Rise of the Wadjet Witch - By Juliet C. Obodo Page 0,48
where are you? Why did you leave? Is everything all right?” He sounded so concerned that Memphis felt guilty for just leaving without any notice.
“I’m sorry; I don’t know why. No, actually, that’s a lie. Yes I do.” She told him about the horoscope she found next her when she awoke. She explained that it was her subconscious warning her.
“Yes, I know. That’s happened to me before. That’s how I found out about my fiancée cheating on me.”
“You were engaged?”
“Yes, I was, but that was two years ago, another life. How could you think that the horoscope was referring to me? I was inside of you; you would have been able to tell if I was a psychotic cult member.”
“I’m sorry.”
“When I tapped into you last night, didn’t you feel my energy? You would have received some warning if my thoughts weren’t pure, and I wouldn’t have been able to access your mind. Well, my thoughts were pure of violence, anyway,” he said in a husky voice.
“Yes, I guess it was a little crazy of me. I just don’t have any idea who’s behind this.” She blushed, thankful he couldn’t see her red cheeks.
“I can send you the police sketch, or maybe we can try the Transmission over the phone?”
“I think the police sketch for now. Not sure if I can handle any more action up there today.”
“I don’t blame you. I just sent it to your e-mail address at the paper.”
While Memphis waited for the e-mail, Lawrence explained the progress they had made.
“These people are evil and crazy. We’ve figured out how they choose the victims; I really should have noticed the pattern sooner. They have all been featured in news stories: the teacher who stopped a shooting before it actually happened, the stock analyst with amazing market predictions, and the lotto winner who said, and I quote, ‘the numbers just came to me one day.’ Oh, and technically, Memphis, I’ve never been in your bed. You’ve slept in mine.”
He was right. She received his e-mail and opened the attachment. She gaped at the sketch on the screen. She was an idiot; he’d been right in front of her all along. Secrets—a life filled with secrets. He lived in the dark and worked under the stars. She gasped.
“Did you receive the picture?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong? Do you recognize him?”
Of course she recognized him. They had worked side by side for an entire year.
The face belonged to Jonathan.
She told Lawrence that the man was her former boss and mentor. She left out his role as her lover. Lawrence instructed her to meet him at Pullman Hall immediately. He would call Gabriella and she would bring backup.
“Now?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, we don’t have much time. The murders take place every ten days; they are following the Egyptian calendar and its decans. Each decan rises above the horizon at dawn for ten days every year. And, according to the medical examiner’s office, they were killed around midnight, but it could have been earlier. It’s eight, so they probably might still be setting up the kill room.”
Kill room? Someone had been watching a bit too much Showtime.
They had to stop the next murder. Memphis’ cab arrived half past eight, and Lawrence was waiting for her outside. They quickly ran into the observatory, but instead of finding a bloody corpse, they found Jonathan wearing a smug expression and a horrible sweater vest.
“Why, hello, Memy.” He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
“Memy?” Lawrence shot her a confused look..
“Memy is standing beside you, and I don’t know of any other girl. Who the hell are you?”
“We know who you really are, Jonathan. I know everything; you’re one of The Seventy-Two.”
Jonathan let out a loud bark of laughter. “My dear, if you think that I’m one of The Seventy-Two, then you don’t know anything. You were always sadly deluded, but I enjoyed having you around. An actual Wadjet as my sexual plaything—ah, such a delight. Who needed a puppy when I had you?”
“Now, that’s enough. You will not speak to her that way.” Lawrence turned to Memphis. “He’s right. He isn’t one of The Seventy-Two; he is just a follower. He’s their puppy.”
“You watch yourself, young man. This puppy can bite.” He showed them the tattoo on his chest. “I may not be a True Born, but I have been able to procure some powers.” He gave them a Cheshire smile.
“Now who is the deluded one? Those women were not psionic. I gave the lottery winner the