Adaire Winfield (Season 1): Episodes 1-4 (Seal of Solomon) Read online

  “While he tried to save his house, his neighbors, rather than help him, stole his goats. And so he lost everything he had. But still, he was a kind man, so he did not curse the gods, or his wife, or even his neighbors. He had nothing left, so he turned to a life of begging. But few of the villagers would give him anything, saying that the goddess of fortune gave him what he deserved for not making offerings.”

  “Is there a point, Adaire?” Shay asked. “I’ve been through your class, and I don’t remember this story.”

  In answer, I pulled the wheel pendant from beneath my shirt. “Most important item I stole. Know why?” I continued when she tilted her head. “Without enough food to eat, the goatherd grew sick. In his sickness he lost his eyesight. Alone, blind, and with nothing in the world but the ratty shirt on his back, he sat on the roadside hoping someone would take pity on him. And at last a woman came and sat beside him. She asked him, ‘Old goatherd, your wife has left you. Why do you not curse her?’ And the man answered that she should not share his misery. So the woman asked him, ‘Why do you not curse the villagers who have abandoned you even though you were always kind to them?’ And he said they were only doing what they thought right by the gods. So she asked, ‘And why do you not curse the fickle goddess Fortuna for placing you here?’

  “The man answered, ‘Surely the gods know better than I what a man deserves.’ And the woman said, ‘Indeed they do.’ She gave him a small wheel, the symbol of the changing of fortunes. The Rota Fortunae.”

  “The Wheel of Fortune?” Shay asked as she turned off the highway. “It’s just a cheesy game show.”

  Oh, for God’s sake. “Forget the damn show. Some say the woman was Fortuna herself. Turn the wheel, say the words, and it brings luck. But there’s always a balance. If I bring myself good luck, someone nearby will have bad luck. Maybe even me.”

  She grew stiff, watching the road and pointedly not looking at me. “You expect me to believe this is a relic? That this little wheel was held by gods of old? And some conspiracy organization is after you, just because you have it?”

  “Yup. And believe me, no one wants them getting any more relics.”

  “More relics?”

  Unfortunately. “You heard about all that flooding in Thailand last year? Bad people do bad things with the power of the gods.”

  “And how about you, Ady?”

  Oh, great. A lecture. “Pull in here.” I pointed to a gas station. “You still don’t believe me.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, then bought a scratch-off lottery ticket for her.

  “Try.” I handed her the ticket and the wheel. “Just try it.”

  When she took it, a light grew in her eyes. “Fortes Fortuna adiuvat,” she whispered, spinning it.

  I grabbed the wheel while she scratched the ticket.

  She stared at it, mouth agape once again. “A hundred dollars …” Her voice shook. Probably not over the amount. “Think what this means, Ady!”

  I smiled. Finally. “It means we can be rich. Run away to Bermuda and live our lives in luxury.” Under the radar, with any luck.

  “No. No, think how much good we can do for the world with this.”

  I glanced up at a TV mounted in the corner. The police had helpfully plastered my face on it, proclaiming me a dangerous fugitive. Helpful. Especially since I wasn’t the one who was truly dangerous. Shay must have seen the TV, too, because she tensed as we left.

  I ushered her into the car. “You can’t help the world, because for everyone you help, someone else pays the price. Notice how my face came on TV the moment you won the money? We can only help ourselves.”

  Shay’s face went slack, then her eyes turned dark. She started the car and drove without a word, pulling into the first motel in sight.

  At the counter she asked for two rooms. Two, dammit.

  As we walked toward the stairs, I grabbed her shoulder, but she didn’t turn. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Deep down, I knew she still loved me. She could have walked away at any point. She didn’t even have to take my call. But she had taken it, and I needed her.

  Would the wheel let me get lucky? Probably not what Fortuna had in mind, but what the hell. “Fortes Fortuna adiuvat,” I whispered, then brushed the back of her neck with my fingertips.

  Shay trembled, then twisted to look into my eyes. There it was, her resolve falling away. “You have to stop using it, Ady … The consequences, the people who’ll get hurt … We have to find a way to make good come from it.”

  I shook my head, but she spoke before I could even open my mouth.

  “That big crash, on the highway. That was you, wasn’t it? All those people dead, because of that wheel?”

  I shrugged and spread my hands. My stomach kept bubbling. I was doing the right thing by keeping it from the spook. After all, it was better for me to hold the power than some secret society. Right? I had to believe so. “Good things come with a price.” Might have sounded better if I could make my voice sound more certain. “Maybe the price is worth it.”

  God, it had to be worth it. Otherwise …

  She didn’t resist when I pulled her in for a kiss. At last the wheel would turn and bring back all I’d lost. And then, it would definitely be worth it.

  I released her and turned at the sound of a train. Here? I didn’t even know where the closest train tracks were.

  The ground shook, wind whipping my clothes. Windows rattled. From the calm night sky, clouds swirled. Seconds later a freak tornado lanced down from the sky, striking the building across the street. It exploded as though crushed by the finger of God.

  I couldn’t even hear myself scream as the winds hurled a car toward us. It impacted the motel, narrowly missing Shay.

  The funnel bounced off the ground and back into the air. It was coming down on us. We were dead. I’d stretched the balance too far. I’d wanted Shay so much, I’d killed her.

  I grabbed her arm and threw us both beneath the staircase, trying to shield her with my body.

  The funnel touched down again across the street, closer. The wind stripped plaster from the walls, tried to pull me from my weak shelter. I clenched my arms around the stairs until the edges cut into my flesh.

  Then, the tornado landed atop the motel. Everything exploded. Debris flew about us.

  My ears rang as they had in the car crash, only worse. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t see. Everything smelled of sawdust and blood.

  The ringing faded a little, and my vision returned. I was pinned beneath the staircase. Shards of wood dug into my arms, but I couldn’t even feel them.

  Shay crawled over, tears in her eyes. “Ady?”

  “I’m okay, I think … Yeah, just stuck.”

  She had it in her hands, then. Had she palmed the wheel before the tornado? Is that why we were alive? Had she used it?

  “Give me the wheel, Shay. I’ll get us out of this.”

  For a moment, she just stared at it in her hand.

  “Now, Shay! He’ll be looking for me. Especially after this, he’ll be coming.” The spook would find me again. He was always just a step behind. “We have to disappear before they can find me here.”

  She moved like she might place the cord around her neck, then her eyes met mine. Stopped. For what seemed forever, she said nothing. After that eternity, her voice came out as a whisper. “You’re still going to use it, Ady?”

  Well, yeah. “Kind of need a little luck now, you know.”

  “Do you know how many people probably just died? It has to stop.” She rose. “I never thought I could do this.” She pulled out her phone and dialed three digits.

  “Shay? We can be together now. We can fix everything. We can have anything!” I could only listen while she told the police where to find me. “Shay, he’s going to find me! The police can’t protect me.”

  “There’s no spook, Adaire. You’re paranoid. You’ve stopped taking your meds, haven’t you?”

  So what? The spook was real. He had to be. Someo
ne had followed me. Someone had shadowed my every move. Someone else was seeking the relics.

  “Shay. Help me. Please.”

  She looked down at me, tears in her eyes. “I am helping you. I’m helping everyone.”

  Well, shit. “Shay … You can’t do this.”

  She turned away, still sobbing. “I can. Finally.” The wheel fell from her grasp. My breath caught as her heel crushed it.

  Crushed salvation.

  Shay didn’t look back at me when she spoke. “Fortune favors the bold.”

  She left me there, trapped, bleeding, dying for all I knew.

  When I woke up, I was in this room, and you were here. That’s it. Story’s finished.

  * * *

  Agent Crispin pushed away from the desk and closed Adaire’s file. “Is it finished, Mr. Winfield? Let’s leave that choice up to you.”

  Adaire shrugged, rubbing the bandages on his legs. His lacerations were extensive. Must have hurt, but he said nothing. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw the broken pieces of the Rota Fortunae. Ridiculous as your escapades sound, I can’t disprove any of it.” He paused, letting Adaire stew a bit. “If you found one relic, perhaps you could find another.”

  Adaire stared at him for several moments. “Are you offering me a job?”

  Agent Crispin shrugged. “You already believe in the power of the relics, and you seem to have a knack for finding them. From what I’ve seen, you’re a natural candidate for the Seal.”

  “The what?”

  “The Seal of Solomon. Finding relics is what we do.”

  Adaire chuckled. “Why the hell would I work for you?”

  “Because we’re the good guys, here. And because, as your friend said, Fortune favors the bold, Mr. Winfield. You are bold, and we can give you all the fortune you desire.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  He shrugged. “Bad luck must fall somewhere, I believe.”

  Agent Crispin left Adaire to think it over. Even if the man had really had a choice—and he didn’t—Adaire wouldn’t walk away. His story proved the ex-professor was perfect for the Seal.

  It was why Crispin had let him get the Rota Fortunae in the first place.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I still hadn’t worked the kink out of my neck from the seventeen hour flight to Delhi when the taxi arrived in Rajpura. The little village halfway to Agra had earned a reputation as the latest tourist draw. Given the choice, I might have continued on to Agra—who doesn’t want to see the Taj Mahal?—but Agent Crispin was pretty clear on not funding sight-seeing. Prick.

  “Thanks,” I said to the driver, and offered him a couple hundred rupees as a tip. Let Crispin pay for that.

  The moment I stepped out of the air-conditioned cab the heat smacked me in the face. There were a handful of other taxis here, and a dozen rickshaws. You’d have to be absolutely desperate to drive a rickshaw in this weather.

  Rajpura wasn’t unusual as an Indian village. Dusty, unpaved streets, simple life, lots of animals. Except for here, in front of the Goddess Cauldron, a three-story hotel painted warm pink. This village, which wasn’t even on the map a few years ago, could have passed for a tourist resort in Goa. Of course, the banks of the Yamuna weren’t the same pristine beaches they had down there, so… why had this place sprung up? Crispin had sent me here to find that out.

  Was there a relic involved? I doubted it. But hell, it was an all-expense paid trip to India, so who was I to complain?

  “Namaste,” the doorman said, pressing his hands together at my arrival.

  I returned the gesture and allowed him to take my bags, then approached the front desk.

  “Name?” a middle-aged Indian asked me.

  “Adaire Winfield.” I slid him my passport, and he copied some information before sending a boy to take me up to my room. I ran my fingers along the wall as I walked to the elevator. Everything was new here. This construction couldn’t be two years old, just as Crispin had said.

  It was only a few hours’ drive between Delhi and Agra, so it wasn’t like people needed a rest stop. And yet, business was booming. I eyed an assortment of Indian and Western guests, as well as a small congregation that looked Japanese in the lobby. Everyone seemed quite happy to be here, in the middle of nowhere.

  A quick glance around my room told me I was gonna like this place. LCD TV on the wall, a little fridge in the corner—probably no mini bar, but, eh—and a queen-sized bed. Pretty much nothing like you’d expect a village hotel to be.

  That was apparently enough to make the Seal of Solomon think something supernatural was happening. Which meant a relic—which in turn meant me, looking for it.

  I tipped the bellhop, fifty rupees, then strolled back downstairs. The room looked damn comfy, but I should probably at least try to investigate the place before starting the vacation. Fine aromas wafted in from the downstairs restaurant. I’d heard there was another one on the roof, but it was way too damn hot for that during the day. It seriously had to be 110 out there, at least.

  In an alcove just outside the restaurant sat a statue of a goddess, slender in the waist, with large breasts. Her feet were hidden in water, and she wore a crown.

  “That’s Yamuna, the goddess of this river,” a woman said behind me.

  I turned to see an Indian girl, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Her long hair was pulled back in a knot at her neck, and she wore a white kurti. Very official, and probably uptight. But she had a slight smile. Yeah, I knew it was most likely calculated to put customers at ease… but hey, it worked.

  “Are you a devotee?” I asked.

  She swayed her shoulders a bit. “We believe in all the gods. All gods are God. Would you like a table?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Please follow, then.” She led me into the restaurant and gave me a seat near a window that looked out over the river, then set a menu on the table. “My name is Pihu. I will be happy to assist you.”

  “You speak English very well.” Remarkably well, for a village girl.

  “Benefits of a Delhi education.” She left, returning with a pitcher of water a moment later, then poured me a glass. “What would you like, this afternoon?”

  I glanced over the menu, unfamiliar with anything on it. “What do you like, Pihu?”

  “Veg jalfrezi—my favorite.” I swear she smirked.

  “Veg …? Uh, no chicken?”

  She crinkled her nose a bit, then shook her head.

  A vegetarian, then. How dull. But that smile was back, and after such a long flight I was pretty easy. “Sure, Pihu. Let me try the veg jalfrezi.”

  With a smile she took the menu and sauntered off into the kitchen. Yeah, can’t say I was excited about the food, whatever the hell jalfrezi was, but at least the girls were cute. I took a moment to look around the restaurant. It was late for lunch, but the place was still crowded. A wall with an open arch divided the dining room in two. On my side sat foreigners and a few Indians in suits, and on the other side a bunch of Indians in village clothes. So this place catered to the locals, too. Different price points for different customers? Back home, no one would stand for such a double standard, but it was probably the only way the locals could afford the food in such a place.

  Pihu returned maybe fifteen minutes later, with a steaming plate of what I assumed to be jalfrezi, and a stack of Indian flatbread—roti, I think it was called.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  Yeah. Why not? “Well, I’d very much like for you to join me for lunch.”

  She blew out a breath and lowered her eyes. “I can’t do that, sir.”

  “You can call me Ady.” I stood, sliding out another chair. “And I’ll bet you can. It’s easy, just bend your knees and before you know it you’ll be seated. I mean, don’t you have to teach foreigners how to properly eat with the bread?”

  I’d been to a couple of Indian buffets in D.C., so I’d heard about the method for eating. But I still wanted to keep her around to explain.


  Pihu, clearly struggling with a smile, tore off a chunk of the bread. “Take a piece of the chapati and use it to pick up a bite of the dish.” She demonstrated, then handed it to me. “You should practice on your own a bit. I’ll be back to check your work later.”

  “I used to be a college professor, you know. So I expect high marks.”

  She bobbed her shoulders again, then walked off.

  I tossed the bite she had given me in my mouth. Suddenly, the place’s appeal became clear. Okay, so I was an all-American boy. I liked my meat and potatoes, and never thought much about vegetarian food. So when I say the layers of vegetables and spices shocked me, I mean I was floored. And, yeah, my eyes watered a little from the spiciness. Didn’t stop me from taking another bite. And another. God in Heaven, this was good.

  “Another plate, Ady-ji?” Pihu asked when I’d polished off the entire dish.

  I paused for a glass of water, as much to gather my considerable wits as to wash down the burn. How a meal so engrossed me that I didn’t notice a cute girl approaching me, I have no idea. I looked up at her and smiled. “Just Ady, Pihu. And I think I’d better wait until dinner before any more, but that really was amazing. How long have you worked here?”

  “Three months. My family is still in Delhi, but the pay here is good.”

  Must have been. “Can you bill this to my room?”

  “Of course.”

  She wandered off to the kitchen, and I rose to find the restroom. I strolled through the restaurant, pausing by the kitchen door Pihu had entered. Beside it, a hall led past a door marked ‘Office.’ Yeah, probably nothing supernatural at all was going on in this place, but I’d have to meet the guy sooner or later just to keep Crispin off my back. I continued on to another door, this one marked ‘Manager.’ What the hell was the difference between Manager and Office?

  No sooner had I reached for the door than Pihu suddenly grabbed me. “You can’t go in there!”