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“Report,” I said as Jasper and Zayn approached.
“They’ve got her in some kind of container. It got loaded onto a ship, and they set off an hour ago. We tried to sneak on, but there was a lot of security. We’ve managed to get the direction they are going in, and we’ve hired a boat to follow them.”
I turned to Fallon. “Where are you taking her?”
“Somewhere you won’t find her,” Fallon spat. I shook my head slowly, then my hand shot out and wrapped around his scrawny throat. “I will rip you to shreds, Fallon, slowly, and feast on your entrails, so don’t mess with me.”
The old man paled and scratched ineffectively at my wrist. I let him go, and he sucked in a breath. “Savages,” he muttered. “I don’t know where they are going. It wasn’t me who organised it, it was Lucas Coulton.”
“Who the fuck is Lucas Coulton?” I asked.
“He works for the order. I don’t like him much myself, he doesn’t show the same kind of allegiance to the great Amun, but I stay on his good side, you know. He’s dangerous. All I know is that I was to bring him in if I ever managed to get Lady Victoria in my custody. It was happenstance she showed up on my doorstep.” He smiled up at me. “She must really hate you all to choose eternal torture over a life with you.”
I slapped him across the face. I’d wanted to punch him, but I probably would have killed the evil little fucker.
“What do you mean, eternal torture?” Wesley queried, stepping forward.
Fallon grinned at him, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. “Well, she can’t be killed, can she? And if we do, she’ll just reincarnate. So the plan was to perform some sort of sorcery over the sarcophagus, one that would ensure she couldn’t escape or—”
“No, you didn’t, tell me you didn’t,” Jasper said, pushing his way over to us. He grabbed Fallon by his shirt, his lengthening claws ripping through the fabric.
“Didn’t what?” I asked, turning to him. “Jasper, what have they done to her?”
“It’s an ancient ritual, but I don’t know how unless...” He turned back to Fallon. “This Coulton, does he wear anything with a cobra on it? A pendant, perhaps, or a signet ring?”
“He wears a snake signet ring. What of it?” Fallon snapped.
Jasper turned to me, his eyes turning gold. “It’s an ancient ritual, but it’s one known only to those who follow Apophis. The sarcophagus traps the soul inside the body and ensures the body’s survival no matter what.”
“Coulton is working for Apophis?” I frowned at him.
Jasper nodded. “The Golden Dawn is a cover. Apophis is taking Tory out of the picture. He wants her gone, or his followers do. They must be planning something. This ritual would mean she would stay alive no matter what as long as she is trapped inside the sarcophagus. I’m assuming they are heading out to sea to drop it. Either that, or they are heading to Egypt to bury her alive. We have to get to them now.”
A cold, heavy feeling settled inside me at the thought of Tory trapped inside that prison for eternity. How could they... Did they know what happened last time? There was no way, but I couldn’t let it happen again.
“Get us to the boat.” I turned to Fallon. “Thank you, my lord, you’ve been most useful. I’m afraid it appears I won’t have time to feast on your entrails, sadly, but I also can’t have you warning anybody either.”
Fallon’s eyes widened, and he stepped back. “West...”
I smiled, allowing my teeth to lengthen in my mouth and my claws to extend. “I pray that Ma’at finds you wanting, Lord Fallon.” I leapt forward, knocking him onto his back. I heard the thud as his head hit the concrete of the dock. He groaned, but just for a moment, until I leaned down and tore his throat out. I raked at his belly, opening him up, before I stood and kicked his body into the water. “I guess the fish will feast on your entrails instead,” I muttered.
“West, the boat.” I looked up at Jack’s words and nodded, pulling off my jacket and my shirt, which was now drenched in Fallon’s blood.
I walked along the dock and climbed down into the speedboat, glancing over at Jasper. “Let’s go. I’ve got the taste for blood now, and I want more.”
Chapter six
TORY
Ikeptmyeyesclosed the whole time. For some reason, that felt slightly better than opening my eyes and only seeing the blackness that surrounded me. The straps held me tightly, but I could feel the sarcophagus being shifted around. The vibrations travelling through my prison told me that we were moving for some time before there were more deliberate movements. I tried to swallow the blind panic that overcame me as I felt the container swing.
They were clearly using some kind of winch to lift the thing, and Coulton’s words came back to me—how they might decide to lower me into a deep hole and bury me. As the sarcophagus settled again on the ground, I couldn’t hold the panic in any longer, and I began to scream as loud as I could. I didn’t know if anyone could hear me. Even if they could, no one came to open the lids, and eventually I grew quiet, my energy depleted. Tears ran down the sides of my face and into my hair. My face grew damp and clammy under the metal death mask. I could feel the metal, warmed from my skin, pressing against my face, and I shuddered at the feel of it. All I could think of was the beautiful death mask of Tutankhamun I had seen once at the British Museum when it had done a tour with Howard Carter’s collection. I doubted mine was as elaborate. Death masks had been created by the ancient Egyptians so that the soul, once free, could recognise the body in the afterlife, and they were also thought to guard the person from evil spirits. The curses Coulton had placed on my sarcophagus would ensure that my spirit would never regain its freedom and that I would never find my way to the afterlife.
My own education told me these things, but the memories stirring in the back of my mind fed the knowledge with a deeper, more spiritual understanding of how damning my situation was beyond even the blind panic and fear of death. I began to gasp for breath, my chest heaving.
You’re hyperventilating. You need to calm down, or the oxygen will run out faster. Just breathe. Stay alive long enough for them to find us.
The words floated through my mind, but they weren’t mine. The voice I remembered filled me with a sense of comfort, even in my situation. I felt slightly calmer. I thought over the words and tried to remember whose voice it was, but it eluded me. All that came to me was a feeling of déjà vu. I’d been in a similar situation before, but last time I hadn’t been alone. I took a couple of deeper breaths, forcing myself to calm. It didn’t really matter this time though, I realised. Even if the oxygen ran out, Coulton had assured me this coffin would keep me alive no matter what. I guessed I wouldn’t suffocate, though that didn’t stop my physical instinct to breathe.
