Mayan Thief
by
Sabine A. Reed
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
Amazon Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mayan Thief
Copyright © 2017 by Sabine A. Reed
Amazon Edition – License Notes
All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Mayan Thief
In her free time, kicking and screaming, she is forced to weed, garden, or teach young apprentice mages – but her collaboration with FBI’s Paranormal Defense Intelligence Unit is what makes Cleo’s blood throb. When somewhat annoying and irritatingly handsome Special Agent Bryan seeks her help to find the band of wayward mages who are stealing priceless Mayan artifacts from museums across the country, she jumps at the chance to risk life and limb for meager pay.
Little does she know that the quest would take her from Washington to Ireland and to the temple of mage Scott who is seeking a way to breach the barriers and reach into another universe. Should he succeed, the aftermath of such a portal would be disastrous for the country, perhaps even the continent. Cunning and mute obstinacy may be the only traits she needs to succeed against grave odds, but what she risks are the two things she loves above all: her job and the commune she considers her home.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
Chapter 1: 01 Serial Killer
Chapter One
If sheer boredom could kill, I would be dead by now.
With a vicious yank, I pulled out the weed and dumped it in the basket. My gaze was fixed on the rotting corpse sprawled under the massive oak tree. Another weed hit the basket, and then another. A hiss escaped my lips as I concentrated on the corpse. The young woman’s face must have been pretty, but now dark blue bruises covered most of her right cheek and one eye was missing. The sharp nose was broken, and her dark black hair was matted with mud. Her hand twitched just a little, and I smiled. With a little bit of effort, I could make her walk around.
Boy. That would be a wee bit of fun.
“What do you think you are doing?” The carefully enunciated words made me lost my grip on the spell. The corpse vanished. Just in time, though. Myra wouldn’t have been happy to see that I was using her as the subject of my spell experimentation.
Killing her was a bit of my secret fantasy.
She made me dig weeds and I pretended to slay her with my magic. Weeding was the bane of my life, and if I didn’t find anything better soon, I was likely to snap someone’s neck.
“I’m getting rid of the weeds as you told me to do,” I muttered.
Had she seen the corpse? I didn’t think so. If she’d seen, I would have heard about it. Myra wasn’t the sort to keep her opinions to herself.
“You’re not doing it right.”
She stood right behind me, but I didn’t turn to look at her. It wouldn’t take that much effort to hit her with a spell. She certainly wasn’t expecting it. Fool. I could kill and hide her corpse in a deep hole in the garden. But of course, I would have to dig the hole. It was too much of an effort.
“I’m doing my best.”
“You’re…”
“Hey, Cleo. Augusta wants you,” said Shelley in a loud voice as she led a line of young children out of the farmhouse towards the barn. It had long been converted into a school.
I jumped. Please let this be the good news I waited for. Anything, and I meant anything, was preferable to this punishment I suffered in the garden.
“You better get back soon,” Myra yelled.
Not if I could help it.
I waved at Dubey. Pencil-thin, sallow, and with gleaming red eyes, he was the resident vampire and homeroom teacher in the school. With a grim smile, he followed the children as Shelley herded them. If I didn’t know him well, I might have followed to make sure all was well – but hey, it had been twenty years and he never bit anyone. The students were safer with him than they were with me. As I hurried towards the farmhouse that stood in the middle of the thirty acres of commune property, I appreciated the gardens. Paved walkways wound through lush, green grass and flowerbeds that boasted bright, colorful flowers. I couldn’t identify any of them – but hell, I sure could appreciate the beauty. An arbor, half-hidden under the willow tree, guarded the pond. This majestic place was my home, and I’d bloody done every single chore at some point or another in the past two weeks; laundry, weeding, mulching, teaching, cleaning, and cooking.
But I was just darn done with it.
I needed mayhem and chaos so that I could sink my teeth into it and get busy.
Strolling through the pathway, I plucked a daisy and walked through the wooden door that led into the foyer – or what was now called the reception. A curved glass table sat against the far wall. Behind it stood the ever vigilant, the omnipotent head of the household, Augusta.
“You’re late,” she barked without looking up.
“But I am so pretty.” I handed over the daisy to the plump, matronly woman who slid her glasses off her nose and glanced at the daisy with suspicion. “You’re not allowed to pick flowers from the garden. If Myra sees this, she will throw a tantrum.”
“She does that anyway on a daily basis.” I yawned. Raising my arms above my head, I stretched my willowy body. “I’m so bored, Augusta. Give me something new. Please. I’ll die.”
“Must you be so dramatic?” She frowned. “Two weeks without some action, and you’re itching like a dog with fleas.”
“You try weeding and see how exciting your life feels. By the way, Dubey looked hungry today. I distinctly saw him lick his lips as he glanced at that tall, young girl.”
“Shelley will keep an eye on him.” Picking up a sheaf of papers, Augusta dumped them in her hand. Since she wasn’t concerned about Dubey’s hunger, I also put it out of my mind. “There is an FBI agent waiting for you in the parlor. These are your orders.”
Hope bloomed in my heart. Putting my hands on the counter, I leapt up and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, thank you. I’m out of here.”
“Wait! I better tell you now that he looked as if he didn’t have a clue in the world.”
“Oh, my favorite kind of FBI agent. Clueless!” I all but rubbed my hands together. “Don’t you worry? I’ll enlighten him.”
“Mind your manners, Cleo.” Augusta ordered as I headed for the parlor. “And Colonel Sanders is on the prowl today. He is going to be joining you for this mission, so watch out.”
I read the top sheet of the papers. Classified and Highly Confidential. Top Protocol. Hmm! Just what I wanted; something fun and excited. This might prove to be my escape from the endless weeding. Turning over the sheet, I walked into the hig
h-ceilinged room that we used to receive visitors. A man, dressed in a black suit, stood next to the window. He turned to face me. Yum! For a second, I actually felt the blood rush through my head. They didn’t make them this good often. When did they start recruiting agents from Hollywood? Movie star gorgeous, he had white blonde hair, a straight, aquiline nose, and sea green eyes that contemplated me with intense seriousness.
This would prove to be an interesting assignment indeed.
“Ms. Mathew?” He took a step forward. “Hi. I am Special Agent Bryan Smith Potter.”
“That’s quite a mouthful. I bet you wouldn’t mind if I called you Bryan.” I flopped down on the green couch. “And you can call me Cleo.”
“Right.” He remained standing. “I see you’ve read the orders.”
I waved the papers clutched in my hand. “By the order of the United States government, in lieu of a pitiful payment, I am to risk my limb and life to protect the nation from some petty crime. They all are the same. Why don’t you give me the summary and save me the bother of reading this fine print?”
His eyes narrowed. “It would be required for you to sign the document after you’ve read and understood the terms.”
“A stickler for details, aren’t we?” I skimmed through the papers. After reading the relevant parts, I signed at the end and held the papers up. He came forward and took them out of my hand. “There, all done!”
“I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation, Ms. Mathew. This is a government investigation. If any word is leaked to the media, the press, or to your friends, you might end up going to jail.”
I tilted my head and studied him. He was really too cute, and I loved the stick up his butt. It would be nice to take it out and whack him on the head with it. “Duly warned, Special Agent Bryan. Thank you for your concern, but I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
“Where is Mr. Sanders? He is supposed to join us.”
“Oh, I am sure he will join us soon enough.” Colonel Sanders had picked the right day to show up. It would be interesting to watch the agent’s reaction when he was forced to deal with him. “Tell me, Special Agent, why were you chosen for this particular crime? Usually, special agents who are assigned to the commune are…more experienced.”
He drew himself to his full height. “I’m experienced.”
“You’re what? Twenty-four? Has it been six months since your training finished?”
He looked positively offended. “Twenty-five. And it has been a year.”
Ah! So he was the same age as me. But my experience in such matters far surpassed his. I looked at my nails. My orders were clear even if he was clueless. Poor bastard. He’d no idea what he was in for. “So you’re new.”
“I assure you, Ms. Mathew, I am quite capable of handling this investigation. What I don’t understand is why the FBI would need…your expertise? I mean, clearly…you have no qualifications for a criminal investigation.”
“Sad, isn’t it, when you’re not told the entire story.” I stood. “Pity, Special Agent Bryan. I’ll have to do the dirty deed for you.”
“What?”
I strolled to the window to join him. “I’m a mercenary, Agent Bryan. And the FBI hires my services, along with the rest of my team’s, from time to time, on matters that baffle them or are beyond their areas of expertise.”
“And what is your area of specialty, Ms. Mathew.”
I watched his face. The first reaction was always too comical. “Magic.”
“Magic?” He suppressed a snort. “Really?”
“Oh, yes. I’m a witch. But we generally use the term mage. It’s more gender neutral,” I informed him.
He looked at me as if I wasn’t quite right in the head. “A witch? Right.”
My favorite part. I nearly rubbed my hands in anticipation. “I can see that a demonstration will be in order.”
A warning would have been futile. With a tiny flick of my finger, Special Agent Bryan hovered above ground. The voice that came out of his throat could only be described as a squeal. Another flick made him shoot up six feet. Standing upright in mid-air, he flailed his arms in an attempt to gain control over his body. Feeling generous, I allowed him to walk around but maintained the altitude.
“What the hell?” Putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out his gun. He pointed it at me. “Let me down now, or I will shoot you.”
My response was to give him a good spin in the air. A far cry from the boring routine I’d been forced into for the past two weeks. It was kind of interesting to notice that he closed his eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t scream and he didn’t try to shoot me. Another plus point; the gun was still in his hands. Good man. He wasn’t fainthearted. Finally, I brought him to a stop. He was still a good six feet above the ground.
“Do you now understand my area of expertise, Agent Bryan?”
“Put me down this instant,” he yelled.
Not a man to be easily shaken. Hmm! It might be good for him to remain upside down for a little while. The blood flow to his head would likely improve his understanding. As I spun my finger in an attempt to bring him to an almost horizontal position, I was surprised to encounter resistance. He was actually trying to oppose my attempt to maneuver his body into a position I desired. Naturally, it didn’t work. He had no idea what he was fighting against, but I appreciated the effort he made. This would make it more interesting. The muscles in his arms and back bulged as he fought my effort. Enjoying his rebellion, I allowed him a moment of reprieve before his body straightened and hovered upside down above ground.
“Feeling relaxed?”
“Put me down now,” he yelled.
Augusta ran into the room. “Cleo! How dare you? Put him down. Now!”
Spoil sport!
“He didn’t know about us. I was just giving him a practical demonstration of our abilities.” With great care, I turned him upright and then brought him down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he pointed the gun at me. We both ignored him.
Augusta put her hands on her hips. If she were a dragon, she would have been snorting smoke out of her nose. Augusta liked to maintain decorum. And usually we clashed on that particular point. “He is a guest.”
“It states in the document I signed that I am to inform the Special Agent assigned with this task regarding all the information about our area of specialization. I was just doing my job,” I protested, tongue in cheek.
Colonel Sanders chose that moment to march into the room. “Attention! What’s going on? Why are you all milling about, wasting your time and not doing your assigned chores?”
At five feet four feet, he was short. But what he lacked in height, he made up in girth. His enormous stomach rolled over his trousers and jiggled with each movement. A thin moustache rode his upper lip, and a black, hairy mole decorated his right cheek.
“Special Agent Bryan has come with orders, sir,” said Augusta with a baleful glance in my direction. Clearly my transgression wasn’t forgiven and would be addressed later.
I didn’t care.
This was the beginning of an exciting adventure, and I was up for it.
Colonel Sanders walked right up to Bryan and jabbed a finger on his chest. “Why are you pointing that gun at my lieutenant, boy? Don’t they teach you anything in training?”
Looking baffled, Bryan lowered his gun. “Lieutenant?”
“Don’t ask,” I mouthed.
“Where are the orders you’ve brought?”
Bryan handed over the papers. Colonel Sanders lowered himself into a couch and embarked on a detailed study of the said document.
Bryan turned towards Augusta. “Colonel? I was not informed…”
“Silence!” Colonel Sanders yelled. “These papers are in order. I’ve signed. We must leave at once.”
I executed a perfect salute. “Yes, sir.”
Colonel Sanders marched out, his arms and legs moving in perfect union.
With a frustrated look on h
is face, Bryan ran his fingers through his hair. “Is he for real? I wasn’t told that he was a Colonel?”
“He is not. Sanders has a multiple personality disorder. His current personality, Theodore Sanders, believes he is a Colonel in the United States Army, under a special assignment to work with us on various cases.”
Bryan ran a hand over his forehead. “Multiple personality disorder? Is he fit to work?”
“Oh, he is more than capable of executing the current job, Special Agent Bryan.” I winked. “And just in case anything goes wrong, I’ll be there to protect your preppy ass.”
“Don’t you dare try your magic…or whatever the hell that trick was on me.”
The man recovered far faster than I anticipated. Some of them fainted. Now if I was to levitate him straight out of the window…one glance at Augusta’s stony face told me she wouldn’t tolerate anything else. Oh well, I’d had my fun for the day.
“Of course not, Special Agent Bryan. Not until you require another lesson in magic,” I said instead.
“Cleo. Behave!” Augusta’s tone was sharp and exasperated. She crossed her arms. “What’s the job?”
“Robberies. Five different cases in private museums all over the country. The thieves leave behind no prints, no sign of forced entry, and no tampering with the cameras. One moment the stuff is there, the next it is gone.”
“Ms. Mathew. You’re not allowed to discuss the case with anyone who is not assigned to this job,” he said in a voice that brimmed with frustration.
“Oops!” I raised my hand and mimicked zipping my lips. “Come on, Special Agent Bryan, Colonel Sanders doesn’t like to wait.”
“Who the hell are you guys?” he said, exasperated and confused.
I loved the way his lips pressed into a thin line. Agent Bryan looked hot even when he was mad. I grinned. “Believe it or not, we’re the good guys, Special Agent Bryan, and when the FBI has need to catch some really bad guys who are bent on doing some really bad things, they ask for our help, and we provide it…for a not so fair monetary compensation.”
He shook his head and walked out without saying a word. I winked at Augusta as we strode out. “You will be coming back at night?” she asked.
00 Mayan Thief (The FBI Paranormal Casefiles) Page 1