by Jules River
After the sisters talked, Faye went to check on Cenric. His brothers left as soon as she came in the bedroom. “How are you feeling? The doctor said he only had to give you a total of ten stitches on both sides.” Faye sat on the bed on his uninjured side.
“I am much better now that you are here.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When he started kissing down her neck, Faye tried to stall him. “Mmm, can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”
“I am hungry for you. I think we know each other very well now, are you ready to sleep with me yet?” Cenric unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her lush breasts.
“No, Cenric, I’m not ready yet. You should be satisfied for at least a day after our time on the plane.”
“That only made me want you more.” He kissed her half-exposed breasts through her lacy black bra.
“Well, you are going to have to wait,” making a lie of her statement as she thrust her breasts farther into his grasp.
“Then it is my turn to tease you, so maybe you will want me more and give us both what we really want.” He moved down, kissed her exposed stomach, unbuttoned her slacks, and slid them off. His fingers crept under the edge of her panties, making her gasp as he settled between her smooth thighs and kissed her, as she had done to him on the plane. Soft, innocent kisses at first, and then not so innocent, until her pleasure and his were one.
***
After breakfast the next morning, everyone met in the office, ready to go over all of the information they had gathered. The extra security was scheduled to arrive by noon, giving them one less thing to worry about.
They had the original codex that their father had found in Rome, which told them of the curse. They had the book of spells from the sorcerer they believe had cursed the warriors. They had the talisman the sorcerer used in the curse. The three warriors were reunited with their weapons: the sword, the dagger, and the axe. They had the information about the sorcerer. The only thing they did not have was the urn containing the remains of the sorcerer, but they were still unsure whether it was even needed.
Now they needed to figure out how to end the curse on the warriors in the allotted three-month period. Half of that time had already passed.
Once everyone was settled in the seating area, Warin led the conversation, “We need to go over the codex again to see how to end this curse.”
Faye took the book from the safe and placed it on the coffee table, convenient for all of them to see. She carefully turned to the passages they needed, “Here is the part that tells of the curse and a brief description of what it would take to break it.”
Mira looked through the research on the Sorcerer taken from the museum, “Let’s see what information this has about this curse, or curses of this type.”
Todd brought up a question, “Do you suppose if it is done incorrectly it would make something worse happen? What I mean is, it only took the weapons being in the warriors’ hands and the words being spoken to break that part of the spell. We should be careful and make sure we know exactly what we are doing before trying anything, it would seem to me.” He sat back and tried to become inconspicuous again, never one who enjoyed being the center of attention.
His words did spark a flurry of conversation, and everyone seemed to have something to say about the subject. Ultimately, all agreed they should be careful, and wait to proceed until they were sure they had all necessary information in hand.
Steven’s blackened eyes were now an awful yellow color, and he still had a bandage across his nose from where Cenric broke it. He was careful not to let Cenric catch him as he glared at him or stared at Faye. He was also more reserved than usual, Faye noticed, and thought he seemed to be pouting. Faye was grateful no one brought up Steven’s obvious condition, and that both Cenric and Steven were behaving for the time being.
After hours of going over all the information they had, Todd suggested, and they all agreed, that they did indeed need the sorcerer’s urn. They also came up with information that suggested the Sorcerer Empedocles was not responsible for placing the curse on the warriors. But he had an apprentice, and it was possible he was the one who had actually cursed the warriors. This new information needed to be thoroughly researched. They had to find out who the apprentice was and why he cursed the warriors. Todd offered to take on that task.
Mira started to ask the brothers questions about their past, more specifically about the days just before they were cursed, to see if they could pinpoint any single person who might have been an enemy.
Warin thought back, “We had fought a large, important strategic battle just days before against a fierce and acclaimed Roman general, who was killed. It was a pivotal battle in the war.”
Faye asked, “Do you suppose a member of the general’s family could have had something to do with the curse?”
Dunstin answered, “Anything is possible at this point.”
Mira inquired, “What was this general’s name?”
Before one of the warriors could answer, Todd surprised them by answering the question. He stood with his back to them, but boldly and quietly told them, “Titus Quinctius Dives Demetrias. He lost three Roman legions and his life when he was attacked by the Germanic leader Warin Arminius Faust that day.”
The room was quiet for a moment before Warin agreed, “Yes, my army attacked Titus and his three legions. They were on our land, threatening our freedom, our way of life. It was war. One that had been going on for several years.”
Lyra, being Lyra, stated, “War sucks, there is no denying that. So, now we have a family name to research. I’ll get right on that.”
Todd jumped in again, “Lyra, you might want me to take that one, too. It looks like you will need the sorcerer’s urn after all, and I just found out the Roman museum is shipping it to New York this week as part of a larger exhibit. If you hurry, you can intercept the shipment before it reaches the museum and goes on display.”
Todd had certainly become bold and chatty all of a sudden.
“Really?!” Dunstin groaned, not yet ready to leave the comforts of the castle for another adventure.
“Cool, I love New York.” Lyra flashed a big smile.
***
The next day Lyra, Dunstin, and a six-man security team were in New York. On the way, Lyra did some serious hacking to find out which company was shipping the urn, and when it was due to be delivered to the museum. They worked up a plan on the plane. Their goal was to intercept the urn after the courier picked it up from the airport, but before it made it to the museum. They rented a mix of four cars and SUVs, then broke up in pairs; they all knew where they needed to go and what they needed to do.
The courier company used vans, and by hacking into its tracking system, Lyra was able to determine which van would pick up the urn, and the route it would follow. She hacked the van’s internal GPS so she could alter the route slightly, taking the van through a less-congested area of the city to make their plan easier to implement. She also disabled the recording devices on the van; they didn’t want any cameras catching them in the act. In a bit of computer magic that had her laughing out loud, she figured out how to jam the courier’s front doors so he couldn’t open them, while at the same time leaving the rear doors unlocked. They wouldn’t even have to force the doors! And to be perfectly safe, she rendered his radio inoperable, so the driver wouldn’t be able to contact his dispatcher. “Computers, you gotta love ’em,” Lyra said to herself, completely pleased at her clever manipulation of technology.
They didn’t have enough time to take the urn before it left the airport, so they planned a simple snatch. One of their vehicles would fake a breakdown in front of the courier’s van on a narrow street, and the others would block it in. While the van was stopped, they would open the rear door, take the urn, and walk away. Easy-peasy.
They followed the van as it left the airport with its cargo, and when they were all in position, the lead car stopped abruptly in front of the courier. Lyra and Dunstin were in a car b
eside the van, preventing it from moving around the stalled car. Their vehicles were in tight formation. The courier was trapped.
Almost before the driver realized he was being hijacked, one of Lyra’s security men opened the unlocked rear doors of the van. Luckily, the cargo hold was nearly empty, with only five crates inside, all clearly marked. One small crate, about the size of a carry-on suitcase, carried a label from a museum in Italy. Bingo. They had their urn. The courier driver was trained to stay in his vehicle until given further instructions, so he sat uselessly in his seat, trying repeatedly to contact the dispatcher on a radio that would not work. The whole affair was almost comically easy.
Lyra’s security guard had the urn in his possession, and was headed back to his SUV when, seemingly out of nowhere, guns were pointed at him; others targeted his partner and still more took aim at Lyra and Dunstin. The gunmen were wearing suits and looked foreign and grim. Without a word, they took the crate and handed the guard a letter. Then the men in suits got back in their vehicles and drove away.
Lyra sat in the car, stunned, when her security guy came over and handed her the letter. “Thank you, let’s get out of here.” They took off in different directions, leaving a stunned courier behind, still trying futilely to unlock his door and reach his dispatcher. The whole episode had taken less than a minute.
Lyra, Dunstin and her six-man team met at the hotel suite they had booked. “Well, I must say I was not expecting that one.” They all murmured their agreement. “The letter is from Sheikh Khalid Gaz, apparently he wants the parchment Faye and Cenric took a few weeks ago, and he wants them to bring it to him,” Lyra explained.
“Do you have it, and are you willing to part with it?” one of her men asked.
“No, I don’t think we have it anymore, Faye was going to send it back to him since it was not what we needed after all, and that was the plan all along. I have to call Faye and talk to her,” she said as she dialed her sister. “Faye, did you send the spell back to the sheikh and his son by any chance?”
“Yes, Lyra, I sent it back the day before you left. Why?” she asked suspiciously. “Did you get the urn already?”
“Yes, yes, we did get the urn, and then it was immediately taken from us by the sheikh’s men. They exchanged it for a lovely letter to you and Cenric. You know, I think he really likes you two,” Lyra said dryly. “He knows you are in Germany and he wants you two to make a trade tomorrow night at his hotel suite. He’s staying at the Ritz here in New York.”
“Oh hell! No one was hurt, were they? Are you OK?” she asked worriedly.
“Everyone is fine, no shots fired. I’m kinda disappointed I’m the only one who hasn’t been in a shootout. What do you want to do, Faye?” Lyra asked in her typical bored tone.
“Let me make some calls, hang tight, I’ll get back to you later.” Faye hung up on Lyra this time.
“Ugh! That’s my thing,” Lyra said to the silent phone. She looked to her team, “You guys go ahead and go to your suites, get some rest, eat, whatever. There is no telling when she will get back to me and I doubt we could do anything today anyway.”
“Ma’am, we will take shifts guarding outside your door,” one of her men told her.
“Thank you.” She closed the door behind them. She was immediately aware of Dunstin’s warm body close behind her, and his intoxicating scent wrapped around her just before his arms did. Lyra was roughly pulled tight against Dunstin’s hard body. His hands started to explore her front, while his lips tasted her neck. He kissed his way to her ear, and growled, “It has been too long since I have touched and tasted you, Lyra.” She shuddered at the seductive sound of his voice, the possessive way he said her name and touched her. She had no thought of resisting, and he quickly spun her around so he could taste her lips. She opened for him easily, kissing him back as thoroughly as he kissed her. He lifted her, pulled her long, sexy legs around his waist, and walked to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. They started to undress each other, caressing each other’s skin as it was exposed. Dunstin flicked her pebbled nipple with his tongue, which made her arch her back, thrusting her breasts closer to his mouth.
Then her phone started to ring. For Lyra that was like being doused with ice water; she frantically scrambled out from under Dunstin, jumping up to dig her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. As she answered, she reached for his shirt to cover her naked torso, then listened to Faye speak on the phone. Dunstin gave a frustrated groan. He was well aware that she would not let him resume their “messing around” when she got off the phone.
After Lyra had spoken to Faye the first time, she told the rest of them at the castle what happened. They all discussed it, and decided that Faye and Cenric should try to contact the sheikh at his hotel, get him to verify that his property was on its way back to Dubai, apologize nicely, and ask him to return the urn. No harm, no foul.
But they were unable to reach the sheikh, he was not accepting either calls or messages. How convenient of him.
So Faye and Cenric would be leaving right away to talk to Sheikh Khalid in person in New York. Faye called Lyra back to tell her the plan. Lyra and her group just needed to wait until they arrived.
***
The plan was for Faye and Cenric to be at the Ritz hotel at the appointed time, have him call home to confirm it had been returned, then take the urn and go. If Khalid had other plans for Faye, she also had Dunstin and his group as backup.
Cenric and Faye arrived at his hotel suite on time, but Khalid kept them waiting for nearly an hour. He came out with a very smug look on his face.
“Hello, Faye, Mr. Faust. I hope you have not been too inconvenienced, I so wanted to see you face to face after our last visit.”
Cenric got right to the point. “Sheikh Khalid, we sent your spell back to you several days ago. We only ever wanted to borrow it, if it was not available for purchase, anyway. If you would contact someone at your home you could verify what I have said.”
Khalid jerked his head to his man, silently commanding him to verify the information. “That may well be true; however, you did steal from me. I require compensation.” He turned a lustful look in Faye’s direction.
“You made advances on my wife, then one of your bullets grazed her head. You almost killed her. If anyone required compensation, it would be me,” Cenric informed him with narrowed eyes. Faye squeezed his fingers in warning.
An older man, dressed in an expensive suit with a keffiyeh on his head, walked in with the assistance of his manservant. He walked to Khalid, who immediately stood and offered his seat to the older gentleman.
“Is this true, Khalid, did you make advances on a married woman?” His father, Sheikh Saeed Gaz, exuded dignity and authority. His son stuttered, “I…well I…”
“I will take that as a yes. You did not tell me this, only that the spell was stolen from you.” A servant approached and whispered to the sheikh who nodded, and informed Faye and Cenric, “The spell is indeed in our possession in our home.” He turned to the servant, “Bring our guests their belongings.”
“But, Father…” Khalid started to protest, but quickly stopped after just a look from the older man.
The urn was given to Cenric, and Sheikh Saeed said in dismissal, “Thank you for your time; my manservant will see you out.” Cenric and Faye murmured thank you and goodbye, and quickly made their way to the door; they wanted to get out while they had the chance.
Chapter 20
Faye and Cenric exited the elevator into the lobby of the Ritz, where they converged with Lyra and Dunstin and the attending security teams. As they walked toward the exit, Faye grabbed Lyra and Cenric’s hands and squeezed them. “It’s him!” Faye whispered. She was staring at the main entrance where a distinguished, handsome man surrounded by guards of his own walked in the door. Lyra and Cenric followed her gaze to the man. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with a distinctly Roman look about him. When he turned to look at them they held their breath; his eyes had an ancient, a
rresting aura about them, which spoke of sorcery.
He must have recognized them then, because his eyes became extremely angry, and almost glowed. Lyra grabbed Dunstin’s upper arm in a death grip, causing him to look at her startled face before following her gaze to the man who stared back at them. Something about the man was not quite right. Dunstin and Cenric shared a look over the sisters’ heads, and immediately changed direction to leave from a side door, gesturing for the guards behind them to get closer to the sisters. All of the security team were alert to signs of danger, and began closing in to make a better shield around the four of them. As soon as they were outside, Faye told them, “That was the man from the private auction where we bought the sword. Remember, when we were followed, and got shot at on the way to the airstrip?”
Dunstin responded, “He reeked of old magic. He definitely recognized us, and yet he didn’t follow.”
Lyra asked, “Do you think he is a sorcerer? Wow, that sounded crazy, but it’s what we’ve been living lately.”
“I would have to say so. Did you see how his eyes glowed oddly?” Cenric asked.
“Yes, his eyes were creepy!” Faye added, “We have to find out his identity, and what he wants with us, immediately.”
***
On the way back to Germany, Cenric took the opportunity to talk to Lyra while Faye was busy on a call and Dunstin discussed weaponry with one of the men in the security team. “Lyra, may I have a word with you?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind Cenric?”
“Faye, and little else,” he stated with self-depreciation. “Ah, I see… You know, Faye can dish it out, but she can’t take it.” Cenric gave her a confused look.
“Let me explain. Faye can do something or treat someone one way, but she can’t stand it when they do the same to her. She will do the craziest things to get you to stop. That might help you out the next time she gives you trouble,” Lyra said with a mischievous glint in her eye.