Scapulimancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 7) Read online

  “The men aren’t here.”

  He removed his hat. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “The bodies are in the morgue. They can’t be released until the investigation is closed, but Mr. Manfred’s friends are eager to go home. The doctor gave them tranquilizers. They’re sleeping, now.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I feel dreadful. Simply dreadful. Is it true about Miss Graham?”

  “Where is everyone?” he asked, glancing around.

  “Clive must be here somewhere. Thinus went to town this morning, but he’s not back, yet.”

  “I need to speak to the hunters.”

  “Clive thinks the old Xhosa chief used a black magic curse.”

  Dumile had never hurt anyone in his life. “He can’t seriously think that.”

  “What else is he supposed to think? Miss Graham went to see the chief only a few days ago. Since then, Thinus has suffered all kinds of strange attacks, and a cobra spat at Nelis.”

  “That’s crazy.” He was still angry with Sara for lying and not taking him into her confidence, but deep inside he knew she didn’t command the snake that killed the men. There had to be another explanation.

  “What’s crazy is what’s happening around here since that woman arrived. Please tell me the rumors aren’t true, that the two of you aren’t together.”

  “Can I see the hunters?” Come hell or high water, he’d discover the truth. His gut told him the truth would also lead him to Sara. “I can see myself to the guesthouse.”

  “They’re strung out. Best to let them sleep.”

  “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “You don’t understand.” She fixed him with a level look. “You’re no longer welcome on our property. Neither is Miss Graham, or Nkosi, for that matter.”

  If it was going to take trespassing to get some answers, so be it. “Good day, Mrs. Theron.”

  He turned back to his truck without another word. If he took the road up the other side of the mountain he could reach the guesthouse from the back. As he steered his truck down the hill, his phone rang. Odier’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Help’s arrived,” Odier said. “We’ve just landed.”

  “Sara is still missing.”

  “I’m with someone who can help. He’s got satellite backup. Where are you?”

  “Between Clive Theron’s farm and the Xhosa settlement.”

  “How far is the settlement from where Manfred was killed?”

  “About twenty miles. Why?”

  “Meet us there. We’re going to find out if my girl escaped or if she was taken.” Odier cut the call.

  His girl? The words grated on him, but he had little time to contemplate their meaning. Shortly after he returned to the huts, a small army of men and women—the army Dumile had said he’d need—pulled up at the settlement. The man who got out from behind the wheel introduced himself to Wayne and Zandi as Odier. He was slender and tall, dressed in a linen suit, and much younger than what Wayne had expected. It was the man he introduced next who held Wayne’s attention. Cain Jones seemed to be a leader. He carried an air of authority with practiced ease. Dressed in white from head to toe, he looked out of place in the middle of the dusty circle of huts.

  Cain extended a hand. “Mr. West, I work with a team of forbidden arts specialists. Allow me to introduce you.”

  A scary looking Frenchman, Joss, was their team leader. Two women, Maya and Clelia, shook his hand. Clelia looked too fragile to be on any taskforce. Maya was a local. He could tell from her accent. The other guys were Russian, Scottish, and British. He recognized the British one. A rock star or something. It was an interesting mix, but for the moment, he was too preoccupied with Sara to be curious.

  “I’d like to meet this sangoma who’s said to be involved in the murders,” Cain said.

  “That’ll be Dumile,” Wayne said. “He’s with a friend, right now. I thought it safer to leave him protected.”

  Cain nodded, seemingly in deep thought. “Is he involved with this so-called black magic death curse?”

  “Dumile is a healer, not a killer.”

  “My father wouldn’t harm a fly,” Zandi added.

  Before Wayne could blink, Joss pulled a knife, grabbed hold of Wayne’s finger, and pierced the skin. A drop of blood pooled on the tip, which Joss caught with his thumb and stuck in his mouth.

  “What the hell…?”

  Joss gave Cain a nod. “He’s telling the truth.”

  “What did you cut me for?” Wayne asked, annoyance simmering under his skin.

  “Joss can tell anything by tasting a person’s blood,” Cain said matter-of-factly.

  Wayne sucked the wound, glaring at Joss. The Frenchman could’ve warned him of his intention.

  Cain turned to the British guy. “Can you work from here?”

  Ivan looked around. “This’ll do.” He walked to the edge of the forest, away from everyone.

  “What’s he doing?” Wayne asked.

  “He’s going to talk to the spirits,” Maya replied.

  He didn’t have time for this bullshit. “I thought your friend had satellite,” he said to Odier.

  “I do,” Cain answered, “but it got intercepted. Our enemy owns most of the communication companies in Africa. He managed to block our reception, but don’t worry. I have a team that is more valuable than the best satellite in the world.”

  “Who is this enemy, and why is he blocking your satellite?”

  “He’s after Sahara Graham. Her art is valuable,” Cain said. “Sold to the right bidder, she’s worth a fortune. Our rival is collecting these arts for his own, sinister reasons. I’m guessing we have him to thank for Sara’s disappearance.”

  “You always knew?” he asked Odier.

  “I knew Sara’s father before he died. That’s how Sara and I met. I promised to take care of her, and it’s her dad who gave me Cain’s number and told me to call if anything ever happened.”

  “You should’ve called sooner.” Cain gave Odier a reprimanding look. “I could’ve protected her.”

  “Her old man said only if there was trouble. He wanted her to have as normal a life as possible.”

  “There’s no normal for people like her,” Cain said.

  Leaves rustled, pulling Wayne’s attention to the spot where Ivan stood. The wind picked up and clouds moved in front of the sun. The clearing turned cold. His scalp pricked. He didn’t like this shit. Hell, he didn’t even believe in it.

  Finally, Ivan returned with a somber look. “It’s a dark place.” His gaze searched the small party and fixed on Wayne.

  “Why do you say that?” Zandi asked.

  “Lots of spirits wanted to be heard, and they weren’t patient.”

  “Let’s hear it.” Cain took Ivan’s arm to pull him aside.

  “This concerns West,” Ivan said. “He should hear.”

  Cain dropped his hand. “Very well.”

  Wayne didn’t like the sound of it. Not one bit.

  After taking a deep breath, Ivan said, “Manfred doesn’t know anything except that his killer was a snake. His spirit passed in confusion, and he’s still trapped in limbo. The other victim hasn’t reached the spiritual realm yet. It’s too soon.”

  From the way Ivan looked at Wayne, he knew the man had more to say.

  “Carry on,” Cain urged.

  “There was a woman. Mariana.”

  Wayne’s body became heavy. His hearing dispersed, as if he was listening to Ivan underwater. Zandi turned a shade paler.

  “The man who killed her,” Ivan stared at Wayne, “is called Thinus Theron.”

  Wayne’s vision zoomed in and out of focus. Heat pulsed in his temples, hurting his brain. Zandi hung her head, her face scrunched up in an expression of pain. The only thing that helped to ground him was looking at her face. Her agony reflected his, telling him what had to be done. He’d take Thinus apart with his bare hands. His fingers clenched around the key of his truck, the metal cutting into his palm. He
hadn’t given two steps in the direction of the vehicle when two of the Xhosa trackers came jogging into the clearing, dragging Nelis between them. Nelis’s left eye was swollen and his upper lip cut. Blood caked under his nose.

  Zandi rushed to them. “What have you done?”

  The tallest of the men pushed Nelis to the center. “Miss Bella’s housekeeper saw him crawling by the house along the dunes. We found him hiding at the oyster farm. He almost got away with a boat.”

  Wayne grabbed his arm. “What have you done?”

  Nelis arched back, putting as much distance as he could between them. “It was Clive. He told me to do it.”

  “Where’s Sara?” Wayne asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Maya looked Nelis up and down. “Do you know what Xhosas do with criminals?”

  Nelis only stared at her, his gaze fearful.

  “They give them a public beating,” she continued.

  “I’ve done nothing to the Xhosas,” he said in a trembling voice.

  Zandi lifted hateful eyes to him. “You said you were with Thinus the night Mariana was killed.”

  Nelis looked between the people in the group, licking his lips nervously. “I was.”

  “Then you’re guilty, too.”

  His eyes grew round. “You can’t keep me. It’s against the law. I have rights.”

  The petite woman, Clelia, pursed her lips. “It’ll be quicker if you just cut him, Joss.”

  Joss smiled. Something sparked in his eyes as he looked at her. “Anything you say, little witch.”

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Nelis backed away, but Ivan grabbed his wrist and held it in place while Joss pricked his finger and tasted the blood. When he lifted his eyes to Cain, they had a stormy light, making the silver of his irises look like melted steel.

  “Guilty. Not many words coming from his mouth are true.”

  Son of a bitch. Nelis had known all along. He’d let Wayne waste six years of his life in prison. Jail was nothing compared to the hell he’d been through, losing someone he cared for. Blaming himself. Hating himself.

  It was over.

  No more lies.

  Pulling back, he planted a fist under Nelis’s jaw. The impact sent his body flying. When his back hit the ground, Wayne put his boot on the coward’s chest.

  “Start talking.”

  “I know nothing!” Nelis wiggled like a worm and groaned when Wayne stepped down.

  “Let’s deal with him by Xhosa law,” Zandi said.

  Everyone who knew something about the Xhosas knew what that meant.

  “No!” Nelis started crying. “You can’t do that.”

  Zandi spat at his feet. “We’ll bury your body in the ground with only your head sticking out and let the ants make a meal of your face. They always start with the eyes. It takes days to die.”

  Nelis trembled and shook his head.

  “Get him on his feet and give him a spade,” Wayne said. “Make him dig in the softer sand near the anthill over there.”

  “No!”

  The Xhosa men who had brought Nelis dragged him up.

  “Wait!” Nelis dug his heels into the soil. “I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Wayne’s hands shook so bad he had to curl his fingers into fists. “You better start.”

  “That night at the lake…” Nelis sniffed. “You were pissed off and getting hammered. Mariana came down. Said she wanted to talk to you. Thinus and I, we told her a woman had no business in a man’s bar, but she wouldn’t listen. Started insulting us. She slapped Thinus in the face, and he lost it. He hit her back, but he hit hard. Knocked her out.”

  Anger coiled around Wayne’s insides, but he had to wait it out. He needed to hear this.

  Nelis wiped the snot and blood from his nose. “It was dark outside. Nobody had seen us, so we reckoned we’d teach the bitch a lesson. We wanted to scare her a bit. It was Thinus’s idea to tie her to the back of your truck.” He started to cry harder. “We didn’t mean to kill her. I swear to God. We just wanted her to feel frightened when she came to. We wanted to teach her her place.” He sniffed again. “Thinus put something in your drink to make you pass out. He was worried you’d kill him if she told you he’d hit her, but the stuff had some weird effect on you because you went ape shit. You were so far gone, we thought you’d crash your truck if you drove, but you only wanted to get home. Thinus tried to stop you, but you had the strength of a madman. We told you not to, but you got into your truck and started the engine. The music in your truck was blaring, and your windows were closed. I screamed at you to stop.” His breath caught. “I yelled that Mariana was tied to your truck, but you couldn’t hear us.” He gulped in several ragged drags of air. “You took off.” He looked down, avoiding Wayne’s eyes. “You just took off.”

  Murder. That’s what Wayne felt like. He wanted to avenge what had happened to Mariana with a force larger than his logic and reason, but he forced himself to listen.

  “The music in the bar was loud. We reckoned nobody had heard us. We went home to talk to Clive. Thinus was beside himself. He didn’t want to go to jail. Clive told us to keep quiet and see what happens. Then they arrested you.”

  Nothing could undo the monstrosity Thinus and Nelis had committed. Nothing would bring her back. Thinus and Nelis had to be dealt with. Later. Sara was still out there, in danger.

  “What about Sara?”

  “You’ve got to promise you won’t kill me.”

  “Death is too easy for you,” Wayne gritted out.

  Nelis shot a wary glance at the anthill. “Thinus is selling Sara to a gift hunter.”

  That was it. That was as much as he could take. Wayne lunged forward, grabbing Nelis by the lapels. “You lousy, sick son of a bitch. Where is she?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” Wayne said through clenched teeth. “Where’s Thinus?”

  “I swear to God, I don’t know. Clive told me to burn down Bella’s house and hide until he sent word that it’s safe to come out.”

  Wayne gave a hard shake. “Tell me what you know about Thinus’s plan.”

  “When Mulder reported Manfred’s murder, someone from government offered him money to detain Sara. Apparently, she’s worth a lot. There are all kinds of freaky people after her. Mulder sold the info to a guy from overseas. I don’t know his name. Thinus paid Mulder for the info of who he was going to sell her to. Thinus was going to take Sara and sell her instead.”

  “Fuck.” Wayne set him free with a push. “That’s why Thinus went to town. Now Clive is missing. They’re up to something. We have to find Thinus. We have to search the farm.”

  Lann, the Russian, checked a map on an electronic device strapped to his arm. “The farm is huge, and we don’t have access to our satellite.”

  “We’ll have to split up,” Maya said. “Can you look after yourself, West?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Do you have a weapon?” Cain asked.

  “No.”

  “Best that you wait here, then. My team will handle it.”

  “She’s my woman.” The sound of it was right. “And I’m the best tracker you’ll find.”

  Cain handed him a wrist pad and an earpiece. “Press this button to connect with the team.” He turned to the others. “We have to get her alive. She’s the last of her kind.”

  “Here, take this.” Joss handed him the knife before calling out the positions that would send each of them in a different direction once they got to the farm.

  Wayne turned to one of the Xhosa men. “Cebo, you come with me.” He needed another pair of eyes while he drove.

  It took Wayne a record time to make his way back up the mountain. Outside the farmhouse, he stopped to study the ground. Thinus’s Land Rover tracks were fresh.

  “Cebo, get on the hood and show me the way.”

  Cebo knew what to do. The young man hopped onto the hood and sca
nned the ground for tracks, giving directions with hand signals while Wayne drove. Modern farmers like Clive used electronic transplants to track their game. Wayne had always relied on the old-fashioned method, and now he was glad for it.

  The Land Rover track led them to the barn. The shoeprints in the mud made his blood run cold. Two large sets and the drag marks of a smaller pair.

  “Two men,” Cebo said, studying the prints, “and a woman.”

  Judging from the wetness of the soil, they’d passed here less than fifteen minutes ago.

  “Let’s go.” Wayne rushed back to the vehicle, Cebo in tow.

  They followed the trail deep into the grasslands until he spotted Thinus’s Land Rover parked on the high side of the hill. His heart went into overdrive, adrenaline preparing his body to fight.

  “Get in, Cebo. From here on it’s going to get bumpy.”

  When Cebo was buckled up, he steered off the road, pushing his truck through the fields. He rounded the bend, hoping to take them by surprise, but there was no sign of Thinus, Clive, or Sara.

  “Stay in the truck,” he said to Cebo, “and keep your head low.” The man was a good tracker, but he was no fighter.

  Jumping from the vehicle, he ran to the top of the hill, and then he stopped dead, the breath knocked from his lungs at the sight that waited.

  Sara! She was tied up. Half-naked. Bleeding. A short way ahead, one of the lionesses got ready to charge. Instinct took over. He half-ran, half-fell toward the hill, putting himself between Sara and the danger. Unarmed, there was nothing else he could do. He didn’t even have time to activate the wrist pad.

  With his back to Sara, he faced the beast as she pounced, launching her body through the air and going into a sprint. Even if he shook in his boots, he stood his ground. The worst thing he could do, was run. His best chance was to exert power and domination. The feline’s enormous paws kicked up soil as she closed the distance. Her muscles knotted together and flexed as she advanced. Her yellow eyes were fixed on the obstacle between her and food—him. Death stared him in the eyes. There were no regrets. Only Sara.

  “Sara! Close your eyes.”

  He braced himself for the impact. An inch away from him, the lioness came to a sudden halt, sand flying up in his face. She turned, her tail whipping the ground, and mocked-charged again. She was testing him.