The Anubis Plague полностью

Her outburst got Grant’s attention. The younger man poked his shaggy, dirty blonde head through the door into the next room and gave Zahra a questioning look. He removed one of his earbuds from its place, unsure if she had been trying to get his attention or not. Zahra waved at him and focused on the call. Grant replaced the earbud, shrugged, and disappeared back into the darkened room. It was, in essence, a large storage closet that Zahra had given Grant to use as his personal workplace. It wasn’t much, but at least he had that. Back when Zahra started, she was forced to share office space with other people and had constantly been searching for her things.

“Hey, Z.” Dina hiccupped. “Whatcha doin’?”

Zahra put the call on speaker and set it down, rubbing her face hard. She didn’t have time for this.

“I’m working, Dina.”

Dina snorted. “No, shit, what else is new?”

Zahra sighed. Dina loved to point out that she had no life outside of work. “Look, Dina, I—”

“Come out with us, Z! Have three to five drinks and blow off some steam.”

The combination of the background music and Dina’s shouts were too much for her. Zahra dipped her head and closed her eyes.

“Sorry, Dina, but I think I’ll pass. It’s already after twelve, and—”

“And nothing!” Dina interrupted. “It’s Friday, love!” She giggled. “Josie — stop! Let go of that… Come have a drink with us, Z!”

Us meant Dina and the person who had grabbed her something, Dina’s girlfriend, Josie. They belonged to a scene that Zahra had never enjoyed, and one she had rarely ever partaken in. Zahra was solely focused on her career and her physical training. Her laser focus was a trait she had acquired from her father. Her mother had been on the other side of the spectrum, to a degree. Her mother would have happily laid down whatever she had been doing to be with her family. Her dad had been a wonderful provider, but he sometimes lacked when it came to the “love department.” He was a workaholic to the core — still was to this day.

“Goodnight, Dina!” Zahra yelled, picking up her phone. “See you Monday!”

She ended the call before Dina could say anything else. For a moment, she contemplated hurling the device across the room. Instead, Zahra turned it over and set it facedown so she couldn’t see the screen. Her face fell into her hands.

“Trouble with Dina?”

Zahra paused and spread her fingers open. Grant was, once again, poking his head into her office.

Zahra’s hands fell to her lap. “No. She’s fine. You know Dina…”

Grant frowned. “Yes, I do.”

Shortly after joining the staff, Grant had gone out with Dina and her crew to celebrate his onboarding. For the entire two days following their barhopping expedition in downtown London, Grant looked like he’d been through hell.

Since then, he followed Zahra’s lead and stuck to his work.

Smart man, she thought, waking her wireless mouse with a jiggle.

As soon as she got back to work, her phone began vibrating again. If she could have, Zahra would have crushed the mouse in her hand. She squeezed it as hard as she could, gritting her teeth in annoyance. Dina got like this sometimes, and for whatever reason, the only person she ever called was Zahra — on purpose or with her butt cheek.

Zahra sighed. She couldn’t get mad at her. Dina was her friend, and she truly was looking out for her well-being. Zahra worked long hours and was constantly traveling on behalf of the museum. No one knew the mental and physical toll Zahra’s job took on her better than Dina.

She turned the phone over and hovered her finger over the screen. But she didn’t immediately answer it. The name that was displayed was one she didn’t expect to see. She hadn’t talked to the caller in nearly a year, nor had she seen him in nearly three.

Zahra silently mouthed his named. “Baahir?”

A pair of big, burly SUVs stopped close to where Baahir’s vehicle had come to a shrieking halt. But the Egyptologist was already long gone. With the sealed scroll clutched in his bloodied hands, Baahir ran as fast as he could down the narrow alleyway. He took the first right and then put on even more speed, darting across the road toward the rear parking lot of the Cleopatra Hotel.

He had no idea why Agent Rahal was trying to murder him. A find like this shouldn’t have been something to kill for. It was a phenomenal, historical discovery, but not one that should cost lives. The only reason he could comprehend it was because of money. Baahir wasn’t an expert on the value of black-market antiquities, but he imagined that the first Book of the Dead ever written would fetch a pretty penny.

Still…