* * * * *
He triggered a motion detector as he entered the mummy room, clicking on a set of overhead lights. Scanning the room, Henry swore. “Where the hell is it?” He scratched his head. He couldn’t believe that he left the master key somewhere.
“Aha!” A wide smile filled his face. He strolled over to the mummy. There on top of the glass sat the key card. “Damn it. I’m getting sloppy in my old age,” he muttered to himself. He swept up the card and dropped it in his pocket.
Leaning down to the top of the glass, he tapped his finger above the mummy’s head. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
A hint of a breeze brushed against his left cheek. He straightened, slowly turning around the room. The hairs on his arm stood on end. He shivered before glancing down at the mummy once again. What did he expect to see? The mummy looked the same.
Henry ran a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. His imagination was on overload tonight, even though everything appeared to be in its place. He had the key card. The exhibit was undisturbed. The building was secure, but every instinct in his body told him to get the hell out of here.
Henry’s pocket vibrated, which made him jerk backward, lose his balance, and tumble to the floor. The vibration still rumbled from his pocket. His phone! Spread-eagle on the floor, he managed to get a hold of his phone and pressed it to his ear.
“Hello!” he yelled, his blood pressure spiking once again. Damn it!
His eyes widened. “No, this ain’t Sharon. You got the wrong number. Yes, I’m sure. Sharon isn’t here.” With a sigh, he clicked off his phone. Still sprawled out on the floor, he crawled to his knees and rose. Every bone in his body ached. He was too damn old to be falling on the floor. He dusted off his pants and took a deep breath. Okay, relax. You’re just jumpy.
One step. Then two. Henry’s feet were moving. He was leaving the exhibit area. He hurried down the hall, refusing to look behind him. Once ensconced in the office, he sat behind the desk. With his back against the wall, he faced the door. He slid out his gun and set it in front of him. He wasn’t moving until his shift was over. When the sun rose and light filled the building, everything would look different. Safe. Then he could go home.
Chapter 13
Darkness reigned once again in the exhibit area. The guard’s footsteps faded down the hall. Hollow, vacant eye sockets peered upward beyond the multilayers of linen covering Lumeri’s face. A jolt of energy filled his skeletal frame; his entombed case shook violently. The seal surrounding the glass loosened, allowing him to push upward if he wished.
Lumeri waited. His head turned ever so slightly, listening for the man to return. He didn’t know the man who visited each night for the past week. He couldn’t make sense of the gibberish the man rattled off each night. Nor did he care.
A deep moan escaped his throat. Lumeri didn’t know where he was. Soon all would be answered. His loyal followers would help free him from this prison and assist him in his transformation. As the bastard son of a high priest, there was no guarantee of power or riches. His skill at deception allowed him to gather wealth and knowledge. Knowledge gave him power. For centuries, his family knew and protected the secret of life. Now he knew it as well, much to his father’s dismay.
As a revered god of magic, Lumeri’s father, Akhethotep or Priest of Heka, was part of the royal entourage. Akhethotep was granted lands by the king, which made their family one of the wealthiest landowners in the Memphis region. The king also granted his father the privilege of building a monumental tomb.
Although an illegitimate offspring, Lumeri had enjoyed the life of privilege and had riches beyond imagination: slaves to carry out every wish and meet every demand. People bowed down to him, and women and boys visited his bed. No one dare speak out and deny him. Even his three half brothers were suspicious of his violent outbursts. If he could have killed them, he would have. His father suspected that Lumeri would attempt something evil. As a result, his father had his sons heavily guarded.
Many times, he had tried to gain his father’s respect and trust. Lumeri wanted his father to confide in him and teach him the prized magic spells desired of the pharaohs. Instead, Akhethotep passed the coveted information to his eldest son.
The bones of his hands clenched together, ripping the cloth covering his frame. The damning words of his sire echoed in his ears. As he lay dying, he cursed his father, damned him forever. Fury still raged within Lumeri.
He would transform soon. Once he was human, the final step would make him immortal, never to die again. Only one obstacle remained. To acquire immortality, he must take the heart of the last living female descendant of his father. His followers were tasked with uncovering that information so that Lumeri could complete the transformation process.
Lumeri took pride in that he would accomplish something that his father never had: immortality. If only Akhethotep knew that Lumeri controlled generations of knowledge and riches. Lumeri would be the last person to control the knowledge of life. He would rise to power and bring retribution to those who stood in his way. With his knowledge of a forbidden magic spell, he could easily destroy anyone standing in his way. His plan would begin soon—very soon.
* * * * *
Layla unlocked her office. She dropped her purse in a drawer and locked it. She needed hot caffeine. It had been another late night with Kevin. Her body still tingled from his caresses. His cerulean-colored eyes darkened when he kissed her. She shivered, remembering how he picked her up with one arm, sliding her upward until their lips met. She’d never met a man so tall and muscular. She considered herself a strong, independent woman. But when she was with Kevin, she was a puddle of femininity.
Clearing her head of thoughts of Kevin, Layla quickly scanned her e-mails before getting coffee. Word of her successful exhibit was making its way across the country. She already received offers from other museums who wanted her to bring their exhibits to life.
As she entered the break room, the night guard nodded. She paused, noticing the change in Henry’s countenance. Henry was usually all smiles and cracking jokes, but not today. Something wasn’t right.
“Hi, Henry. Everything okay last night?”
The older man stopped in his tracks. A befuddled look blossomed across his face. “Fine. Though I swear sometimes this place is haunted.”
She chuckled and patted Henry on the shoulder. “Sometimes these large open buildings creak when they settle.”
He shook his head. “Nah, it’s more than that.”
Her smile faded. “What happened?”
“I could have sworn someone broke into the building last night, but I checked everything out, and it was fine.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. It would crush her if someone damaged her exhibit. “Well, thanks to you, all is well.”
“No, ma’am. Just lucky. You be careful today. I wouldn’t want you to come to any harm.” Henry gave her a wave and walked out of the building.
She stood frozen in place for several minutes—his warning echoing in her ears. A sudden chill came over her; she vigorously rubbed her arms.
Layla strolled through the exhibit, absently checking each item. She paused upon reaching the mummy’s case. Her dark eyes narrowed, studying the shell of a man beneath her gaze. Her hand absently trailed over the length of the man’s frame.
“Good morning. I see you have had an uneventful night.” She slowly walked around the case, looking at him from different angles. Nothing was amiss. She took another deep breath.
Lifting her gaze, she turned and walked back toward her office. A sigh escaped her; the tension left her body. She couldn’t let Henry’s strange mood dampen her spirits. A glance out the front entryway revealed two school buses pulling into the parking lot. There was no time