Codex

by Megan Fatheree

  Eadric rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “I suppose he told you the wrong alarm code, too, then.”

  “No, I forgot. He’s always telling me to write things down. I just don’t.” Doon, still hesitant, followed Eadric into the spacious living and dining room. “May I have the alarm code, Mister Hawkmore? I’ll be silent next time I come to check on you. Promise.”

  Eadric laid the sword longways on the dining table. “I suppose you do work for me now. It’s still difficult to realize you’ll be taking Otto’s place.”

  “Trust me, it’s unbelievable for me, too.” Doon glanced around the rich interior of Eadric’s home. “Anyway, the code?”

  “1401.”

  Doon nodded, distracted by the abstract chandelier hanging from the center of a floating candle display.

  Eadric pulled his phone from his pocket and rolled his eyes. “You should write it down now, before you forget again.”

  “Oh! Yeah.” Doon fished through his own pockets until he found his phone. “Let’s see... notes... hm, what color?”

  “Make it red,” Eadric didn’t even glance up at him. “To remind you that if you don’t remember the code, I’ll kill you. Accidental incident, of course.”

  Doon froze, his only motion the bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed.

  Eadric looked up and made eye contact with him. His lips turned in the barest hint of a sadistic smile. “I do not jest in this.”

  Doon gulped, looked away, and typed his note as quickly as he could.

  Eadric smiled in satisfaction. “You can tell your grandfather I have the situation well in hand. There is no need to worry.”

  “Situation?” Doon scrambled to follow Eadric into the kitchen next. “We have a situation? What kind of situation? Didn’t you find the stupid... I mean, the journal?”

  “Found, yes. Acquired... it’s complicated.” Eadric dug a drink from the refrigerator. The lid popped open with a satisfying hiss. “I have it well in hand, so don’t fret yourself. This is no longer any concern of yours.”

  “Seeing as how it’s now my job to make sure you’re taken care of, it’s most definitely my concern.” Doon folded his arms petulantly.

  “Do you want to meet the end of my blade again?” Eadric rose a brow, knowing it would be more than enough.

  Surprisingly, Doon only lifted his own eyebrows. “You think I’m scared? I’m more frightened of what my grandfather will do to me if I don’t do my job. He’s a scary old man.”

  Despite all his attempts to hold it in, a single laugh escaped Eadric’s lips. He couldn’t have described Otto better himself. Perhaps Doon was useful for more than one thing around here. Even if he did get on Eadric's nerves.

  “So, what’s going on?” Doon grinned as if he won the lottery.

  Eadric shook his head. “If you need to know at any point, I’ll be the one to tell you. Go study the books your grandfather gave you. It will be helpful for you to know those things.” He didn’t bother to wait around for Doon’s reaction. He grabbed his sword in one hand and marched back to his room. If it was anything like his usual stress, Eadric knew he wouldn’t be sleeping at all tonight.

  AMORETTE SET DOWN HER pencil and rubbed her tired eyes. It had been a good idea to start with, but it was also painstaking and took too much focus. She should go to sleep. She had an early morning the next day.

  With a sigh, Amorette put away the things she’d been using and carried her work with her to bed. She curled under the covers, her fingers tracing over the black leather of that book, but sweet dreams wouldn’t come. Amorette tossed and turned, increasingly agitated that she couldn’t fall asleep.

  A loud crash sounded from the living room.

  It wasn’t unusual to hear a fight break out between her stepmother and step-siblings, but that particular sound never happened before.

  Amorette leaped out of bed and tugged her door open, just a crack. Enough to see the front room and a half-dozen intruders that definitely didn’t belong there. She pressed the door shut again.

  “What do I do? What do I do?” Amorette paced toward her window, then back toward the door. There weren’t many options, but she didn’t want to let them get away with much, if anything at all. This house may be full of bittersweet memories for her, but it was still Amorette’s home.

  The intruders never expected a small woman to use a leather-bound journal as a weapon, but that’s exactly what happened.

  The very second someone opened her door and stepped into her room, Amorette jumped out from behind the door. The journal slammed across the taller man’s chin with an audible clap.

  The burglar stumbled backward. Two more came flying through the door, presumably to his rescue.

  “The book,” the first man mumbled to one of the two.

  Amorette lashed out again, this time at one of the other intruders. She landed a wallop against his shoulder.

  The third man got a hold of her next, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other trapping her arms at her sides.

  The first man recovered some from the shock of the attack. He appeared before her, his sneer wide and his eyes homicidal. His hand came up to wrap around Amorette’s throat in a vise-like grip.

  “Pity you were awake. If you were asleep, this wouldn’t be necessary.” He clucked his tongue. “Such a pretty thing too.”

  His grip tightened.

  Amorette coughed. Her mouth opened wide, searching for air that didn’t come. Her eyes watered, the moisture running down her cheeks like tears. This must be the end. How everything caught up to her and took her life. There was no way out.

  A sharp buzz, accompanied by a flash of light near the attacker’s neck, sent him sprawling on the floor.

  Amorette sputtered and gasped, still held by one of the intruders but very much still alive.

  “Release her unless you want similar treatment. We have specific instructions to take any measures necessary to ensure her safety.”

  Amorette looked up to see a man in a dark suit. One of those large, retired military types. Still, he didn’t look familiar. If anything, he seemed stranger because she didn’t know him. Another quick glance around her room revealed two more similar strangers.

  When the burglar holding Amorette didn’t move, the first man sprang into action. Faster than Amorette could blink, the taser he used on the first man made contact with the man holding Amorette. He cried out and loosened his hold enough that she could struggle free.

  Amorette sprinted for the door. No way she was staying there with any of those people. She didn’t know them. She didn’t trust them. She wasn’t stupid. Something weird was going on.

  “Grab her.”

  The command was barely out of his mouth when two more ex-military types stepped into Amorette’s path. Even though one could have easily detained her, they each took one of her arms and lifted her just far enough her feet couldn’t touch the floor.

  “Oh, come on! This is so unfair!” Amorette struggled against them, careful not to lose her grip on the leather journal. “Put me down, you idiots!”

  The man in the suit stepped out of Amorette’s bedroom and sighed. “I’m afraid you’ll be going on a little excursion with them. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll have this cleaned up by the time you return. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Amorette didn’t even have time to curse him before the brutes dragged her out the door and toward a waiting van.

  THE DOORBELL RANG.

  Eadric frowned and stood immediately from his desk. Doon and Otto wouldn’t ring the doorbell, which meant only one thing. Something happened. He wasted no time sailing down his stairs and pressing the button to unlock the front door.

  The doors didn’t open right away but rather left Eadric in a state of suspense. Finally, two of his company’s security personnel shoved their way through the double doors and down the entryway steps.

  Between them, a small woman struggled with all her might, her lungs as powerful as the impact
of her bare feet.

  The large men dropped her to the steps.

  Amorette landed with a thud and a pout. Eadric half expected her to get up and start slapping people, but instead she fell silent and clutched the book to her chest. His book.

  She looked tiny and pathetic sitting on his floor like that. Most of her hair fell in wisps around her face, even though it had clearly been piled into a ponytail before. The oversized sweatshirt hid only a pair of shorts beneath it. He could only see those because of the way she rested her chin on her clutched knees.

  Despite any compassion that tugged at Eadric’s heart, it couldn’t be helped. Better to cut ties and let her run.

  With a heavy sigh, Eadric knelt before her and draped his arms across his knees. “I did try to warn you. Possessing this journal is dangerous. Do you see that now?”

  Amorette didn’t answer. A soft huff parted her lips, but that was it. Her eyes remained downcast. Her thumb absently moved against the corner of the pages.

  “Give it to me, then.” Eadric held out a hand, palm up.

  Part of him wondered if she would listen to him this time. Another part didn’t want to wait to find out. He waited for her to make a move and, when she didn’t, he reached out and snatched the book from her grasp.

  Amorette didn’t say a word. That’s what tipped him off.

  “Something the matter?” Eadric raised a brow sardonically.

  She was too quiet and demure. This wasn’t the woman he met in the back room of the bookstore. Nor the one who’d been skipping across his computer monitor all day.

  Amorette whipped her head to look up at him, fury sizzling in her eyes and the heavy rise and fall of her chest. “No. Why would something be the matter? I mean, obviously you sent those thugs to scare me into giving you what you want, so no. Nothing’s the matter. Fine. You win. Don’t send any more.”

  “I didn’t send them.” Eadric gently unwound the bindings on the journal. They felt newer than he had expected after so many years of being passed around from historian to antique dealer and back again.

  “Liar.” Amorette stood to her feet and tugged her hooded sweatshirt down. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Fine. Do what you will.” Eadric shrugged a shoulder and waved her toward the door. He was far too focused on his own piece of history to care about what she was thinking or feeling.

  The leather fell open against his palm. His own words stared back at him, but... it wasn’t right. Eadric quickly flipped through the book. Only to find... nothing.

  In three strides, Eadric caught up with the runaway. He snatched her arm, but managed only to snag the sleeve of her hoodie. It slid from her shoulder and stuck.

  Amorette halted and looked back over her now-bare shoulder at him.

  “What is this?” Eadric held up the book in a single, furious motion. How dare she try to pull one over on him?

  Still, Amorette looked at him with an expression beyond reproof, the epitome of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tugged at her arm in an attempt to get away from his hold.

  Eadric released her with a soft shove. He tossed the book her direction, surprised when she caught it. “This isn’t the journal. There’s only one entry.”

  Amorette’s face went white as a sheet. Her eyes darted around the room. “That can’t be right.” But she didn’t bother to open the journal and look.

  “What happened to the journal?” Eadric took a step closer, into her personal space.

  “I...”

  “What. Happened?”

  Amorette winced and took a step back from his looming presence. “I... I... it’s... g-gone.”

  “Gone?” Eadric couldn’t deny that his heart stopped beating. That could mean so many things. Stolen. Given away. Destroyed.

  “Y-yes...” Amorette clutched this new journal to her chest. “B-but I... read the whole thing! I read it and I remember it so I was trying to put it down exactly how I read it. I know everything and I can put it down for you so you can’t kill me or you’ll never get it back.”

  “If you’ve lost it, find it,” Eadric growled. He didn’t spend so many years hunting down his journal for it to slip through his grasp now.

  “I didn’t lose it!” Amorette glared up at him now.

  “Then whatever happened, I suggest you get it back. Because I assure you, until that journal is back in my hands, you won’t be safe from any of those hooligans.” Eadric took one step closer to her. “Is that understood?”

  “Crystal clear.” Amorette pulled her hair over one shoulder, leaving that exposed patch of skin open to the air.

  Eadric blinked and stepped closer still, until he could grab her arms and study the mark against her pale skin.

  No. No, this couldn’t be possible. It was a mistake. A fluke. She was never meant to meet him and he was never meant to find her. He had to get her out of there.

  Amorette caught him by surprise when she shoved him away. Eadric stumbled back a step.

  “I don’t care if you believe me.” Amorette tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I don’t have the journal. You think I would have brought this if I did?” She held up the almost-empty diary.

  “Go home, Amorette.” Eadric turned to walk away. “It’s best if we never see each other again. I’ll have my men keep an eye on you in case you happen to find the journal you misplaced.”

  “Fine,” Amorette called after him. Too loudly, as though she expected him to come back. “What should I do with this one?”

  “Keep it.” Eadric slammed the office door as he passed through it. It wasn’t worth fighting with her. The company personnel would escort her home and that would be the end of it. He would never see her again.

  Except, something told him it wasn’t entirely true. Someone had targeted her, or his security personnel wouldn’t have intervened this evening. Which meant, perhaps, she was in danger despite his distance from her. Eadric sighed and sank into a chair. All he could do was keep his people on alert.

  No matter what happened, he wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt on his behalf.

  [Episode 3]

  A Series of Catalystic Events

  TRUE TO THEIR WORD, the ones who stayed behind did have the house cleaned up by the time Amorette got home that night. She wasn’t quite sure how they didn’t wake up her step-family, but she wasn’t about to complain. There was no need to pull those monsters into this mess.

  Amorette sank onto the end of her bed and set the new journal down beside her.

  She didn’t know why she lied to him. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Less complicated if he thought she didn’t have it any more, right? Besides, at the time, she was afraid that What’s-His-Face would kill her where she stood. If she made a story wherein he needed her alive, she would save herself.

  Apparently, it worked. But it was still weird. Everything that happened was weird. From the first thug that broke her front door to the way the tall, elegant man’s dark eyes glittered in the lamplight.

  He was so serious, but somehow she wanted to see him again. It felt like she could solve a puzzle if she saw him enough times.

  “Never gonna happen, Amorette. Pull yourself together.” She rolled her eyes at her own naivete. He wasn’t even that attractive. A sad smile and mysterious eyes did not a handsome man make.

  Still, try as she might, she couldn’t erase his face from her memory. Great. Now she was thinking about him again. Not the most brilliant thing she’d ever done. Not the stupidest either.

  Amorette crawled up to her pillows and pulled out the old journal. She had to start it tonight. She had to know what she was dealing with. The man wanted this too badly for it to be just a story. Even she could recognize coincidence when it wasn’t a coincidence at all.

  “What big secret do you have inside, hm?” Amorette stroked the leather lovingly, imagining that it might purr if it had a real life.

  She couldn’t explain why she loved this journal so much without h
aving read it. But it called to her, somehow. She wasn’t about to give that up without figuring out why. Amorette was always a curious soul.

  The next thing she knew, Amorette opened her eyes to bright sunshine streaming through her window. She blinked against the light.

  Nothing else happened last night. Nothing that harmed her or woke her. Perhaps the entire ordeal was a dream.

  Amorette rolled out of bed and snatched the journal up into her arms. In case last night hadn’t been a dream, she should keep it close. She didn’t know why she feared for its safety above her own, but she did. It wasn’t right or fair, it didn’t make sense, but she needed the journal close.

  With the new day came new worries, like what mood her step-mother would be in this morning. If she hurried, perhaps the woman would sleep through the ruckus in the kitchen.

  Hopeful, Amorette dashed through her morning routine and scrambled to the kitchen. There wasn’t an awful lot of food in the fridge or cabinets, but she could come up with something. Leftovers were out of the question, they would only get her yelled at later. They had some flour and sugar. She could make pancakes.

  Amorette went digging in the cabinets, in search of something suitable for the picky eaters she catered to.

  About the time she found the ingredients, her phone buzzed in her pocket. At first, she frowned, but one look at the name over the text had her smiling again. Hunter.

  Morning, Mi Amor. Hope your morning is going well. Let me drive you to work?

  Amorette nibbled at her lip. She shouldn’t grin like an idiot about that, but Hunter had never asked something like that before.

  She had always had a bit of a crush on him, ever since the nickname he gave her, but Hunter never seemed to reciprocate. Until now. Maybe he changed his mind.

  She hustled to set the flour and sugar on the counter. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, the one word sure but her emotions less so. Yes.

  “What are you doing? Where’s my breakfast?” Her stepmother stormed into the kitchen.