I turned onto Ocean View, windows down so that I could feel the early-morning breeze blow through, hear the sounds and smell the scents of the ocean.
It was going to be a busy day. There were a lot of things I needed to do and one or two others I wanted to. Top of the latter list was attending the reading of Vicki’s Will. Jeff had actually suggested (strongly) I not go. If he’d had his normal presence of mind, he would have remembered that the reading was today. I felt a little bad about not reminding him. But only a little.
Vicki’s mother is fairly ruthless and a little unscrupulous. I worried that if I didn’t attend the reading, things could mysteriously . . . happen to the original Will. Yeah, it sucks to be that paranoid, but my own mom is no prize, so I have low expectations. Such were my none-too-pleasant musings when my cell phone rang. Swearing, I tried to keep my eyes on the road and the steering wheel steady with my left hand while I rummaged in my purse with my right.
I managed to get my hands on the phone without doing anything unfortunate and flicked it open, hitting the buttons to answer and put it on speaker. “Celia here.”
“Oh good, I caught you.”
I recognized Warren’s voice immediately. He wasn’t the first person I’d called about Ren’s little gift. I’d tried to ring Bruno the moment I was outside the facility’s cell phone–jamming range, but he didn’t answer. I really hoped to get his take on it. Even more important, I had a couple of questions about the death curse and the mark on my palm. Like why hadn’t anyone noticed it before this and, oh, I dunno, maybe, how the hell can we get rid of it? But with the time difference on the East Coast, he was probably already at work, doing something where he couldn’t take calls. I’d left a voice mail. Even if he didn’t get back to me today, I was pretty sure he’d be at my hearing tomorrow. Then I’d called Warren.
Now, I couldn’t help but smile. “What’s up?”
“I called a friend of mine over at UCLA. If you can put off your visit to the campus until four, I’ve arranged a videoconference call with her. She’s very interested to see your Wadjeti. If it’s as old and as powerful as you say, she’d like to arrange to come up and see it in person. She seemed astonished that you’d have such a thing.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, while there are a number of imitation, mass-manufactured sets that have hit the market in the past few years, there are only two complete ancient Wadjeti on hand. One is on display in the Smithsonian. The other’s in a museum in Cairo.”
Wow. All right then. Just to make sure we were actually talking about the same thing I said, “Well, Ren called it a Wadjeti. Basically it’s a carved box containing a bunch of thumb-sized scarabs of different colors with symbols carved onto the bottom of each.”
“That’s a Wadjeti all right. Used correctly they’re extremely accurate tools for divination.”
Which meant it would be pretty much useless to me. “As soon as your friend has had her look at it, I’m locking it up in the safe. It’s got enough juice that my hand’s still tingling and it knocked Ren flat on her ass.” I continued, “Did you have any luck on the curse?”
“Possibly. Dr. Sloan agreed to come by the office and take a look at you while you’re here. He seemed pretty skeptical. Said that if you’d had it long and the curse was that strong, one of us surely would’ve noticed it back when you were a student.”
“Unless it got put on me after.” I checked the mirror and changed lanes. If I wasn’t going straight to the university, I might as well stop by the office before the Will reading. I wanted to check on Dawna, my secretary and friend, and there were no doubt plenty of messages and other things to take care of. I’d also be able to put Ren’s gift behind wards until it was time to head for the university. Maybe I was being overly cautious, but better safe than sorry.
“Always a possibility.” Warren agreed. “Aaron has class until four fifteen, but he said he’d stop by my office right after.”
“I really appreciate all of this, Warren.”
He laughed. “I don’t mind. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to seeing the artifact. And curses are always fascinating.”
“Particularly to the cursee.” My voice practically dripped sarcasm.
Warren knows me too well to be offended. He laughed and said, “Just be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you before you can get here.”
“Your lips to God’s ear.” I hit the end button on the phone.
I felt better. Oh, I was still worried, but Warren was on the job. If there was a way out from under this, he’d find it. In the meantime, it was a beautiful day in sunny Cali. I wasn’t locked up. Things could definitely be worse.
Even thinking something like that is tempting fate. But hey, no risk, no gain.
After only a few minutes on the freeway I turned off and went tooling through the older section of the city. I felt the familiar sharp tingle as I passed over the wards around the parking lot of the building where I have my offices, pulled into my usual parking spot, and hopped out of the car.
My offices are on the third floor of an old Queen Anne–style Victorian mansion. It’s a beautiful building, perfectly tended. I took a deep breath, soaking in the scent of flowering shrubs and stately old palms. But I discovered the careful order was only surface deep. Because when I stepped through the door I learned a new definition of chaos.
Anyone who is used to having their office life organized by a really efficient secretary knows the kind of hell that breaks loose when said secretary is out.
It was instantly obvious to me that Dawna had not opened the office this morning—and that she probably hadn’t been in for a couple of days at least. The phone was ringing off the hook, and as I raced to answer it I stumbled into a pile of UPS parcels behind the desk. The unmistakable smell of caramelized coffee was floating out of the kitchen, and somewhere in the middle distance I heard a cat yowling. A cat?
“What the hell?” Skirting the boxes, I managed to dive behind the desk. All four lines were ringing. I answered each and put them all on hold, then raced to the kitchen to take the coffeepot off the burner. I didn’t feel like picking shards of glass out of my feet for a week if the carafe shattered from overcooking. With that crisis averted, I began wading through the rest of the mess. After about fifteen minutes and the third insulting and irate caller, I resolved that I never, ever, was going to be a secretary. I truly don’t the temperament. Still, I managed to sort through things well enough that Ron, the attorney whose office is on the first floor, actually opened his door and looked out to see why the ruckus had stopped. Not that he had made any effort whatsoever to help stop the ruckus. But that was Ron, down to his probably pedicured toenails.
I’d noticed there were people in the waiting room, and while my higher brain function recognized them, I didn’t have time to deal with them until I could actually breathe.
When there was enough room to sit down behind the reception desk, I turned to face the visitors.
The man in the closest chair was John Creede. I was more than a little surprised to see him. He’s one half of Miller & Creede, the largest security firm in the country, and Bruno’s future boss. Creede might have enjoyed second billing, but I’d met both Miller and Creede and Creede was the one with real power magically. He’d been at Vicki’s wake, guarding her mother, Cassandra. Who was she being guarded from? Why, yours truly, of course.