Curse of the Necronomicon (The Myth Hunter Book 3)

by Percival Constantine

  “So what?” asked Elisa, looking into Lucas’ green eyes. “We turn back the clock on the past few years and go back to working together?”

  “All I’m sayin’ is you’ve gotta figure out what it is you want to do,” said Lucas.

  Roland approached them from the front of the plane and offered a smile as if he were a friend joining the conversation. “Have fun catching up?”

  “Not quite done yet, why don’t you give us a few more hours?” asked Lucas. “If you’re looking for a way to kill time, maybe you can see if there’s a surgical procedure to separate your lips from Clarke’s liver-spotted ass.”

  “Witty to the end, eh Davalos?” asked Roland.

  “Depends on whose end we’re talking about.”

  “I hope you enjoyed the vacation you took on Mr. Clarke’s dime. Because I guarantee that he’ll see to it you pay for every cent you squandered.”

  “Wasn’t quite finished.” Lucas glanced down at the gold watch around his wrist. “Should actually be at my spa day right now.”

  “You said Clarke would show us how foolish we were to doubt him. What’d you mean by that?” asked Elisa.

  “Hell if I know,” said Roland. “Those were his words, he just asked me to pass them on. We’ll be landing within the hour, so I’m betting you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “That’s for Mr. Clarke to decide.”

  “Doesn’t tell you a whole lot, does he? Guess errand boys aren’t in the circle of trust,” said Lucas.

  Roland back-handed Lucas across his jaw. The blow was strong enough that Lucas’ head rocked to the side and a red welt appeared where he had been hit. Lucas blinked a moment then turned his head and smiled up at Roland. “Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve been slapped.”

  “I’ll try to contain my surprise,” said Roland.

  “Funny story about that, actually. Before I went to Thailand, I spent some time in the Philippines. Shacked up with this nurse. Wisp of a thing, I’m talking ninety pounds soaking wet.”

  Roland folded his arms and glanced up at the ceiling, already bored by Lucas’ tale.

  “She lived with her sister, right? One day, she comes home early from her shift and finds me and her sister…” Lucas chuckled and continued. “Well…I don’t think I have to draw a diagram.”

  Roland shut his eyes, his patience being tested. “What’s your point?”

  “The point is that was the last time I was slapped,” said Lucas, staring up at Roland. “And here’s the funny part of the story—she could hit a lot harder than you.”

  Lucas broke into laughter and Roland responded to it by punching him in the abdomen. Lucas coughed and gagged, bending over. Roland smiled in smug satisfaction and placed his hands on his hips.

  “Still funny?”

  Lucas gasped and said, “No.” He struggled to lean back in the seat and took a deep breath. That breath quickly turned into another chuckle. “Wait…I was wrong. It’s still pretty damn funny.”

  Roland struck him again and Elisa leaned over Lucas to block Roland from delivering a third punch. “That’s enough!”

  Roland relaxed and jabbed a finger in Lucas’ direction. “I’ll be sure to ask for Mr. Clarke to give me an hour alone in a room with you. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

  “Sounds romantic. Just so you know, I don’t put out unless a guy’s bought me dinner first,” said Lucas.

  “Enough!” Elisa glared at Lucas. Roland took a deep breath to calm his anger and then returned to the front of the plane.

  Lucas still couldn’t help his chuckling, but the hard stare of his former partner caused him to stop with a sigh. “What?”

  “Are you trying to get yourself thrown off this plane?” asked Elisa.

  “Oh to hell with him, he’s a prick,” said Lucas. “Besides, the most he’ll do is rough me up a bit. Clarke wants me alive so he can deal with me personally.”

  “Yeah, that’s a relief…” muttered Elisa.

  “Relax.” Lucas leaned closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Once we’re off this plane, we can make our escape.”

  “Yeah, and just the little problem of dealing with his hired guns.”

  “We’re not talking about the Order’s assassins, we’re talking bargain basement mercs. Soon as we’re off this boat, we take care of business and make a run for it.”

  “And what about Asami? You heard Roland, they’ve got people following her,” said Asami.

  “I’m pretty sure she can handle herself.”

  “Not the point.”

  “Look, when the time comes, just follow my lead,” said Lucas.

  Elisa sat back in her seat. She turned her head away from Lucas to look out the window. Night would come soon and she wondered just what if anything Asami was able to turn up. Elisa wished she still had access to her phone so she could call for an update, but Roland took it off her and destroyed it before they boarded the plane.

  The next hour went by in silence. Not a peep came from a soul within the aircraft until it touched down on a private airfield. Roland and his men raised their weapons once the plane came to a stop, all seven guns fixed squarely on Elisa and Lucas. Roland grabbed Lucas by his hair and pulled him to his feet. Lucas cringed, but made no comment, though Elisa was sure he wanted to. They allowed her to stand under her own power and treated her kindly—relative to Lucas, anyway.

  The hatch opened and the staircase was lowered. There were another two dozen men on the ground, all of them with automatic weapons aimed squarely at the prisoners. Elisa whispered to Lucas, “Bargain basement, huh?”

  “Shut up,” he said.

  Waiting for them at the foot of the steps was none other than Sebastian Clarke himself, seated in his wheelchair, fingers steepled together and his lips spread wide, revealing teeth yellowed by age.

  “Lucas Davalos, so good to see you again,” he hissed.

  “Sebby,” said Lucas.

  “What made you think you could simply steal my money without consequence?” asked Sebastian.

  “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d live until I completed the contract,” said Lucas. “So I was just playing the odds.”

  Roland delivered a punch that struck Lucas’ jaw and brought him to his knees. He knelt for a moment and spat out blood, then smiled up at Roland with red-stained teeth. “Still no better than the nurse.”

  Roland bent down and pulled Lucas up to his feet. Sebastian’s smile had faded from his face and he was clearly no longer amused by Lucas’ actions. He now directed his attention to Elisa.

  “And you. I gave you a golden opportunity to make a good deal of money. Yet you throw it away, and for what?” A wrinkled, bony hand gestured towards Lucas. “This…reprobate?”

  “You wanted me to find him so you could kill him,” said Elisa. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Tell me, do you really believe the world would be any worse off if Lucas Davalos were no longer among its inhabitants?”

  “Be less interesting, that’s for damn sure,” said Lucas.

  “Believe me, no one is more aware of Lucas’ moral deficiencies than me,” said Elisa.

  “Thanks, Elsie. I love you, too.”

  “But that’s not the point. He was ordered to kill me not too long ago, but he didn’t. Instead, he let me go and put his own life at risk in the process. Like it or not, I owe him a debt and I pay my debts, Mr. Clarke.”

  Sebastian grunted. “A very noble sentiment, Ms. Hill. But ultimately misguided. By aiding Mr. Davalos, you have tied your fate to his.”

  “C’mon Sebby, we can make this right.” Lucas took a step towards the old man and his guards displayed their intention to perforate him if he made another movement. The mercenary held up his hands. “Look, you paid me half a mil, I can give you a refund if it’s that important to you. We can settle this peacefully.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “It’s not about the money. I co
uld use the amount I provided you as toilet paper if I were so inclined and be no worse off.”

  “There’s a nice image…” muttered Elisa.

  Sebastian ignored Elisa’s comment and pointed at Lucas. “It’s the sheer amount of disrespect you showed towards me and my beliefs.” He turned the finger to Elisa next. “Both of you for that matter.” He folded his hands and set them in his lap. “There are many beliefs in this world that most would snicker at. But the pair of you have seen enough to know better. You are aware that fringe theories are not so ridiculous. So your mockery of me is inexcusable.”

  “Let me get this straight,” said Elisa. “You’re going to have your men execute us because we hurt your feelings?”

  “Not at all,” said Sebastian. “Rather, I’m going to show you the folly of your youthful ignorance. I’m going to show you that the Necronomicon is indeed real. And I have you to thank for it, Ms. Hill.”

  Elisa blinked at the statement. She placed a hand against her chest. “Me?”

  “Your reputation precedes you. I knew that whether you accepted my offer or not, your curiosity would compel you to see if the Necronomicon did in fact exist. And thanks to the efforts of your associate, I believe it has been uncovered. I had my men track her movements, follow her to a psychiatric hospital in Rhode Island. Judging by the activity in the last report, she has stumbled upon something unexpected.”

  “That’s why you’ve raised this army,” said Elisa, glancing around at the men with guns pointed at her. “It’s not for us, is it?”

  “Don’t flatter yourselves,” said Sebastian. “If my end game was to kill you, Roland could have accomplished as much on his own.”

  Lucas snickered. “Looks like your belief in the ridiculous extends to your help.”

  Roland almost delivered another blow to Lucas, but a hand gesture from Sebastian halted him before he could throw a punch. He relaxed himself and folded his arms.

  “That’s what you and Roland meant, you’re planning to take us with you,” said Elisa. “You want us to see you get your wrinkled old hands on that book.”

  Sebastian’s yellow-tooth grin was wider than ever. “We will leave immediately.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Asami’s hands and feet were bound by heavy, iron chains. Even with her strength, the restraints were impossible to break. The orderlies—if they even were that in reality—flanked her, with one holding a firm grip on each of her arms and followed the Dark Priest down the stairwell into an underground area.

  He led them down into a very large basement area constructed completely of concrete. Asami figured this place may have once been a bomb shelter built during the Cold War. She also wasn’t the only prisoner—Hudson was also brought down with her. With the markings on his body, Asami imagined he must have been integral to whatever rituals went on down here.

  There was already a gathering of a few dozen people waiting for them in a large clearing. They made a path for the Dark Priest and he continued on ahead, with the orderlies dragging Asami and Hudson behind. Asami saw a dais up ahead and upon it sat what appeared to be a sort of altar. Just large enough for a human. Freshly-lit candles lined the dais, the only real source of illumination. There were light fixtures in the ceiling, but Asami guessed they didn’t see much use. On the wall behind the dais was a mural, depicting raging oceans and a massive creature rising from them with burning, emerald eyes. The beast had bat-like wings protruding from its back and a head that looked like a squid with tentacles in place of a jaw.

  “Well, that’s not foreboding at all…” muttered Asami.

  The Dark Priest ascended the steps to the dais and moved behind the altar, staring up at the mural with his arms outstretched and his back to the crowd. The orderlies pushed Asami up, trying to force her onto the altar. She tried to struggle, but their strength seemed almost inhuman and there were too many of them. It was only a few moments before she was laid out on the altar, staring up at the ceiling. Her body was stretched out spread-eagle, and she heard the sound of metal scraping against metal, then locks clamping shut. The orderlies moved away from the dais, except for the one who kept a firm grip on Hudson, escorting him to the side of the altar.

  Asami pulled on the chains and found they were firmly locked in place. She was fixed in this position and she groaned, resting her head on the cold concrete of the altar. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the Dark Priest turn towards the crowd, his arms still spread out, fingers outstretched. She turned her head as much as she could towards the people and saw them all kneel down before the dais.

  “I am so going to kill Elisa…”

  The Dark Priest moved his hands into his robe. Asami stared up at him with her copper eyes as defiant as ever. “Hey Padre, what’s the deal here, huh? You into the kinky stuff? You jackin’ it under that robe?”

  He didn’t offer a response, but brought his hands out from the robe. They were no longer empty. In his grip was a ceremonial dagger with a curved blade that was far too dull to be metal. It must have been crafted from bone and there were runes and sigils carved into its surface. The Dark Priest clasped the handle tightly in both hands and raised it over the altar, with the blade pointed straight down at Asami. He began to speak in a language Asami had never heard before and she closed her eyes. If she concentrated, she hoped she could muster enough power to generate a fireball, but with her current position, she doubted it would hit anything other than the ceiling.

  Asami shut her eyes. “So this is how it ends, huh? Sacrificed by some insane death cult. Somehow, I’m not terribly surprised by that.”

  The dagger never fell. A loud boom echoed in the basement, like the sound of a bomb going off. Asami opened her eyes and saw the Dark Priest holding the dagger by his side and staring off to the other side in confusion. Asami turned her head to see what he’d seen and she saw all the cultists moving towards the darkened staircase. Muzzle flashes were the only light Asami could see in the black, but the cries of people as they died and the echoing of gunshots were enough to tell her what was going on. She just didn’t know why.

  Men in black descended the steps, emerging from the darkness and holding automatic weapons. The cultists advanced upon them, but the soldiers quickly dispatched them. With no weapons of their own, the cultists were easy fodder for these mysterious commandos.

  The Dark Priest glared at his captive. “Are you responsible for this?”

  “Uh, you were just about to sacrifice me, what right do you have to be indignant?” asked Asami.

  The Dark Priest shouted something to the cultist who kept a grip on Hudson. He nodded and pulled Hudson behind the altar, forcing him to the ground. The Dark Priest held the dagger in his right hand and stepped around to the front of the dais. He held out his left hand with fingers outstretched just as his eyes crackled with occult power. The commandos aimed their guns at him and he just stood there defiant, evidently not the least bit concerned about the fate that awaited him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  One of the commandos struggled with his weapon, his hands going into a spasm. He tried to maintain his control, but the shaking only got worse with his resistance. His movements drew the confused stares of his teammates.

  “The hell are you doing?”

  The commando spun his body towards his colleague and opened fire. The rounds punched through the man’s black clothing, spraying blood and dropping him to the ground. The other commandos all turned on their apparent traitor, but he screamed his innocence.

  “It’s not me! I didn’t mean to do that, I sw—”

  They weren’t having any of it and pumped him full of hot lead. Asami knew the man was telling the truth. From the way the Dark Priest threw her around, she was well aware of just what sort of power he possessed. She didn’t know who these mysterious soldiers were, but she also knew that she didn’t want to just wait to see who came out on top. While she pulled at her chains, trying in vain to break them, the Dark Priest took on his opponents.


  A cold wind blew through the shelter and she could only watch as the Dark Priest tossed the commandos around like rag dolls. His telekinetic powers redirected any bullets fired at him, sometimes throwing them right back into the man who pulled the trigger or curving them around his body into one of the other soldiers. A few of the commandos were forced to fire on each other and it wasn’t long until the battle came to a bloody conclusion, and only the sound of silence and the stench of death lingered in the air.

  The Dark Priest stood there in the center of the room, casting his eyes upon the bodies of his followers and the men who gunned them down. Blood pooled around his feet and he seemed little more than mildly annoyed at the turn of events. He turned, approaching the dais once more and ascended the steps. Again, he raised the dagger and stared down into Asami’s eyes.

  “No more setbacks. The ritual must be complete. Then, my torment can finally come to an end.”

  Blood splattered on Asami’s face and the Dark Priest’s body collapsed on top of her. She strained her neck to see what happened and saw the outline of a lone man approaching from the stairwell. He had short, blond hair, dressed in the same clothing as the commandos, and he was the last person Asami expected to save her life. At least a second time.

  “Goddammit, Roland!” she said. “Never thought I’d be happy to see you again!”

  Roland kept his gun up in one hand and pulled the Dark Priest’s body from Asami with the other, letting him fall to the ground. He peered past Asami, almost like he didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Roland kept the gun up and moved around the altar, aiming it at the sole remaining cultist, who was huddled over Hudson.

  “Get up,” he said. “Slowly. Hands where I can see them.”

  The cultist did as he was told, clasping his hands to his head as he stood. Roland grabbed him by the collar of his scrubs and shoved him face-first against the wall.

  “Asami!”

  Asami looked back to the stairwell and saw four more commandos. Elisa and Lucas were there, too, but each of them was sandwiched by their own pair of guards. Elisa’s eyes went wide at the sight of all the death present in the room, but Lucas and the soldiers didn’t seem to care too much about it.