Anubis Nights (28 page)

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Authors: Gary Jonas

Tags: #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Anubis Nights
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“No!” I yelled as I pulled several shuriken from my belt.

Jonathan fell onto the soldier and rolled off the man to the ground.

Horemheb raised his sword, said something I couldn’t hear, and moved to kill Jonathan.

But now I was closer. I let the shuriken fly.

Two of them struck Horemheb in the back; two of them stuck in his hand. He dropped the sword and fell to his knees. I kicked him aside and knelt by Jonathan.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said around his pain.

“Shut up,” I said. “I need to get you to safety.”

“You need to ow!”

As I pulled Jonathan to his feet, he moaned and pointed behind me.

Zannanza stumbled up to us. “This was a ruse the entire time,” Zannanza said. “You led me here to kill me.”

Evidently he’d already forgotten that the only reason he was still alive was because I was protecting him. He pulled a dagger.

“Really?” I said.

Jonathan needed me. I didn’t know this Zannanza guy beyond the few days of traveling, and I already didn’t like him. If Jonathan died because this ass slowed me down, I would never forgive myself.

“Ankhesenamun can do better than you,” I said.

I lifted Jonathan in my arms.

“I think I can walk,” Jonathan said.

I ignored him and threw him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I also ignored Zannanza, who brandished his dagger at me with shaking hands. He was the least of my worries. Right now I had to get Jonathan to safety. Nothing else mattered.

Zannanza didn’t try to follow. He just stood there with the dagger in his hand.

Soldiers tried to attack me as I carried my friend and lover away from the battleground, but they quickly met their deaths at the end of my blade. I must have looked like an insane woman running across the bloody wasteland, man over my left shoulder, sword in my right hand.

When we reached relative safety, I checked Jonathan’s back. He had a bad scrape where Horemheb had slammed him with the shield, but the general must have wanted Jonathan to see the real blow before it came, so the first one was just to get his attention. Perhaps I should have returned to the battle, but I needed to make sure Jonathan was safe.

I watched the Egyptian army slaughter Zannanza’s entourage.

It didn’t take long.

Toward the end, Zannanza stood with dagger in hand, turning in circles. General Horemheb approached him, one hand injured from my throwing stars and bleeding from the wounds in his back. Otherwise, he didn’t seem much the worse for wear. He took a spear and ran Zannanza through.

I shook my head. “We tried to protect them.”

“Really?” Jonathan asked. His tone suggested that he didn’t believe me.

Was he right?

I did a bit of soul searching. Could I have kept Zannanza safe?

Yes.

Could I have saved him as well as Jonathan?

Maybe.

But the risk to Jonathan was too great. There were too many warriors down there, and they were very good at what they did. I was still a far cry from a hundred percent, so I stood by my choice to get Jonathan to safety.

After all, I barely knew Zannanza and his men, but I loved Jonathan.

In the end, that made all the difference to me.

 

BRAND EASTON

 

After a night of passionate lovemaking, Brand didn’t think it could get any worse. Over breakfast in the dining car, Priscilla looked at Edward. “Can you feel Brand inside you?”

Edward shrugged. “A little.”

“Not to worry,” Priscilla said. “When we get to my house in New York, I’ll be able to remove his spirit. He’ll be dead but his body will live on with you as its sole occupant.”

Brand let that sink in. He wondered if the link Chronos and Sharon had created was bound to his body or his spirit. If the latter, Jonathan and Kelly wouldn’t be pulled to the 1870s. If the former, at least Brand would be avenged.

Either way, he was not a happy camper.

 

RAYNA NOBLE

 

Rayna paced the floor in a large bedroom. She was a prisoner, but so far, Winslow had been true to his word, and he’d kept Carlton from doing anything to her. Still, even though the room was nice, she wanted to leave. The door was locked, and there were always two men stationed outside.

They brought her meals, and she had an attached bathroom, but there were no windows and no chance of escape. She could have built up her fire and burned the place down, but what purpose would that serve? Winslow made sure she would be comfortable in her captivity, and while Rayna didn’t like being under his thumb, she didn’t want to kill anyone either.

Based on the layout of the building, she suspected this inner chamber was one of the private sex rooms. She hoped they’d changed the sheets. She’d spent some time checking out the books on the bookshelf, but they were mostly written in French, and the few English texts she found were esoteric occult titles recounting the history of some secret society that had been around since ancient Egypt. Had it been written to compete with television and movies, she might have been able to decipher it, but the author or authors loved to drone on and on about the ancestry of this or that member of the club. If she had insomnia, those books would be an instant cure.

She was of two minds about her current predicament. She wanted to be free, but at the same time, she knew that if she simply remained here, when Jonathan and Kelly came forward, they would come right to Winslow. Mission accomplished. Right?

But Winslow wanted them to come here.

What if they were nauseated from the journey? They would fall right into Winslow’s clutches. In spite of looking like an extra on
The Walking Dead,
he’d been kind to her so far. He didn’t seem like an evil mastermind. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being. He refused to allow Carlton to take her to the chamber. Instead, he’d had two other men escort her. Was it variation on good cop/bad cop? Carlton scared her. But Winslow was the boss.

Would Carlton follow him simply for the chance to cure his cancer? Maybe. But she suspected there was more to it than that.

Rayna kept looking around the room, trying to work out a way to escape. On the other hand, perhaps she needed to remain here for now. Winslow was a talker. Her ears and her brain could be her best weapons in this battle. Perhaps he would tell her how to defeat him.

She allowed herself a grin. She may be a prisoner, but at least the accommodations were excellent.

Rayna spun toward the door as she heard a key fumbling in the lock.

She clenched her fists, keeping her wrist straight as Jonathan had taught her. If someone came in here thinking she’d be an easy target, that fool had another thing coming. If he had weapons, she might be able to take them away. Rayna was very good with a variety of weapons.

The door swung inward, and a man in black robes and a gold mask stepped inside. From his neck and chin, she could see he was an old man. His grin looked familiar.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

The old man smiled. He was a bit hunched over, and Rayna’s first guess was that he must be in his eighties.

“I want to be young again, of course.”

“Do I know you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “That would be telling.”

“You look familiar.”

“Oh, you’ve seen me a few times. Once at Sully’s on Lexington and once in Central Park. You saw me at the temple too, but you wouldn’t have known.”

“What’s your name?”

“Better if I don’t say. I’m just here to warn you. That’s all.”

“Warn me about?”

The old man took a deep breath. “Many years ago, I met a man from the future named Jonathan Shade. He and I spent some time together before he died. That man loved to sing the strangest songs.”

“Wait a minute,” Rayna said. “What do you mean ‘before he died’?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am. For me it’s been so many years. I should have told you in a nicer way.”

“He’s really dead?” Rayna sat on the bed. She buried her face in her hands. “What happened?”

“There’s not much I can tell you, Miss Noble. I met Jonathan in the 1870s. He was tracking down a man named Henry Winslow. A man I also now know very well. Jonathan told me some things that made me a wealthy man. In return, he asked me to keep an eye out for you. I got a message when you checked in to the Aberdeen, and Charlie told me you went to a speakeasy. I lost track of you a few times. As Jonathan used to say, getting old sucks.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Jonathan asked me to pass you a message, but he told me not to give it to you until you’d found Winslow.”

“Message?”

“He wanted me to tell you he missed you and that he loved you. And he wanted me to tell you not to try and fight Winslow.”

“Why?”

“He told me if I met Winslow, I’d know, but I’ve known Winslow for years, and I still don’t understand it myself.”

“I know he’s dangerous.”

“All men are dangerous.”

“I came here to get you out of this place,” the old man said.

“What about Kelly and Brand?”

The old man shrugged. “I don’t know. Jonathan talked about them, but I don’t know what happened. If they fulfilled their mission, they’ll be along soon.”

The old man cocked his head to the side then shambled over to the door.

“Someone’s coming,” he said. “You need to get out of here right now.”

“Winslow won’t hurt me.”

“It isn’t Winslow who scares me, Miss Noble. It’s that madman, Carlton J. Penick. Come with me.”

“If you want to live,” Rayna said.

“What?” the old man said.

“The second
Terminator
movie. Jonathan and I watched it together on Blu-ray.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what a Terminator or a Blu-ray is. They sound dangerous, though.”

“You know what movies are, right?”

“Of course.
The General
and
Safety Last
are my favorites.”

“I don’t know those.”

“Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd,” the old man said. “They make wonderful movies. But we need to get you to safety.”

He led her out of the room. Two men lay unconscious in the hallway outside her door. The man led her down a long staircase and to the front door.

“Please do not pursue this any further. Jonathan did not wish to see you harmed.”

“What about Kelly and Brand? If they show up, I mean.”

“You may tell them where Winslow is living. And warn them about Carlton. He’s the immediate threat. Be safe, my dear.”

Rayna stopped as she opened the door. She turned back to the old man. She wanted to pull his mask away, but the old man had already shuffled back to the staircase.

She saw Carlton at the top of the steps.

“What have you done?” Carlton asked. “There are two men on the floor up here.”

“I set her free,” the old man said with defiance.

“You should not have done that, Mr. Easton,” Carlton said and pushed past him.

“She’s long gone,” the old man said.

Carlton rushed down the stairs.

Rayna ran as fast and as hard as she could. She made it to the corner and ducked around it.

Two thoughts kept banging up against Rayna’s mind as she moved farther away from the temple at a more normal pace. Jonathan was dead and Carlton called the old man Mr. Easton.

Brand. If Winslow died, why hadn’t Brand been pulled forward to her?

What the hell happened in 1877?

And what could she do in 1926?

Especially if Jonathan was dead?

She walked the streets of New York, feeling more alone than ever as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

JONATHAN SHADE

 

I’m not proud of it, but I bitched, moaned, and whined as Kelly carried me across the battlefield. In my defense, my back was killing me, and every step she took was like someone taking a hammer to my spine.

Kelly dispatched warriors left and right without slowing down. Zannanza tried to keep up, carrying his dagger, and Horemheb followed him, but they both fell behind, and after Kelly killed a final warrior, she made even better time. I tried to tell her to stop, but she either ignored me or thought I was ranting and raving like a lunatic.

She finally set me down toward the top of a hill where we could look over the battlefield and watch the Egyptian army slaughter Zannanza’s men. Horemheb blocked Zannanza’s escape, keeping the man moving in circles, trying to find a way to safety.

I lost sight of things for a moment as Kelly shoved me down to examine my injury. She held me down and told me it was just a scrape and that I would soon have a nice bruise to go along with the dull pain.

In the distance, she and I watched Horemheb slay Zannanza.

***

I had to trust Kelly to get us back to Thebes. I don’t seem directionally challenged when I’m in Denver, but thanks to the mountains, I always know which way is west. Out here, everything was just sand. I had a compass on my cell phone, but that was in my pack in Thebes.

It hurt to walk, but I knew I needed to man up and not complain about it. I think I did a pretty good job.

 

KELLY CHAN

 

The trip back to Thebes was uneventful, but I did get tired of Jonathan’s complaining about the pain. After a few days, he got better about it, but there for a while I wanted to tell him to grow a pair.

 

JONATHAN SHADE

 

A few days later, I was feeling much better. It took time to get back to Thebes because the barge was gone and there was no sign of the oarsmen. We negotiated passage up the Nile to get back to the palace, and I wanted to sleep for a week.

As we approached the compound early one morning, two guards met us at the doorway. They barred our entry, crossing spears before us.

Kelly glared at them, and they looked nervous. I wondered if they’d been at our demonstration a few months back. I half expected one of them to say, “You shall not pass,” but neither spoke to us. One called out, “Tell General Horemheb the strangers have returned!”

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