of his escort. To his right were two nude female succubi whose physical appearances matched his ideal vision of beauty. They looked at him longingly.

  A plain black table sat before Lucifer’s throne with three white envelopes on it.

  Xavier walked across the room and stood before the table. The pair of succubi came up behind him and began touching him in an erotic fashion, making it difficult to concentrate.

  The Devil said, “One envelope contains the information your healers require to cure Ronald Bruce Thurgood. Another contains a word that when read, even mentally, will release me from an oath not to bring a holocaust upon your people. The final envelope contains a blank sheet of parchment. Whatever is written on this parchment will come to pass. If you fail to select this envelope, then I will decide what is written upon it. Choose swiftly.”

  * * *

  Xavier tapped on the glass with his knuckle.

  Howling rolled down the window. “How’d it go?”

  “Pop the trunk,” Xavier said.

  Howling opened the trunk and Xavier retrieved the overnight bag he had packed. He came back to the window. “I have some business to handle in New York. I’ll connect with you again in a couple of days.”

  “Do you need a ride?” Howling asked. “I love the Big Apple.”

  “No.”

  “Are you okay?”

  When no reply came, Howling decided it would be best to
drive off. At least the half-breed mortal had come back out, which is more than he could say for any of the others.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Eagleville, Pennsylvania

  Six black SUVs with government plates pulled to a stop on a gravel path in a remote section of a state park near Philadelphia.

  Fourteen heavily armed Secret Service agents emerged from five of the vehicles and thoroughly secured the immediate area. Six small Department of Defense drones carrying sidewinder missiles and high-resolution cameras buzzed in the air overhead. An F-22 circled in airspace that had been temporarily cleared.

  Robert Landon and two women stepped out of the sixth vehicle and began walking toward the middle of a small clearing.

  Isabella waited for him on the other side. She was standing alone, but Chiyem, Ghox and three members of the Local Council hovered thirty feet behind her. At the tree line ninety feet behind them were ten of Ghox’s orc soldiers, who were armed with automatic rifles and two leashed hellhounds.

  “Three against one hardly seems sporting,” Isabella said with they were all face-to-face.

  “I don’t know about sporting,” Landon said, “but from what I’ve been told about your negotiating skills, it probably makes things about even.”

  “Who gave you that information?”

  Landon smiled. “Do you know the difference between a soldier and a politician?”

  “Do tell.”

  “A soldier will shoot you in the front.”

  “Which are you?”

  “Both.”

  “I will be careful then to watch the curve of my backside when we are together.”

  One of the women with Landon pressed a button in her pocket which made Landon’s ElectriShield ring vibrate.

  Isabella looked down at his hand. “Are they here to protect you from my feminine wiles?”

  “Something like that.”

  “They are unnecessary.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have no intention of seducing a married man. And in the event I did, they would not help, since I would simply ensure that all three of you knew pleasures your bodies could barely fathom before seeing me naked.”