The Megiddo Mark, Part 1 (5 page)

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Authors: Mackenzie Lucas

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“You found this book on the floor?”

“Yes.” Of course she didn’t say she found it on the floor in two different sections with two entirely different titles. He’d think her deranged.

“Impossible,” he muttered. “It’s been dormant for thirty-five years.”

“I’m not following you.”

Joshua grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

Malena yanked hard, staggering when he loosened his hold.
She instinctively hid her pulsing left hand behind her back.

“Show me your left hand,” he said.

“Why?” She turned her palm up to show him anyway. “It’s only a little welt. I think I must have burned it–” She gasped. Sputtered.

Where the red spot had existed a few moments ago now a tattoo the size of an Eisenhower dollar marked her palm. The intricate pattern mesmerized her. She stared at it in wonder. In horror. The image of the lacey flower from the square of paper she’d found in
Flights of Fancy
now stamped the palm of her hand.

“How the hell? What the devil happened to my hand?” She choked on the words
, snatching her hand away from the old man to stare at it up close.

A tattoo. She had to be hallucinating. She shook her head and closed her eyes, opening them again. Slow, careful. She’d been under a lot of stress the last few days. Exhaustion. That had to be the answer. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Maybe she’d experienced a delayed reaction from last night? Adrenaline had that effect on some people. She rubbed hard at the spot. The mark didn’t smear.

“It’s not from hell, Ms. Alexander. Or the devil. Quite the contrary to be exact,” Joshua said. The tone of his voice had changed. She heard fewer growls and more of what sounded like awe.

Malena looked at him, trying to hear his quiet words. Her whole body trembled. She hesitated, but desperate for understanding, bent closer. She wouldn’t like any explanation Joshua Dellacourt gave her now, or ever, but she needed answers. So she stayed when all she wanted to do was run. Fast.

“Looks like you are the owner. And what’s more, you’re now also the Guardian.” He turned and walked away from her for the second time in a few moments. He headed down a dark hallway to the back of the shop. “You had better follow me,” he said, turning to her as an afterthought.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m the owner, I told you so just a few minutes ago. Joshua, do you have a problem hearing?” She hurried after him.

“Nope.” He continued walking. “Perfect hearing.”

He stopped at an office door, pulling a large ring of old keys from his pocket; he slipped one into the lock and pushed open the door. He sat the book down on the desk, easing himself into a padded wooden chair on wheels behind the old mahogany desk. Gesturing toward a paisley wingback chair on the opposite side of the desk, he indicated she should sit.

“That book you handed me a few moments ago is the
Vitae Lux.

“Should that mean something to me?”

“You’ll know all about it soon enough. The mark on your hand designates you the new Guardian. Not every owner is, but you’ve come in contact with the Mark of the Chosen. You are now the protector of the
Vitae Lux
as well as the owner of The Curiosity Shop. Congratulations. There hasn’t been a chosen one for thirty-five years.” Again, his tone registered–soft, reverent, almost kind.

Why had his disposition changed so much? And what was he babbling about? Guardian? Chosen One? Thirty-five years? She looked down at the tattoo on her hand again and rubbed at it; the mark didn’t come off. It was still there. She pinched her wrist. Maybe she was stuck in a dream again.

Ouch. Nope. Clearly awake.

“What? Guardian of what? I said I’m the owner. And there has been an owner. Remember, Blanche Brown?”

“Mrs. Brown owned the shop, but she wasn’t the Guardian. The book knows. It marks the Guardian, you are the Guardian of the book–
Vitae Lux
. And the book only works when there’s an active Guardian.”

She didn’t have time to listen to the deluded ramblings of a senile old man. She began to push herself up out of the seat but he laid his hand on her shoulder.

“What?” A moment ago he’d been sitting at the desk, now he stood beside her. She’d blinked. Nothing more. She massaged her temples. She must be more tired than she realized.

“Sit,” he said. “There are things you need to know before you walk out that shop door. Your life’s in danger. There are people hunting for this book. They want to be the Guardian.” He held her gaze, unbroken, steady. “And to be the new Guardian, the old one must die.”

She fell back into her chair, the wind knocked out of her. Who would want her dead? She stared at him. Looked at the door. Then back at him. He was crazier than she’d first thought. She’d ignore the roundabout death threat. Surely he meant it in jest? First she’d lull him into a conversation, then bolt for the door. “Was my aunt the last Guardian?”

“No. Now you’re not listening. As I said, there hasn’t been one for thirty-five years.”

“Who held the last guardianship?” She began to stand a second time.

“A woman by the name of Juliana Wade.”

She froze. “Any relation to Cullen Wade?” she said.

“Yes, his mother.”

She sat down hard in the chair again. Now he had her attention.

“How did she die?” She was afraid to hear the answer.

“The true story? Or the official one.”

“Is there a difference?” she said.

“Yes. The official ruling? She committed suicide. But in truth, someone killed her trying to gain guardianship of the book.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure? How can anyone be sure when it comes to suicide?” she said.

“I can be sure.” He lifted a pen from the desk and examined it before looking back at her keenly. “God knows.” Silence amplified in the room. “I’m an angel.”

“You? An angel?” She stood. “I’ve heard enough.”

“Ms. Alexander, you have not heard enough. You have not even heard the worst of the story yet. Your father was present when Juliana Wade died. As an angel, my knowledge is limited. None of us are omniscient like our Creator. He has remained silent. I do not know the who or why. I only know that she died because someone took her life. Part of your task as Guardian will be to cleanse the book by finding out who killed Juliana and bringing him or her to justice.”

“Oh, so I’m a cosmic cop as well as a heavenly librarian?”

“No, but I would think that if your father played any role in this matter, you’d want to make sure his name is cleared.”

Tension squeezed her. “I don’t even know my father.”

“What better time to acquaint yourself?”

She stood and paced from the desk back toward the door. She didn’t know what to believe. She wanted to walk out the door and keep on walking until she boarded a plane and headed back to America. She didn’t want any part in this madness. She wiped her palm on her thigh. Then looked again. It hadn’t faded.

“If you walk out that shop door, you will be an easy target. Someone will try to kill you. And if you don’t have all the information you need, you will die soon.”

She crossed her arms and rested her hip against his desk. “I don’t believe it. Who would want to kill me? And you expect me to believe that you’re an angel?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Oh, because angels are supposed to be beautiful and kind, eternally young and buff. In a word, perfect. Plus, they live in Heaven and maybe they’re just a little invisible here on Earth.”

“Interesting ideas, but I assure you, Ms. Alexander, I am every bit an angel. I’ve been alive forever. Since before Creation. And I will never die. I lived in heaven until assigned to The Curiosity Shop and the
Vitae Lux
.”

“Why you?”

“Why me?” He looked at her, and then glanced away quickly. “They sent me.”

There was more to the story. Joshua Dellacourt, angel or not, was hedging the truth. “God sent you to protect a book for all eternity? What do other angels do? Where are they assigned?”

“They’re assigned to people. Lines of people.”

“And why did you get a book instead of a family to protect?” He looked at the tips of his shoes and mumbled something. “What? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I touched the book.”

“What’s wrong with an angel touching the book?”

“Most angels cannot touch the book. Physically, they can’t. I am special. But, we were also instructed not to touch the book.

“You disobeyed God? I didn’t think angels could disobey.”

“No, not God, but the elders.”

“Okay, let me get this straight.” She cleared her throat. She didn’t believe a word he said. “You’re a guardian angel banished to earth to protect a book because you dared to touch it when some
divine warden said keep your mitts off?”

He shrugged. “Hmmm, I guess that’s the simplified version.”

“No wonder you’re so unhappy here.” She pulled at her bottom lip. “I’d be pissed, too, if I’d been given a bum assignment for all of eternity with no possibility of changing the outcome.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong. I do have the chance with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Over time you will. Suffice it to say, you play a big role in releasing me from my duties here, in allowing me a chance at redemption.” He smiled.

“Great, as if I haven’t heard enough.”

 

***

Dead, my ass. She looked around. “Mr. Stanhope, yes, I’m in London.” Malena paused, the cell phone pressed to her ear. “Yes, I’ve just been to the bookshop. It looks like I won’t be selling any time soon.”

“Good, I’m glad you visited the shop. And that’s great news. I’ll let the prospective buyer know.”

“I’m firing Joshua Dellacourt. Tomorrow. Draw up a pension. Set him up for life. I don’t care. But he’s gone tomorrow. He’s not sane. I’ll send Elizabeth to the shop.”

Silence. The void stretched so long she thought she’d lost the connection with the solicitor. “Mr. Stanhope? Are you still there?” She looked at the glowing blue display.

“Yes, Ms. Alexander, I’m here. How can I put this delicately? There is no way to rid yourself of Joshua Dellacourt. It’s in the will. He comes with the shop.”

“He’s willed with the shop!” She received alarmed glances as her voice rose.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“How is that possible? No one can will a human being.” She still didn’t believe the old coot’s story even though she’d sat for over an hour bantering with him.

“Well, in this case, he comes with the shop.”

“Hell! What was my aunt thinking? Did she think she could play God?”

“I think she had a better understanding of God than most, Ms. Alexander. But to answer your question, no. Her main goal has always been to look after you.”

“That old man is not fit to look after himself let alone his own shifting shadow. If my life depends on him, count me among the dead, Mr. Stanhope. He’s senile. Do you know he thinks he’s an angel?”

“Shush. Not so loud, Ms. Alexander. I’m sure there are people all around you.” He paused. “Give him a chance. You’ll see. He’ll grow on you. Joshua is
. . . eccentric.”

“Great. Just great. Not only do I have a tattoo I don’t want, now I have an old crotchety senile permanent fixture running my shop. Sheesh.” She wanted to scream. “I don’t care, I don’t trust him. I’m sending Elizabeth to watch him.”

“It will all work out. Joshua is quite unique and valuable. You’ll see.”

“I’d better start seeing a boat-load of things soon, Mr. Stanhope, or I have a feeling we’ll all be in huge trouble.” She punched the off button and hailed a taxi.

“Oh and by the way,” she muttered aloud to no one in particular, “according to the old coot, he’s an angel and I’m the Guardian of the Holy Grail. Me, Guardian of a holy book that helps people fix problems in their lives. A book that demons will kill to find. Right.”

She lowered her hand and she stared at the mark. Something had happened in that bookshop. Visible proof lay
seared on her palm. But she didn’t believe in God, a devil, or in angels. And she sure as hell didn’t believe that any mystical book could fix
all
her problems.

She opened the door of the cab that pulled up, and jumped in. Looking back at the shop, she saw someone standing in the shadows. The size and bulk indicated the figure was a man. He wore a full-length black coat and leaned against the brick-walled façade of the building. The wooden shingle bearing the shop’s name, hinged to the awning, blew back and forth in the wind a foot or so above his head. His face remained completely concealed by shadows. As the taxi pulled away, she craned her neck to see him.

The man had disappeared.

A shiver tremored down her spine. Guardian or not, something weird had happened today. A force had awakened. She’d sensed it, just as she’d felt the book brand her. Even now, she could feel a presence. She had no idea if whatever stirred was sinister or not, but she knew she had better find out before it was too late.

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