this Museum could not possibly be on it. Do not lie to me again.”
Logan swallowed hard. Not that he believed the crazy part about Seti being in a box for five millennia, but because there was something in Seti’s eyes that belied the sternness in his voice. For all of Seti’s posturing, for all his size and obvious strength, the man was afraid and that struck a chord in Logan’s heart. He felt sorry for the poor nut.
“Look, if you hurry you can probably make it out of the Museum before the cops get here-”
“The police are not coming, Logan. I did not set off any alarms, because I did not break in. I was already in here,” Seti said. His shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. “In the sarcophagus. My tomb.”
“Your tomb? So, you’re telling me that…what?” That you’re the mummy?” Logan smirked. “Please. Do I look like I fell off the turnip truck yesterday?”
“You do not look like you’ve been injured recently, no,” Seti replied, looking Logan over. Logan could feel those ebony eyes ghosting over his body no less than if Seti’s fingers had touched him. He shivered as Seti’s sloe eyes awoke parts of Logan that were better left sleeping.
Something wicked sparked in Seti’s eyes as they met Logan’s, a hot ember that flared for an instant, one that matched the fire that had been kindled in Logan’s core. Then it was gone, replaced by the same mask of cool conceit Seti had worn since he’d first begun to speak.
“Go look,” he ordered in a smug voice. “See for yourself, so that you will not again doubt my words.”
“This is ridiculous,” Logan murmured. Yet he felt a sudden, strong, irresistible urge to do just as Seti had ordered. Before he knew it his feet were moving toward the Vault. His muscles bunched as his body fought itself, his brain issuing stern commands to stop, but his legs paying absolutely no attention.
Logan reached the Vault and, taking a deep breath to collect his frazzled nerves, peered inside.
Chapter Four
The Vault was better lit than it had been the first time Logan had opened it, even without flipping on the light switch, thanks to the gaping hole Seti had made in the door. Bright light from the main room streamed in, glinting off the golden sarcophagus.
The lid had been tossed to the side, landing end up against one of the walls. A spider web of long, jagged cracks laced through the golden effigy, heaviest at the head where they obscured the sculpted face.
One look told Logan that the sarcophagus was empty. Nevertheless, Logan ducked into the room, first peering carefully into the empty tomb then into all the shadowed corners. He crawled behind the sarcophagus, checking every inch of the floor, looking for the mummy. He banged on the walls, listening for any hollow echo that might indicate a hidden doorway or passage.
But there was no trace of the mummy anywhere, and no way that Logan could find for it to have been spirited out. For that matter, there was no way he could find for Seti to have gotten into the locked room except through the door he had shattered. It was as if the mummy had vanished into thin air. That unbelievable but undeniable observation posed a problem for Logan’s pragmatic mind.
Logan was a scientist, a researcher. Methodical, unlikely to jump to conclusions, he had been trained to carefully study the evidence long and hard before posing an hypothesis. In this case, however, the facts spoke loud and clear – the mummy was gone.
Poof.
The facts were irrefutable, and the conclusion Logan began to draw - however outlandish - seemed the only valid explanation for the series of events.
Fact: The mummy had been locked behind a closed door, safely sealed within its golden tomb. Logan had seen it with his own eyes, had locked the door himself.
Fact: In the next moment it had vanished like an assistant in a magic act. Unlike said assistant, however, the mummy hadn’t fallen through a trap door, or
Logan swallowed hard. Not that he believed the crazy part about Seti being in a box for five millennia, but because there was something in Seti’s eyes that belied the sternness in his voice. For all of Seti’s posturing, for all his size and obvious strength, the man was afraid and that struck a chord in Logan’s heart. He felt sorry for the poor nut.
“Look, if you hurry you can probably make it out of the Museum before the cops get here-”
“The police are not coming, Logan. I did not set off any alarms, because I did not break in. I was already in here,” Seti said. His shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. “In the sarcophagus. My tomb.”
“Your tomb? So, you’re telling me that…what?” That you’re the mummy?” Logan smirked. “Please. Do I look like I fell off the turnip truck yesterday?”
“You do not look like you’ve been injured recently, no,” Seti replied, looking Logan over. Logan could feel those ebony eyes ghosting over his body no less than if Seti’s fingers had touched him. He shivered as Seti’s sloe eyes awoke parts of Logan that were better left sleeping.
Something wicked sparked in Seti’s eyes as they met Logan’s, a hot ember that flared for an instant, one that matched the fire that had been kindled in Logan’s core. Then it was gone, replaced by the same mask of cool conceit Seti had worn since he’d first begun to speak.
“Go look,” he ordered in a smug voice. “See for yourself, so that you will not again doubt my words.”
“This is ridiculous,” Logan murmured. Yet he felt a sudden, strong, irresistible urge to do just as Seti had ordered. Before he knew it his feet were moving toward the Vault. His muscles bunched as his body fought itself, his brain issuing stern commands to stop, but his legs paying absolutely no attention.
Logan reached the Vault and, taking a deep breath to collect his frazzled nerves, peered inside.
Chapter Four
The Vault was better lit than it had been the first time Logan had opened it, even without flipping on the light switch, thanks to the gaping hole Seti had made in the door. Bright light from the main room streamed in, glinting off the golden sarcophagus.
The lid had been tossed to the side, landing end up against one of the walls. A spider web of long, jagged cracks laced through the golden effigy, heaviest at the head where they obscured the sculpted face.
One look told Logan that the sarcophagus was empty. Nevertheless, Logan ducked into the room, first peering carefully into the empty tomb then into all the shadowed corners. He crawled behind the sarcophagus, checking every inch of the floor, looking for the mummy. He banged on the walls, listening for any hollow echo that might indicate a hidden doorway or passage.
But there was no trace of the mummy anywhere, and no way that Logan could find for it to have been spirited out. For that matter, there was no way he could find for Seti to have gotten into the locked room except through the door he had shattered. It was as if the mummy had vanished into thin air. That unbelievable but undeniable observation posed a problem for Logan’s pragmatic mind.
Logan was a scientist, a researcher. Methodical, unlikely to jump to conclusions, he had been trained to carefully study the evidence long and hard before posing an hypothesis. In this case, however, the facts spoke loud and clear – the mummy was gone.
Poof.
The facts were irrefutable, and the conclusion Logan began to draw - however outlandish - seemed the only valid explanation for the series of events.
Fact: The mummy had been locked behind a closed door, safely sealed within its golden tomb. Logan had seen it with his own eyes, had locked the door himself.
Fact: In the next moment it had vanished like an assistant in a magic act. Unlike said assistant, however, the mummy hadn’t fallen through a trap door, or
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