A Scream in the Dark

It's without much further ado that I give you a dark little scene that I put together today. To those who came and said hello while I was writing at the coffee shop today, you may be interested to see what I was working on...

What's Happening: Daphne breaks into the Magic shop for the second time to get a book.

Current NaNo Word Count: 44,137

Enjoy!

Mara

“I’ll meet you at the Opaque Lounge,” I told Eric, and gathered my trench and satchel up in my arms. At his look of distrust I rubbed his bicep reassuringly and smiled up at him. “Don’t worry; I’ll only be a few minutes after you. I just need to drop back a file to the Met on the way.” Which was still half true, I just neglected to mention that after that I wanted to pop back into Makin’ Magic to swipe that book of incantations and summons I’d been perusing with Margery’s help.

            Oh, trust me I planned to leave my thanks.

            Despite Mim’s best efforts when I’d cried that morning, I had refused to reveal everything that Nailah had said in the dream and needed to keep at least some things to myself until I could understand her actions more than I did.

            So, for that I needed to summon some more spirits and work on strengthening the power that Nailah had granted me. I needed the book I’d used with Margery for that, but there was seriously no way in hell Mim or Eric were going to just sit by and let me do that.

            I was well aware of the danger it threatened in returning, which was why I’d relegated James to come with again knowing he could alert Mim who’d no doubt be prowling not too far behind whether I ordered him not to follow me or not. But the point remained that neither Eric nor Mim found out in time to stop me from achieving my goal.

            I might not have convinced Nailah to live, but I was sure as hell not going to sit back and let this continue. I was going to get to the bottom of this like Poirot and gods help me if I failed because my men were too over-protective. What was the fun in being the Priestess of the Gods, if you couldn’t do any good, anyway?

            So, when I’d told Mim I’d meet him at the lounge and that I’d be arriving with Eric he’d reluctantly let me go. Then when I’d told Eric that Mim was being uncharacteristically cool with me detouring a moment so long as I met Eric at the lounge at the allotted time, I hadn’t expected him to be so trusting, and I felt an incredible stab of guilt when he kissed me hard and let me go.

            I had exactly half an hour to be at the Opaque Lounge downtown with the book safely in my satchel, or Mim and Eric were going to figure out I’d given them the slip and my already shortened leash of trust was going to be tightened beyond human endurance. In other words, I was going to be so dead.

            Turns out, that would be the least of my worries.

            James, who’d figured me out and floated after me telling me off in the most upper-class English way possible how stupid I was, threatened to expose me a number of times on the journey to the Met.

            I hadn’t necessarily lied to Eric earlier when I’d said I had to drop off a file to the Met, because I did, I’d spent part of the day in Starbucks with Roy putting the final touches on the analysis report we re-submitted to include the final two figurines we’d looked at the day before. After we’d completed it, we’d gone for a last adventure run through the city together and ended up at Museum of Natural History for so long we’d run out of time to drop back the file. So, I’d offered to do it on the way to thank-you party.

            It was the perfect cover, and I couldn’t have planned it any better myself.

            It only took me five minutes to burst into the Met and slip the report onto Inna’s desk before racing back for the waiting taxi, where James still sat glowering in my direction.

            “Would you stop? You of all people should get why I had to lie. And it wasn’t even a total lie.”

            “You of all people,” James said mimicking my tone. “Should understand why lying to your protectors when entering into a dangerous situation is not recommended.”

            “But they wouldn’t of let me go!”

            “Because it is dangerous!”

            The taxi driver swivelled around to stare at me in confusion. “You talkin’ to me, miss?” He asked in concerned Brooklyn.

            “Er, no, just on the hands free!” I’d hastily slid a headphone into one ear as I’d slunk back into the cab.

            He continued to look a little worried as I gave him the new address for Makin’ Magic and the cab pulled away from the curb.

            “Some days, con, I truly believe that you have a death wish. I should have gotten your wasted years to live. I’d have married and had children and published works in Egyptology to rival my beloved Carter.”

            “Yeah, but then you’d never have met me in the first place and all of that would have invalidated anyway.”

            James just glared. “Touché, but it still does not make your actions acceptable.”

            “Yeah, yeah, James. Let’s just go get the book and then it’ll be over.”

            Makin’ Magic was as destitute as the last time I’d seen it, and after paying for the cab I waited for it to leave before heading to the back and breaking back in through the same window as before.

            The book sat on the same shelf I’d left it, and when my hands caught it I gave a sigh of relief convinced I was in the clear.

            Too soon, apparently, because when I tucked it away in my satchel and turned back towards the window to leave the way was blocked by two very large, very solid bodies. I looked up horror and vaguely recognised the two henchman that had flanked me in Central Park before something very hard and heavy contacted with the side of my head and plunged me into darkness.

            James’ voice screeching in alarm was the last thing I heard.

            I woke up god knows how much later, my head pounding and my mind in a jumble. It was dark, even after I fought to open my eyes, and everything was fuzzy.

            The was a metallic, bloody taste in my mouth and every slight movement racked me with pain.

            Gradually memory began to return and I vaguely remembered something connecting with my skull and knocking me out.

            The Necromancer’s henchmen. Of course.

            As awareness began to return a light flickered to my right, and the brightness sent a shockwave of pain through my brain. I groaned before I could stop myself.

            “You’re awake.”

            I didn’t recognise the woman’s voice who spoke, and she crept over to me with her lantern, illuminating my surroundings.

            Cold grey was everywhere around me, and it wasn’t long before I realised we were in a tomb. A cold, unfeeling tomb very different to Ye Vanck Amun’s, but resplendent in regard for the modern mausoleum’s built for the rich in the Western World; I hoped it meant I was still in New York.

            The woman came into view and dropped the hood of the robe covering her face.

            I gasped in surprise, as I both realised who it was and that this was the Necromancer that had been trying to kill me since I’d come to the city. I wasn’t sure whether I was shocked more shocked that she’d kidnapped me, revealed herself to me, or by who she was.

            Matronly Janice Uther, Egyptologist at the Metropolitan Museum of Art stared down at me with a manic smile on her sullen face, a lantern in one hand and a dagger in the other.

            I hadn’t seen that one coming.

            I tried to move but she just laughed in response, the knife glinting in the light from her lantern.

            “You’re all tied up this time, my dear. No running for you this time.”

            As she spoke I became aware that my arms were secured tightly above my head, and my ankles were tied together. The cold, hard granite beneath me told me that I was either lying on a sarcophagus or some kind of stone slab of an altar like a sacrifice.

            Oh man, I thought, how in the hell was I going to get myself out of this mess?

            James! James, I remembered, had been there. He would warn Mim! That hope died a horrible death when my gaze fell on a mortalised James, bound and gagged on the floor against the wall opposite me.

            Well, shit. There went that plan.

            “Noticed your little spirit friend, did you?” Janice laughed, and twirled the knife in her hand. “I am a master of the dead, it was far too easy of me to simply cast him into flesh and bind him here. You can forget about him fetching your Prince of Cats or your Jackal. Nothing is going to save you this time, Priestess.”

            The knife lowered to my skin and I sliced a thin line from my collarbone to the top of my left breast. The pain was overcome by shock but I still screamed. I screamed for my failed plan, my dejection and my fading hope that Mim or Eric were going to find me in time.

            Janice laughed like a psychopath as red blood trickled down onto my clothes and the stone beneath me. And as tears burned my eyes, I screamed.