Wyvern Protection Unit - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Pain slashed through her middle, and she bit back a groan. Something was wrong, Was it her new matebond? Kimberley couldn’t tell. Maybe being mated to a Shifter created certain physical side effects.
She tried to breathe deep, but the stink of rot and Dark Magic made her woozy. Wait—how did she know what those smells were?
Because, was the growly reply in her head. Fuck. Now she was hearing things.
“Ready to meet your end?” her kidnapper taunted.
“You will never get away with this,” she growled her reply.
The man’s gaunt face stretched into a grotesque grin, his thin lips pulled tight over yellow and brown stained teeth. He was horrific to look at.
“Really? And who will stop me? Your mate is dead. Who knows? Maybe I will raise him to be part of my legion after I kill you, of course.”
He laughed aloud, the maniacal sound grating on her nerves. Kim wanted to hit him. He turned his head as if listening to something she could not hear before facing her, serious once more.
“Quiet now! The ritual is long, but I must be precise. There is power to be harnessed from such pain as I will bring you,” he mumbled and turned his back on her, thumbing through the spell book.
Baby? Are you there? Kim?
Larimar’s voice spoke inside her head, and whatever agitation she felt left. She clung to the hopes her mate would get there in time. But just in case, she did not want him to blame himself. She was lucky to have found him at all.
I’m here. Sorry, love. Got side-tracked. How much longer?
We are on our way, but he’s shielded your exact location, so I need you to keep talking to me, okay?
Okay. Listen, just in case anything happens to me⁠—
Nothing will happen, Kim. I swear it.
I know, I know. But he has a plan, Larimar. This guy is pure evil. He has a spell book. It appears to be written in Coptic, that was the Egyptian written language from the second century to the thirteenth.
You know I love you, Kim. But why the history lesson?
Cause I need to focus on something, so I don’t panic. Duh.
Why would you panic? Fuck, honey. Tell me everything. What is he doing?
I didn’t want to worry you. But he’s readying a ritual. He’s planning to slice off my skin to cover the book and channel power from my pain or some shit. Look, don’t worry. It’s not your fault.
Fuck that. It is my fault. I fucked up Kim. I am so sorry. But I swear, he won’t hurt you. He will never get the fucking chance. I fucking swear it.
Larimar’s angry growl filled her head, and she almost sighed aloud. Her mate was coming for her. And she had never felt so much love for one person before in her life.
It’s okay, Larimar. I am stronger than I look. And I love you.
I know, baby. I love you, too. I am gonna make it in time. I vow it.
I know. I believe you. Okay, just bear with me. I need to think so I don’t go nuts.
Anything you need, you do, baby. Talk to me. I am here.
Kimberley kept her mind wide open. She actively worked on projecting her thoughts to her mate and every now and then he answered, reassuring her he was coming.
It was harder than she thought—trying to think of things to, er, think. She turned her mind back to studying her surroundings. She described every stone wall, every window, and even the smell to her mate.
Her thoughts wandered back to the volume in the Necromancer’s hands. It was no doubt priceless. And next to it, on the table under a glass case, she spied the Emerald Tablet itself, or a damn good copy of one.
She’d never gotten the chance to study it, so she could not be sure. It was definitely the one she had unearthed herself during the Giza dig. The one Harold Jenkins had stolen and sold to this madman.
She cringed for a moment. Anger at what Harold had done warred with how he’d spent his last minutes. She had to let it go. He paid for what he did with his life. Could she forgive him, though? She wondered.
You can do anything, baby, just keep thinking out loud to me. Almost there.
Larimar’s gravelly voice was better than a hug in the dungeon like atmosphere.
If that’s what you think, I will work on my hugs.
He snorted after the thought, but she knew he was teasing her. Sweet, sexy man. She missed him so much.
Shh. I’m thinking here, you just flap those wings, mate.
I am, baby. I am.
Studying ancient languages was a hobby of hers, though she had yet to see the type of cuneiform like the ones gracing the gold etched leather mixed with Coptic text.
It would probably take her months to even form an alphabet that would make the tablet readable. And what then? What terrible and wonderful mysteries would be revealed? The philosopher’s stone or was it a myth?
Her kidnapper licked his black fingertips and thumbed through the grotesque volume in his hands. Looking for something evil and horrible, no doubt.
Fucking hell.
She couldn’t do anything about that, so she had to focus on what she knew. The volume he held so preciously was no regular spell book. It appeared to be a mini Book of the Dead.
She’d seen one or two of them in her travels. And yet, this was definitely something else—something darker. Her ears were unusually sensitive, and it was like the book moaned as the man gripped the leather cover tighter with his nails. As if his touch was bringing the book pain, or was that joy?
She could not tell. The color was off too. It was not tanned the way she would have expected from any ancient peoples. It seemed too fresh.
Perhaps he’d used skin to bind the thing the way the ancient Egyptian Dark practitioners did. But whose skin was that binding made out of? Harold came to mind, and Kimberley stifled the urge to vomit.
What had that person refused to do to be punished in such a way? She wrinkled her nose and studied the outer barrier from where she stood inside the prison cell that he’d set up in the middle of the room.
Why couldn’t it just be cow or goat skin? She cringed at her next thought, but there it was. The human skin that bound the terrible book looked too new to be dead.
It seemed porous and moist. Like it was washed and treated to a nightly rubdown with cream. Not the cheap crap either—more like the hundred dollar an ounce Elizabeth Arden real deal nightly renewal cream.
And was that hair? Oh shit. Kimberley’s mouth went dry. The fucker had found something to scare her with after all.
Gulp.
Um, baby? I am getting huge doses of fear from you. What is happening?
Larimar’s voice interrupted her train of thought and she turned her mind back to him. Thank goodness they had that telepathic connection. Her discovery had made her feel a bit less certain of her survival.
Nothing. I miss you.
Don’t hide from me. Tell me what’s happening.
Shit. She really did not want to tell him, but a human skin bound text used for Dark Magic was a big reason to be scared. The ancient Egyptians had several versions of them. She was not exactly an expert on ancient occultism, but she was not naïve either.
“We will begin the ritual now,” the Necromancer turned his head as if speaking to someone she could not see. “Bring her to me,” he commanded.
Kimberley felt invisible hands wrap around her arms and legs. They were cold and hard like vises as they squeezed her limbs and dragged her forward from the opposite side of the room. She struggled and yelled only to feel one of those ghostly hands slap her across the face. It was like being hit with a baseball bat.
Kim! What is happening?
I’m okay. But he is starting the ritual. Hurry, Larimar.
“Do not struggle, dear, I would hate to bruise your lovely skin. After all, it will grace the cover of my book for a very long time,”
The Necromancer smiled, and Kim drew back in horror. The black gums surrounding his teeth were bleeding—at least, she thought it was blood. It was so dark and sludge-like she could not be sure.
“You have no idea what you are doing.”
“I know exactly what I am doing. I will raise and control an unstoppable army of the undead. World leaders will have no choice but to give me what I want. Money, power, control. I will rule them all,” he sneered, his eyes wide and glossy with crazed intent.
“The monsters you unleash on this world won’t obey you. You know that, right? I’ve studied all the ancient texts. These things were locked away for a reason.”
“And yet you spent your career unearthing them,” he grunted. “Don’t be mad because I figured out the way to use the secrets those ancient priests tried to hide. You are just as guilty as I am⁠—”
“I wanted to study the past to build a better future. You are trying to control the world. We are not the same!” Kimberley spat at him.
“Stupid human. I’ve spent years building this control. I will soon have it all. Thanks to you,” he sneered.
“I will never obey you.”
“Once dead, you will have no choice. You will heed my command and translate the tablet. Then I will have ultimate control⁠—”
“You really are crazy if you think that,” she scoffed, struggling against whatever was pushing her down onto the altar he’d built. “The Emerald Tablet’s secrets aren’t for this world. You aren’t strong enough to hold them, you jerk! You will go down for this,” she ground out around a bony hand squeezing her face.
“And just who will stop me? Look around. Who is here to save you, Miss Scott?”
The Necromancer smirked and nodded as his invisible minions pulled on her limbs, tying her down with metal straps to the cold stone table. Fear gripped her, and with it a trembling rage that made her entire body vibrate. Pain started in her stomach and shot through her limbs like lightning bolts. What the hell was happening to her?
"Stay still, Miss Scott. This will hurt. A lot,” he sneered.
Before he could advance on her, the ceiling shook as four huge crashing thumps landed on it. Kimberley shouted in relief, though her body was still on fire. A laser-like stream of flame shot a burning hole through the roof of the old glass factory where the Necromancer had brought her, and she could hear her mate’s thunderous roar rattling the rafters.
“Larimar!” she screamed, arching up off the table.
“It’s impossible!” The Necromancer shouted.
Wyvern Shifters, telepathic communication, Necromancers, fated mates—the world was full of impossible things, as Kimberley had discovered the past few days. And just when she thought she’d seen it all, her body started to break.
Burning pain coursed through her veins and her last thoughts as she met the blue-gray-green eyes of her Wyvern mate were ones of love and regret.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait for you, Larimar. I love you.